A/N: Okay, just as a warning, this chapter is kind of like the eye of the storm, with two chapters of forward story momentum preceding and following it. You can think of this one as an analysis chapter. It may not exactly be your cup of tea, but there are several important insights and revelations that occur between the characters. And, once Remus gets in the picture, we really start moving forward with the next bit of plot.

I have a great fondness for dialogue - perhaps too much so. However, I feel (however egotistically) that it's all pertinent/interesting. You're welcome to disagree/skip ahead if you don't like characters talking. ;)

This A/N may make it sound like I dislike this chapter, but I actually really enjoyed writing it. It has my favorite Peter moment of the story so far, actually. At any rate, I dearly hope you enjoy this little breather chapter!

Oh yeah, and I don't own a single bloody thing. At all. Not even my brain. Sold it to the devil for a relationship with a gorgeous woman, but she left me. Soooo I'm basically screwed now. Lol.

(Frothing at the mouth) ON TO THE THEATRE!

Rise of the Fourth Marauder

Chapter 9 – All Dressed Up With No One to Mutilate

Very soon afterwards, Molly and I left to spend the rest of the afternoon in Diagon Alley, killing time before my scheduled rendezvous with Remus.

Other than the reporters we deigned to talk to (I was sweating profusely with nervousness the whole time) I was a bit disturbed to see every wizard and witch we encounter balk at our approach, and immediately put distance between us and them. What was up with that? I might have been well known for being ridiculously powerful and possibly dark at the moment, but they should have been aware that I have no quarrel with them. At any rate, it seemed that more people read the Prophet or Quibbler than they do Witch Weekly…unfortunately for me.

Not that I really mind…I wouldn't exactly want to be swamped by people, either. All I want is peace and quiet, really…and the Dark Lord's demise, of course. The terrified looks that people keep shooting me, however, make it impossible to really enjoy myself. I feel weirdly guilty about causing them fear, despite it being completely out of my hands.

Due in large part to how freakishly sexy Molly is, and also owing to the fact that I have the responsibility of keeping her entertained for such a long period of time, I am quite nervous. As in, I feel I have absolutely no business even vaguely being seen in the same shot as her in the paper, yet I have to. And she's okay with it! I should feel lucky and blessed, I suppose, but I just feel like a fraud…

As we left Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, where, naturally, I was happy to foot the bill for the lovely goddess accompanying me, Molly turned to me and gave me a small smile. "Relax, Peter – this isn't a real date, you know."

"S-s-sorry, Molly," I gasped, mentally thrashing myself for my stuttering, "I'm just n-not really used to spending one-on-one time with a girl for this long." Especially a girl as gorgeous as you, I added mentally.

She hummed, eyes sliding gently over my person. "Well then, would it help if I did this?" Without warning, she wrapped her right arm tightly around my left, smooshing mine against her ample bosom.

"W-well, considering that now I'm red-faced, h-h-horny, AND even more nervous than before…no, no I don't think it would."

She snickered. "At least your sarcasm's shining through." Her eyes lowered to my crotch briefly, but she made a disgusted sound and quickly looked away. "Oh! You…weren't kidding."

"I don't kid about matters of the penis," I said with a nervous laugh. I was blushing even harder now, completely ashamed that I even THOUGHT something that idiotic, let alone said it out loud to Molly.

"For the last time, you really need to suppress that part of yourself – like, right now," she said, patting my arm but still squeezing it tightly against her boob. DAMN that felt nice. "We're here to make a show for the reporters, remember? We don't want to make it THAT kind of show, you know."

"I am in complete agreement, M-molly," I said, licking my electric blue ice cream. "Which is why I'd prefer you drop my arm."

"You're just going to have to deal with it," she said, briefly snuggling her head against my neck. "We have to act like a friendly young couple, after all."

"You know, I rather suspect that this plan of your brother's to hold a "fake date" between you and I is really just an extension of his earlier torture of me from last week."

"Really? Torture?" she said, looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm not certain I believe you on that one, Mister McStiffalot."

"McStiffalot. Clever. AND you acknowledged my penis. You're a real catch, Molly."

"HI-YA!" she cried, karate chopping my forehead. "Stop saying that word out loud! For Merlin's sake!"

