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cowardly-tagalong-blog · 8 years ago

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The air was still. He passed the masked trick-or-treaters in a blur as he raced down the street, his shoes thudding without an ounce of grace across the pavement. Air was lost to him between the running and the sobbing. His heart was beating in his throat. Fear raced through him as his new tattoo caused searing pain to tear its way up his arm. The street was surprisingly calm given the chaos that had ensued. Only a few frightened muggles raced past Peter, running the opposite direction.

There was a loud crack and a taller figure was running towards Peter. No, not /towards/ Peter, he realized, but towards the same destination coming from the opposite side. They stopped at the same time, the only distance separating them was that of the gate left ajar as Peter stared at the broken down door he had gone through so many times.

They were too late.

The man across from him stared, too, and their gazes slowly met each other's. The long mess of curls made Peter's heart drop. The words spoken from the man only enhanced the feeling.

"Peter..." The man began, voice low and shaking. Peter took a step back as his wand hand opened, ready to reach for his only means of defense. "Si-- ... Sirius, This isn't... I- J-Just l-let me--" Peter stammered, continuing to step back as the man took one step towards him. The light from a lamppost brought his face into view. It was a face Peter knew well, though in a new form. Shock and disbelief was evident across Sirius' face, and his eyes shining with what was only the beginning of many tears. The guilt was clear on Peter’s face, but he couldn’t help the twinge of superiority that followed. Did I get you, finally? Are you hurting, Sirius? Welcome to my world---

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" He bellowed, casting Peter backwards with a spell before Peter's hand reached his wand. Peter tried to stammer several words out, but none made it past the first syllable. Every time he started, another spell would jolt through him and his body convulsed. "YOU KNEW? YOU KNEW-- IT WAS /YOU/ THIS WHOLE TIME?!" Sirius yelled out, his voice echoing in the silent road, bouncing off the walls of the home where their friends were dead. Where James and Lily...And it was all his fault.

"Y-You don't understand, Sirius, I---" Peter scrambled backwards as best he could. Sirius was on top of him, though, and his vision blacked as Sirius' fists collided with his skin.

"Understand?! Understand this, Pettigrew, you’re dead. YOU WERE THEIR FRIEND!" Sirius bellowed, attacking every bit of Peter he could touch. Peter managed to slither out of his grip, rolling until his hand felt a familiar piece of wood. He cast a spell towards Sirius to no avail. Defense spells were not Peter's strong suit. He ran backwards as far as he could before falling again. People had begun to gather, now, attracted by the noise and shouting over the scene they were witnessing. Neither man cared, though. This fight was a long time coming, and suddenly Peter was boiling with the rage he spent so many years suppressing. Every moment of jealousy, pain, humiliation that Sirius caused for him bubbled to the surface.

Peter pointed his wand at a motorcar that was near Sirius and him, and he yelled out "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" before ducking for cover. The car exploded, and the debris showered across the street- injuring several people in the vicinity. Peter felt more discomfort coming from his hand but he hadn't the time to give it attention. Sirius had begun casting a stream of spells, as well, and the two of them dueled viciously. Jets of light zipped past the men, and there were screams from the witnesses as they were caught in the crossfire. Shrubs caught fire, more objects exploded, muggles knocked backwards several feet, several fled the scene but some remained, too scared or too awestruck to move.

Peter heard the dreaded words: "AVADA KEDAVRA" and his eyes widened with disbelief as he realized he was the one who had yelled them. The green light flew past Sirius and hit one of the muggle bystanders. She dropped with a soft thud, but it rang loudly in Peter’s ears. The spells stopped; clearly Sirius was just as taken aback by the moment as Peter was. Peter Pettigrew, the sweet boy who once mourned the loss of certain plants, just killed someone. Peter looked down at his hands and to add to his horror, he realized his right index finger had been blown off in one of the explosions. There was a split second of silence before Peter came to his senses. This was his only moment.

He ran. His feet bounced and skidded across the wreckage caused by the fight, Peter mumbled the transformation spell to himself and two feet became four. He dropped to the ground as a rat and scurried as fast as he could to the nearest sewage entrance. He heard Sirius yelling and screaming his name as he tried to chase him, jets of red and green light were nearly missed by Peter before he fell to safety. “---Dead, Pettigrew! DEAD!”

More voices and footsteps were added to the mix as what sounded like Aurors arrived to the site, but Peter still heard Sirius’ voice as if it were right in his ear. He wanted to die. He wanted to hurt, he wanted to be punished. He wanted to beg for forgiveness. He wanted to see James one last time... The damage was done, Peter made his choice. He never looked back.

#writing

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cowardly-tagalong-blog · 8 years ago

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