Remus meets an old friend...
Warily Remus moved along a narrow back passageway of the castle. Even though a Disillusionment Charm allowed him to blend easily into the shadows, he didn’t count on it to keep him from being discovered. As he approached a crossing with a larger corridor he could hear the faint sounds of movement in the space beyond, so he flattened himself against the grey stones and waited.
The sounds grew closer, and as he watched from concealment, a single dark robed figure appeared, walking cautiously down the main corridor, glancing briefly into the hallway where Remus stood, then passing on, apparently unaware of his presence. Remus waited where he was for the Death Eater to get a bit farther along, but before he could come out from concealment to follow, a second figure, more stealthy than the first, crossed the opening as well.
After a moment more, when no one else appeared, Remus crept along the wall and peered cautiously around the corner, staring after the two Death Eaters. Suddenly, the smaller man raised his wand and shot the larger one in the back, causing him to stiffen unnaturally and fall to the ground.
In a flash the small man was atop the larger, and as he threw aside his mask and stared gloatingly down at his victim, Remus recognized the sharp, haggard features of Peter Pettigrew. Wondering what Pettigrew could possibly be up to attacking one of his own allies this way, Remus watched, uncertain what to do.
Pettigrew smirked down at his helpless captive for a moment before pulling off the man’s mask and shaking a trembling finger in his frozen face.
“You shouldn’t have wandered off alone. People get hurt when they go off alone, don’t they? Isn’t that what you told me when you and your friends caught me alone on an errand? I warned you, I wouldn’t forget…that I’d get you back, didn’t I?” He giggled, a mad sound in the silence.
“Of course, you didn’t believe me, did you? After all, you’re big and strong, with big, strong friends and what am I? Small and weak in comparison.” He held up his silver hand, waving it close to the man’s eyes. “You think me nothing but the ill-favoured lapdog of our Master, but you forget the gift he gave me. It wasn’t wise of you to forget. I never do.”
He shook his head. “No, I never do…not a slight, not a cross word, not a nasty turn do I ever forget, and now it’s my time to settle old scores. Now, when the battle will provide all the cover I need. Poor Wilborn…a casualty of war…how tragic.”
Smiling hatefully, Pettigrew got to his feet and aimed his wand at the man lying helpless on the floor. “First a little pain, I think. Crucio!”
The petrified man quivered slightly, his eyes glazed over and tears began to course silently down his cheeks as Pettigrew, full of vengeful glee, kept the curse going for long, agonizing moments.
Then abruptly he seemed to tire of that silent torture and, dropping his wand, he began to kick his victim as hard as he could…in the ribs, in the face, anywhere his feet could touch. The cracking of bones and the wet squelch of battered flesh echoed in the still corridor. Then, finally, when the man was sufficiently bloody and broken to satisfy, Pettigrew reached down and deliberately cut the man’s carotid with one swipe of a silver finger, stepping back quickly to avoid the gush of blood.
This final bit of cruelty spurred Remus into action. Stepping out from his hiding place, he took two, three, four quick strides to bring him up behind the gloating Pettigrew. Grabbing the revolting little man by the throat, Remus jammed his wand up under Pettigrew’s fat chin and growled, “You really are a disgusting maggot, Peter. Why the sorting hat ever placed you in Gryffindor I will never understand. Twice now I’ve spared your life out of pity and remembrance, and twice now you’ve proved what a mistake that was. You don’t deserve compassion. You’ve never had any for others.”
“Re..mus!” Pettigrew choked as he squirmed desperately in Lupin’s strong grip. “My old friend…can’t we talk thi…”
“Old friend!” Remus laughed and pushed his wand deeper into the flabby flesh of Pettigrew’s neck. “You don’t have the slightest idea what the word friend truly means. I guess today really is a day for settling old scores. Say goodbye, Peter, and pray that whoever awaits you on the other side, treats you more kindly than you deserve.”