"At least I whispered it," I growled amidst the residual sting of her chop. "I'm fairly certain you just drew more attention with that display than from anything I've said."

"Well, you deserve it," she said, patting me on the chest. "Anyway…I propose we sit down and enjoy our ice cream, before you irredeemably embarrass us."

"That sounds like a plan to me. C-can I have a hug first?"

"No," she said with a smirk, leading us to a table.

"B-but it'd look like we were, um…"

"A friendly young couple? Yeah, I know. But it was you who suggested it, so naturally I have to refuse." She sat down across from me with a wink, which I tried desperately to focus on rather than her jiggles. You'd think she could wear a bra from time to time. Or maybe she does, and her magnificent chest puppies simply resist all manner of containment, desperate to break free! They do seem rather expressive, after all. Merlin, how I'd love to…

"Peter? Are you listening?" she asked with a suspicious look.

"Oh, absolutely! I've totally listened to every single thing you just said," I said blandly.

"Uh…huh…"

I hurriedly moved on to another topic. "So, um…what's with, er…how everyone's acting around us today? Don't you find it peculiar that they're THAT fearful of me…wait, they're scared of me, right?"

Molly smirked. "Well, of the two of us, which has displayed enormous destructive magical potential, immediately after which appearing horrifyingly bloodthirsty? That's certainly not me taking a shower of blood on the front page of all the papers."

"You'd think that would sell more copies. You. Showering. Blood. Well, maybe not the blood so much, but..."

She ignored me. "Add to that the fact that we both represent families who are very secretive about their true allegiances and are largely suspected to be Dark, and, well…I don't think it's any wonder that they're turning and running when they see us coming. Why, what's the matter? Is my company not enough for you?" she leaned forward, a sly grin on her face.

"WHOA! Whoa! Tha-that's cheating, M-m-molly!" I gasped, slapping my hand over my eyes. "And, yes, you're the best company ever!"

She giggled. "At least you're finally beginning to attempt to control yourself. That's a start." We ate ice cream in silence for a moment. "I was meaning to ask you something, by the way – you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I was just curious."

"Ask away!" I invited her, swallowing a big chunk of blue ice cream mixed with waffle cone. It was sadistically delicious.

She paused and looked at me very seriously. "Would you have really killed them?"

"I suppose I would have felt no particular compunction about it, no."

"Wha-? You can say it that easily?" she asked, suddenly looking fearful…which made me panic slightly, in return.

"Molly, they're the enemy!"

She calmed herself down a bit. "So all that's stopping you from killing, say, me, is…"

"Well, naturally, there are MANY reasons that I'd never hurt you, but obviously, one such reason is that you are not my enemy, correct."

"It's dangerous to see the world in only black or white, Peter…especially since you're so, um, morally dubious yourself."

"Hey, I resent that! I'm not morally dubious, I just wouldn't blink to kill a Death Eater, is all. And I like checking out girls. Those are basically the extent of my vices," I said with a smile, but she didn't return it.

"I can see why Tessa likes you…so, anyone who's not a Death Eater is safe from you?"

"Correct – so, although I do admit that I deal in absolutes, they're very particular absolutes, you see, not big, generalized, flimsy concepts like Good versus Evil or Black versus White, or even on which side people land on the issue of blood purity! The Death Eaters, as well as the Dark Lords of the past, obviously, are about as clear a true representation of evil as one can get. So they're the only ones I would ever target."

"I see…" she said, tipping her bowl back to drink her melted ice cream, a few creamy droplets sprinkling on her cleavage. "Oh, whoops!"

I handed her a napkin, looking away. "I just want people to have the freedom to think, believe, and espouse whatever they want!"

"That's very noble of you, Peter. But murder isn't always the answer, you know. There's a reason the Killing Curse is outlawed, and it's not just due to the Dark nature of the curse – it's because unchecked vigilante justice SO often ends badly. Not to mention that it's wrong and twisted to kill in the first place."

"Molly, what's the alternative? The courts are hopelessly corrupt and presided over solely by Purebloods – the aurors can certainly arrest whoever they want, but if the court's inherent bias doesn't see the Death Eater walk free, then you can be sure that the ensuing bribes will. It's already happened at least three times this month, according to the news. All the money's on their side of the field, Molly – there is no way that they could remotely represent the best interests of the people. Someone NEEDS to take matters into their own hands."

