A/N: Okay, before we begin the chapter, I'm going to include a long, vaguely encyclopedic Author's Note so that everyone's on board with what's going on in this story. If you're not interested in knowing talking about info concerning what's gone on thus far, feel free to skip ahead to the Chapter and (hopefully) enjoy it!
First, I'd like to discuss Peter's current ability level, and why he's as seemingly powerful as he is now. This recap will hopefully clear up some of the questions about the current state of things. Peter was able to become as fearsome of a duelist as he has in such a short time due to the following:
1. First and foremost, McGonagall misdiagnosed Peter's magical core as being pathetic – in truth, he was merely lacking the resolve and faith in himself to readily tap into it. He was basically in the same situation as when Spider-Man lost his abilities in Spider-Man 2 – because he fundamentally didn't believe he could do anything, he wasn't able to do anything at all. So, unbeknownst to him, his magical core had actually fully opened up to him once he began his furious mission to alter the future.
2. Most wizards and witches do not even know about the four pillars of the magical core. Peter is excelling at daily exercising each of them, which is basically supercharging his potency and ability to trump his opponents' spells in battle (especially due to the fact that it was originally significantly stronger than he'd realized). His body pillar (through the might of his magically altered body) and mind pillar (through his psychotically focused will to defeat Voldemort) are especially strong for a wizard.
3. Peter has been doing practically nothing but furiously studying the offensive arts for 6 months straight. He has read nearly every book in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library pertaining to DADA at this point, jotting down notes on anything that could potentially assist him. He'd then take those notes to Hagrid's hut and try them all out until he was capable of satisfactorily casting them. Most graduates or students of Hogwarts have never undergone a militaristic training schedule purely focused on gaining the ability to murder Death Eaters and a Dark Lord before, which partly explains the apparent power difference. Peter's abilities are built from the ground up through disciplined toil, turmoil, and focus.
4. As McGonagall mentioned (accurately, this time), Peter had only managed a surface-deep magical immersion by the start of Chapter 3. This was completely turned on its head during the Pettigrew Family Ritual – he has access to, and is constantly swimming in, the magical particles of his ancestors now.
5. Peter didn't realize it at the time, but he really has the potential to be an unnaturally powerful wizard in general – remember, as discussed in Prisoner of Azkaban, Peter's ability to decimate a Muggle town, making a crater forty feet (!) deep with the impact, completely destroying sewers a hundred feet below the surface (!), and simultaneously killing twelve muggles, all with one spell, was discussed as being incredibly powerful and making him extremely dangerous. Rowling seemed to forget about his having any such abilities in the subsequent books, but the point is, according to PoA's interpretation, Peter has an edge on other common wizards and witches already, for unknown reasons.
All these things combine to make him, at present in this story, a significantly ahead-of-the-grade wizard, though he is far less powerful than Voldemort or his top lieutenants at the moment. Note that, thus far, he's only wielded spells that are established in the HP canon, with the only exceptions being his family curse. I aim to avoid making Peter a Super!Peter – he's just well-informed and a potent duelist.
Also, some people are weirded out by the quick souring of the relationship between Peter and the Marauders. Here is what Rowling once said about Peter's relationship with the others and his potential:
"Pettigrew, who they, in a slightly patronizing way - James and Sirius at least - who they allowed to hang round with them, it turned out that he was a better wizard than they knew. Turned out he was better at hiding secrets than they knew." – J.K. Rowling, MuggleNet, July 16, 2005.
I take this to mean that Prongs and Padfoot enjoyed him being around them, similarly to one would a clumsy, suckup court jester. They clearly trusted him, as well, eventually choosing him as their secret keeper. Unfortunately for them, the Peter in my story is no longer going out of his way to try and foster a friendship with them by continually showering them with compliments and trying his hardest to win their affection through jokes and prank ideas, AND he's doing all kinds of crazy crap behind their backs.
In my story, Sirius is, beneath his purposefully silly playboy posturing, a sweetheart with an ego, so he really does miss Peter and want to pick up where they left off, though of course he'd like a demonstration of more committed friendship from him. (Remus and Lily both are still completely committed to being friends with Peter, by the way)
James, on the other hand, is basically a milder version of Draco Malfoy, who actually does have a sense of humor and is capable of deep, committed love and friendship, but is fundamentally arrogant, a bully, and an eager celebrity. I'm of the belief that James really IS like that in his fifth year at Hogwarts, from what we've glimpsed in canon. His elderly parents spoiled him from birth, Rowling said, so he's just a bit of a prick. He's Draco with a heart, really, except on the opposite side of the blood purity debate. I don't have anything against James, however, and I look forward to developing his character a lot over the course of the story, so please don't take my borderline antagonistic version of him as he is right now to be bashing. More than anything, he's just in a completely different place psychologically than Peter (or Remus, Lily, or Tessa) is at this point.
Next up, as I meant to do a long time ago, here is a list of all noteworthy characters and their ages and House membership. (Some are different than that of canon – I made it this way so we could have more interesting interpersonal relationships going on)
Gryffindor Fifth Years - The Marauders, Lily Evans, Alice Fenten
Gryffindor Fourth Year - Tessa Prewitt
Gryffindor Seventh Year - Gilderoy Lockhart
Ravenclaw Fifth Years - Xenophilius Lovegood, Elias Zabini (Blaise's Uncle)
Hufflepuff Fifth Years - Rita Skeeter, Amelia Bones
Slytherin Fourth Year - Narcissa Black
Slytherin Fifth Years – Severus Snape, Rosier, Wilkes
Slytherin Sixth Years - Bellatrix Black, Alecto Carrow, Rodolphus and Rastaban Lestrange
Lucius Malfoy and Molly Prewitt were in the same year as each other (in the Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses, respectively), and are four years older than Peter.
I think that's basically everyone!
I hope that this super-long author's note has been helpful (and hopefully interesting) to you in some way! Also, if you have any questions at all concerning what's happened in the story so far, absolutely feel free to message me (or include them in your review, of course). I guarantee I'll answer. :)
Acknowledgements: I'd like to offer my deep gratitude to NoxedSalvation, who beta'd this chapter and the next. I hope its length and lack of sanity haven't scared you off, Noxed! :) J.K. Rowling also wrote a tiny, little-known series of novels to which I may owe a spell or character or two.
Now, at long last – on to the story! :0
Rise of the Fourth Marauder
Chapter 6 – Ruminations in G-Minor
A heavy, awkward silence draped across the Malfoy grounds.
This night wasn't going at all how I'd planned it. I wanted to avoid the risk of even blowing my cover, after all. If Amycus hadn't been such a vicious person for practically no reason, then I wouldn't have been forced to hold a public execution…and his splattered organ bits wouldn't currently be dripping into my eyes.
At least I could hope that, given the attention drawn to this duel, the Dark Lord would hopefully decide not to attack tonight – there's no doubt that the media will be covering this, and he wouldn't want to share headline space with someone like me. Which reminds me…I really need to brace myself for some media questioning. I shivered in memory of my slim dealings with the media so far.
I cast a few cleaning charms on my robes and Abraxas, who noticeably flinched when I raised my wand at him. Feeling a bit lightheaded from the expense of magical energy (I must have really been at my limit), I nonetheless forced myself to stand steadily and confidently, and risked looking around the crowd to gauge their reaction to the duel.
The general feeling I was picking up from everyone was terror, much like that of Abraxas, although fortunately there was a detectable feeling of curiosity. Curiosity I can work with. But it's clear that people don't really know what to think, and are afraid, yet they're not running away. The middle-aged wizards from the press, of course, seem to be staring at me hungrily, like I'm a captured wild dragon.
As I continued rapidly looking around, I was able to pick out a few familiar faces. Tessa looked, contrary to my expectations, horrified – had I crossed a line with her somehow? Dammit…at this rate I'll really not have any friends.
James and Sirius looked shocked, like they'd just been informed they were pregnant or something; when I made eye contact with them, I tried to give a genuine smile, but James immediately answered with a glare. So much for that.
Rita looked nothing short of gleeful, which was somewhat disturbing to observe.
I looked for my mum, who had the Portkey back to our house, but I couldn't spot her, for some reason. Instead, my eyes fell upon the piercing gaze of Bellatrix Lestrange, much to my surprise. Apparently someone had been able to dispel the Comatone Curse I'd placed on her earlier. Her expression was hard to read, but she gave me a small smile when our eyes met.
