Chapter 2: Peter's Dream and What Followed
(Author's note: This chapter took an unexpected twist, but thank goodness it did! The story would have stayed a bunch of lame scenes, strung on a fragile plot with out this chapter, but now it has the first sub-plot. Please note: I do not own any characters, but I have taken the following liberties with them: Peter is mediocre-looking at first glance, but on closer inspection proves quite good-looking. Also, I require Voldemort to have a forked tongue, so bear with me.)
Peter woke with a jolt as he was sent tumbling head over heels by what felt like an earthquake. Then he remembered that he was in rat form and that he had been napping next to his lord's pillow. He scrambled to his feet and looked around. Voldemort was sprawled on his back, having just thrown himself down on his bed. Wormtail took a few moments to allow his eyes to linger on the figure of the man he considered to be the most beautiful on the planet. The others followed him for power, and the chance to be cruel. Wormtail followed him from true devotion. He could not help it. He just had to be as close and useful to Voldemort as possible.
"Wormtail? Is that you? Are you there?" The Dark Lord called out softly. Wormtail scurried out from behind the pillow, sprang to the floor and transformed.
"Yes, My Lord?"
Voldemort did an odd thing. He pulled his robes and cloak aside and said:
"Come and sit down. I want to talk to you." When Peter was seated, he gazed at his servant for a minute, making sure his question was phrased so that fear would not make Wormtail lie.
"Do you think Severus Snape is too ambivalent to our cause to be persuaded to stop playing spy and to give his loyalty to Dumbledore? I don't want him around anymore, dubiously loyal or not, but I have no real objection to him switching sides."
Peter listened incredulously. Why, this could fit in perfectly with what he was supposed to do next Death Eater meeting, assuming he believed the dream he'd had… Yet his instincts dictated that he be cautious. First, was this really a coincidence? Second, could he really kill two birds with one stone?
"Well, my Lord, before I answer, I have one question: what provoked this state of affairs? Why not just kill him? And, did you by any chance have odd dreams last night, too?"
Voldemort sat bolt upright, coming almost nose to nose with Wormtail, who might have flinched, but there was no anger in the red eyes, only surprise.
"How did you know?" Voldemort murmured.
"Well, because I dreamed about J-James, L-lily ans S-Sirius. They suggested the perfect way to get rid of S-Snape, if you don't mind him ending up very happy."
"Oh. I see. Well I dreamed of someone different, so this is probably coincidence. What is their plan? How happy will he get?"
"Well…Oh, blast! It won't work, I wasn't thinking."
"Tell me. Maybe we can make it work." The Dark Lord's voice was shockingly gentle and reasonable, so Peter dared explain.
"The thing is, they're trying to give three people a break, one of them's Snape, and one is Harry Potter. They want me to slip Snape a love potion, so he falls in love with Harry Potter."
"But what's wrong with that? It's perfect. He cannot stay borderline if he is in love with the boy-who-bloody-would-not-die. He'll practically have to join the order."
May be the fact that he was inches away from Lord Voldemort was making him light-headed, but Peter had the insane desire to knock on Voldemort's head and say: Hello? Is anyone there? I just suggested we make Harry Potter and Severus Snape as happy as two people in love - literally!
Instead, he frowned and said cautiously, "So, you don't mind making Potter happy in the process? You see, he's developed at least a crush on Snape, if not something stronger."
"Annoying, but I live with annoyance, like the rest of the world," responded the Dark lord calmly.
"So…can I do it? Can I make up the potion and give it to him like I was instructed?"
"Can you? Go ahead, but keep it…under your hat, so to speak. This is, admittedly, out of character for me, and I don't want to cause a mutiny on the basis that I seem to have gone soft!" This last was said half in drawling jest, but it still made Peter growl:
"Just let them try it! Do what you like, My Lord, you'll always have me."
The man who had once been Tom Marvolo Riddle sank bank until he was leaning on his elbows, looking up at Peter. What a mystery Peter was, even after all these years.
"Peter, what makes you tick? What is it that makes you a loyal, useful servant to me and a blundering incompetent fool to Dumbledore? You barely graduated, and desperately needed your three best friends to hold your hand, so what changed when you joined me? How did you know that this was your place in the world?"
"I couldn't't say, my Lord." Peter replied stiffly, staring at the wall over Voldemort's head. "I do my best to serve you."
"Bur why?" demanded Voldemort, unable to hide any longer how badly he wanted to know. "Why, Peter, Why? Why do you do your best to serve me? Why did you turn your back on the only support and companionship you were ever likely to have? What have I ever given you?"
"Power, revenge, a chance to play with my inner demons." Peter's response was
given in a monotone, like someone reciting a boring lesson.
"Fine!" The Dark Lord's eyes flashed dangerously as a glimmer of hope, kindled there by a look in Peter's eyes earlier, faded to nothing more than a stubborn spark. However, that last dying ember made him push Peter father. "But what else. Tell me the truth, the whole truth, Peter."
"Why do you care?" Peter snapped, springing to his feet. The downside to loving his lord was his lord's ability to goad him into losing control. "I can't leave you now, I'm not going to anyway, and so you have in me a totally loyal, if incapable servant." He strode to the door, only to be halted by a single, soft word.
"Please!"
Peter froze. "What did you say?" His voice was strained almost to a squeak.
"P-please, don't run away. Please tell me. I have to know. Please, Peter, please!"
Wormtail turned and stared at the Dark Lord for what felt like a long while. He could not tell how long; time seemed distorted.
"Am I dreaming? I must be to hear you talking like that," he wondered aloud.
"So what if you are? Just go with it. You can bet anything you want that in a short while you'll be awakened by a shout and a kick." The red eyes were glinting with triumph, hope, and laughter – of all things – which is what really convinced Peter that he was dreaming. He would just go with it. He approached Voldemort and sat once again beside him.
"I switched sides because I fell in love with you." he said simply, then leaned down and kissed the Dark Lord. Soon all he could think of was how sexy a forked tongue was. He barely noticed long, skeletal arms encircling him and pulling him down…