"Still, there MUST be another solution."

"That's not an answer. That's idealism," I said dismissively.

"Peter, I know everything's really screwed up now, and I don't disagree with you about the Ministry, but…what if you, yourself, slowly become evil as a result of your attempts to cleanse our world?"

"If I succeed at stomping out whatever evil I can, how then can I be anything BUT a force opposing evil, and, thus, good?"

"Killing constantly and taking the law into your own hands, even when you destroy only that which is firmly established as evil can, potentially, corrupt the do-gooder into something horrible himself or herself. You need SOMEthing to check your decisions and power. At least the corrupt courts have that in the law."

I sighed, eating my ice cream.

"Ever heard of the French Revolution in the Muggle World?" Molly continued.

"Of course, but that's pretty substantially different from my case," I said. "The Dark Lord's much more evil than the French monarchy was at the time."

"But the effects of the Dark Lord's likely future reign closely mirror, on our population, those of the oppression of absolute monarchy rule on the populace at the time. Perhaps he's more evil, but both situations are and were equally damaging to their respective societies. And, in the case of the French Revolution, what began as the answer to their problem slowly became something even more nightmarish. Robespierre claimed that it was morally correct and good to rule through terror and slaughter as long as it was only ever the established evil who were terrorized and executed."

I bristled. "You're saying that…what? That I could be even more dangerous for Wizarding England than Voldemort? Are you serious?!"

"No, no, no! Calm down! I'm just talking hypotheticals right now," she said in a worried voice. "Um…I'm just worried that, if you keep walking down this path, you are allowing yourself to become the equivalent of Robespierre, in this situation."

I was distinctly reminded of my nightmare from the other night. Perhaps I was even dreaming right now? I pinched myself sharply, but vivid pain greeted me, so it was safe to assume that I was, in fact, awake.

"Molly, by knowing that I could potentially turn out like that, though, isn't that enough motivation for me to prevent myself from falling that far?"

"Maybe…Let me ask you…how interested are you in analyzing the Dark Lords and Ladies of the past?"

"Er…very? I'm sure, with adequate documentation, I'd be able to research numerous strategies from studying each of their respective downfalls. The problem, of course, is finding accurate texts, since most were destroyed by order of either a Dark Lord who took power or one of the many corrupt governments."

"My family firmly believes in learning from history to avoid mistakes in the future," Molly explained. "As such, we've preserved copies of a decent number of texts which had been ordered to be destroyed at various points in history."

My now-familiar greed for information jolted through my body. "S-seriously?! What do I have to do to read those?"

She smiled a bit. "Just promise me that you'll pay attention to the rises of all the Dark Lords – some actually became Dark Lords despite having good intentions. And they're in the Prewitt family vault, at the moment."

"Excellent! Perfect! And I promise to read all that stuff, too! Hey, you could collect them while I rendezvous with Remus!"

"Heh, don't I even get a please?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Can I read them, PLEASE?!" I asked, clasping my hands in prayer to her.

"Certainly! I'll put numerous charms on them, however, to protect them from other interested parties."

"Good call. So, um…Molly, I can't help but get the feeling, from this conversation, that you're regretting forming an alliance with me…"

"Oh! No, I don't mean to come off that way, or to stop you from what you're doing, even. I'm just worried about you, and would be devastated to see you become corrupted, despite having the best intentions."

I blushed deeply at her expression of value, feeling warm inside. "Thank you, Molly. I promise I'll meditate on your words. Though I should warn you, however, that I don't ALWAYS have the best intentions!"

She stood up, walked around the table, and chopped me heavily on the forehead. "And you were doing so well, too…"

"Sorry," I said with a grin as I rubbed my sore head. "I couldn't…" I stopped talking as I realized someone was clapping their hands in stately applause from behind Molly.

One Lucius Malfoy was the source, his luscious silvery-blonde hair blowing entrancingly in the wind. Clothed in debonair, flowing suit robes, he regarded us with narrowed eyes and a smug grin. "A very commendable hit, Molly. I see that, despite looking like an angel, you still refuse to act the part."

