Disclaimer (A Haiku):
I write for nothing
Rowling created this world
I simply play here
Years Ago From Now: Chapter 23
It had taken a few months and a very uncomfortable evening of stroking her long red-painted fingernails through Peter Pettigrew's already thinning hair while Lucius looked on in seeming approval of the flirtation that brought the Malfoy family to February 22nd.
For most of January and February, Sterling Parkinson had been dosing an Order member with a steadily growing dose of an enmity potion keyed to one Peter Pettigrew. Caradoc Dearborn had started off with vague disapproving looks at Peter during meetings for the Order of the Phoenix. From there, it had grown to barbed insults that made most members (with a few Marauder exceptions) shift uncomfortably in their seats.
It had finally accumulated to Dearborn's public loathing of Pettigrew, Sterling was happy to report. Dearborn had made a very mean, very loud joke about how pathetic Pettigrew was in the accounting office of the Ministry of Magic, while Pettigrew's own face across the hall with a team of Aurors had returned a look of absolutely hatred for his own ally to the cause. What had been a rather distant if entirely civil relationship had turned into nasty looks and even nastier words, and now they were ready to push Peter Pettigrew over the edge and into the Dark for good.
The only people that knew of Pettigrew's luring toward the Dark were Lord Voldemort, the Malfoys, Sterling Parkinson, and Pettigrew himself. Of course, the latter would say that he was just finding powerful friends that understood they were on different sides of a political landscape if anyone had known. He was perfectly happy keeping it a secret, though.
At roughly seven in the evening, Narcissa Malfoy (a name she was finally learning to expect more than her actual name) was applying the final bit of rouge to her cheeks when her husband entered the bedroom. "The Dark Lord, Parkinson, and Dearborn are in the drawing room cellar. Pettigrew is due to arrive soon. Are you ready, love?" His hands came to rest on his wife's shoulders, rubbing gently and taking note of how tense she was.
Hermione was very much not ready. Caradoc Dearborn. She had known the name. Harry had shown her and Ron the picture Moody had given to him. He had simply disappeared, no trace of him ever found. This… it made sense.
She knew no good would come from tonight, and she was expected to help with Peter. She knew only one thing for certain. She and Lucius would survive the night, and that was more than she had to say for Dearborn. A piece of history previously unknown to her…cleared up only as she lived it. She was just a puppet to the timeline.
Lucius removed his hand and pulled two small vials from his robes. He handed one to her and uncapped them both. "A bit of liquid calm. It should help, but your occlumency shields will help even more. Calm down so you can get them up, and then let's get moving."
Torture. She knew that was the plan. Torture until Pettigrew felt confident enough to take Dearborn's life. She had only seen torture once… when Crouch disguised as Moody tortured the poor spider. It had made her feel horribly sick and angry at the time. And then her own… but never as a bystander to another human's pain, unable to try and help them. Being a party to it was something she couldn't quite fathom. But she had to do just that.
She downed the vial and stood, looking at Lucius. "Maybe… maybe he gets away. Disappears and just… never comes back. I don't know he is going to die." They were platitudes, and Lucius knew it. He nodded anyway.
"We must play our parts, Cissa. Let's go." He wrapped an arm around her waist and escorted her down the stairs to the foyer. A man would die in this house… with her son sleeping only two floors away. Even knowing that Draco would likely never know, it still seemed as if it would taint his innocence in some way.
Near the fireplace where Pettigrew would soon come through, Lucius lifted a hand and turned her face toward his. "Focus on me, love. This is but one of the nightmares we will be forced to endure. Just remember, it will all be okay in the end." He crooked a finger underneath her chin and tilted it up to kiss her.
She tentatively touched her tongue to his lip, encouraging him to deepen the kiss and let her forget for a moment. She needed to focus on something else. His hands slid around her, reaching down to cup her backside and pull her firmly toward him. She moaned, running her hands into his hair.
Moments passed, and they didn't stop until a throat cleared. They pulled away slowly, turning to look at a sheepish Peter Pettigrew, trying to disguise the lust in his eyes. Lucius squeezed her waist one last time in encouragement. Action.
She pulled away from her husband and sauntered to Pettigrew while Lucius nodded in welcome. "Peter! Thank you so much for joining us. You wouldn't believe what I heard today…"
"Oh?" Pettigrew said thickly, wrapping an arm around her and kissing both of her cheeks.
She pulled away and frowned. "It seems someone has been spreading nasty gossip about you at the ministry. A friend of mine in accounting told me Caradoc Dearborn has been saying… well, absolutely horrid things. Talking about, you know…" She leaned toward his ear and whispered, "your prowess."
