"The Devil's Dilemma"
Chapter Two
"I've Got You Under My Skin"
I'd sacrifice anything, come what might,
For the sake of having you near!
In spite of the warning voice the comes in the night,
And whispers and whispers in my ear:
"Don't you know, little fool, you never can win!
Use your mentality, wake up to reality!"
But each time I do…just the thought of you,
Makes me 'stop' before I begin
'Cause I've got you . . . Hmm I got you,
I got you . . . under my skin!
Words and Music by Cole Porter; this version sung by the "Chairman" himself, Frank Sinatra
Tessa stood in the middle of her rose garden with one hand on one hip and the back of her hand against her sweaty forehead; dirt was caked underneath her fingertips and the smell of newly turned earth was prevalent in her nostrils. She tended to blooms that were absolutely stunning in their beauty--deep reds, brilliant whites and tender pinks. Truth be told, she was a bit surprised at her success with the flowers; it was no secret that her horticultural skills were sorely lacking. Perhaps it was the new fertilizer, she mused to herself with a smile.
She looked over at her daughter who was lying nearby, sleeping soundly in her baby seat. Abigail was certainly a good sleeper and (most of the time, anyway) an easy baby! She was, Tessa supposed, with the kind of pride that only a mother possesses, the kind of baby that all mothers must wish for. Tessa laughed heartily as she pruned one of the bushes.
Suddenly, the world around her shifted violently and she was no longer tending her garden in Staplehurst. She stood instead in the middle of a cavernous, chilly gray room with a cathedral ceiling. Panic settled in her stomach as she tried to ascertain exactly where she was. The room was not familiar to her. She looked about, straining to see despite the dimness. The only light in the room came from the moonlight that streamed through one small, narrow window and several sets of white tapered candles sitting in candelabra set strategically in the room. A tiny wooden writing desk stood in one corner, piled high with parchments, several quills, and bottles of ink in various colors and several very thick books. In one other corner stood an ordinary looking cot with a thin blue blanket on it. A long, winding stone staircase led up to an oaken door with a ringed handle. That must be the way out, Tessa thought to herself.
At this point Tessa discovered that she was completely alone. She looked about, frantically trying to find Abigail, who was nowhere to be seen. Completely beside herself with worry and fear, she looked down at herself and realized that she no longer wore her patched, old work robes; instead, she now wore nothing but a white silk nightdress and a thin robe. Her feet were bare. She shivered from the cold and blew on her hands to try and warm them as she stepped to the nearby grate and attempted to get a fire going.
As she concentrated on stirring the glowing red coals with a poker, she did not hear the door to the chambers open behind her and a man's footsteps against the uneven stones.
The man ambled down the stairs in a lazy fashion as if he had all the time in the world to spare. Once down the stairs he walked across the room on small, silent feet. Approximately ten feet from the object of his desire, the man stopped where he was. So busy was Tessa with the fire that she was oblivious to the threat of danger behind her.
"Hello, Tessa," Peter said pleasantly. Tessa gave a yelp of surprise as she whirled around, swinging the poker before her in an attempt at self-defense. When she saw that the intruder was Wormtail, she clutched the poker tightly to her chest. She looked around the room one more time, her eyes searching for an alternate escape route. Finding none, she turned her gaze once more to the short man in front of her.
"Why are you here?" she demanded. "I'm awake!"
"I think not, my dear," Wormtail said amicably as he waved his wand and summoned a vision. A rainbow of colors issued from his wand and hung suspended for a moment in the air before they melded and twisted together, forming the shapes of people and furniture. A doppleganger Tessa lay upon a four-poster bed with a sleeping Harry's arms around her. The vision was blurred around the edge and unfocused. Tessa clapped one hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock as comprehension dawned that indeed she was asleep.
"You've been asleep for over three hours," the little man said with glee. He made a wide sweeping gesture with both of his hands. "Welcome to my chambers!" Wormtail snapped his metallic fingers and Tessa's sleeping image evaporated into a mist. "Admittedly not much to look at, but I call it home." He looked her up and down and nodded appreciatively. He rubbed his hands together in a manner that Tessa found rather disturbing as he continued to eye her up. She pulled her robe tighter around her. "What a delightful treat…at least, for me anyway! You c--certainly go a long way to im--improving my décor!"
I've been asleep for three hours? Tessa thought. Why didn't Harry awaken me? "I have to wake up!" Tessa cried in a pleading voice. "Abigail needs me!"
"Don't w--worry about the child. She is sleeping in her room. I have just ch--checked up on her," Peter said in a placating manner, as if he had done Tessa a huge favor.
"Don't you ever go near my child!" Tessa snarled, her grasp on the poker suddenly stronger. She shivered not only with cold, but also with fright.
Wormtail shook his head as he clucked his tongue. "My d--dear Tessa! There's no n—need to become angry with me! I did not h—harm a hair on her head!" He stepped closer to her and reached for the poker. "Give me the p--poker and let us chat for a while!"
