Author notes: Just something I wrote to appease my muses, and to stop
this song going around and around my head.
This contains slash, so if you don't like it, please don't read it and then
flame me. You have been warned!
Dedicated to Lady Feylene, who's
Peter slash has always been much better than mine, and to all at the Society for
the Ethical Treatment of Peter Pettigrew mailing list; this one's for you!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hero
I watch him flick his black hair off his face and wonder at the casual
sexuality he exudes. His almost feline grace makes me shiver with barely
suppressed desire. His blue eyes can see straight into my soul – when he deigns
to turn them towards me. For he is James; Head Boy, Quidditch
Captain, girls’ favourite, and I am Peter. Nothing. No-one.
Why would he want me?
//Would you dance
If I asked you to dance?//
It is the Yule Ball, and I feel that I am the only Gryffindor without a
partner. Sirius and Camilla are dancing, and Remus
and Lily are talking quietly in one corner. James, I can not see, but surely he
would merely choose from his own personal harem of girls, rather than come
single. And it was very unlike my friend to mope upstairs in the common
room. That was more something I would do.
“Peter?” I spin at the touch of a hand on my shoulder, shaking myself from
foolish thoughts. It is James, looking divine in dress-robes of scarlet and sombre black. I blush, and he arches his eyebrow, the sight
almost bringing me to my knees.
//Would you run
And never look back?//
“You…you…don’t…where is your date?” I stammer lamely.
He does not smile as I expect him to, but rather leans closer, his nose
almost to mine, and I see in his eyes something I have only ever dreamt of.
“I was hoping you could fill that role, Wormtail,”
he says throatily. I can to nothing but stare as he takes my chubby hand in his
own slender one, and leads me onto the dance floor. He holds me in his arms and
I rock with him to the steady beat of the music. Everything seems hazy, cloudy,
and for a moment, there is no-one but we two.
Until, of course, Sirius pushes between us in his usual rough way, and I
sigh as he first turns to me, and then to his best friend, fear and anger
warring for places in his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing?” he explodes at us. I barely hear him, or his
girlfriend’s shocked gasp as he curses at both of us. In my state of detached
amazement I notice trivial things; there are small drops of foamy spittle
forming on Sirius’ lips and flying through the air as he yells. I am so
fascinated by their slow, graceful arc, and I do not realise
Sirius is still shouting until he shakes me brutally.
“Peter! What were you thinking? Everyone was watching! You’re such a fool.”
Both James and Remus try to hold him back,
unwilling to disturb the fragile peace of the Marauders, but Sirius shakes them
off like the dog he is and takes a swing at me. I feel it connect with my lower
jaw, and though the comment hurt more than the punch, with a sharp crack the
world comes back to me, both the good and the bad. I turn swiftly and run out
of the room. I am always running, it seems.
//Would you cry
If you saw me crying?//
James finds me later, sobbing rather hysterically in an abandoned classroom.
There are no words between us, but he sooths me as he rubs my back in big, slow
circles. After a little while I notice that there are tears on his face too,
but he dismisses them as nothing, claiming he only wants to care for me. I lean
over and hesitantly lick them away, the taste of his salt fresh and tangy in my
mouth, then kiss him full on the lips.
//And would you save my soul tonight?//
I am surprised when he kisses me back. I suppose this whole evening has been
one long surprise. I would ruminate on that while still having him in my mouth,
but he pulls away and I have no choice but to ask the question I feel could be
my destruction.
//Would you tremble
If I touched your lips?//
“Do you love me?” I whisper softly into his curvaceous pink shell of an ear.
He pushes me further away; his eyes dark with what I believe to be passion, and
tells me not to ask such questions. I am injured, but as he puts it; “Some
things do not have to be said aloud.”
//Would you laugh?
Oh please tell me this.//
“I want to…make love to you.” I say unsteadily. He smiles sardonically, and
for a moment I am afraid he will laugh, and tell me this has just been yet
another cruel prank thought up by him and Sirius…
But then I realise it is self-mockery as he kisses
me again, and my fears are washed away as there is only him…him…him…
I lie naked in his arms afterwards, enjoying the feel of his smooth chest
against my back. The stone floor is cold and hard underneath us, but somehow I
do not care. I dare not move, for fear of waking him and sending him away.
There is total silence except for the music of the Ball, in some distant region
of the school.
“Peter?”
//And would you die
For the one you love?//
That is the second time he has said my name like that tonight. I turn over
and face him, savouring his warm breath on my face.
“What is it?” I mumble, feigning sleep still, or at least that edge of
wakefulness one feels at two in the morning.
