Peter pried open the door to Snape's sitting room and stepped inside, a tray of stale biscuits clutched in his hands. "I thought you might like some refreshments," he murmured; his eyes flitted down to where Snape knelt on the floor beside Narcissa Malfoy, their clasped hands bound together by three intertwined tongues of flame. Peter gave a soft squeak of surprise—they were making an Unbreakable Vow.
"No, you weren't," Snape said coolly; the tongues of flame dissolved against his and Narcissa's skin, and the two of them rose to their feet beside Bellatrix, who was stuffing away the wand she'd used to seal the Bond. "You were trying to listen in on us again. But it's of no matter; our business here is finished."
"Indeed it is," said Bellatrix, her lips pulled upwards in a bewildered, delighted grin. Peter met her hooded dark eyes, and a wave of sudden revulsion twisted his insides: this was the woman who had killed Sirius. Peter had learned of Sirius's death last month along with Snape, whom he had just moved in with after a few months serving the Goyle family. Snape's eyes had gleamed with triumph at the news; Peter had had to excuse himself and hide out in the bathroom for half an hour.
He had no right to be angry or sad over Sirius's death—he'd turned on him long ago, framed him and gotten him sent to Azkaban for twelve years—but still he found his thoughts drifting back to his old friend every time he closed his eyes, remembering their late-night games of Exploding Snap and how much his rat self loved to nuzzle into his dog's thick fur. He had to force himself to think instead of the hatred in Sirius's eyes the last time they had seen each other—Sirius wouldn't mourn his death, so why should Peter mourn his?
"Thank you, Severus," Narcissa Malfoy whispered. Peter saw that she had tears in her eyes. "I won't forget this." Snape gave a small nod; what sort of Vow had he sworn for her? Peter suspected that it had something to do with her son, Draco, who had just become the newest and youngest of Voldemort's Death Eaters.
"He doesn't know, does he?" Bellatrix asked, waving a hand at Peter, who winced. "About the Dark Lord's plan?"
"Of course not." Snape sneered as he turned back to appraise him. "Wormtail is only entrusted with the most basic of information. He does have a reputation for being a traitorous rat, after all."
Peter bristled. So do you, he thought. Dumbledore thinks you're part of the Order…you're doing the same thing I did. But he held his tongue—pointing out this fact wouldn't change anything for him. Snape would always hate him, because he had been friends with James and Sirius for so many years….
"I must say, I've begun to grow tired of your presence here, Wormtail. I can get around just fine without a servant, especially one who attempts to listen in on all my private conversations. How about you go home with Bellatrix today? Her husband has been returned to Azkaban, so I'm sure you could prove more useful to her than you are to me."
"I suppose I could take him," Bellatrix said with a sigh. "It'll be like having a house-elf again."
Peter dropped his biscuit tray. A thrill of horror had risen up within him. Not her…anyone but her.
"The Dark Lord told me to stay with you!" he protested to Snape. "I'm not yours to order around…."
"I'll speak to him about it," Snape said dismissively, his sneer growing. "I don't believe he will mind—you are far from his top priority, Wormtail. Go with Bellatrix—on the off-chance our master has anything better to do with you, I'll be sure to let you know."
"I'll take good care of you," Bellatrix told Peter, raising her eyebrows. "You may be a talentless little Mudblood, but you did help to bring back our lord. I'll play nice, I promise."
Peter bit his tongue. He wasn't worried about being mistreated by Bellatrix; he couldn't imagine her being any worse than Snape. But to live alongside Sirius's killer, to listen to her gloat over her triumph….
You have no right to be angry, he told himself again. His death is your fault, too.
"Come on, Wormy, let's get out of this rubbish heap," Bellatrix said. Lily had called him Wormy sometimes, too. The name had sounded far nicer on her tongue.
You have no right, Peter. Just go with her.
Swallowing back his objections, Peter clenched his fists and nodded a brief goodbye to Snape, who refused even to meet his eyes in response. Then he turned and followed the Black sisters out of the old house on Spinner's End, feeling his heart growing heavier and heavier with each step.
