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Chapter 2: The Story Unfolds
Peter took a deep breath, but was interrupted by Mrs Bones.
"Mr. Pettigrew, as an added precaution, we will have to give you Veritaserum."
A burly guard poured some into his mouth and Peter blinked, before feeling as though someone had just poured a lot of water on him. And he knew how that felt.
"Very well then," he said. "It really all began when I met Dorcas Meadows."
The beautiful, crimson-haired Lily Potter walked down the aisle with her new husband, the tall, handsome troublemaking James Potter, with his jet-black messy hair and his hazel eyes. They departed for their honeymooning carriage, as the assembled guests of the wedding waved them goodbye.
Peter Pettigrew smiled at them warmly as he saw the carriage drive down the pathway.
"Ain't that a sight, eh Pete?" A cheerful voice next to him said. Peter turned and saw the handsome, but single, Sirius Black grinning at him. The Best Man.
"They're very lucky," Peter said, his pale blue eyes twinkling with tears of joy. "Especially James. He worked so hard to win Lily's heart, and now they're together at last."
He sighed, a part of his heart yearning for a romantic love. But he did not admit this to Sirius, because Sirius would just laugh, probably.
He turned to get a drink, but immediately clashed with someone, of whom was standing close to him.
"Ow!" he heard himself, and the person say at the same time, before he turned around, and helped the person up.
"I'm so sorry about tha--" He began, but that was when he saw the face of the person standing before him. Brilliant blue eyes, shimmery golden hair and a perfect figure. She was an angel.
"That," he finished, smiling. He heard a wolf-whistle nearby, but bluntly ignored Sirius.
A few days later Peter and Dorcas had become very close friends. Peter found out that she worked in the same line of work as him, she being an Auror and also a member of the Order of the Pheonix. He wondered briefly why he never noticed her, but she said she had been recently instated.
They sat in the Three Broomsticks, laughing over a few jokes. They had common interests, Dorcas having attended Beauxbatons, and transferred from France. She was a bit of a klutz, but then again, Peter was as well, but they both had a wild sense of humour.
"So then I say to the bartender, 'That's not a horse, that's my sister'!" Peter said, laughing madly, along with Dorcas, until tears of happiness spread into his eyes.
"Oh Peter, you're so funny," Dorcas said, giggling, and running a hand through her beautiful golden hair, before taking a sip of her Butterbeer.
"You're pretty hilarious, yourself," Peter said, grinning. Dorcas slipped a hand quietly over his, and Peter felt himself getting slightly warm in the cheek area. He looked up at Dorcas. Dorcas looked at him. Love and passion burnt through her bright blue eyes. He felt himself getting closer. He could see the little freckles on her nose. He moved even closer. He could see the sparkles on her eyelashes... They were nose to nose...
Inches away from her lips, Peter could barely hear the sharp scream over the pounding of his heart, as a masked assailant shot a curse straight into his heart. He slumped onto his seat, in a coma.
He vaguely remembered seeing Dorcas's face full of worry, and hearing a sharp crack, followed by harsh laughter. The assailant was gone.