"Don't come any closer, Wormtail. I'll use this on you…I mean it!" She raised the poker a bit as she spoke and stepped backwards. In doing so, she made contact with the rough stone wall. The poker struck the rocks and the clash of metal against stone rang throughout the room.
Wormtail sauntered closer to Tessa, then suddenly placed the index finger of his metallic hand to his lips and bowed his head ever so slightly, as if pondering something. Tessa mistook his body language as a signal of weakness and lowered the poker slightly. This proved to be a huge mistake, as Wormtail suddenly grabbed the poker in a swift motion, wrenching it from the woman's grasp. He threw it across the room and it landed with a clang in the far corner. He advanced on her like a lion to its prey. Tessa raised her hands in an attempt to push Wormtail away from her, but he grabbed her hands before she could get a decent grasp on his face. As soon as their fingers made contact, a sensation like an electric current passed between them and a flash of blue light seemed to radiate from both of them. Does this always happen when people Dreamfast? Tessa wondered as briefly both she and her aggressor stared at the reaction.
The moment was short-lived. Wormtail forced her hands against the wall, pinning them there. She fought valiantly against him but, because she was still weak from childbirth, she was not much of a hindrance to him. She stopped struggling and became still. He was so near to her that she could feel his chest against hers through the thin material of the dressing gown. She turned her head away from him and squeezed her eyes closed. Wormtail smelled of cigarettes, cheap beer and also of…honeysuckle? That was unexpected…what in the world? She thought.
"What do you want?" she said in a frightened voice, afraid of the answer she was going to receive.
Wormtail snorted with laughter. He looked up into her eyes. "What do I want? You know, I—I don't think anyone's asked me that in a v—very long time, my dear," Wormtail intoned as he smiled wickedly at her. He forced her to meet his gaze. "I want a nice peanut b--butter and jam sandwich, actually. On white bread. Oh yeah, and perhaps a nice b--bottle of b--butterbeer and some of those delightful chocolate chip b--biscuits you make. They're delicious!"
Tessa tried in vain to yank her hands away from Peter's. The stones in the wall were beginning to dig into her skin and it hurt. "I think that perhaps you're being facetious, Wormtail. Somehow, I'm surprised that you actually have the skill to pull that off!" she said rather stupidly.
"You've still not learned to keep your m--mouth shut, I see. That's r--really going to get you into a world of hurt one of these days," he pointed out harshly. "What do you think I want?" he asked, his tone gentler now. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed her softly on the mouth. Tears trickled down Tessa's cheeks as she closed her eyes. She stood very still and did not respond to his kiss at all. After five or six seconds of this, Peter broke the pseudo-kiss and pulled away from her so that his face was mere inches from hers. He still had her hands pinned to the wall.
Tessa's eyes opened slowly. "If there is any honor left within you, Peter, you will not do that again," she whispered.
Honor. That word inserted into a sentence with his name in it was so foreign that it was almost ironic. The priest in the cathedral had spoken of honor. As much as he didn't want to, Peter reluctantly let go of Tessa and stepped back.
Tessa grabbed her left wrist in her right hand and rubbed it. She gave Peter a questioning look.
"I promise that I will not kiss you again until you ask me to," Peter said in a solemn voice. His blue-gray eyes were completely sober as he said this.
How dare he even assume, thought Tessa, that I would ever entertain the notion? She scowled at Wormtail as her sarcasm returned. "You're awfully confident Wormtail, now aren't you?" she said in a condescending tone. "I will never kiss you. Find someone else to stalk, will you? I've had enough of it!"
"I guarantee you that b--before your baby utters her first word, you will ask me to kiss you," Wormtail said in a superior voice. "You e--enjoyed our last kiss together, when we first Dreamfasted together! Don't stand before me and try to deny it! I can read y--your thoughts." He took another step backward. "You w--wonder if you could control y--yourself with me if I kissed you again. You want to feel the earth move a--again!"
Ratty bastard! Tessa thought. "The kiss was probably only enjoyable because it was your fantasy, you sick, twisted thing. You can be any kind of kisser you want to be in your dreams…you could be bloody Mel Gibson if you set your mind to it!"
For a moment the little man looked confused. Who is Mel Gibson? He thought. "If that's the case, then why do you feel so guilty?" Wormtail asked aloud in a singsong voice. "Is it perhaps b--because Harry's kisses fall m--miserably short of m--mine?"
Argh!
Peter grinned sadistically. "Check and mate, madam!" he said, giving Tessa a sweeping bow.
Tessa was beside herself with fury. "How dare you say such things to me? Harry's ten times the kisser you are, even in your dreams!"
"K--Keep repeating that over and over, my darling; because if you do it might make the statement t--true!" Wormtail giggled eerily. "I--I'm not gong to k--kiss you until you ask me to, although you need it. You need kissing and often and b--by someone who knows how!"
Tessa's eyes narrowed at the podgy wizard who stood before her. "You're a shifty little shit, you know that?" she asked hysterically.
Wormtail's voice was the epitome of calm. "I'm disappointed, Tessa my s—sweet. The last time you swore at me the l—language was almost p--poetic in its fluidity and iambic pentameter."