The remaining Carrows were easy to spot – Alecto and her parents were the only people moving, likely seeking to rendezvous in order to Portkey out of there in order to run from the shame I'd brought upon them.
After that long moment of stillness, everyone seemed to simultaneously let out the breath they'd been holding in and begin loudly discussing amongst themselves in a steadily growing crescendo of…anger? Hysteria? I had no idea, but there definitely wasn't a positive vibe in the air.
I gulped, casting my eyes about once more for my mum. Where the hell was she? I hoped nothing had happened to her due to my actions.
The seemingly most upbeat people about the situation were the reporters, of course, who had finally made their way over to the base of the dueling platform.
"Peter Pettigrew!" I barely heard the closest woman yell up to me – she was blonde and wearing a white dress robe patterned with blue roses, which miraculously, she was able to pull off without looking utterly ridiculous. "Heliodelphia Lovegood at your service, from The Quibbler!" I nodded to her in greeting.
"And I'm Willow Warbley from The Daily Prophet!" said a much older witch with a beehive hairdo, grudgingly.
Yet another witch struggled through the crowd to greet me. "Wait, wait! Peter, I'm…"
I suddenly felt the skin on the back of my neck stand on end in warning, and quickly spun around and raised a shield charm. Unfortunately, shield charms don't work on physical objects like a broken bottle of firewhiskey, so I quickly ducked out of the way, barely catching it with a Levitation Charm before it damaged anyone in the crowd.
"Sorry about that! Why don't I make myself a more difficult target?" I proposed to the reporters, before turning to Abraxas, who was still floating close by, giving him a quick bow and saying, "Thank you very much for inviting my family to this festival, Your Lordship. The grounds are truly spectacular!" Not knowing what else to say, I quickly jumped off the platform before I did something to accidentally offend him. I realized as I did that I was feeling oddly dizzy and exhausted, in a way that even my endless practicing sessions hadn't made me. That Earthrending spell must have killed my magical reserves.
The three witches and several other scribes and cameramen swarmed around me, their eyes bugging out in excitement at landing an interesting story. I decided to make sure my answers were polite and sophisticated, always allowing a modicum of truth in my words so I could make each answer convincing – I'm still not a terribly good liar.
They began questioning me, but it was extremely difficult to hear, as the Festival's crowd was pulsing and chattering away at such a volume. I didn't want to cast a Muffliato, however, since I needed to keep an ear open just in case someone else tried to attack me.
"My apologies, but could you please speak up? And one at a time, please. Er…starting with you, Ms. Lovegood, as you were here first."
The other two witches looked very put out by my decision, but I couldn't really care less about their hurt feelings.
"Alright – Mr. Pettigrew, what can you tell us about the history between your family and the Carrows?" Heliodelphia asked, raising her voice over the volume of the crowd.
"That's a bit of a sticky question, I'm afraid. I'm not sure what I'm permitted to tell anyone at this time," I said honestly, hoping I didn't come across as being too naive.
"So you're saying that you're not in a position of power in this conflict?" Warbley asked.
"In matters of family politics and privacy, of course not. My father is the one that calls the shots, as is the case for most families. Er…he, unfortunately, was not able to attend the Festival this year, although I'm certain he'd be happy to take your questions should you set up an appointment with him."
Woohoo! So far, I think I'm managing to come off looking intelligent and stately; like a politician, I hope. I wish I felt as confident as I sounded, though...my vision was starting to noticeably wobble.
It was now the third witch's turn, so she shuffled her way closer in and said, "Hey, I didn't get to finish introducing myself earlier! My name's Aquamarine Lockhart," AH! Someone from Lockhart's family! No wonder she looked and acted so much less solemn than the other two. "I'm reporting for Witch Weekly. Er…I was wondering – do you have someone special in your life?"
I suppressed an eyeroll and adopted a playful grin. "I do not. I've never even been kissed, in fact."
Aquamarine gasped, quickly gesturing to her cameraman to get in close and continue taking pictures of me. I didn't want to squint from the blaring camera flashes (the other two papers had brought cameramen as well) and risk showing any sign of weakness, so I turned my head and looked to where I hoped Heliodelphia Lovegood was still standing.
"What can you tell us about that spell you were employing tonight?" she asked.
"The one with all the spikes?" I grinned. "Unfortunately, I can't disclose much about that spell, either, for security purposes. However, I can assure you that I did not use any Dark Magic tonight, unlike my opponent. Though I don't mean to speak ill of the dead, of course."
"Too late!" Heliodelphia informed me with a slightly derisive laugh.
It was the crone from the Prophet's turn now. "Which side are you aligned with, Mr. Pettigrew: the Dark Lord's or the Ministry's?"
I smirked. "I can't comment, except to say that there are more sides than merely those two."
"So, Peter – what's your favorite pastime?" Lockhart.
"Er…dueling, I suppose," I chuckled. "I dunno if that counts as a pastime, though. I admit, however, that I enjoy watching a good game of Quidditch, and, er, exploring haunted mansions, and, you know, searching for obscure magical texts. Nothing too romantic, I'm afraid."
She winked at me. "We'll see!" I shivered a little.
Lovegood now. "Peter, why did you decide to kill Carrow in the duel? Did the two of you declare it a duel to the death, or was there some other reason?"
"Indeed! Why would you risk facing criminal charges to see him dead?" Warbley demanded.
I honestly had no earthly idea why I killed him. He may have been a Death Eater, but I never planned to kill him beforehand, really. All I know is that, after he shot all those curses at me, I suddenly wanted to rip him apart…to bathe in his blood. I needed to feel his life spill from his worthless body.
"Er…well, to be completely honest, I didn't really mean to kill him," I lied, "I'd never even tried out that particular curse I used until just now. I knew from my research that it would be powerful, but I didn't know exactly what effect it would have on my opponent. My main goal tonight was to restore and uphold my family's honor. Amycus's death was an unfortunate side effect that I hadn't anticipated."
"Yet you seemed…pleased when he died," Warbley said, admirably masking her fear.
"Of course I was. I'd won the duel, and it was against a more experienced wizard who had just publicly insulted my family several times this evening. If I seemed pleased, it was due to victory, not for any other reason." Man…these questions are really beginning to push my current energy capacity to the limit…
"Peter, do you prefer younger or older girls? And are you currently seeking someone to marry once you come of age?" Lockhart asked excitedly. I don't think she was even remotely paying attention to what the other two were asking me. However, this was really the first question of hers which I needed to make certain I answered carefully.
"Hmm…I don't suppose I really have a preference for age, as long as she's not significantly removed from my own in either direction. As for your other question, I…suppose…I'm tentatively looking for a partner at present, although I only decided to do so a few days ago." I hoped that sounded vaguely polite – it wouldn't do to bring the Carrows any further insult from my actions and words. I didn't want to sound too desperate, either, which wouldn't fit the new image I was trying to convey.
"Do you have any goals that you're currently pursuing in life, Mister Pettigrew?"
"Honestly, I'm just hoping to get through this war with my family and closest friends still alive. I currently don't have any other great aspirations beyond that," I told Lovegood. That was basically the truth.
"Do you have any tips for wizards on matching your ability?"
"Er, yes…um, let's see…"
As I frantically began preparing a mental list for the press, I noticed a very nervous-looking, but oh-so-cute Molly Prewitt dash towards me. I made room for her inside the circle of reporters while the cameras began rapid-shooting.
"H-hi, Peter!" she said, her face very red, before turning to the onslaught of flashing light. "Um…Peter has requested sanctuary at the Prewitt Overlook if something unexpected were to happen."
I didn't remember ever saying anything like that, so I was instantly suspicious. I wouldn't have had any problem with visiting the Prewitts' home, but this could have been a spy for the Dark Lord under Polyjuice! I didn't want to make a scene or look wary, though, in case it was Molly, so I just smiled at her sunnily and remained quiet.
"And, since I'm fairly certain that this, er, night qualifies as 'unexpected,'" she turned to me, brushing a lock of gorgeous red hair from her golden eyes. "You're welcome to apparate back with me, if you wish."
I didn't know how much longer I could take all this insanity, and my mum was NOWHERE to be seen, so it did seem like a viable option. Granted, I was completely uncertain as to why "Molly" was doing this – if it really was her, then she was probably unwilling to share her true purpose in front of the media. On the other hand, she could've been taking me straight into a trap, if it wasn't her.