"Oh, Merlin!" Molly said, hand flying to her mouth briefly before she composed herself and sat down beside me. "I…"

"Oh, do not permit me to interrupt your discussion! By all means, continue!" Lucius said, wearing a mockery of a charming smile. Sadly, proper etiquette demanded that we welcome him to join in, anyway.

"N-not at all, Lucius! Feel free to take a seat, if you'd like," Molly said with barely concealed discomfort. They clearly were not fond of each other. I certainly didn't like the way he was eyeing her like a piece of candy.

"I prefer to stand, thank you kindly," Lucius drawled, towering over us. He turned to me measuredly and ran his eyes over my person. "So this diminutive fellow must be THE Peter Pettigrew, if I'm not mistaken."

"I am," I said, steeping my fingers together on the table but ready to draw my wand at a moment's notice.

"Funny – with all your fame, I had thought you'd appear more…" he mulled about for an appropriate word for a moment, "dignified."

Wow, starting off with an insult. He does NOT want me to like him. Doesn't this guy know I could destroy him?

"I am honored that the most gracious heir to the Malfoy family saw fit to correct me on my physical appearance. I will take your observations to heart, I assure you," I said, taking care to draw out each word I said like a well-bred person.

Lucius gave a sneer before turning his head to Molly. "You, on the other hand, look simply stunning today, Miss Prewitt. I've scarcely seen so beautiful a Gryffindor, if I'm to be honest with myself. Do you know – I've always been fond of the Prewitts," the former Head Boy said, punctuating his speech with several meaningless gasps, which I supposed he thought made him sound enticing and well-bred. I always thought it made him sound like he was asthmatic.

"I didn't before, but now I do. I appreciate this most useful information." I said cheekily.

Lucius gave me a look of utter scorn, continuing to Molly, "It was such a shame that you were sorted the way you were. Otherwise, I'm sure we might have gotten on better. You certainly seem to have an eye for…apt alliances."

I don't really know what he meant by that, exactly, but if he gasps any more, I'm afraid he'll either inflate or ejaculate.

Molly gave a small smile, saying, "You are far too kind, Lucius, but, although I know you think little of it, I'm fond of my House." Molly drew herself up, chin held high and chest forward. I noticed to my displeasure that Lucius's eyes flicked to her breasts for a moment before going back up to meet her eyes. "Though I must ask – to what do we owe the pleasure of your company this afternoon?"

"Oh, I was just passing through, enjoying the weather. It's always a pleasure to encounter those who actually deserve to dwell in the magical world, such as yourselves, and, so, here we are."

"In all honesty, Mr. Malfoy, you honour us with your presence," I said, trying to sort out his true purpose.

His cool grey eyes looked me over for a moment. "The honour is all mine, I assure you, to stand in the presence of such a skilled duelist as yourself. It's such a shame, though, what happened to poor Amycus Carrow, wouldn't you agree?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Not particularly. Was he a friend of yours?" I asked, cocking my head slightly towards his left forearm. Molly subtly shook her head at my words.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say I enjoyed his company," Lucius replied with a wry chuckle, "But he was a pureblooded wizard, and it's always a great shame when such precious blood is wasted, isn't it?"

"Well, while I do agree with you that pure blood is a precious commodity," I said, attempting to play his game right back to him. "I believe that certain wizards ought not to continue producing offspring. Those like Amycus, for instance." I smiled, obviously insinuating the same about Lucius himself. "It is for that reason that I do not regret his passing."

Lucius pursed his lips and nodded. "Perhaps. It is fortunate that his father is still able to produce progeny, though, or at least he was when last I heard. I wonder, however – I seem to have recently heard tell of a wizard threatening to murder poor, peace-loving Aedipos Carrow himself, just this morning. In his own home, if you can believe it! How distasteful. Who was the criminal again? I don't recall…"

I had to use all my effort to suppress my utter surprise. Somehow, despite the thorough memory wipe I'd dealt Carrow, apparently word had gotten out about our slight skirmish. Perhaps one of them had just pieced together the clues? Lucius had likely heard about the situation beforehand. "Really? Strange. I hadn't heard anything of the sort. I do hope noble Lord Carrow is alright," I responded with a plastic smile.