Iambic pentameter? Tessa thought. How in the world would you even know what that meant, much less use the phrase correctly, you insipid little troll?
"I read a lot of Shakespeare as a ch--child," Peter responded aloud. "The Bard was renowned for his use of the l--literary device." His face showed no emotion, but his body language suggested that he was somewhat uncomfortable with the admission. Tessa, sharp as a tack, picked up on it, but said nothing. "I wasn't very popular when I was young. I was short, I was fat and…"
Was? Thought Tessa, with a snort of mental laughter. "As opposed to now, where you're svelte and oh so debonair? Not to mention a hit with the ladies," she commented derisively.
"Why do I even b--bother telling you this if all you're going to do is insult me?"
Tessa shook her head in disbelief. "I don't care what you tell me! I don't care about you! If you died right now before me I would laugh! If you were lying by the side of the road, dying of thirst, I wouldn't offer you a drink of water! You make me want to retch! Couldn't you have been caught in a rat trap at some point during your many years as Scabbers and made the world that much more peaceful?"
"Tell me how you r--really feel, my little Scrabble queen!"
Wormtail smiled merrily as he turned around and walked to the doorway of the chamber. At that moment, Tessa noticed a faint pink lipstick stain on the collar of Wormtail's shirt. A name flashed unbidden across her brain… Melissa?
"Who is Melissa?"
Wormtail stopped dead in his tracks and pulled at his shirt collar as if it was a tad snug. For a beginner, Tessa's Dreamfasting abilities were quite sharp he thought…perhaps just a smidgen too sharp. "She's a…friend," Wormtail said with a blush. "She is of n--no consequence to you!" He took a moment to compose himself. Tessa could not know about his dealings with the prostitute and the black negligee he had stolen and forced the girl to wear, he thought fervently. Think about something else…you must throw Tessa off the track. He tried to concentrate on something else, but it was like being told not to think about a pink elephant: once the suggestion presents itself, despite one's best intentions to the contrary, one thinks of pink elephants. Try as he might, Wormtail could not stop thinking about it. He was a doomed man and he knew it, or so he thought. He gave Tessa a sheepish look.
Tessa's brow furrowed in confusion. She could feel guilt and humiliation radiating off of the wizard like a stench, but could not establish why. All she knew was that the topic of this "Melissa" woman was off-limits. He wasn't going to discuss her no matter how hard she prodded.
Not that she cared.
She looked down at Wormtail who was doing his best to keep his face expressionless and uncaring but was not succeeding. Wait a minute, she thought as a slow smile spread across her face. I think I know why he's not too keen to discuss the mystery woman. I don't need to be able to read his thoughts for this, she thought smugly. "Melissa's a prostitute, isn't she?" Tessa asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"That, Tessa, is none of your business," Wormtail answered shortly. His face turned an unbecoming shade of magenta.
Tessa began to laugh cruelly. "Melissa is a prostitute. That's bloody funny, Wormtail! I'll bet you had to pay her double the going rate just so that she'd lower herself to your level!" Tessa stepped very close to Peter and bent over slightly so she could look him squarely in the eye. She wore a nasty smirk. "Even a whore who has gone to the bad won't be had by a rat!"
Wormtail instinctively raised his fists and made to swing at Tessa. She panicked and threw her arms over her face. At the very last minute, he dropped his hands to his sides. "It's a good thing I c--care about you or I would forget you w--were a woman for about twenty seconds," Wormtail muttered.
"I want out of this nightmare!" Tessa cried, lowering her arms.
"Oh, but you'll never be out of the n--nightmare," Wormtail said as he turned away from her. He strode purposefully up the narrow gray staircase that would lead him to a heavy oaken door with an iron ring handle. Placing one hand on the ring, he turned to her once more.
"When you f--failed to comply with the conditions of m--my Master's plan you created a nightmare that will not end until the D--Dark Lord executes revenge. I fail to understand why a woman as clever as you are hasn't h--heeded my warning yet. Every day that you fail to so brings your family one st--step closer to Hell." He opened the door.
Tessa watched him as he stepped away from her. His face belies his true feelings, she thought. I don't know exactly what he's thinking in terms of words, but I can see that something torments him. Probably the fact that he knows he's a pig-headed, obnoxious, fool she thought.
Finally, Wormtail's outer expression of complacency fell apart, revealing a face twisted with anger. Now standing in the doorway, the man spun around, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Mark my w—words, Tessa Pettigrew, you haven't seen the last of me," he said in a nasty voice. "The next time we meet in the flesh, I won't be so p—pleasant.
"Quit calling me Tessa Pettigrew! That's not my name!" Tessa screamed shrilly.
"Fear me…fear the wrath of the Dark Lord. Your whole family is in danger." With that, Peter exited the room, his robes swishing impressively around his chubby figure and Tessa found herself falling…falling…falling into darkness.