Bleh.
However, turning her down in front of all these cameras, regardless of her true identity, would certainly cause a rift between our two families as far as the public's concerned, and possibly even ignite a feud! I couldn't have that.
"Certainly, Molly! Thank you so much for coming to find me!" I grinned, clapping her on the shoulder twice to comfort her, as she looked faintly scared of me.
The reporters immediately jumped in.
"Is there an alliance between your families?"
"I thought you said you were single!"
"Why would you ask for Sanctuary? From whom?"
"Do you share a room together?"
I didn't bother answering any of them and just looked seriously at Molly. "As soon as possible would be amazing, if you don't mind." Even if she is a Death Eater, I'm fairly confident that I could escape from a trap, through the use of my Animagus form and the various new spells at my disposal.
Molly nodded twice, took both of my hands in her dainty ones, pulled me in close to her (with her legendary breasts squeezing against my chest in the process), and tightly spun us around on the spot.
(Prewitt Overlook - Patio)
A few seconds of nauseatingly warped travel later, Molly and I arrived at…somewhere. We were apparently in some type of sunroom, with an entire wall missing, looking out over what appeared to be an enormous ravine. The room itself contained very little colour that wasn't earth-tone; all throw rugs, furniture, and even paintings seemed to be varying shades of brown.
At any rate, it didn't look like a trap to me. Unless she was planning on pushing me off the cliff. Therefore, I assumed that it was indeed Molly, and that I was, in fact, at the Prewitt Overlook.
Now I need to find out why.
"Er, so…hi there," I said, stepping away from her sinfully desirable body with regret.
Molly smiled. "Welcome to our family home, Peter! You're doubtlessly wondering why I've brought you here!"
"That would indeed be the case," I said, blushing. Man, it is REALLY tough for me to keep my mind out of the gutter when I'm around her. I can't help but desire her body pressed up against me…and I'd been doing exactly that less than ten seconds ago.
"Well, first of all, I figured you needed a bit of a hand getting away from those reporters, so I spun that sanctuary story on the spot!" she said with a grin. "I know you're not much of a people person."
"Wow, that was…very considerate of you," I said. "I had very nearly reached my limit."
"I hope I didn't cause too much trouble for you, though," she said hesitantly. "Now everyone's going to think our families are allied or something."
"Well, to be perfectly honest, there are few families I'd rather be allied with more than you lot," I said with complete sincerity. The Prewitts are not only my friends but are also traditionally neutrally aligned, with just a slight tendency toward the dark. No matter what my plans end up being concerning the Dark Lord, they would be a very logical strategic ally.
"Awww! Thank you, Peter! You're such a darling," Molly said, coming forth and squeezing me in a tight hug.
Thanks, Merlin! I owe you one, buddy!
"So…was there another reason you wanted me to come here?" I asked, savoring the feel of her soft, unbelievable body against mine until she eventually pulled away.
"Yes – I have something important to discuss with you in private, and I didn't know when I'd get another chance."
"Ah, I see. So, is Tessa…not here?"
"I assume she's upstairs already; the four of us returned together, but I came back for you on my own."
Wow! I feel…valued. What a strange feeling. Dammit, now I want to hug her again. Those breasts should be illegal! "O-oh yeah? I was wondering why I didn't see them – your brothers – at the Festival."
She shrugged. "I have no idea! Probably off doing some undercover Auror work or whatever else they choose not to tell me about. I have a very secretive family."
"I see. Well…should I go introduce myself to them, since I'm staying in their home?" I asked with a wince. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be around Aurors so soon after I'd publicly murdered Carrow, even though I could use dueling as an excuse. The Court was hopelessly corrupt, and seemed to go either way on whether murder in the duel ring constituted a crime.
"I'd…wait, until I've had a chance to explain the situation to them. They might not, er, take a liking to you right away," she said with a cute smile.
"Speaking of which…you're being…awfully trusting by being alone with me after seeing what I did to Carrow back there."
"Oh? Should I be wary of you?" she asked, looking wholly unthreatened by me.
"Of course not. I'd never do anything to harm either you or Tessa," I said, quite honestly.
"I know you wouldn't – I trust Tessa, and she has complete trust in you. Besides, if you DID experience a moral lapse and do something to me, do you know how hurt Tessa would be?"
"Aw, I'm sure she'd get over it!" I said with a chuckle.
"Hi-ya!" Molly cried, landing a completely unexpected karate chop on my skull. There was a good deal of force behind it, too.
"Wh-what the?" I asked in bewilderment, holding my now-throbbing head.
"Wrong answer, Peter," she said, smirking at me. "You need to always keep Tessa's best interests at heart!"
"H-h-hey now, I'm trying my best!" I said, blushing and walking over to the missing wall in the room, which was wide open, displaying the enormous chasm. "WHOA! This is an incredible sight!" I gasped, looking over the ledge. I had never heard of such a deep ravine before. It was dark out, and I couldn't see the bottom, but I could see many flocks of strange neon pink birds throughout the pit, the moonlight glinting off their wings. "Where are we, anyway?"
"Well, I can't tell you our geographic location," Molly said, coming up alongside me and peering into the deep. "That's a secret. But our house is built into the side of the cliff, hanging over the vast nothingness below. Obviously." She smirked at me. "I'm not a big fan of heights, though, so I typically prefer avoiding these viewing rooms. I actually like pretending that our house is really on the ground, that this sight is just a beautifully-designed enchantment."
"I can sort of get what you mean; I'd absolutely not want to be near the ledge on a windy day. So, shall we…talk on the couch, then?"
"You've wanted to ask me that for a while now, haven't you? But I'll share it with you just this once, if only to get away from this pit of doom!" Molly grinned, leading the way back to a sepia couch.
I stared at her arse the entire way as one would admire a beautiful art painting. How did she get it to be SO beautiful? The size and shape are JUST right, the way it moves is so expressively hypnotic…
DAMN, I need a girlfriend.
We sat down next to each other and she clasped her hands over her crossed legs and continued, "Anyway, I spent a long time warding this room with various privacy charms before I returned to the party to fetch you. Your duel was just ending when I arrived, and you were SO impressive! I can't even imagine how much a spell like that must have drained your body's supply of magical energy."
"Yeah, I figured. I feel like I'm barely able to stay awake right now," I said, leaning back and sinking into the comfortable couch.
"Aww, I'm sorry," she said, gently massaging my shoulder. "I'll let you pass out really soon, I promise!"
"Take your time! It's the least I can do."
"Heh, you're sweet," she said, turning her rather snoggable face to me and giving me a gentle smile. "I'm not exactly sure how much to tell you…or how to start."
I turned my head to her and waited patiently.
She slowly began. "Okay! Um…Tessa has been, er…a little lonely since I graduated from Hogwarts two years ago. Oh! This talk is about her, by the way."
"Ah, alright…er…do you think she'd be okay with you telling me whatever you're about to say?" I'd noticed that Tessa was incredibly secretive (not to mention people-shy, though you wouldn't know it from the way she verbally jousts with me, so it's most likely that she's evading them for a reason other than shyness) and I didn't want to betray her somehow by hearing her dirty secrets. I was very curious, however.
Molly cocked her head and grew serious. "I'm counting on you never mentioning this conversation to anyone, especially her. And, I promise, telling you these things will be in her best interest in the long run, whether she wants to admit it or not."
"Okay…" I said, thinking it over a moment. "I won't tell a soul. I promise."
"Great!" she beamed. "Okay, so, she met you this semester, and has really, really enjoyed your friendship and company."
My heart fluttered a little, despite my embarrassment. That strange new feeling of being valued found its way to my smile. "That's sweet of her to say. I've enjoyed her company quite a bit as well."
"Aww! I'm sure she'd be very touched to hear you say that. Anyway, I'm only telling you what I'm about to tell you because, as far as my brothers and I can tell, you're Tessa's only friend at the moment. You're the only person she ever mentions whenever we ask about her classmates."
I nodded, brows knotting in concern. "I was kind of worried that she had a shortage of friends…and I suspected that she didn't really ever talk to anyone else."
"I'm not surprised," Molly said with a sigh, twirling a gorgeous lock of hair around her finger. "Anyway, since you're her best friend, there are a few things you need to know about her. And you'd better not abandon her after you hear what I'm about to say, or so help me, I will make you suffer!"