Is Lucius asking for a fight with me?

Lucius just smirked. "I also hear that you haven't been home in some time, yourself, young Mister Pettigrew. Your elderly father is injured at the moment, is he not? I do believe that was the reason he provided for not attending the Yule Festival this year."

I looked at him like he had just made a fascinating point. "I believe his injuries are recovering smoothly, and I am quite certain that he is still a potent duelist, regardless of his age. I'm sure he'll be able to defend himself if someone were to, say, break in to the house, at any rate."

"Oh, Mister Pettigrew – who ever said anything about breaking into your house? One might think you were clumsily attempting to insinuate something. Surely not!"

"No, of course not, Mister Malfoy; I was just giving an example."

"Indeed? Then you should have selected a more realistic one." His mouth spread into a finely-crafted grin. "Who on earth would think to rob your family? There's hardly a more destitute Pureblood family around. You even surpass the Weasleys in poverty, impressively."

I smiled in return, but inside, I dearly wanted to rip the skin off his face and break off his jaw. "It is as you say, sadly. I hope to one day return my House to its former glory."

Malfoy laughed harshly. "Unfortunately for you, that would be entirely nothing to brag about." He looked to Molly, who was quick to hide the frown on her face. "Oh! Dreadfully sorry. I seem to have neglected the lady present. I do hope you'll forgive my rudeness for getting dragged into this boy's pointless bickering!"

The wolfish grin he gave me over his shoulder then prompted my vision of his future self to flash unbidden to the fore of my mind. I shuddered in fear and repulsion as the images burned through my eyes.

Laughing in mirth as he slashes her alabaster body open over and over again.

Jabbing his wand in her eyes, bursting them open.

Shooting his semen over her mutilated, unrecognizable, quivering, organ-expelled remains.

"You are too weak, Wormtail," he taunts, using my Marauder name as a mockery. "You are so hilariously inept that you don't even MATTER!."

I fear NOTHING more than those images.

I have half a mind to slice his body into ribbons right now.

Wait…why am I NOT attacking him, again? He's a murderous Death Eater rapist slug who's using his prestige to bring about suffering, injustice, and blood hatred. He needs to die. What he's done and what he will do is unforgivable. I NEED to kill him.

I tried to think logically about the consequences, but, unlike with Bellatrix, I couldn't come up with a single convincing reason to not annihilate him on the spot; mostly owing, I suppose, to everything I'd seen him doing in my visions.

He's a monster. Diseased, evil, and irredeemable. He truly needs to get acquainted with death, NOW! Why hasn't anyone done him in yet?

I'm going to kill him. But what spell should I use? Something special, I think. Let's see…

I looked up at the swinging sign overhead, designed with the name of this outdoor tea shop. I could transfigure that easily into a massive steel pendulum…a BLACK steel pendulum, with a gothic design…and have it swoop down and magically guide it to cleave right into him, puncturing his thin, pale skin, and freeing all his crimson, pureblood juices, gushing forth on the ground for me to stomp in and bathe in!

It's perfect!

While he and Molly exchanged various aristocratic niceties, I grinned and slowly slid my wand into my hand…

"Oh! Look at the time!" Molly suddenly said in a loud voice.

I blinked, quickly slipping my wand back up my sleeve, fairly certain that Lucius never noticed it. In fact, he hadn't been looking at me at all since he started talking with Molly…too entranced by her breasts, evidently. That would have been a perfect chance…damn it! Why would she want to protect him?

As my heartbeat and adrenalin rush slowly subsided to normal levels, Molly cleared her throat. "I do apologize, Lucius, but Peter and I were about to make a trip to Gringotts before they close for the day. I hope you don't mind, but we really must be off!"

"Oh, is that so?" Lucius gasped, still not regarding me for some reason. "Why, you should have told me! I apologize for taking up your time."

"No, no, it's nothing. Thank you for stopping by! It's always lovely to see my old classmates again," Molly said with an impeccable portrayal of friendliness.