Harry awoke to the sound of talking. "We're not safe…the Dark Lord is coming…"
Harry sleepily struggled into a sitting position and placed his arms around his wife. "Shhh, honey," he whispered as he held her, "you're going to wake Abigail!"
Tessa's eyes were wide and fixed as if staring at something or someone only she could see. She appeared to be carrying on a conversation with herself; sometimes her voice sounded like hers always did and sometimes the voice was lower and desperate-sounding. The effect was creepy.
"He's coming…we're safe here…n--no, you're not, you're all in danger…" Tessa babbled.
"Who's coming?" Harry asked. He pulled her close as she continued babbling about Abigail and hiding somewhere safe. "Nobody is coming, Tessa! Like I've been telling you for days and days, we are perfectly safe here!"
"You n--need to get out…Harry says that…Harry's f--full of grade-A…don't talk that way about--" Tessa snapped out of her trance with a start. She looked about the bedroom as if unsure as to how she had managed to get there. She looked at Harry, who wore an expression of complete bewilderment. "I was talking in my sleep, wasn't I?" she asked in an embarrassed tone of voice.
"Yes, you were. You were rambling on about how we're not safe. You said my name quite a few times too," Harry answered. He frowned at Tessa. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this dream entailed."
She shook her head negatively as she leaned against Harry's chest and kissed his fingers. "I just had a silly dream. I know we're safe, Harry…I am just…I don't know what I am anymore! I think I'm going to get up and tend to Abigail. I'm not tired anymore." She placed one final kiss on Harry's fingers. "I will be just fine, honey."
"I want to believe you, I really do, but these dreams and your refusal to sleep has gone on for far too long." Harry stroked her hair with one hand. "Why don't you want to sleep? You're a zombie! Your eyes are all bloodshot, you're pale as a ghost and you've been tiptoeing around the house looking over your shoulder every chance you get! It's like you're afraid that someone's going to attack you! What is the matter?" Harry pleaded. "Tell me!"
Tessa swung her feet over the side of the bed and pushed herself off. She picked up her robe from her chair and pulled it over her shoulders. "I want to tell you, Harry, I want to tell you so badly but if I do, you're going to leave me; and I love you and don't want to live without you," Tessa stated aloud.
This was new, Harry thought. I thought I was prepared for anything she could say. How wrong I was. "I'm going to leave you?" Harry asked incredulously. He picked up his glasses from the bedside table and put them on. "What makes you think that I'm going to leave you over some silly dream? Tessa, come back to bed right now!" He checked his watch. "It is 2:45 AM!" He beckoned to his wife with one hand but Tessa ignored him.
"I'm going to check on Abigail," Tessa said as she walked to the bedroom door.
"No you're not!" Harry stated. "I will check on Abigail. You're coming back to bed and getting some sleep. You've not slept well for three weeks and it's high time you got some rest. Come back here!" he cried.
From the nursery, a thin wail could be heard. Abigail had heard the commotion and awakened.
Tessa's voice was cold. "See what you've done? Now she's awake!" Tessa pulled the door open and headed into the hall.
Harry rolled his eyes. It's come to this, has it? He thought. Sliding out of bed, he followed his wife into the nursery, his wand in his hand. He peeked into the nursery and watched as Tessa sleepily picked up the child and fumbled with the clasp on her nightdress. She sat down in the rocking chair and began to make herself comfortable. Not tonight, Tessa, Harry thought. You've worked too hard. You need a break and you're too stubborn to take one. He pointed his wand in her direction.
"Placidus somnus!"
Immediately, Tessa fell into a deep sleep. Harry quickly rushed to her side and took the child from her limp arms. He placed Abigail into her cradle and scooped Tessa into his arms. Harry lovingly carried her back to her bed and placed the duvet over her. As he walked downstairs and mixed up a bottle of formula for his crying daughter, he couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be normal again for himself and his little family.
Peter wouldn't have awakened when he did, given the option. The large bed he currently shared with the lovely Melissa was warm, soft and comfortable; it was quite a change from the cast iron cot with the lumpy mattress he was used to. Imbibing six beers over the course of an hour had finally caught up with him however and the dull ache in his bladder had become incredibly uncomfortable. He tried to quell the urge as he turned over sluggishly, pulled the duvet up to his chin and glanced at the woman who was still sleeping next to him.
Melissa was snoring softly, her long chestnut brown hair spread across her pillow in a becoming fan. Still wearing the sheer black negligee that belonged to Tessa, she unknowingly elicited a definite physical response from the man who was staring at her. Peter smirked as he felt a familiar stirring in his loins. He glanced up at the large clock on the wall of the tastefully decorated room and saw that it was 2:45 AM. Melissa belonged to him for another four hours. Perhaps he'd have one more romp with her before he left the establishment.
Unable to ignore the call of nature any longer, Peter reluctantly slid out of the bed and padded slowly to the nearby toilet, not bothering to dress. As he relived himself, he couldn't help but smile as the remembrance of his most recent dream popped into his head. He had managed to fluster Tessa quite completely with reference to the kiss that they had shared weeks earlier. He remembered her stammered response and the pink flush that had crept into her cheeks as she hopelessly tried to defend her husband. She may hate Wormtail the man, but she loves Wormtail the kisser, he thought with a chuckle, and it bothers the hell out of her!