She pulled away. "I assured her that I expected you to be a fully capable wizard, but… well, anyway, I mentioned it to Lucius, and he spoke to Sterling Parkinson who had heard similar things from Caradoc. The two of them thought you might like to set the record straight before… well, before anyone starts to take these ramblings too seriously."
Lucius cleared his throat, "While Narcissa and I are most willing to be your… advocates, sometimes it is best for a man to deal with his own problems, is it not?"
Pettigrew's face had grown cold at the mention of Caradoc, only the tips of his pink ears showing his embarrassment. "Yes, Lucius. What were you thinking?"
Lucius smirked and gestured toward the door into the drawing room. Peter seemed comfortable with such a thing as he had been in the drawing room several times before. However, Hermione felt him stop abruptly when Lucius waved his wand over a desk and the carpet on the floor seemed to… dematerialize, revealing a staircase downward. Lucius looked at him, sternly. "Come on, Peter."
"It's our secret, Peter. Only our closest friends know it is here," Hermione whispered in his ear again. Resolutely, Peter nodded, and he led Hermione down the stairs after Lucius.
Peter audibly gasped when he saw that the room downstairs had already been occupied. He recognized Sterling Parkinson but not the handsome, well dressed man that he was speaking too. What mostly got his attention was seeing Caradoc Dearborn tightly tied to a chair in the middle of the room, though.
It was obviously already not a day that Caradoc would have put in his top five. His lower lip had obviously been severely busted and was swollen to thrice its normal size. Add to that the fact that there was a gash that was bleeding rather profusely on his collarbone, his shirt torn around it. His eyes were covered by a blindfold, and he hadn't reacted when they entered the room.
Peter looked at Lucius and Sterling in panic, and Hermione felt him almost take a step back. "I… I don't understand."
Sterling took the lead. "You've been a topic of conversation for us for a while now, Peter. Lucius and Narcissa have had such good things to say. As a pureblood wizard of your caliber, we thought it despicable to have this pathetic halfblood ruining your good name at the ministry. The things he was saying…."
Caradoc didn't respond. Peter correctly assumed that he was spelled not to hear anything.
"I told Lucius and Sterling that a man should be given the opportunity to prove himself for what he is. You have the right to defend your good name," the Dark Lord said.
"I… I don't think I know you, sir," Pettigrew said, shaking a little bit in discomfort.
Lord Voldemort raised an eyebrow and looked at Lucius who shrugged delicately. "I apologize, my Lord. I thought it would be obvious. I think they imagine something much different, though, in all fairness."
Lord Voldemort chuckled, "Yes. I think Dumbledore has scared them into believing I am some sort of half-snake monster, rather than just an ambitious man with goals and people willing to help me achieve them."
It took a few seconds, and then Pettigrew seemed to be in a bit of a stupor. Hermione rolled her eyes discreetly before whispering it once again. "Say hello to the Dark Lord, Peter."
Peter startled but then managed to stutter out, "Hello… Lor…. Lor…"
"My Lord," Sterling, Lucius, and Hermione supplied, helpfully in unison.
"My Lord," Peter gasped out, bowing in a very angular way that made Sterling roll his eyes not so discreetly.
"Hello, Mr. Pettigrew. Yes, Lucius and Narcissa have been singing your praises for months now. While I appreciate Lucius looking out for your mother an am terribly sorry to hear of her injury, I am happy that there was reason for him to reach out in a way you would find acceptable. You see, we have need of a man of your talents," Voldemort said, confidently.
Peter seemed shocked. "My… talents?"
"Yes, of course. You are an intelligent, well connected, pureblood wizard. Lucius would not advise me to take in trash. I seek out those that I believe to truly be useful in society, and you will be! Wizarding Britain needs men of your abilities."
"My… my animagus abilities?" Pettigrew asked, obviously confused as to what abilities he had that would be deemed especially desirable. The Dark Lord's eyes widened, an expression of surprise mirrored on the faces of Sterling and Lucius.
"An animagus! I was unaware! Did Lucius know?"
"I… I… no. But I am. A rat animagus. Rather smaller than, but…" Peter's ears flushed pink.
"What a useful animal to turn into! Rats might be small, but they are wonderful creatures. Smart, fast, and real survivors. You are very lucky not to be some hulking thing that can't get by unnoticed. What's the use in being able to become an animal if you can't use it to your advantage around people," Voldemort flattered. "Unregistered, I assume?"
"Yes,….my Lord," Peter said, receiving another smile in response.
Lord Voldemort waved a hand as if to let go of the conversation. He looked at Caradoc bound to the chair. "Peter, Caradoc Dearborn… I would say he is an enemy to me. And yours, too…"
Pettigrew shook his head, taking a half step backward and pulling his arm from Hermione's. "I… I wouldn't say we are enemies."
Sterling snorted, his nose turning up in a way that Hermione could easily envision Pansy doing in the future. "He would."