"The pleasure is all mine, my darling. I hope you continue to be well in these tumultuous times," Lucius said with something like care in his voice. He suddenly turned to me and gave me a blood chilling grin, his eyes looking quite deranged. "Until we meet again, Mister Pettigrew. Which will be sooner than later, I expect." And then he strode away, his blonde hair and black robe alike fluttering in the wind. Interesting…how soon did he mean? Was that a threat? It had to have been one.

After my shivers subsided, I looked to Molly with a frown. "That was horrible. Figures that someone like him would come ruin our date."

"For the five thousandth time, Peter, this isn't…"

"I know, I know. I was just pulling your leg. Or, rather, your very shapely, curvaceous leg, as I should say for accuracy's sake."

She didn't respond, choosing to fix me with a quite serious look. I sighed, knowing what she wanted to talk about.

"Why did you stop me?" I asked her in a measured tone.

"There are MANY reasons," she said, massaging her temples. "But, most importantly, I think it was a trap. There's a reason that Lucius Malfoy has been the only non-reporter to approach us this whole time – he must have anticipated that you would attack."

I cocked my head to the side. "I'm sure I could have beaten him."

"Knowing Lucius, he'd likely set a trap beyond the realm of your physical dueling aptitude – either he had friends lying in wait, a media trap waiting nearby, aurors…I'm not sure what, but he was up to something."

I almost punched myself. "Damn…you're right. That's the only thing that makes sense."

"Peter, you HAVE to start thinking about these things, and soon, or you're going to end up in a terrible position."

"I agree," I said, heaving a sigh.

"And that doesn't even begin to go into the number of other reasons you shouldn't have attacked."

I gave her an annoyed look. "More morality lecturing?"

"Hardly. Lucius was also testing you, you see. He probably noticed your short fuse just now, which he'll assuredly later use to his advantage against you." I gulped, remembering the creepy look he gave me as he left. She continued, "Lucius also values the traditional Slytherin methods of outwitting and fooling his opponent – you may have completely ruined your chance at gaining his respect."

"Why should I care – at all – what he thinks of me?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, if the Death Eaters now feel that you have a glaring weakness, that being your short fuse and inability to plan ahead, then they may continue their raids and murders unburdened with fear of you. Which, indeed, may give you the advantage at first, but will also put more people in danger, at first. So long as the Death Eaters are curious about you, they will hesitate more often in their movements."

"Wow! You're really something, Molly," I grinned. "Alright then, you've convinced me to mix up my movements a bit and keep them guessing."

"Sounds like a good start. But you truly need to learn to exhibit self-control, Peter," she warned. "Malfoy's murder would have caused drastic political upheaval, which would affect multitudes of lives in the Wizarding World. Do you really want the light side, the Death Eaters, AND the Ministry all hunting you down?"

"Good point."

"And I'm fairly certain our family alliance would be forced to end…"

"Alright! Alright. I understand," I said, looking about sheepishly. "I will control myself from now on."

Molly rolled her eyes. "Sure you will."

I'm really not very good at this thing called life. She's clearly lost most of her respect for me now. Which is a shame, since she's hotter than the bloody Equator in mid-summer.

I coughed. "Well, it's getting on in the evening. Will you be alright heading to Gringotts on your own?"

She nodded with a slight smile, getting up out of her seat and stretching. "Of course I will. I'm not a target in this war, yet. But you are, now, so Tessa or I will get dragged into it all, sooner or later. I'm more than a little capable of handling myself in a fight, though, I'll have you know." She smiled craftily. "The Prewitts are feared for a reason."

I smiled back. "I'm glad to hear it. Please be careful, though, anyway."

"Always, Peter. And I don't know what Remus has planned, but be sure to think everything through before taking any actions, alright?"

"I will."

She nodded and shyly stepped over to give me another tight hug, to my surprise. I was quick to return it, of course. "This was…interesting. We should talk again like this sometime."

"It would be my pleasure, Molly," I said warmly, looking affectionately into her eyes.

Her kind gaze turned to one of exasperation. "Somehow, you never seem entirely genuine when you say things that way."

"You wound me, Madam," I said with a wink. "Now, I'd best be off finding my pet Remus."

She gave an unladylike snort. "Okay. You go do that."

At 8 PM, I ducked into the Leaky Cauldron, wearing a heavy cloak to conceal my features. Remus was here somewhere…I looked about for someone sitting alone and away from others, and found a lone, thin, cloaked figure after a bit, tucked away in a back room behind the curve of the bar.