It isn't right, though, a nagging voice in the recesses of his brain admonished him, to put the woman through such misery if you really and truly love her. She made her decision regarding whom she loves and it's not you. Can you blame her? You did kill her parents. That's bound to put a damper on any relationship!
"Stupid bloody conscience!" Peter grumbled. He sighed as he flushed. It had been this way with him for three weeks. He really had tried several techniques to push Tessa from his mind for good once he knew that she was going to survive the coma, but it was difficult. He had tried alcohol. He had tried various women in several establishments (but none as deliciously entertaining as the naughty Melissa, who, through her inspired performance the previous evening had earned her the dubious distinction of becoming Peter's "All Time Favorite Shag"). He had even taken pills he bought from a surly teenager that he had encountered in his travels (which, after ingesting, only caused him to be convinced for a short time that he was a hummingbird of some sort).
None of his quick fixes helped for long: his relationship with Tessa was unlike any schoolboy crush he had ever had; any girl he had pined for during his time at Hogwarts had usually ignored him or laughed at him. Not that this was particularly amusing in any way whatsoever; it wasn't. His current feelings for Tessa were sweet and terrible and angst-filled all at once because his affections had been rewarded, at least on a small level. And that, he thought, was much worse than simply being ignored.
Well, he wasn't about to be ignored any longer! There was a damned sexy woman just behind the lavatory door who would be willing to do anything for him, at least for the next little while. Peter washed and dried his hands and pulled on the door handle that would open and lead him back to the bed and to Melissa. He suddenly felt the need to be punished in a major way. Perhaps she was up for a little role-playing. One way to find out, he surmised.
He stepped into the main room and lifted his eyes to the bed. Suddenly, his blood seemed to freeze as he stopped mid-step and gaped in astonishment.
Melissa sat bolt upright in the bed, her eyes wide and scared. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and she looked to Wormtail with an expression of pure unadulterated fright. Vincent Crabbe Senior held a long knife to her throat with one beefy arm; his other arm held Melissa close to him, pinning her arms so that she couldn't make any sudden movements.
Roger Goyle had his wand trained directly on the nearly nude form of Wormtail, his face alive with demented jollity. Lucius Malfoy stood close to the window, his eyes darting from Melissa to Roger to Wormtail and finally to the nearly empty streets below. He caught Wormtail's eye and gave a cruel sneer, as he looked the small, fat man up and down. So surprised was Wormtail at the intrusion that he merely stood where he was and made no attempt to cover himself. "'W--What are you doing here? H--how did you find me?" he squeaked.
"You have to be, without a doubt, the most pathetic looking excuse for a man I have ever seen," Lucius said in a soft voice, laced with distaste. "For the love of God, man, put on some trousers!" He threw Wormtail's trousers in the man's general direction. The wizard caught them deftly with one hand.
"And with as m--many naked men as you've seen in your d—day, that would be saying something now, wouldn't it?" Peter quipped. "Really n--now, Lucius, what would Narcissa say?" He stepped into his trousers and zipped up his fly. "Don't worry yourself Malfoy…your little s--secret is safe with me!"
Lucius blanched for a moment then smoothed his features back into an expression of intense hatred. "Forgive me if I scoff at your foolish offer. Secrets have never been your strong suit, Wormtail." The other Death Eaters laughed.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Malfoy?" asked Peter in an even tone of voice.
"Our Master requires the pleasure of your company you fool. Get dressed and come with us."
Peter cringed inwardly at the mention of his Master. I knew the time would come eventually, when Voldemort would choose to search me down and punish me for my actions, he thought. Why did I ever think I could run from the most powerful being of the age? Peter's next words were spoken aloud as he tried to mask his feelings of fear with words of bravado.
"I wasn't exactly e--expecting company, Lucius," snapped Peter angrily. He gestured to the large bed where Melissa sniffled and stared at him with a desperate countenance. Crabbe was pinning her arms so tightly bruises had already begun to develop on her arms. "As you can plainly see I h--have been otherwise occupied for the night. I own her for the next four hours. I intend on getting my m--money's worth!"
"The Master requires that we bring you back to his service," Lucius said, "and I intend to do my Master's bidding. Unlike you, I am not a sniveling coward who's afraid of his own shadow. I follow my Master's instructions. You're to accompany us back to his lair."
"And if I d--don't?" Wormtail asked defiantly.
Lucius turned to Crabbe and nodded curtly. Crabbe grabbed Melissa's chin and pulled upward, thus causing the skin on her throat to go taut. Turning the blunt end of the knife in her direction, Crabbe pulled back his arm with all his strength.
The pressure of the knife on her throat crushed her Adam's Apple completely and she began to slowly asphyxiate. Her eyes bulged helplessly as she desperately tried to take in precious oxygen. The air she was able to draw wasn't nearly enough and she began to claw at her throat as her face went from pink to red and then to white. She writhed and twisted on the bed like a fish out of water.