“No!” Panic seized Pettigrew, and flailing wildly over his shoulder with his wand, he sent a bolt of magic up into the ceiling above their heads, blasting it to pieces and bringing a cascade of masonry down on top of them, burying them both.
The sounds grew closer, and as he watched from concealment, a single dark robed figure appeared, walking cautiously down the main corridor, glancing briefly into the hallway where Remus stood, then passing on, apparently unaware of his presence. Remus waited where he was for the Death Eater to get a bit farther along, but before he could come out from concealment to follow, a second figure, more stealthy than the first, crossed the opening as well.
After a moment more, when no one else appeared, Remus crept along the wall and peered cautiously around the corner, staring after the two Death Eaters. Suddenly, the smaller man raised his wand and shot the larger one in the back, causing him to stiffen unnaturally and fall to the ground.
In a flash the small man was atop the larger, and as he threw aside his mask and stared gloatingly down at his victim, Remus recognized the sharp, haggard features of Peter Pettigrew. Wondering what Pettigrew could possibly be up to attacking one of his own allies this way, Remus watched, uncertain what to do.
Pettigrew smirked down at his helpless captive for a moment before pulling off the man’s mask and shaking a trembling finger in his frozen face.
“You shouldn’t have wandered off alone. People get hurt when they go off alone, don’t they? Isn’t that what you told me when you and your friends caught me alone on an errand? I warned you, I wouldn’t forget…that I’d get you back, didn’t I?” He giggled, a mad sound in the silence.
“Of course, you didn’t believe me, did you? After all, you’re big and strong, with big, strong friends and what am I? Small and weak in comparison.” He held up his silver hand, waving it close to the man’s eyes. “You think me nothing but the ill-favoured lapdog of our Master, but you forget the gift he gave me. It wasn’t wise of you to forget. I never do.”
He shook his head. “No, I never do…not a slight, not a cross word, not a nasty turn do I ever forget, and now it’s my time to settle old scores. Now, when the battle will provide all the cover I need. Poor Wilborn…a casualty of war…how tragic.”
Smiling hatefully, Pettigrew got to his feet and aimed his wand at the man lying helpless on the floor. “First a little pain, I think. Crucio!”
The petrified man quivered slightly, his eyes glazed over and tears began to course silently down his cheeks as Pettigrew, full of vengeful glee, kept the curse going for long, agonizing moments.
Then abruptly he seemed to tire of that silent torture and, dropping his wand, he began to kick his victim as hard as he could…in the ribs, in the face, anywhere his feet could touch. The cracking of bones and the wet squelch of battered flesh echoed in the still corridor. Then, finally, when the man was sufficiently bloody and broken to satisfy, Pettigrew reached down and deliberately cut the man’s carotid with one swipe of a silver finger, stepping back quickly to avoid the gush of blood.
This final bit of cruelty spurred Remus into action. Stepping out from his hiding place, he took two, three, four quick strides to bring him up behind the gloating Pettigrew. Grabbing the revolting little man by the throat, Remus jammed his wand up under Pettigrew’s fat chin and growled, “You really are a disgusting maggot, Peter. Why the sorting hat ever placed you in Gryffindor I will never understand. Twice now I’ve spared your life out of pity and remembrance, and twice now you’ve proved what a mistake that was. You don’t deserve compassion. You’ve never had any for others.”
“Re..mus!” Pettigrew choked as he squirmed desperately in Lupin’s strong grip. “My old friend…can’t we talk thi…”
“Old friend!” Remus laughed and pushed his wand deeper into the flabby flesh of Pettigrew’s neck. “You don’t have the slightest idea what the word friend truly means. I guess today really is a day for settling old scores. Say goodbye, Peter, and pray that whoever awaits you on the other side, treats you more kindly than you deserve.”
“No!” Panic seized Pettigrew, and flailing wildly over his shoulder with his wand, he sent a bolt of magic up into the ceiling above their heads, blasting it to pieces and bringing a cascade of masonry down on top of them, burying them both.