Lord Voldemort nodded, "Indeed, he would. You've heard the idiom, surely? The enemy of my enemy…"
"…is my friend?" continued Peter, looking at Caradoc as if his mind was miles away.
"Remove the blindfold and let him hear us," Voldemort instructed.
With the first muttered spell from Lucius, they watched as Caradoc jerked in his chair, obviously realizing that he was not alone now that he could suddenly hear again. Then, with the next, the blindfold was removed.
He looked wildly around the room for a few moments, trying to adjust his eyes to the light in the room after being in total darkness for the past several hours. After that, his eyes scanned the room more slowly. His first sight was of Parkinson, and he jerked once in his chair as if to try to escape, making Parkinson smirk.
"You pissed off the wrong people, Dearborn," Parkinson said, "Time is up for you."
Caradoc then turned his head and caught sight of the rest. His gaze fell in the direction of Hermione and Peter, but he only had eyes for the latter. Immediately, the potion induced hatred combined with the anger at being in his current situation allowed vitriol to start spewing from his mouth.
"Pettigrew, you rotten piece of shit. I should have known to expect… a Death Eater! Of course you would be. It's a shock I didn't see it before. Always willing to suck up to the big guy on the playground, aren't you? I bet they make you suck You-Know-Who's cock, don't they?"
"Crucio!" The Dark Lord said, causing Dearborn to convulse in his chair and scream until it was dropped a few seconds later.
While he sat there panting, Voldemort spoke to him. "I don't need to make anyone do that, and Pettigrew certainly isn't the person for the job," he supplied.
"His talents are best used elsewhere," Hermione added on, feeling her stomach churn at the thought, but getting a quick look of something unwanted from Peter. She ignored the look that Sterling sent to Lucius.
"You… you disgust me. Black and Potter… oh, oh they are going to make it hurt, Peter. When they find out… Don't know why they even gave you the time of day to begin with. Everyone knows you are a joke compared to them," Dearborn said. His sense of self-preservation seemed to be secondary to the potion in his system, not that Peter knew the difference.
"A joke?" Lucius said, bitingly. "Pettigrew is an animagus. There have been less than ten registered in this century. He's ten times the wizard you are, Dearborn. You take more after your muggle side."
Pettigrew seemed distinctly torn with what to do with his eyes. They moved between all of the people in the room as if trying to decide if one could possibly magic him out of his current circumstances. "I… What are you planning to do to him?"
"Not us, Peter… you. You have an opportunity here. An opportunity to defend your good name and rid yourself of the person that has been hurting your reputation."
"James and Sirius…" he started.
"My cousin is not here, Peter," Hermione said. "He's fighting for a rapidly losing side. Caradoc is just going to be a casualty of war. He will be forgotten by most, his name only important to those that manage to survive who know him best. Don't you want to be more than that?"
"I- I don't like him, but…that doesn't mean I want to kill him!"
"Of course he doesn't. He doesn't have the balls to really fight anyone, let alone kill them," Caradoc said, goading his own would-be tormenter. The effect was slightly too strong to be believable for someone who should be trying to bargain his way out. Sensing the same thing, Sterling silenced Caradoc and hit him roughly across the back of the head.
"Want….need…. they are merely words that signify action that must be taken. Let me phrase it this way, Peter," Voldemort said. "Caradoc is going to die here tonight… He is to be just another of what will be a growing number of dead the Order has to deal with before ultimately giving up. You must decide what side of it you want to be…"
"I… I didn't think I would ever have to… even if I did pass on tiny bits of information, I didn't think that… well, that…"
Lucius sighed, "Peter, you are a Gryffindor at heart, and it is hard for Gryffindors to see the forest for the trees. You have been given an opportunity to work your way from the losing side onto the winning one. We can make you powerful. The Dark Lord can provide you with status that someone of your more humble background would struggle to achieve otherwise. Your name can mean something."
"James… Remus… Sirius… if they knew, they…"
Hermione felt her gut churning as she sighed as if disappointed. "Perhaps they will see the error of their ways before it is too late. Do you really want to put yourself in their position? This way, you can talk to them. Subtly maneuver them. Lucius and I can help you. My cousin is a Black, and Lupin… a werewolf, I have heard?" She knew she had a part to play. She knew to do less than was expected would only lead to inevitably being pulled along with it or a break in the timeline that would be catastrophic. A disaster of magic that had untold levels of repercussions. Bad things happened to witches and wizards that messed with time.
Peter cleared his throat, uncomfortable with affirming or denying that information. His silence spoke volumes enough.
"I can use Black and Lupin. I have no desire to kill able bodied, valuable people. I simply want what we should all want… a strong, thriving magical community for generations to come." Voldemort chimed in.
"Caradoc will never see it that way. He's a half blood… married to a mudblood…. He's the way back," Sterling muttered, quietly.