"S--stop!" Wormtail cried, aghast at the spectacle before his eyes. Lucius and the other men laughed. "I mean it…end this t--torture now! There's no p--point in making her s--suffer! She's innocent!" he said in a squeaky voice. He made a movement toward his jacket, where he had secured his wand in a hidden holster, but stopped in his tracks when Malfoy and Goyle turned their wands in his direction.
"No point?" Lucius voiced lazily. "Ah, my ignorant compatriot, but there is. You see, we could have simply performed the Killing Curse on the Muggle: no muss, no fuss. However, given that the situation involves you, we felt it fitting to show you what shall befall you should you not obey our Master," he finished with an aristocratic sneer.
Vincent looked to Lucius, whose steely gray eyes showed no trace of normal human emotion. "What should I do with her?" he asked.
"Finish her," Lucius said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He did not bother to look in the woman's direction.
In one final quick flick of the wrist Crabbe pulled the knife across the prostitute's throat, which left a long bloody gash directly underneath the Adam's apple. He released her arms and allowed her to fall forward onto the bed. Melissa drew gurgled breaths for a moment or two as she attempted to slide off the bed, but it wasn't long before she became silent as her life escaped her. Her eyes remained glassy and wide open as she expired unceremoniously on the bed of a gentleman's club; the unfortunate victim of circumstances she could not possibly have understood.
Wormtail's heart skipped a beat as he watched Melissa die before his eyes. She was bleeding all over the place and staining Wormtail's only physical connection to Tessa with her blood. He rushed over to the dead woman and fumbled with the fastenings on the material. Maybe he could still salvage the garment. "Y--you make your p--point very vividly, M--Malfoy," he stated through gritted teeth as he pulled at the material.
"Our Master is very upset with you, Pettigrew! He says that you're not worth the effort of waving his wand. I promise you that the punishment he gives you will not be swift and painless. He'll see to it that you're whipped back into shape." Malfoy's smile widened. "My only hope is that I will play some small part in watching you plead for your life!"
"Fuck you, Malfoy. I'm not going anywhere with y--you," Wormtail said as he successfully pulled the lingerie completely off of Melissa's body. Stuffing the soiled material into the pocket of his trousers, he suddenly transformed himself into a rat and scurried toward the door.
"I don't think so," Lucius intoned in a soft, nasty voice. He raised his wand and pointed it directly at the rat. "Impedimenta!"
Immediately Wormtail's movements slowed considerably, allowing Lucius ample time to saunter across the room and pick him up by his tail. He held the twitching ratat eye level and shook his head. Crabbe and Goyle laughed dully as they watched Peter frantically try to escape Lucius' grasp.
"You're a good-for-nothing piece of filth, Pettigrew, and an insult to the name of a Death Eater," Lucius said in a soft, hypnotic voice. "If it were up to me, I'd place your head underneath my foot and crush your skull with the heel of my boot." Wormtail writhed, twisted and squeaked as he desperately tried to free himself.
"Unfortunately for me, I don't get that option," Lucius continued. "That distinction belongs to Voldemort. We were asked to bring you back alive." As Lucius uttered this statement, Wormtail's movements ceased. He merely dangled by his tail from Lucius' hand. "Now, I wonder," intoned Lucius with an air of maddening superiority, "should we allow you to transform back into a man or should we just throw you into a cage?"
Wormtail squeaked shrilly in response.
Lucius placed one hand to his ear theatrically. "Crabbe? Goyle? Did you two hear anything?"
"I heard Pettigrew--" began Crabbe stupidly.
"Duh, I think he was being sarcastic, Vincent," Goyle said to his colleague, demonstrating a rudimentary measure of intellect.
"Sack, Goyle," Malfoy commanded as he held out his hand. The man tossed Lucius a smelly brown burlap bag.
"I foresaw the idea that you might be cowardly enough to transform so I took precautions. Don't even think of trying to gnaw your way out of this bag, Wormtail. It's been enchanted so that, if you even try to bite through the material, it will stop allowing air to flow through and you will suffocate just like your hooker friend." Lucius gave Wormtail one more look of disgust, then threw the doomed Animagus into the bag and tied the top closed with a length of string.
With that, the group exited the room, locked the door behind them and left Wonderland by the back stairway.
Hours later, Harry opened the door to the master bedroom and stepped inside, being careful to make no sound as he tiptoed to the four-poster bed where Tessa still lay sleeping. She had been out for nearly twelve straight hours and had not moved from the position in which he had placed her much earlier that day. Her facial expression was one of a woman completely at ease and carefree. Harry wondered if he would ever see that expression on his wife's face again, truth be told. If he had harbored any guilt about placing a sleeping charm on her earlier, he banished the thoughts from his head as he looked upon her; she had needed the rest.
Harry sighed sadly as he took out his wand and pointed it at Tessa. He didn't really want to wake her, but Abigail was going to be hungry again fairly soon and they had run out of powdered formula. "Ennervate!" Harry said in a soft voice.