"You can make me suffer any time!" I said with a seductive wink, receiving another chop to the cranium as a result. "OW! Merlin's balls, Molly! Stop doing that."
"Oh? But I thought you wanted me to make you suffer," she said, returning my wink now that she'd punished me appropriately.
"I was joking," I muttered. I'm going to get a concussion or something here. "But okay, okay, I won't abandon her, no matter what I hear from you." Not like I had much of a choice by this point.
"Alright, listen – Tessa has…how do I put this…well, I guess you could say that Tessa has a lot of secrets…and, not to sound mean or anything, but she has many problems that stem from those secrets."
"Alright, er…what…kinds of problems?"
Molly averted her eyes. "Some are harmless, of course. She hasn't always been as eccentric as she is now, but her new, odd habits aren't hurting anyone. A certain few of her problems, however, are the kind that mean you should exercise caution when spending time with her."
Huh? "Like…exercising caution in what I say to her, so I won't hurt her in a way that's dangerous for her fragile sanity?" I asked, recalling the near-meltdown she had when I merely told her I that thought she looked cute.
"Well, obviously you should do your best to be nice to her," Molly said with a nervous laugh, "but in this case I mean that you should probably…be ready to…um…defend yourself…if you're alone with her."
I stared at her in surprise. What the hell? I didn't really know if I believed her, seeing as I'd been alone with Tessa several times in the library this semester. Molly seemed very serious and uncomfortable, though, so I wasn't sure what to think.
I couldn't imagine needing to defend myself from the quirky girl I'd spent so much time joking with. She'd become one of the few remaining people I could trust at all, along with Remus and Lily. Would she…was she even capable of...betraying my trust and stabbing me in the back like Molly seemed to be implying?!
"…I feel really guilty now for telling you this," Molly said, distraught. My facial expression must have given away how upset I was feeling.
"N-n-no, please don't mind me, I'm just trying to figure this out! Um…I've been alone with her, like…at least a dozen times this semester, and absolutely NOTHING'S happened."
Molly nodded with a small smile. "Good. She must value your friendship a lot."
"If she does value our friendship as much as you seem to think…then why on earth would she ever attack me?" I asked in total confusion. "Does she, like, have a split personality or something?"
"No, it's nothing like that…but she IS very complicated…" Molly folded her arms in frustration. "I don't really want to betray her trust by telling you any other details."
"You can't just leave me hanging like that…" I said, folding my arms back at her.
"Peter, I understand that this must be frustrating for you, but I'm positive that she'll tell you on her own time, so I have to respect that. In the meantime, all you need to do is be there for her, support her, comfort her, and always have your wand at the ready. Judging by your performance at the Festival today, I doubt you'll have any trouble stopping her if she tries anything."
I stared at her, wide-eyed. This was an incredibly strange puzzle. "Er…probably…"
Molly sighed and pulled her hair. "The reason she's so, you know, avoidant of others is actually more for their protection than it is for hers."
My mouth formed an "O" shape. I hadn't thought of that. She seemed to be implying that I'd happened to make friends with a girl who is somehow accidentally but significantly dangerous. I can't picture what that would look like, but I'm…
Wait…
"Is she fully human?" I asked, thinking of Lupin's furry little problem.
Molly laughed. "Yes! What kind of a question is that?"
Huh…well, there goes that theory.
"I'm just trying to understand what you're talking about," I said with a broad shrug. "So…should I take this conversation to mean that…other people actually HAVE been attacked by her in the past?"
"Peter…that's very personal information…" Molly said, looking down and rubbing her legs.
It's tough to interpret that as meaning anything other than "Yes, Tessa has done some horrible things to someone, or to more than one someone, in the past."
"Oh, and another thing," Molly said, looking at me and smiling just a little. "I'm obliged, as her cousin, to demand that you don't take advantage of her."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I'm not sure what, exactly, you think my morals are like, but I'd never rape someone, ever! Especially not Tessa!"
"Hey!" Molly said, karate chopping my skull again, this time splitting my skin a little. "You can't say things like that, Peter! That's mean!"
"Wh-what'd I say again?" I mumbled with a wince, vanishing the blood off my forehead.
"You shouldn't say 'Especially not Tessa!' Girls are very sensitive, and she would be very hurt to hear you say something like that."
"But I just meant that, as a friend who trusts me, she'd be the last person I'd ever betray by raping them!"
"Then say THAT! Your original sentence was misleading." She coughed and shook her head. I didn't really understand how someone could be offended by NOT wanting to be raped, but whatever. "Anyway, not just rape, Peter – even if she begs you to make love to her, please exercise discretion."
"Er…wait, what?" I blushed. Dammit…where'd this erection come from? I quickly crossed my legs to try and hide it.
"Don't have sex with her, alright? I'd never forgive you."
"But look, where's the harm in…I mean, I know she's your cousin and all, but, if she's requesting it…"
"Peter Pettigrew, do NOT have sex with my cousin!" Molly suddenly yelled, rising to her feet and glaring at me in warning. "She will NOT be able to handle it. Period. Understand?"
"Yes," I said in a meek voice. That was…a VERY strong reaction. I couldn't imagine what harm sex could have in a loving, caring relationship…well…I mean, obviously there are several things that can go wrong as a result of sex, but…surely nothing could go THAT wrong!
"Do you promise?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"I promise."
Molly and I held eye contact for a few seconds before she relaxed and sat back down with a smile. "Okay, sorry about that. Now, just make sure you give your best effort to always be there for her, and to always take good care of her. Go out and do something fun! Tessa has a problem with denying herself anything she wants, so it's up to you to help her experience life!"
"I will," I said, somewhat unnerved. What exactly am I getting roped into here? I'm so confused. "I'll do all I can to protect her and be someone she can rely on and have fun with, I promise."
"Great," Molly said, rubbing my shoulders. "I'm, er…really sorry about chopping you and, um, shouting at you."
"It's alright. I can take a lot of abuse," I said with a bitter smile.
She grinned. "You're a really sweet kid, Peter. I can see why she likes you…as a friend! As a friend, I mean," she said very quickly. Suspiciously quickly, in fact.
"Er…I'm pretty sure she doesn't like me, you know," I said. "She's reacted pretty badly anytime I say something that could be interpreted as being romantic."
Molly grinned. "You're right. I'm sure that's how it is."
"That IS how it is."
"You kind of seem to like arguing for no reason, you know that?"
"Sorry…it just kind of happens when you're friends with Sirius Black and Tessa Prewitt," I said, scratching the back of my head.
Molly chuckled. "Ahh…Sirius Black…that name brings back some memories!"
"Huh? Wh-what kind of significant memories could you possibly have of him? You're four years older!"
"Shhh…calm down, it's nothing you need to worry about," Molly said in a soothing voice. "I'll tell you when you're older."
"…WHAT?!"
She chuckled at my reaction and walked out saying, "I'm sure everyone else is asleep by now, so we can just meet over breakfast in the morning. This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, and the bathroom's the second door to your right."
"Er…do you have any, um…sleepwear I can change into?"
Molly gasped. "You want to wear my sleepwear? Oh, you are such a deviant!"
I sighed. These Prewitt girls certainly take a toll on your will to continue living.
"Sorry, I forgot you're sleepy. I'll get you something, don't worry," she said walking away.
I flopped down on the couch when the door closed, making sure to put my face right where her butt had been.
"Ahhh…Mollybutt!" I sighed in happiness. "Still warm…"
Before long, however, I became aware that I still smelled quite sweaty and bloody…to the point that it was distracting. Molly popped in briefly and gave me a pair of rather tight, feminine sleeping shorts, and, as I had nothing else to wear except my dress robe (which I wasn't wearing anything under), I gave in and slipped them on.
I stretched afterwards, catching a whiff of my underarms…which was decidedly less than pleasant.
"A shower it is, then," I muttered. Hopefully I can jump in and jump out without waking the others up.
Tessa's Point of View
(First Floor Bathroom)
It was a blast, being his friend. He was the sole lifeline I had in my bloodied, haunted existence.
I stood in the bathroom, staring blankly at the unrecognizable face in the mirror. I exhaled painfully, continuing my nightly ritual of peeling skin off my body.