“Is…there something wrong? Is there something you’re not telling me? Us?”
I think of Lucius Malfoy
and his threats he issues in dark corners to the weak and pitiful. I think of Severus Snape and the way his
mouth felt on mine when I told him I would help his master. I think of Lord Voldemort himself and his sneering Death Eaters, crowding
around me, laughing at pointing at the poor, naked, whimpering helpless rat
on the floor as they torture him within an inch of his life, torture him with
knives and curses and intimidation, tortures him until he will do anything, anything
to make the pain stop. And I think of the shame and hate in Sirius’ eyes when
he realised his friend Peter was gay.
//Just hold me in your arms tonight.//
“No,” I whisper, snuggling into his chest, “Although I am a little cold.”
“Oh, good,” says James, obviously relieved, “It’s just…you’ve been acting a
little strange lately. So look, if anyone is bothering you – yes, even Sirius –
then tell me, would you? I swear I’ll always be here for you.”
I sit up and reach for my discarded clothes. “Let’s go back to the
dormitory,” I say, my teeth chattering noisily, “It’s much warmer, and they’ll
be wondering where we are.”
James grins at that, and unfurls his slim body, rising and stretching and
dressing. We head towards the common room, hand in hand.
We exist like this for a while, kisses in secrecy and words hanging between
us. Remus had accepted our coupling, but Sirius
devoutly claimed that homosexuality was a mark of the Dark Arts. After a stern
talking-to from Moony he seemed to be able to hang around us again, but when I
absently touched James’ hand in class, I could have sworn I saw a look of pain
and hatred cross his face. I reduced one misery in my life to a dwindling fear
by avoiding Snape in the corridors. Now the end of
term has rolled around, we are all studying like mad for our NEWTs. I haven’t really had the chance to spend time with
James of late. I go to his Quidditch games, whether
practice or competition, and sit in the stands and cheer him on as any good
boyfriend would do, but it is really not the same. Our last big talk was only
the other night, but it felt like an age ago.
He had slipped into my bed during the dead of the night when all the other
boys were asleep, and had taken me hard and fast. Then, before I could drift
off into blissful sleep, he had turned me over. His usually sensual mouth had
been set in a line, and his eyes were determined sapphires.
//Will you swear
That you’ll always be here?//
“Peter…we need to talk.”
I cocked my head to one side in curiosity. “About what?”
I asked, all innocence and naivety.
“Us. Our relationship.”
His tone was hopeless.
“I don’t see that there’s anything wrong with it!” I had said.
“Peter, we…we…we are both men!” he pointed out.
“So?” I replied obstinately, “Why does that mean we have to be any different
from a ‘normal’ couple?”
James just sighed, as though I shouldn’t need to ask. “I don’t think I want
to be with you if you’re going to be like this. I’ll tell you later, when
you’re in a better mood.”
He had climbed out of my bed and kissed me gently; a
goodbye kiss. I was left there to wonder where he had gone – not back to
his own bed, surely? I had been so used to us spending
the whole night together, whether lovemaking, talking, studying, or even
sleeping, that it came as a shock to be alone. He was gone.
//Would you lie?//
I have not talked to him since then. So I am going to the match against Ravenclaw today, to actively seek him out and ask him what
he meant, and if I have to I will beg for his forgiveness. I will corner him, I
decide to myself, and ask him what is wrong, as he once asked me. So I seat
myself in the stands next to my friends and cheer on my team like any
Gryffindor worth his salt, my eyes fixed on the crimson streak that is my
Seeker.
The game ends after an hour or so – a spectacular catch of the Golden Snitch
by James – and the players troop of the field. I
excuse myself from the celebrations and follow like a shadow, my silence and
speed belying my form, which I know to be plump.
//Would you run and hide?//
I do not at first realise what I see as I peep
into the changing rooms. It is my James, and another, Lily, a tall red-haired
girl who had dated Remus since fourth year. They are
entwined in a deep passionate kiss. Suddenly everything is happening too
quickly James looks up over her shoulder, and I know he can see me standing in
the doorway and the hurt in my eyes. There is a wounded expression on his face
as I turn and walk away in disgust, out onto the cold wind of the Quidditch pitch.
I find out later that they have been dating for at least a month, but no-one
had possessed heart enough to tell me. James comes to me and tries to explain,
but I ignore him. Let him see what it has been like for me all my life, before
he stepped in and made me special. He had promised he’d always be there
for me. I had assumed that to mean he loved me. I wish I had keyed to the fact
that he would never say it aloud.