Tessa stirred. She stretched slowly, like a lazy cat. She yawned as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes with her fists. She opened her eyes and regarded Harry with a tired smile.
"Good morning, handsome," she said.
"Good morning to you," Harry said, sitting on the bed next to her and brushing his lips against hers. "Although it's not morning anymore: it's well past two o'clock in the afternoon! You've been sleeping for twelve hours!"
"Twelve hours?" Tessa cried. "Oh no! I have to get up…where's the baby?"
"Calm down, Tessa. Everything's fine. The baby is asleep in her cradle. I've taken good care of her today, but she needs you for a feeding," Harry said in a placating voice.
As Tessa turned over in the four-poster bed, she became keenly aware of the ache in her breasts. It had been a long time since she had fed Abigail last. She sat up next to Harry, who passed Tessa her white robe. "Thank you, Harry," Tessa said, patting him on the hand. "You don't know how much I needed this," she added.
"Your robe? No problem, sweetheart," Harry said lamely.
"No, silly, I meant the charm," Tessa said, putting her arms around Harry and embracing him. "It was just what I needed and I was too tired and stubborn to see it," she added.
"No bad dreams this time?" Harry asked.
"None at all," Tessa assured him. "My sleep was dream-free and completely restful and I have you to thank for it. You're too good to me sometimes." She looked into Harry's eyes. "Kiss me," she said, pulling him very close so that their lips were very nearly touching.
Oh yes, Harry thought. I've waited for you to ask me to do that for weeks but you've been so preoccupied with the baby. "It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Potter," he said before pushing his lips into contact with hers. The kiss was sweet and hesitant at first, softness against softness, familiar and true. Gently, Harry parted Tessa's lips with his tongue and found hers. It was like coming home and he clutched her tighter as the kiss deepened.
If you were to ask him later exactly when the mood of the kiss changed, Harry would not have been able to tell you for certain; it was very a subtle shift, to be sure. He remembered Tessa's soft hands cupping his face and her small growl of pleasure from deep in her throat as her tongue flirted with his. He remembered her fingers gripping the small of his back, her nails digging almost painfully into his flesh as she whispered words of love to him between kisses.
It seemed to Harry that Tessa was kissing him as if she had something to prove: she became the aggressor, kissing him fiercely and passionately. He wasn't about to complain; a snog is a snog is a snog, he thought, and he wasn't about to bring up the issue that she was cutting off his air supply or that he would have swollen lips. In his opinion, the comments would not have been fitting, given the situation. She kissed him as if she had never kissed him before and may never get the chance again.
There was a certain desperateness to the kisses that Harry had never felt from her before. Perhaps it was due to the hormones that the doctors had told him about at the hospital. They were going to be somewhat out of whack for a while. Bottom line was that his mind was being, quite astoundingly, blown by her sweet lips against his and he was extremely excited about it. It looked like Tessa Potter was coming around to herself.
Tessa threw herself into Harry's arms, deepening the kiss as she bowled him over onto the bed. She ran a hand provocatively down the plane of his chest and allowed her fingers to rest on the top of his trousers. She could feel him hard against her. "You have to be the sexiest man alive," she whispered.
"Where'd this come from?" he squeaked in surprise. "Not that I am complaining, mind you!" he added with a smile as he placed his arms around her waist. "But uh…didn't the doctor say to wait six weeks before we uh…rouse the beast as it were?"
Tessa laughed. "I know, I know! I just wanted to show you how much I love you," Tessa answered. She embraced her husband tenderly. "You are my whole world, you and Abigail. Forever." She stood up and placed a hand on Harry's leg. "I will always love you, Harry. Don't ever forget that," she said. "No matter what happens you will always have my love."
"I know that, Tessa," Harry said, somewhat confused by her cryptic comment. "I will always love you too." The conversation was a bit more intense than Harry would have liked on only four hours of sleep, so he quipped, "Unless, of course, you're planning on having some sort of torrid affair with a mysterious man, that is!" He laughed aloud at his witty remark. He failed to notice that Tessa had suddenly gone silent and pale.
Tessa stared openmouthed at Harry for a moment, her blue eyes filling with tears, then turned on one heel and left the room on silent feet. A moment later, he heard the door to the nursery open and the sound of Tessa's voice as she awakened Abigail with a song.
Harry sat on the bed for a long time. What did I do? One minute she's great and the next minute she's miserable, he thought. She has been a prisoner of this house for nearly seven months. I wish there were a way I could get her out of here, at least for a few minutes. She needs to see something besides these walls and the baby. How could I accomplish the impossible and treat her to a night out?
Harry thought for a minute and an idea suddenly popped into his head. He raced downstairs to the family room and quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. He scrawled a quick message, then rolled up the parchment, placed a seal around it and whistled to Hedwig. He tied the note to her leg and opened the window so that she could fly away.
"Get this message to Sirius as quickly as you can!"