Other days doing this, I'd tell myself it was for Peter. I'd rip all the scaly, diseased skin off, just for him. This semester had been different. I'd been satisfied. Fuck, I was actually happy to be alive. I was enjoying myself. I didn't even let my past or my baser impulses get to me! With Peter's help, I was free. He just saw me as a friend, but who gives a crap! I could see his eyes light up whenever he saw me. And that made me alive; happy.
I gritted my teeth in anger, digging yellowed nails into my flesh, drawing blood. Tantalizing pinpricks of punishment for giving in to the urge to hope. What kind of right did I have to hope for something more? How could I be so stupid?
I shivered. I didn't have much volume to my body anymore, so any cold I ever encountered cut right to my bones.
I shook my head and opened the cabinet, my grotesque boutique greeting my eyes. People don't realize it, but I take a lot of time on my misappearance. Sure, I don't shower, but I want to look decidedly unattractive, not just slovenly. I daily apply mud and slime to my face, with a delicate enough touch to look precisely accidental. Like I am insane, and haven't bathed forever. Of course, both are likely true, but I need to make sure people know. I'm not ruining myself for me…I'm ruining myself for them.
But not for just any of them, in particular. I don't like people in general. Everyone's better than me, and they don't even have to TRY. I'm a degenerate, and will continue degenerating forever. So I honestly don't really care about them. If one of them notices me, and it leads to me killing them, then that's pretty much their fault. It'd be a shame, and I'd grieve for them, but how can you ignore THIS many warning signs?
No. the only person I really grime myself up for is Peter Pettigrew. That boy has been my fantasy of a realistically feasible love for a couple years now. We'd always both been outcasts, trying and failing to please those important to us. What really sold me on him was the way he acted around his crush, Alice Fenten, all those years. Everyone gets crushes, but he was so earnest about it, I couldn't help but privately root for him from the sidelines. I slowly recognized his adoration for her as exactly what I'm looking for – PURE love, without selfish desires polluting it at all. That's what I need. And he had it.
After seeing my end goal so close within my reach, yet still so unattainable for a shy girl like me, I did the only thing I could do without experiencing that chill of complete denial – I began masturbating about him every once in a while, stealing small belongings of his whenever I could and pressing them against my hideous body until I'd orgasm. I'd imagine myself with him because he was my only feasible escape from this suffering, and, thus, my only realistic lover. But I never dared to hope.
After Alice was moronic enough to reject Peter, my desire for him surged far beyond my ability to control. I HAD to stop myself from going after him, so I had no choice but to masturbate as long as I could each night so I'd be able to reign in my curse-derived bodily need whenever I was around him.
I never imagined that I'd actually speak to him outside my head…but such was the case that day he dragged his lovably pudgy, sweaty self into the Great Hall and saw fit to strike up a conversation with me. I couldn't believe my good fortune! I quickly realized that the only thing I could do was to show him as pure a window into my true personality as I could.
It was tough, at first, and I'd sometimes run away from him for weeks straight. But I slowly began to get addicted to the intoxicating feeling he gave me just by being with me, teasing me, and studying with me. He made me feel special for the first time in a long time – he was the ONLY student who acknowledged my existence in the entire school! It was incredible! He seemed to really, truly enjoy being around me! He would come up and greet me just as often as I'd come up and greet him! It seemed so promising! I was eventually able to stop masturbating so much and just suppress my dark side by drinking up all the feelings of worth he gave me.
But something had changed in him after the Alice debacle. I slowly began picking up signs that he was, somehow, no longer the pure, selfless Peter I'd fallen love with two years ago…the Peter I needed to further my plans. He started acting cold, calculating, oddly obsessive, and he lost that glimmer in his eyes completely. I certainly enjoyed checking him out after his body became so incredibly sexy…like, SCARY sexy…but I couldn't help but think of it as just one more way he was slipping away from me…putting up yet another layer between him and his old self.
Still, I loved him, and, thus, tried to justify the growing dissonance between my needs and the reality of who Peter was becoming…but then came his admission that he thought I was CUTE?! After all this work…how COULD he?! How did he not get the message?
Things had gotten tremendously off-track somehow. Then, tonight, his borderline psychotic episode on the stage shocked me, badly – I had once regarded Peter as the only guy sweet and conscientious enough for my needs, but reality tied me up and kicked me in the face. I very much doubted, now, that Peter would even be bothered by his killing of Amycus, except for whatever inconvenience it might cause in his own plans. I, on the other hand, was downright torn apart by my first murders. I would spend weeks in closets, not eating or drinking a thing, just rocking back and forth and apologizing to the echoes of their departed souls.
Peter was precisely the opposite of what I needed, I realized tonight. The innermost self he finally displayed turned out to be a hollow husk, knowing nothing but complete disregard for other people's lives.
In fact, the face he wore during battle was nightmarishly familiar – it's the same one I'd see on myself in the mirror after my murders. That chilling, horrible face…why was it on MY Peter? That particularly dissonant brand of anti-glee that can only be found on those souls huddled in the darkness, in the throes of despair so great, churning back and forth, back and forth, until they can beat away the pain of their existence by laughing as hard and as hollowly as I can. That's me. And that's Peter's innermost soul, too, I just found out. In a different world, if I didn't have this curse, we'd be perfect for one another.
Several loud clunks resounded throughout the house, making me jump in place, hands covering my mouth to contain my shriek. One of my cousins must have stumbled about, looking for a midnight snack or something. Frowning, I turned on the water and washed my diseased face. The water felt so great…finally getting clean…it was so worth it! How messed up IS Peter to think I'm cute when there's this much physically wrong with me? How is that even vaguely possible?
I shuddered with tears. All this time…all this hope…it was all misguided. Useless. What point did I even have to go back to school, now? I COULD try and find another pure soul to place my hopes in, but, clearly, I'm not a very good judge of character, so they'd probably wind up dead, just like the others. And if I did go back, I'd have to face Peter again, turn away his friendship, and go back into complete hiding. I didn't think I could survive hurting him like that…seeing him get sad from my actions would hurt me so much I don't even think I could handle it!
"I want to die," I gasped, shuddering and letting my greasy hair fall over my face. That may truly be my only remaining option. It was the only thing to do, all because of that stupid, stupid, STUPID curse! I'm unable to cope with such a source of grief and torture in my body any longer!
I'd once aspired to be a wizarding photographer. Ever since I was a little girl, the intricate magic beyond moving photographs fascinated me. I'd developed a mild obsession over photographs, one that my mum fostered.
My idyllic life didn't last long, though; soon after my first victim, the true, unquenchable nature of my curse awakened. Ever since then, I've been adrift, lost…with no way out of the hopelessness. After my second murder, I got even worse. The resulting grief and dissociation I experienced was so heavy that I was no longer able to muster up excitement or hope for ANY future, let alone follow my dreams. Not without a partner, anyway. Someone who could help carry the weight of my pain. Without such a person, this world is intolerable.
Fortunately, the Prewitt family had a few ancient texts in its library, which contained several long-forgotten spells – one of which was a painless suicide spell. Normally, I'd always argue against suicide, but I think, if anyone deserves it, I do. It's better that I smother my own existence rather than kill even more innocents.
I heaved my shoulders and planted a decidedly sanity-challenged look on my skeletal face. Time to make a bucket list.
Before I could start planning my parting moments, however, a series of heavy steps sounded outside the bathroom door. I don't know who it was, but they were about to come in!
I didn't want my family to see me like this. I was sick and tired of them worrying about me all the time. Sniffing, I cleared my throat and dunked my head under the water, furiously scrubbing the rest of the dead skin off my face. I didn't have enough time to hide the puffiness of my eyes or the fresh gashes, but I'd just have to hope for the best.
The door opened. I sniffled, wiped the sink water from my eyes, and uttered a phlegmy, but friendly, "Good morning! Guess I'm not the only early-WH-WH-WHAT?! PETER?!"
What…the actual fuck?
"Shh! Not so loud! No one knows I'm here!" he ordered, closing the door softly behind him, tortured blue eyes shifting around as usual. Zeus's slutty sister! Peter Pettigrew is sexy! I mean…damn! And how the hell was he even able to FIT into those shorts?! And shirtless, too? I never seen this much male nudity in my life – and I've seen a man stark naked before. My brain isn't even working anymore. How can I possibly not rape him now?!
Dammit…I'm completely and totally stumped for things to say. Think, Tessa, think! And, no, you are not allowed to offer to rock him like a hurricane.