"Moony?" I asked him as I approached.

"Wormtail," he answered softly.

I figured that was as good way as any to gauge his identity, so I sat across from him, neither of us having our back exposed to a door or window.

Remus casted a Muffliato before speaking. "Thank you so much for coming, Peter."

"Anytime, mate. It's always a pleasure to see you with your nose not buried in the pages of a book," I said, beginning to lower the hood of my cloak.

"D-don't!" He warned, so I quickly slipped it back on. "Sorry, I just…" In the darkness of his hood I could see his fascinatingly orange eyes darting around nervously. "You never know who…or what…is watching."

I cocked my head. Something had him SPOOKED. "Er…sure. So you said something about wanting me to help you with…suppressing a threat of some kind? I have to admit, I'm intrigued."

Remus nodded. "It's bad news, Peter." He retrieved an unsealed envelope from his cloak and laid it on the table before me. "I received this, a potion, and an artifact enchanted to be a Portkey in a package by post yesterday."

"A potion?" I asked. "What…"

He gestured to the letter. "It explains within. I'd like you to read it."

I nodded, quickly pulling out the letter and reading it by the flickering candlelight.

To whom it may concern,

This letter found its way to you because of your hidden attributes. Do not fear, for you are among friends. The way of the wolf is quite painful, but glorious nonetheless. Do not recoil from who you are – embrace it!

Our day is coming. We will soon take back the world and take compensation for all it has subjected us to. Take this potion in hand and use it to bring more to the pack. It's a new creation called the Wolfsbeck Potion – it mimics the effects of lunar light on the bloodstream of our kind, allowing us to unleash our true selves at any time.

Let us band together as one, on the first of January, at 10:00 PM. Use the enclosed Portkey to access our temporary den. There, we will welcome you as one of our own. You no longer have to run, to fear, to hate yourself. We are the most powerful of all Dark Creatures, and the day is ours to seize!

Feel free to test the potion to ensure its veracity, and bring any new converts. Very soon we will greatly outnumber those who seek to control us. For the first time in history, we will conquer all who oppose us, as it should have always been since the dawn of the wolf.

Yours in blood

"Holy shit!" I breathed, dropping the note and looking wild-eyed at Remus. "What the hell? Have you tested the potion at all?"

"Of course not," Remus snarled. "You know I'm awful at Potions…and I'm certainly not about to transform on purpose."

"Right. Makes sense," I said, "Do you have it with you?"

"Yes."

I took the "Wolfsbeck Potion" from his hand and peered into it, using a Lumos to illuminate as much of the consistency as I could. The potion contained multiple shades – a bright green at the base, a dark violet in the middle, and a rusty red at the top. There were two separate consistencies visible in the vial – the bottom half was thick, sludgy, and looked to have very small pine clippings of some sort. The rest of it was bubbly, transparent, and quite dangerous-looking.

"Do you recognize it at all?" Remus asked nervously.

I frowned. "No. There aren't very many potions with two consistencies and three tones…and none of them that I've seen or read about fit this description. It looks like, at the very least, it's a new potion."

Remus nodded, having probably expected that result. "Peter…I'm going to attend the meeting."

I sat the potion down and gathered my thoughts for a moment. "Are you sure that's a wise course of action?"

"What do I have to lose? I am one of them, after all." He clenched his fists. "It's Greyback, Peter. My other 'father.' This madness…that monstrosity must be stopped!"

I froze, looking quickly back at the note. "How do you…"

"It's his scent. It's all over it. Like he rubbed his bloody arse with it."

I grimaced and dropped the note immediately.

"Not literally. That's just how thickly it's emitting his scent. I'd…recognize it anywhere," Remus said, shivering.

"Okay. Er, by the way, why are we meeting here, rather than at your house, come to think of it?"

He shook his head. "I don't want my parents to find out, if at all possible."

I nodded. "Fair enough. So…you're going to the meeting…to, what, ambush him and a whole pack of his offspring? Alone?"