Cornelius Fudge was a man who liked coffee — and I mean really liked it. He enjoyed his coffee bitter and black-- none of that "multi-flavored, artsy-fartsy, new-agey, coffee wanna-be crap laced with milk and sugar" (his words, mind you). Fudge liked his Aurors strong and his coffee even stronger; those who worked under his supervision were only half-joking when they commented that, if the caffeinated beverage could ever be infused into his body intravenously, Fudge would be the first wizard to try it. The man could not complete a coherent thought before imbibing at least three cups of the brew. Because of this, a pot of the pungent concoction always awaited him in the morning so that, when he arrived at work, he could immediately head up to his office and get his daily fix before tackling the important business of the Ministry of Magic. It was an unwritten rule amongst the Ministry staff that Fudge was not to be disturbed during this time; that is, if you wanted to keep your job.
Apparently, nobody thought to tell Percy Weasley this (or perhaps they did think to tell him and just didn't bother; after all, he did come across as an insufferable know-it-all, and wasn't generally liked by the staff). Percy was actually known to point at his watch and shake his head when those he worked with arrived late to work. It was because of this that on Monday, when the young man knocked cheerfully on Fudge's office door and walked in with the morning papers from the Wizarding community and surrounding Muggle areas, his co-workers sniggered behind cupped hands and pressed their ears to Fudge's door.
The ever-anal assistant to the Minister of Magic strode into his boss' office with a wide grin on his face and a merry spring in his step. He took absolutely no notice of Fudge gaping at him with an expression that clearly read what in God's name are you doing here?
"Good morning, Mr. Fudge sir," greeted young Percy. "I have all of your morning papers here sir, all alphabetized, organized and ready for you perusal." He placed the newspapers on a startled Fudge's desk. Percy stepped away from the desk, clasped his hands together behind his back and awaited Fudge's words of praise, which, he thought, would be most certainly forthcoming. After all, how many administrative assistants had Fudge ever had in his employ that would actually alphabetize his newspapers for him? "I've even taken the liberty of separating out the funnies out of the American newspapers and throwing them away. I remember how much you loathe low-brow humor."
Instead of praise, the Minister of Magic merely glowered at him and grunted something intelligible. He picked up his coffee mug and took a deep slurp.
"Excuse me sir?" Percy asked, now a little bit confused.
Fudge took another large swallow of his coffee, then stood up and leaned over his desk. "Mr. Weasley," he spoke in a tone of voice that clearly said 'I am not a man to be reckoned with', "how dare you walk in here and bother me before I've had my coffee? You've been working here long enough to know this!"
"I'm sorry sir," Percy said in a hurt voice. "I am aware how much you enjoy your coffee, sir, and I thought that perhaps you would enjoy reading the paper while you had it, is all."
"You think too much, young Weasley. That's the type of behavior that could get a wizard killed in the field," growled Fudge. "If you took the time to listen rather than think, you would know that I am NOT TO BE BOTHERED WHILE I HAVE MY COFFEE!"
Percy wished with all his might that he be able to find a hole to crawl into.
Fudge hadn't finished his tirade. "If you can think of a reason why I should continue to employ you without using the letter "E," perhaps I will allow you to stay on at the Ministry. Otherwise, you're fired!"
Percy began to sweat. He tugged at the collar of his work robes, which suddenly felt far too tight. He couldn't lose his job…what would Penelope say?
"Uh…I am a good…uh…work man?" he offered in a weak voice. "I am yours to control?"
"Impressive, young Weasley," stated Fudge. "You think fast on your feet. I like that in an employee. You also gave me an excellent idea for a new Ministry motto. I'll allow you to keep your job. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind!"
"Thank you, sir. Thank you for your patience with me! I swear, it shan't happen again, sir—" Percy took two large steps away from the desk.
"GET OUT!" Fudge yelled, throwing his mug angrily in Percy's direction. Percy covered his head and ducked. The mug landed on the thick, plushy carpet, bounced and eventually rolled into the corner of the office.
"Please sir, don't hit me! AHHH!" Percy cried as he stepped farther away from his employer's desk. He tripped over his own feet and fell on his bottom. He scrambled to his feet once again; shielding his face as Fudge launched another mug at him. This one smashed against the door, mere inches from Percy's face. Percy turned around, fumbled with the knob for a fraction of a second, then pulled the door open and ran out of the room in a hurry.
As he closed the door behind him, the sound of another mug hitting the oaken door and breaking could be heard. How many mugs did that man own, Percy thought wildly. He looked up. The entire workforce of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement now surveyed Percy with raised eyebrows. Percy's faced reddened as he looked around the room, painfully aware that everyone was staring at him.
"Nothing to see here! Go back to your business!" he snapped. "Mr. Fudge specifically complained about the noise out here! It's a wonder you all haven't been fired!" With that statement, he skulked off, extremely miffed.
For a moment or two all was quiet. Soon, however, the chuckling at Percy's expense began and the day continued as if nothing had happened, that is for a while.
Because what Cornelius Fudge did not know was that someone in the Department of Magical Births was about a very interesting discovery…