But life goes on. I pass all my tests, if only just. In a stubborn fury,
after James comes to me yet again, I ask, no, demand Severus
to brand the Dark Mark into my arms. Then I feign resignation as my lover and
his lover are married. James was very happy that day, as he thought I had
finally forgiven him for although I had denied his offer of best man, letting
Sirius have that glory, I still attended the wedding.
As revenge I told my master that James was, magically, very powerful, but
had sided with Dumbledore against him. I regretted instantly this misdemeanour as Voldemort swore
to hunt him down, but it was too late. When I heard that the couple and their
new baby boy had considered using a Secret Keeper, I was overjoyed. Sirius
would be the perfect choice – he would keep them safe from Voldemort…and
me…
//Am I in too deep?
Have I lost my mind?//
There is a knock at my chamber door, and I rise from my chair before the
fire to answer it. There stands my prideful lover, dripping with the rain, wife
and child nowhere in sight.
“What are you doing here?” I say abruptly. I know I sound stupid and weak
and rude, but I have resigned myself to everything I say coming out that way.
“C…can I come in?” he asks, teeth chattering with the cold. Against my
better judgment, I nod my head in assent, and stand aside to admit him.
When we are both seated in front of my warm fire, James shakes out his wet
hair and leans forward.
“I know you don’t trust me, Peter. But I trust you. So that is why I would
like to make you my Secret Keeper. That means—“
“I know what that means.” I interrupt. But he doesn’t take the hint. He
comes to sit beside me, his long-fingered hands playing across my face.
“I’m sorry, Wormtail.” He whispers in my ear, and
his apology and use of our old nicknames for each other are too much for the
detachment that acted as a barrier against feelings. My love for him rushes in.
//I don’t care, you’re here
Tonight.//
I kiss him, and am filled once again with his heady scent. We spend the
night together on the bear-skin rug in front of my fireplace. He puts his life
into my hands and with a few well chosen words whispered into his ear, I accept
it.
When I wake up, he is gone, and I feel like a fool again.
I curse angrily, looking for the key to my spirits cupboard. I only want to
chase away the memory of all that happened here tonight, banish the awful
thoughts I am having from my mind. As I down tumbler after tumbler of brandy,
eventually drinking straight from the bottle, my mind grows blissfully blank…
I awake in the ruins of a house with a pounding headache. Standing makes my
head throb all the harder, but I do it just the same, for I expect that it is
my little garret. But the broken sign on the ground before me speaks more
truthfully than any words could.
“Godric’s Hollow,” I breath the words aloud for
the second time in my life, “Oh god, what have I done?”
I run frantically into the ruined house. How could this happen? I see James
lying on the floor, and I move to him, fearing what I know I must now face. It
feels oddly comforting to cradle his still body in my arms this last time. His
beauty is breathtaking, even in death.
I cry over my broken hero, bitter tears that I should have spilt that
fateful afternoon after the Quidditch match.
There is a baby’s cry in the next room that brings me back from my reverie.
I follow the sound to its source; a sweet young boy lying untouched on a rug in
the ruins of the living room. Obviously Lord Voldemort
had missed little Harry, and I am so grateful at this turn of fate, and he
looks so much like James, that I take him in my arms and cuddle him. But I must
put him gently to rest again, as I hear voices outside.
“In memory of the one I lost.” I whisper as I use my skill as an Animagi, something that has long laid
dormant inside me, and I flee from my shattered dreams and those who seek to
confront me with them. The mind of a rat is so much simpler than that of a
human.
I pass the following night in a deep despair. And then, like looking through
water and seeing my own reflection, I confront Sirius, whose face is as pale
and haggard as my own. He knows what I have done, and does not understand that
I was drunk and tired and upset. I know he will kill me if I let him, something
I think he has wanted to do for a long time now. So I pull out my last line of defence; denial.
“You killed him!” I hear myself squeal, “James and Lily, Sirius! How could
you?”
I guess I sort of meant it. I had been ready to let bygones be bygones;
James would disappear out of my life. But Sirius, damn the man, had convinced
James to give Secret Keeper over to me. If he had only accepted his given role
and not forced it on to me! I do something I regard as rather rash, but is understandable; I blow up the street, and a little bit of
myself as well. I know it is wrong to leave Sirius to take the blame, but…
I turn into a rat and flee from the path my thoughts are taking. I can not
tread that way again, and will do anything to avoid it.
I am always running, it seems.
//I can be your hero baby,
I can kiss away the pain.
I can stand by you forever.
You can take my breath away.//
END
Draw your own conclusions. Then review.