"So," he said, averting his eyes. "This is…my first time seeing you in something as ladylike as as lingerie. You almost look – dare I say it –female."
Oh crap! In my utter shock I'd completely forgotten that I was in merely my bra and knickers. I squeaked and slapped a towel over myself.
"Well then," I said, in a horribly unhealthy-sounding rendition of my teasing voice, "what'd you think of your first visual female sampling, hm?"
"You know what? I liked them. You are the most deranged, hyper, masculine, rebellious, idiotic person I know, Tessa. And somehow, someway…your breasts have survived. I literally cannot believe they haven't fallen off yet. And that impresses me." He winked, sending a shiver up my spine. "And you know what else?"
"What?"
"There's no one I'd rather have as my first than you!" he said, looking far too egotistic to keep on talking unopposed. He was clearly joking around, but my whole body was blushing, now, by this point. My heart was hammering, and I was very much aware that both of us were ONLY clothed in tight, thin, cotton below. I was barely reigning in my urge to slam him to the floor and mount him.
"Psh, if you're going to lie, be somewhat less obvious, Pete. I've seen the way you keep looking at my cousin's frontal hitchhikers."
Acting unfazed, but blushing quite intensely, the man I'd fantasized about every night this year closed the distance between us and held my chin in his palm. I gaped at him and allowed myself to fall into my deep desire for him, despite my weak ego's desperate bids for attention.
"But, er…I'm not best friends with your cousin, am I? You're the one who means something to me, so that makes your hitchhikers even more fantastic," he told me with a barely suppressed snicker.
My mouth dried out considerably. "Thank you, Peter. That means so much to me," I said, staring transfixedly at his eyes. Wow…I never thought I'd actually have my fantasy guy IN my bathroom with me. This is unreal!
Suddenly, thoughts of suicide were the furthest thing from my mind. I was, however, about ready to pass out from the sudden rush of anxiety. Of all the things I'd expected to deal with for the rest of the break…PETER wasn't one of them. My mind whirled uncontrollably with worries and desires. What do I do? What CAN I do? Dammit…if he doesn't get out of here soon, I'll probably end up doing the unthinkable…
"So, uh…why are you here, anyway?" I said, backing away.
"Well…I, er, came in to take a shower," he began.
"Together?" I joked, much to my horror. I truly have NO control over my tongue. A shower between the two of us would surely end in his mutilation and death. I'm so out of control…but I can't tell him to leave…I can see…everything…those freakishly huge, rippling muscles are making my weak control over my mind explode.
He chuckled, sending chills of desire down my spine – dear fucking Merlin, how I love the sound of his gentle, warm laugh – and said, "Although I'm sure that would be lovely - nigh unforgettable - I doubt that very much cleaning would occur. And I NEED it."
"Not half as badly as I need it," I muttered.
"Oh, really? I'll take that bet!" he leered. "Shall we have a contest to see who's the more foul-smelling, between us?"
"I think we shall!" I sang, leaping forward and wrapping my legs around his rock-solid waist, smothering his nose in my underarm. I suddenly realized, however, just how almost-nude we both were, and, when I had an unbidden burst of hungry pleasure erupt through my body, I leapt off him as fast as I could.
"Hmm, not bad, not bad, but I daresay it's not much worse than you usually smell," he said with a wink.
My body went numb. Even that wink…no…I was about to lose it…he had to leave. NOW. What was I even doing?! Hadn't I JUST been telling myself that I needed to distance myself from him, for good? It was a miracle I'd still been able to rein in my instincts this long. The problem is…I want him SO bad, I don't even think I could convincingly ask him to leave, now. What do I do? I could wordlessly jump in the shower. I don't trust myself to take off my undergarments around him, though.
"Alright, my turn!" he sang, walking forward, grabbing the back of my head, and thrusting my nose under his arm. I chuckled a little, relieved at how vomit-inducingly rancid he smelled – it halted my runaway arousal a little.
"So, how's that?" he asked when he pulled away.
"Hmm…I do believe I still smell worse."
"That, my good lady, is a bowl full of shit."
"Not in the least, honestly," I said, sticking my chin up in the air. "I smell much worse than you in other places, after all."
He grinned, though blushing quite attractively. "Oh, I thought I smelled something like the sea! That explains it. In that case, I'd better leave to your womanly duties, Captain!"
"And how womanly they are," I said, panting ever-so-slightly. "I, um…I don't mind if you stay…" What. The. FUCK AM I SAYING?! This is really, really bad. My curse is starting to take over. Please leave, Peter! "…and…you can help…if you want to…" Uh-oh. Um…please be gay, Peter?
"Er…I don't…" he said, backing up. "I don't think that's such a good idea."
Yes! Yes! I just have to take that idea and run with it…C'mon…I can beat you, instinct! "Just…just…" I said slowly, with great effort, "get the fuck out of here, right now!"
"What? But you just said…and then I said I wasn't going to, already! You don't need to…"
"Get out! Now! And don't come back!" I screamed, shaking with relief that I was able to break through the curse.
Looking quite disturbed, Peter hurriedly leapt out, closing the door behind him. "G-goodnight," he said shyly, from the other side.
I didn't answer, but sat on the toilet, desperate for the tears to come. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" I mouthed, slicing my nails through the skin on my thighs in punishment.
I can feel my mind slipping away…with nothing remaining but revulsion for myself. I wish I had the willpower to bear this agony without turning to arousal and using others – innocent others who deserve much, much better than me. But I don't. It'll be better for everyone if I just disappear. I'm nothing but a pain, an irritation, a degenerate, a burden, a rapist, and a murderer.
That's why I hate people. Their unforgiveable sin is that they're all so much fucking better than me. Except for Peter. He's always been and will always be just as shitty a person as I am.
And that's why I love him.
Peter's Point of View
Well, that was…completely unsettling. Both her sudden apparent arousal and her sudden rejection. Granted, meeting one-on-one in only our underwear is not usually the best way to have a conversation with even a normal person, and Tessa is considerably less than normal. However, she's never acted anything like this before…and I just promised Molly that I'd take care of Tessa, through thick and thin. Suddenly, that's not looking like so easy anymore.
I still have no idea what to make of her bizarre revelations about Tessa, so I feel that I'm basically clueless about the best way to deal with her. I don't know if more information WOULD help, but…all I know is I won't give up. She's one of my only friends, and Molly's counting on me. I'll figure out some way to work things out between us.
At any rate, I suppose a shower can wait till morning.
After I got back to the guest room, I realized that I had not a single drop of Draught of Dreamless Sleep on my person. Dammit. I've been relying that for a long time to get through my nights without feeling the need to gouge out my eyes from recalling those visions.
I grimaced, shivering from the cool air blowing in from the gaping hole in the room, and lay down on the couch, pulling the wool blanket tight around me.
Well…it was true that I was still basically depleted of all energy from the draining spell I'd casted tonight. Perhaps I'll just collapse and be too exhausted to dream.
After a few minutes running Molly's various warnings and recommendations through my head, I gradually drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
The peaceful aspect didn't last long.
I slowly became aware that I was in an elongated version of the Gryffindor Common Room, containing a large banquet table. An unusual assortment of witches and wizards was seated there; the Marauders (including an older version of me), Lily, Tessa, Snape, Bellatrix, and the white haired girl from my dreams were all chatting jovially amongst themselves. All were dressed in black, with leather armor and capes.
"Er, h-hey, everyone! What's going on?" I asked, but no one seemed to take note of me.
I was aware that I was dreaming…so…was it really a dream? Normally I'd wake up when I realized something was up.
Not so today, though, it seemed. The older Peter made eye contact with me, grinned, and stood up, walking around the table to where I was. "Peter! Peeee-heh-heh-eeeeeter! How've you been?"
Something about this dude was creepy, but I shook his outstretched hand nonetheless. "Er…I'm alright."
"More than alright, I'd say!" he said, gesturing broadly. "Didn't you just escort Amycus Carrow from the mortal realm?"
"Y-yeah, I did," I said nervously.
"Way to go, mate. Way to go. You're really changing the future, huh?"
"It, er, sure seems that way, um…my other self."
He winked at me. "So you killed Amycus for your visions, huh? Making the future a better place?"