I felt Remus's gaze more than I saw it. "I didn't call you here just to analyze the potion, my friend. I thought that you could port there with me under a strong Disillusionment Charm, and we'd take Greyback by surprise. After he falls, chaos would ensue – the other werewolves will inevitably start warring against one another to establish a new alpha. We can leave in the tumult. Simple as cake. If things go badly at first, we can always port right back."

I furrowed my brow. "Remus…that's a really, REALLY stupid idea."

He glared back. "How is that even vaguely more stupid than having someone flog the skin and muscle off your back for a couple new spells?" Before I could retort, he drove on. "Come on. You know you owe me. And you're ridiculously powerful, you can't deny it." He clenched his fist so tightly his arm started shaking. "Help me get my revenge, Peter."

I winced. I really didn't think this plan would work. And I couldn't help but recall Molly's warning about acting without thinking. But, as he said, I was his best shot at taking on Greyback…and we finally have his location…and I certainly did owe him one.

"I…" I sighed. "Fine. I'll do it."

I could see the white of Remus's grin from under his hood as he clapped me roughly on the shoulder. "Thanks, Peter. You're a true friend."

"Have you considered, though, whether it would be better to simply take this to Professor Dumbledore?"

Remus shook his head. "I'd rather do this myself, if at all possible…it needs to be one of Greyback's progeny that does him in. It needs to be ME. I can't even conceive how psychotic that man must be – who on earth could be twisted enough to want to go through that thrice-damned transformation ON PURPOSE?

"And to force countless others into doing it? And to take pleasure at corrupting them and condemning them to this life of shite? And THEN to welcome them with open arms like we're one big family? How can he DO that, when he knows how awful a werewolf's life is?! There's no glory at all in it, and there never will be. It is an accursed existence."

He sat back. "Ever since I found out the kind of man my "father" was…I've always vowed that, if I ever do one thing in this miserable sack of shite that is my life…it would be to kill that bastard. Even if I die trying, it would be worth it to me." He looked up at me with a recognizably bloodthirsty look in his eyes. "You're obsessed with killing the Dark Lord, correct? So you understand how I feel! This is my only chance to repay that, that…abomination that tore through any hope I'd ever have for a normal life." He leaned back. "So, no, Peter. I don't think I will tell Professor Dumbledore about this."

I gulped. Remus was more ferocious right now than I'd ever seen him in human form. "Er…I don't disagree on any particular point, mate. However, I do think it would be wise to get someone else on this mission whom we can trust. The more wands we have, the better."

"Indeed. I was actually about to ask you about that."

"So you were thinking about inviting them, too?"

"Of course. But I didn't, since I know you've had some kind of…falling out with them, recently."

I shook my head. "That's very considerate of you, but be that as it may, we're all still loyal to YOU, so I can't imagine why they wouldn't want to help. Besides, Sirius, at least, seems to have forgiven me. So we could at least contact him."

"Have you heard about what happened with Sirius over the break?"

"Er…no?"

"He was kicked out of his family; his lovely mother slashed him off his Family Tree," Remus said sadly.

"W-wow…that must be painful."

"Well…for any SANE person, I think it'd be painful," Remus chuckled slightly. "But Sirius, I think, is looking at it as another act of rebellion – so it's a victory in his eyes."

I shook my head slightly. "He's actually happy that he's been excommunicated from his family? I'm…not surprised."

"Sadly, I know just what you mean. Anyway, he's staying with the Potters now, so it's likely that we'll have to propose the operation to them at the same time."

"I see," I said, frowning a moment. "I don't really fancy talking with James at this time, but I don't think we have much choice. Besides, the fact that they're both Animagi AND can withstand a werewolf bite without dying, which I cannot do, would make them extremely helpful to have on this…er, attack."

Remus nodded. "Thanks, again, Peter. This is…really important to me."

"Hey, it's important to me, too, mate." I said, clapping him on the arm. "We don't want another two hundred Moonies to spring up because we failed to act." Out of habit, we did the two-person version of the secret Marauder handshake, complete with miniature fireworks, butt bumps, and exploding bananas.

A nearby bar patron gave us a look like we were escaped mental patients, which both Remus and I returned with a blankly confused look, as though we'd done absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

A/N: Right-o, chaps and lassies! Let's move on to some pure Marauder action and splendour! :D Come along, look lively!