Disclaimer: I only own my computer, CDs, stuffed animals, clothes, art supplies, notebooks, books, and windchimes. (None of them were actually bought with anything other than my parents' money, though...)
Author's Note: I can see your frustration. A week and a half without posts, and when I update, I can't even update a story. Yes, I have somehow managed to hit a wall with two stories and four collections at once. So I wrote this little one-shot. Maybe it will ease your anger slightly. Anyway, I didn't write this for you all to hate Peter. In fact, I tried to show how Peter really wasn't such a bad person, just so much weaker than he wishes. Scared about how others feel. He's not evil. Please recognize it, because we've all felt the same way.
Sticks and Stones
"They don't matter one whit. Not one, Peter. If anyone cares who you are, they don't matter." I nodded, but the tears in my eyes defied the move. "They're just Slytherins. You're a Gryffindor. More importantly, you're-
I hadn't expected it. I never have, even if James and Sirius are waiting on the other side of the door I'm opening and it gets stuck three times. And it was the same here, with Bellatrix Lestrange grinning slyly at me, a wand at my throat.
"Hello, Peter," she said, voice low and strong. "It's been a long time since I've seen you. How is that dear cousin of mine?"
"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" I said, trying to keep my voice confident. But I looked wildly for some place to run. I couldn't face Bellatrix Lestrange, most loyal follower to Voldemort. I probably couldn't run away from her either- she had reflexes like a cat and her wand was already pointed at me.
"What are you looking for, little Peter?" Bellatrix crowed, sounding slightly insane with delight. "A place to run? Or one of your little friends to go hide behind?" Her voice dropped to that you would use with a two-year old, but dripping with malice and sarcasm. "Is little Petey-wetey scared? Aww... well, maybe we can remedy that," she said, and sparks flew from her wand.
"I-I'm not scared of you." Why did I have to let that tremor in my voice? But I was scared out of my wits. My life was about to end. I don't want to die. I really don't want to die. I was shaking, and Bellatrix could definitely tell the difference between shaking with rage and fear. I was shaking with fear.
-Peter. Our friend. That matters more than anything in the world." James. He was so brave, and now he was trying to comfort me. But I was crying, like a little boy who ran home to his mother. I looked at my feet, but-
"Really?" she asked, unconcerned. Her wand moved closer, the polished wood now pressing against my throat, moving slightly as I swallowed hard. "Well, that's foolish of you. Such a foolish Gryffindor you are. Not scared? You should be." I should? Well, I am, so at least I got that right. "Maybe I should help you with realization."
"Hold, Bellatrix," came another voice, one that lingered silently and ran up and down my spine. "So, Peter." I knew that voice.
"Go ahead, kill me," I said bravely. They weren't killing me, so that means something was coming up. Maybe even something worse than death?
What was worse than death? I shivered. There wasn't anything worse than death. Bellatrix, reading my mind, smiled benignly. "It will be my pleasure." Her mouth opened.
-Remus' low, rational voice cut through my thoughts. "Everyone, once in a while, feels like it's the end of the world, like nothing they can do will matter at all. We feel like secluding ourselves in a corner and crying. And-
"I said hold, Bellatrix." Lucius Malfoy's stern grey eyes bored into her.
"Why?" said Bellatrix. "He's not going to. The Dark Lord will understand."
"The Dark Lord," said Lucius with a hint of impatience, "put me in charge. And I am telling you to hold, Bellatrix." He smiled darkly. "We are brother and sister, by marriage, but do you really think to challenge whether I would hesitate to demonstrate my authority. Family ties only go so far." He was dangerous, now.
"He will not listen," she said stubbornly.
"Then we will need to be more persuasive," said Malfoy, without skipping a beat. Coolly, calmly, the grey eyes turned to me.
-it's okay. Sometimes we need to cry." Remus, needing to cry? Impossible... right? Then I remembered the nights he wasn't in the dormitory, the transformation from boy to wolf he always insisted on making alone. Now-
"This is the way it stands, Pettigrew," he said. "I am going to make a small preposition. If you agree, you live. If you foolishly decide not to comply with our demands, then my sister here will not hesitate in blasting you to pieces." Comply with their demands?
"What is this preposition you have for me?" I ask, truly interested but not willing to sound so. Still, a slight, infuriating smile came onto Malfoy's face.
"You are going to help us," he said calmly. "You are going to join our ranks, and spy on Dumbledore and the circle of fools that follows him." I paled. He was asking me to trick Dumbledore? No one could do that.
Then I remembered my Animagus. Dumbledore hadn't known about that. He still didn't. He didn't know everything. Maybe I could... But I was spying on Sirius, and Remus, and Lily and James. Could I do that?
-it was Sirius' turn. "Remember that Muggle rhyme James kept annoying Lily with last year? 'Sticks and stones can break my bones..." It certainly was an inspiring phrase. Peter could finish it easily enough...-
"Look at me in the eye, Pettigrew, and tell me your friends care about you," said Lucius, sneering. "Look me in the eye, and tell me you cannot recall a single incident where your friends have not respected you. Look me in the eye, and tell me you are truly content with your status in your life."
It was as if Malfoy knew everything about him. Knew every bitter thought, every regret, every small ounce of hatred Peter had ever harbored.
"Look me in the eye," Malfoy repeated. "Tell me you deserve the contempt you get from them."
He couldn't, of course. Peter stared at his shoes, wondering what to do.
"Look me in the eye," Malfoy repeated once more. "Tell me you value your life."
Startled, Peter met his eyes. He valued his life. It would be stupid not to. How did this fit in the category with the others?
"Will you join us?" asked Lucius Malfoy. Peter understood. It didn't. If he valued his life, he was to save himself. If he didn't, he would be dead.
If he was alive, then he would be able to save himself, somehow. Himself and the others. He could do more than he could do dead.
Even as he accepted Lucius' hand, Peter felt the millions of names he had been called coming back at him. Rat. Idiot. Simpleton.
Never traitor. That was yet to come.
-Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me. Peter only wished it was true.