"W-well…he wasn't in my visions, but…I mean, he was a Death Eater and…"
"So, what you're saying is, you really care more about exterminating the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord than changing the future, is that it?"
"Er…I don't follow. Aren't they one and the same?"
"There you go! There you fucking go! Now we're talking!" the strange, older me said, his broad smile not leaving his face.
I noticed that the others at the table weren't paying any attention to us. "Um…can they…?"
"Oh, they could, but they're just ignoring us. As usual, right? I mean, when is Peter Pettigrew not ignored, know what I mean?"
"Well, I dunno; Molly and the press seemed to talk to me an awful lot today."
"BINGO! You are right on target today, my friend," the other Peter said, taking a long sip of champagne. "And, why did they talk to you? They would have completely ignored you ordinarily, correct? Why are they doing this?"
"B-because I'm powerful."
The Peter suddenly chucked his glass at the floor, making me jump. The others at the table looked up at us for a moment in surprise, but quickly returned to their own conversations.
"That's damn right, Peter. You're a powerful person, now. You mean something, now. You can execute random people now. And it's ALLLLL for the visions, is that right?" This future me seemed more than a little unbalanced.
"That's right."
After a bit of dismissive laughter, he said, "Don't you fucking lie to me, Pettigrew. Don't you DARE say that one more time."
"What are you…?"
"Turn on your brain, boy. I'm hoping you have one still, and it's not already used up from your glorious, heroic, self-serving quest for power."
"It's not self-serving! It's all to defeat Voldemort."
"Which is self-serving."
"No, it's not! I mean, it partially is, but it's also for the sake of everyone else. All the people I care about were murdered in those visions! All of them! That's why I'm taking action! If the visions had shown only me getting tortured and dying, then I doubt I'd care enough to accomplish what I've done so far!"
"Oh, so you're benevolent. You're such a GOOD and caring friend. You're Father Fucking Christmas, aren't you?" After I didn't answer, he continued, jabbing my chest with a finger, "Then why is it that you've done your best to push everyone away? If you care so much, then why are you figuring out all these new spells all alone, killing your enemies by yourself, standing up to the authorities without an ally to speak of, and fucking making the front pages? Huh? Let me tell you something, kid, you're using your visions, your friends, the Dark Lord, ALL of it…as an excuse."
"That's not true!"
"No?"
"It's not! I love…all these people," I said, gesturing towards the table. "I mean, except Snivellus. I think Bellatrix is redeemable, though she's a little confused now, of course. But I wouldn't want the Dark Lord to kill either of them, regardless of what they've done so far."
"You think Bellatrix is redeemable, huh? I didn't see you giving that chance to Carrow this evening! Why does she deserve a chance to live when he doesn't?"
"My hand was forced."
"No, YOU forced THEIR hand. You WANTED this to happen; a chance to demonstrate how almighty you are! And who could blame you? You've holed up in the Restricted Section for so long now that you don't even remember what it's like to ejaculate! You deserve a big fucking medal for how much you've sacrificed to become so almighty and powerful! I'd be proud of you if you didn't make me so SICK!"
"I don't even understand what you're mad about," I told the apparently furious me. "What are you trying to say? I'm fighting the Dark Lord the only way I know how."
"Peter, Peter, listen…you don't NEED to fight the Dark Lord to change the future. You know what I mean?"
"…huh?"
"Think back to the visions, kid. All of them could be counterchecked without even laying a hand on the Dark Lord. Sure, he did murder three of your friends directly, but perhaps you could encourage them to, I dunno – leave the country! You could stop Snape from joining the Dark Lord, so he wouldn't be in that position. You could stop James and Lily from getting married, which would prove that the future's changed. You know? Why haven't you tried any of these things?"
"Well, they're just not…"
"Shut up. You're not trying them because you WANT the power. You want the glory. I'm telling you that you don't actually give a rat's arse about any of these so-called friends of yours. Deny it all you want, but that's how it is. Actions speak louder than words, my friend." He picked up another glass from the table and slurped down some more champagne. "If you were truly trying to stop the visions from happening, you'd try as hard as you could to prevent these scenarios from occurring. You'd be training with all of these kids. You'd be doing everything you could to stop them from being vulnerable. But you're just making things worse, Peter. Don't you see?"
"Of course not. Okay, maybe you're right that there are some things I could do differently to help everyone survive. But don't I deserve a little power? How can that possibly hurt? I was borderline useless before, and…"
He put his hand on my shoulder. "It won't hurt YOU, Peter, but everyone else will still be in danger. I hate to break it to you, but you're still helping these visions along; the Dark Lord and his minions might not be the culprits at the end of this new road, but your friends will all still die."
"Well, if someone new comes along, then I'll kill them, too."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…who knew you were so violent, Peter? You know what happens to fantastically powerful wizards who solve all their problems through violence?" He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "They become Dark Lords."
My eyes widened. "I'm…I'd never become…"
"No, it'll happen. You're a bloodthirsty warrior, and the more you kill, the thirstier you'll become. You're already so paranoid, and as you get closer to finishing off Voldemort, you'll get ten times as bad. You've pushed away everyone, and you'll become even more closed off the more murders you commit. Don't you understand, Peter Pettigrew? This new route you've chosen leads straight to you becoming the next Dark Lord."
"That's absolutely ridiculous," I said with a roll of my eyes, but I was feeling quite unnerved. "I'm on the side of good! I'm trying to stop Voldemort from hurting everyone! I'd never turn evil, regardless of how bloodthirsty I am. I'd never hurt these people," I explained anxiously, gesturing wildly at the people seated before us.
Professor Dumbledore's disembodied voice then appeared in the dream room, saying, as he did in my suppressed memories, "Mr. Pettigrew, it is a very well-researched subject. Fate is written in stone!...I'm afraid that your path has been locked in."
"SON OF A…" I cried, looking about and kicking an empty desk over in anger. I had done some research on fate after my initial conversation with Dumbledore – it appeared that, in every case, prophecies DID come true, though sometimes the manner in which they occurred was slightly altered from what was predicted.
Could I really be on my way to becoming…the cause of all these horrible ends?
The older Peter grinned and threw his hood over his face. "Yes…it will be you, no matter what. If not you betraying them to Voldemort, it'll be through you killing them yourself. You think you can beat fate, Pettigrew? No matter how hard you try, you'll only come closer to fulfilling the prophecy! Their lives have been predetermined by Avaxeous to get snuffed out one day, and you can't do a thing about it."
I narrowed my eyes, smearing the tears away. "If THAT'S the case, then why did Avaxeous even bother giving me those visions at all? They can only be taken as…"
"…a warning? Precisely. Those visions WERE a warning to all the others who suffered in them. THEY'RE the victims. But Peter, admit it. You've been acting all this time like YOU'RE the victim, when from the very beginning, you were the perpetrator. You just happened to be the oracle, as well."
"Th-that's…GRR…I'll find a way, you bastard. I don't believe in fate. I'll save those people or die trying!"
The malicious Peter snickered, walking around me, taunting me with his assured logic. "No. You can't. And you're too proud to let yourself die. No matter what you do, fate will ALWAYS use your actions for evil, Pettigrew. You are too fundamentally flawed to ever escape your true self."
"Then I'll…I'll involve the others from now on. I'll let them help! Together, we can…"
"You'll use them, you mean. Because that's what you do, isn't it? You don't give a shite about friendship. You're too power hungry to even comprehend the meaning of the word! And, what I love about you is that you'll never have your fill. Even after you and I merge one day, and together become one of the mightiest Dark Lords in history, you'll STILL want more. That's just who we are, Peter."
"NO! You're wrong!"
"You are trapped."
"I refuse to believe that."
"Being purposefully ignorant will only get them killed faster," he sneered.
"Then I'll kill myself."
"And leave them all to die and suffer in the predetermined cycle of cruel fate? Weren't you just saying you cared about saving them, Peter? How can they survive, without your help?"
"Th-then what do I do?!"
He whirled to me, baring his Cheshire's smile. "You give in! You stop lying to yourself and embrace your true colors. The graceful, royal purple of rule and the crimson sash of spilt blood. Who CARES if you're the one who brings all your friends to their doom? It's already been decided anyway! Make the most of it!"
"Make the most out of everyone I care about dying?" I asked incredulously. "There's no WAY I'll…"
"You ARE a slave to fate, you pathetic sop! There IS no escape. You'll bury your friends, one by one. And, if you stay on your current trajectory, it will all be by your design! And, in the end, by the time you've realized what has happened, you WILL die by your own hand. Fate has foreseen it."
