The Marauders: Year Four

The Pawn

The Pawn

The business the Dark Lord had to conduct with Peter in the privacy of the parlor had been most horrible business indeed. Under the imperius curse held by the Blind Seer, Peter had sat down at a little table in the parlor room. He had left Peter alone like that for sometime, allowing the situation to really stew in Peter's captive mind, allow the realizations of exactly what was happening sink in.

My mother's alive, Peter thought.

She's alive. She's here. Alive.

But he's going to kill her.

Using me.

He said I was going to kill her.

But she's alive now. She's alive.

The Dark Lord's here. I'm in the clutches of the Dark Lord. I'm probably going to die, too. But right now mum's alive and so am I.

If only Sirius was here or James or Remus. If only they were here, maybe we could figure out how to get out of here and we could all escape and live through this all.

Why's it got to be me that's here? Me. I'm not able to do this alone. I'm not able to save myself and my mum and Frank and Alice too.

Maybe Frank is.

Maybe Frank will save us all. Frank can do it. He's brave. Much braver than I am... That's not hard, though, to be braver than me.

I'm a coward. Everyone says so.

What will Annalee think when she finds I've been killed? Will she be sad? Will she care at all? I hope she's sad for me. I hope I mean enough that she'll perhaps shed a tear that I'm gone.

Probably she won't, though. Probably nobody will.

Probably they won't even notice I've gone.

I've never meant that much to anyone.

Except my mum.

She's alive...

And the thoughts had started all over again... a cycle of panicked words racing through his arrested mind.

Whether it was hours or minutes that had passed in the dark and silence, lost in his trembling thoughts, Peter could never tell. But finally, the door had creaked opened and Mopsus had entered. The old man's twisted cane scraped the floor as he walked across the room to the table where Peter sat. They were alone. Mopsus roughly dropped a small tray before Peter. It contained a silver goblet with the Lestrange crest on it, full of dark purple mead, some bread, and a small hunk of cheese. There was even a few squares of chocolate there on the tray as well.

"It's said that rats like cheese," murmured Mopsus.

Peter felt his limbs reach for the cheese and rip it apart, felt it go into his mouth, felt himself chewing it and swallowing it, Mopsus' control guiding his limbs.

Mopsus sat across from Peter at the table and sighed, gripping his cane. The milky eyes stared off, unfocused and unseeing, as he made Peter eat the food. The mead was horrible, it burned Peter's throat as it went down, but Mopsus made him drink it and a warm sensation coursed through his veins...

When the food was gone and Peter's hands had rested the silver goblet back down on the tray, Mopsus drew a deep breath and resettled himself upon the seat across from his captive audience. Peter's eyes stared straight ahead.