"Yes, Sterling. Caradoc must die. He will. I want Peter to do it, though," The Dark Lord said, eyeing Peter seriously, staring into his eyes. Hermione was sure he was legilimizing him
"He can do it. I have faith in him," Lucius said.
"I know he can," The Dark Lord replied. "He just has to wrap his head around it. Think, Peter. Cardoc no longer bothering our efforts and no longer ruining your good name for the outside world. We might believe better, but who are the people you care about more likely to believe…. Us or their comrade? His words carry weight. This way, if you do it, you can choose how it goes for him. Quick and painless, long and drawn out. There will be absolutely no judgement from us."
"Draw your wand, Peter," Lord Voldemort said, quietly. "Sterling, take the charm off of Mr. Dearborn."
A moment later, Caradoc started laughing, "I might die here tonight, but my conscience will be clear… Pettigrew… you are on a one way ticket to hell for even being here, but we both know the truth… you can't do it. You've never been able to do the tough thing. That's why you surrounded yourself with more powerful friends. Now, you are just moving on to the next ground to take care of you, like the child you are. Useless. Malfoy's wife could even do it. She looks like she could off a man. Maybe she will off you… Maybe she just offs all of the Death Eaters."
Lucius even looked angry, but Peter snarled, aiming his wand at the man. Hermione took a step back to the door.
Caradoc looked at the wand in his face in shock for a moment, the truth of his position seeming to seep in a bit. Then, the potion took over again. "You? Cast the killing curse. You can't do it," he taunted. "You have to have more than an elementary ability for magic to cast that spell."
The words came out with hatred, "Avada Kedavra!"
Nothing happened. Caradoc actually smirked. Peter looked at his wand as if it had betrayed him and then at the people in the room. Sterling. Lucius. Voldemort. Narcissa. Any of them could kill if they needed, he was sure of it.
With a strength he didn't know he had, Peter bodily tacked Caradoc where he sat, throwing both of them to the floor. His hands wrapped around Caradoc's throat as he started to squeeze, screaming, "I'm not weak! They are my friends because I am worthy. They will make me worthy!" He jerked the neck in his hands, squeezing even tighter while Caradoc's eyes boggled in surprise. Finally, the potion he had been ingesting was circumvented by the terror of the situation. He was dying.
He tried to move his arms from his sides where they were bound, struggling desperately against the ropes. Something wasn't right…. He wasn't right. But Peter! Peter Pettigrew was choking him, and… he wasn't stopping.
"They will see! They will all see that I deserve more! I deserve what they have! I am just as good as them all, and just as good as you! Better even! I am better than you! You wouldn't be in this position if I weren't! They will all know! I'll prove it to them!"
After a few minutes of screaming in Caradoc's face, Peter's strength waned. His hands loosened, but Caradoc didn't respond. His eyes stared at the ceiling, unnaturally large as if death had caught him by surprise. Which it had.
Hermione had had enough. She backed up to the door, desperate to leave. She met eyes with Voldemort, and she forced herself to nod as if to say her job in the situation was done. He nodded in return, smiling slightly with approval burning in his eyes.
Peter's hands came up to wipe at his wet eyes and nose, looking up at the men in the room who nodded at him. Sterling reached out a hand to help him up off of the body of the man he had just murdered with his bare hands.
"Sterling, I trust you can make sure the body disappears. Let them speculate. Lucius and I are going to get our new friend here a drink," Voldemort said, ignoring the tears and placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Of course, My Lord," Sterling said, looking at Peter with a strange look of approval on his face that was at least partly genuine. Almost as if to say, "Who knew he had it in him at all?"
Hermione turned and walked up the stairs at a dignified pace. She waited until she was out of the drawing room and in the foyer before vomiting on the floor. It was almost immediately cleaned up by elf magic. She took a deep breath and went upstairs to her son's room.
Draco was asleep in his crib, seemingly untouched by the events of the past half hour. He looked so peaceful and sweet in his sleep. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his soft blonde hair. Then, with all of the grace and concern of a muggleborn witch that had spent one of her formative years living and starving and cold in a tent on the run, she laid down on the floor next to the crib and went to sleep.
Author's Note: Here's where things get tricky timeline wise. The original order photo timeline doesn't make sense best I can tell. It says Marlene McKinnon was killed 2 weeks after the photo was taken, in July of 1981. Caradoc Dearborn disappeared 6 months after the photo was taken... which would be roughly around Christmas of 1981, months after the war ended. So, I regrettably had to play with it. The picture was (in this story) taken during the holiday season of 1980. Caradoc Dearborn (as a barely mentioned character) had to die much sooner.
Thanks for reading! It got dark there, though not nearly as dark as other things I have written. Let me know what you thought!