I screamed in fury.
"Oh, and here comes Tessa Prewitt! She's a pleasant lass, isn't she?"
Indeed, Tessa had randomly jumped up from her chair and was jokingly sashaying her way over to us, flipping her greasy hair about in jest.
"Of course she is!" I said, smiling longingly at her. "I love her, and I love being around her; there's no way I'd ever harm her."
"Hm, interesting," the bastard me said, turning on his heel to greet her and taking his hood off. "Tessa! Hi! How are you?" he said in a warm voice. She didn't seem to notice me standing beside him.
"Not even half bad, now that I'm talking to you!" she said with an exaggerated wink. Then an adorable blush covered her dirty cheeks and she continued, twisting her hips nervously in place, "So, listen Peter, I was wondering…there's a Hogsmeade trip coming up soon, a-a-and, um, I was thinking maybe…"
My other self cast a Entrail-Expelling curse before either her or I could react. She howled in alarm and pain as her intestines and organs burst forth from her skin with a horrible squelching sound.
"NO!" I screamed, looking at the putrid scene in horror.
Rather than looking at the other Peter, she looked straight at me with her chocolate eyes communicating deep sadness and something else that made me shiver: compassion.
"I always knew it would come to this," she moaned in a heavy voice. "Come here, Pete, hurry! And kiss…"
Before she could finish her sentence, she screamed in agony as the other Peter stomped on her still-dangling organs and then slit her bony throat wide open with a jeweled knife.
"Not bad, eh? You'd better prepare yourself for the inevitable, Mr. Pettigrew," he smirked.
"Wh-wh-wh-what was the point of that?" I asked, horrified.
"To show you that…oh, wait! Here comes the future Mrs. Potter, herself!"
"You son of a bitch," I growled, "Don't you dare!"
"Oh, hey there, Wormy!" Lily told the other Peter, carrying a jabbering infant. I looked at it in confusion before remembering that there was a baby in the crib when Voldemort attacked the Potters. Lily looked rather deliriously gorgeous, as usual. "I'm so glad that everything was all just one big misunderstanding!"
"No, Lily, go away! Get away from him!" I yelled, but she seemed unable to hear me.
"Don't worry about it for a second, Lily," the evil me said with a warm voice. "James had his reasons for suspecting me."
"I never, ever suspected you, though," Lily told him, bouncing her baby, "You're one of my oldest friends. We've got to watch each others' backs, right?"
"Oh, for sure," he said, "I'll always watch yours. And little Harry's, here! Hey there, squirt! Do you have anything to say to your Uncle Peter?"
The baby mumbled briefly in response.
"Oh, isn't that cute!" the evil Peter remarked, before abruptly taking Harry's head in both hands and giving it a sharp twist in a 180 degree angle.
Lily and I gaped.
"Y-y-you…what did you just DO?!" she screamed.
"Don't worry about it," he said smoothly.
She drew her wand and launched a couple curses at him, but he blocked them effortlessly.
"Verdimillious!" I yelled, casting my green lightning curse, but he redirected it away from himself. "Dammit!"
"Avada Kedrava," he said, launching it precisely through her defenses. "There we go."
Lily immediately collapsed backwards, completely still.
"You see? This is another completely acceptable way your story could go, my younger self, and you'd still be fulfilling the prophecy," Evil Peter grinned. "There's no reason it has to be Voldemort killing her." He looked down and ripped off her leather chestplate and bra, revealing her swollen, large breasts. "Look, Peter. You've always wanted to feel her tits, right? Come here! I'll let you touch em."
"You bastard!" I shouted, tears of fury streaming down my face as he squeezed and pulled her corpse's breasts violently. "Avada Kedrava!"
He lazily erected a steel frame to deflect my first Killing Curse. "Peter, come on and squeeze them! It's not like she's going to use them anymore! This may be your only chance before they rot and get infested with squirming maggots."
"No," I said with a shudder. "Please…no more…I don't want to see…"
"Are you sure?" he said, pausing to slurp on one of her nipples noisily. "This isn't even part of my lecture. These are some great tits! Oh, wait! Damn…she's still lactating! C'mon down and take a sip!"
"I'm sure," I said coldly, looking the other way. "Get away from her."
"I see your useless morals haven't completely eroded yet. A pity," he muttered, getting to his feet, wiping some milk off his lips, and stomping on her face violently until he cracked through her skull, just like Voldemort had done in the vision. "Well…I, for one, don't think I've really made my point."
"No. You have."
He chuckled. "Just saying no to every word I say doesn't constitute an argument, kid. You seem to have a stronger reaction to your female victims, so we'll stick with them, for now. Hey, you!" he said, pointing to the white-haired girl.
"Me?" she queried, her head tilted cutely. Her red eyes, now that I saw them when she wasn't in pain, looked quite lovely and exotic. She was just a generally very cute young witch. Something about her essence just gave me the inexplicable urge to protect her.
Evil Peter didn't seem inclined to give her any special treatment, however. "Yes, you! Get over here!"
She sighed. "Alright." Running a hand through her silvery hair, she dashed up to the evil Peter, her lovely breasts bouncing, which made me wince as I recalled Lucius ripping them to shreds in the vision.
"Wait, I'm curious; who is she? Who are you?" I asked, but they ignored me. "Please, answer me! I've been looking for you, I…"
"Peter, Lucius won't leave me alone!" she whispered to the Evil Peter, taking his hands and squeezing them between hers. "We've got to do something about him! I think he means to kill me soon…"
"Ohh, come here, gorgeous! I'll protect you…and you know I always will." he said, holding her womanly body against his.
I winced. He wasn't really gonna rape her, was he? I walked up to her and said, "Look, lady, you've got to get away from Peter! He means you nothing but harm!"
"Shut up, Peter," my other self said, moving her cape aside and quickly peeling her pants off, revealing her rather beautiful, shapely arse.
Oh god. The traumatic visions detailing her rape at Lucius's hands shredded through my mind, making me stumble backwards.
"Wh-wh-what's going on? What are you doing?" she gasped.
"Just take it easy, darling, and we'll both enjoy ourselves to the full," he said in a soothing voice, even as he took her wand from her shaking hand and snapped it in half.
She wouldn't have it, though. "No! Peter, I don't like you like that! Wait! No! Stop! I can't…" He didn't pay her any heed, though, and continued ripping off her clothes, twisting her about so her rump was against his erect crotch.
"Impedimenta! Petrificus Totalus! Crucio!" I cast randomly at him, trying to stop his progress, but he lazily knocked them away. I can't…watch this again…I'll go mad!
"You should shut your mouth, you worthless slut," he said, slapping her twice in the face as he forced his way inside her from behind. She screamed in rough pain, and he continued slamming himself into her. "Ahh, yeah, now THERE'S a tight cunt! Now; your eyes bother me! I've wanted to do this for a loooong…" He positioned his knife over her pain-contorted, crimson eyes.
I was so furious that I barely even knew what I was doing when I focused all my energies into my wand and roared, "Confringo Maxima!" I'd just unleashed the other spell unlocked by the Pettigrew ritual, and it felt like it, too.
My body wracked with pain as bright white light broke violently around us all, and the rape dream exploded into shards.
Splintery, wooden shards.
And now, strangely, there was an enormous burst of wind blowing in my face…and…why does it feel like I'm falling?
A/N: Alright, everyone...it's the end of the chapter.
NOOOOOOO!
Now, see, I liked this chapter. I know it was different, and that a lot of it took place inside the characters' heads, but I think it rocked. Obviously, though, you are completely allowed to disagree. Do feel free to let me know whatever vaguely related thoughts you might have concerning the chapter.
(Personal note about the author) I hope everyone had a happy Labor Day! I had my best one ever - a girl who I've had a crush on for, like, four years (though I always thought she was completely out of my league, and, thus, didn't try anything) suddenly came forth with the information that she had a huge crush on me, too! I've never felt so elated in my entire life. XD
I do realize, of course, that you, in all likelihood, don't care at all. So, to help you out a little, I've included *GASP!* the next chapter, as well! :D Enjoy it, too, or else! Or else...stop...reading...or some shit. XD
All my readers are my favorite people ever! Thanks for stopping by the story!