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Throwing Stones


Peter Pettigrew knocked upon Minerva McGonagall’s office door. He stood, timidly shifting his weight from foot to foot and clutching the purple velvet bag that carried his divination crystals. He looked nervously down the hallway and bit his lower lip, his nostrils flared a little. It took several moments before the door opened and it was not Minerva McGonagall who stood in the frame but, rather, Elphinstone Urquart. He raised an eyebrow at Peter a moment, then stepped back, pulling open the door so Minerva, who was pacing before her office floo, could see who had come to visit.

“Peter,” she said, her voice thick with the Scottish accent. “What are you doing here, my boy?”

He was still breathless from running down the stairs, and having a hard time catching it, too, because of how worked up he was. He had been being rather lazy, eating some of Remus Lupin’s chocolate from the hollowed book on the bottom shelf, and thought he might use the stones to check on how his friends were doing. Peter had sent an owl to James without hearing back. He understood. Holidays were rather busy and with Remus and Sirius there, surely James was extra busy and just didn’t have time to write Peter back… So Peter had been throwing the stones… and what had cast terrified him.

“I was hoping you could answer a question I had about my stones,” he explained, holding up the bag.

Professor Urquart looked wary, “Mr. Pettigrew, isn’t it?”

Peter nodded.

“This isn’t the best time. I’m sorry. Professor McGonagall’s currently acting as the Deputy Headmistress as Headmaster Dumbledore is away…” Urquart hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Peter too much. Dumbledore had specifically told them not to alarm any of the students while he was away and Peter looked alarmed enough already - bit twitchy, this one.

Peter looked crestfallen. “But it’s sort of --”

“Mr. Pettigrew,” McGonagall’s voice cut him off, stern, “I will speak to you first thing in the morning. I haven’t the time right at the moment.” She had an apology in her voice.

“Yes Professor,” Peter relinquished, looking sorry.

“Thank you, Mr. Pettigrew,” Urquart said.

Peter nodded and Professor Urquart closed the door.

Inside the room, he returned to Minerva’s side. She was clutching the blue china tea cup - James Potter’s reparoed tea cup, which still bore a crack on the lip on the far side, a piece that had chipped away from a fall she did not remember it having taken… She sighed when Peter had left and returned to her pacing.

“Min…” Elphinstone said gently, “It’ll be alright. Albus will get to the bottom of it.”

She couldn’t still herself though, and eventually he simply sighed and waited quietly, just as nervous, for word from the rest of the Order on what to do.




Peter, however, was done waiting.

He went to the dormitory and he threw himself onto his belly and pulled his book bag out from under his bed. Without much show of it, he upturned it over the bed so that the books fell out and a couple even spilled onto the floor, and he started gathering supplies. He emptied the rest of the chocolate bars from the hollow book into the bag and a couple sweaters, and he put a couple bottles of pumpkin juice in as well. Then he gingerly scooped up his velvet bag of crystals from the bed and he hesitated in the doorway, trying to think if there was anything else he should bring, and finally decided he’d packed at least the things he’d need… and he inched out of the dorms, through the common room, and down the castle stairs. He hesitated slightly at the door, but nobody had cared yet - why start now? And he ducked out the door.

Nobody paid Peter any mind.



For once, he was okay with that.

Peter scrambled over the grounds, his trainers crunching snow, his breath showing before him, and he got to the edge of the Whomping Willow’s reach, hitched his bag closer ‘round his torso, and transformed into a rat. He squeaked as he hit the cold snow, his little rat paws not used to the feeling, and then he ran across it, hopping up and down through gulleys in the snow ,carved by wind and the whomping of the willow’s branches until he reached the knot, which he pressed with his tiny paws and the willow stilled and the trapdoor opened up and he threw himself inside.

He hit the dirt as he transformed back into a boy and he rolled over in the dirt as the hole above him closed and he waved his wand. “Lumos,” he said, voice trembling, as though it were a question.

It was the bravest and stupidest thing Peter Pettigrew had ever done in his life.

But if what the stones had told him was true, he couldn’t just sit about at Hogwarts as James Potter was mercilessly tortured - and nearly killed - by the Dark Lord.

He just couldn’t.

And so he ran through the tunnel, trembling in his own fear, but strong in his admiration for James.

“I’ll save you James,” he whispered. “I will. Somehow.”




Voldemort ram his hands over Severus Snape’s shoulders gently as he walked behind him, and he smiled when he felt Severus Snape’s muscles tense through his shoulders. “Are you nervous to see me again for some reason… Severus?” the Dark Lord’s voice was low and cold and raspy.

“Nervous, my Lord?” Severus asked, trying to keep his voice level.

Voldemort replied, “Your muscles clench to my touch like the guilty often do.”

Severus stared straight ahead.

“You have disappointed me, Severus.” When Snape did not reply, Voldemort hissed, “Answer me, Severus.”

Severus’s voice shook. “Yes, my Lord.”

Voldemort’s asked, “And what do we do to those who disappoint me?”

Severus closed his eyes. “Punish them, my Lord.”

Voldemort smiled slowly. “Yes, Severus. That is right.” He paused before Severus. “We punish them.” He smiled. Then he looked up. “Bring me the boggart,.”

A boggart wouldn’t be hard to deal with, Severus thought. A boggart was practically merciful comapared to the torture that he’d expected. He tried to keep from exuding any relief. He recalled his boggart from third year - an apparition of his father - and how easily he had used riddikulus to defeat him…

Voldemort watched as Avery entered the dark room, carrying a small, shaking box, and put it down upon the floor before Severus Snape.

The Dark Lord held out his hand. “Your wand, Severus.”

Severus looked up, surprised, and slowly withdrew his wand, placing it into the Dark Lord’s palm.

Voldemort smiled. “Very well. I should think some time spent alone here in fear shall cure you of your desire to go against me again.”

“Yes, my Lord,” whispered Severus.

Voldemort smiled and he went to the door of the room, Avery following, hurrying past and into the corridor beyond. Voldemort turned back, waved his wand for the box to open to release the boggart, and he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Severus had his eyes closed.

“Sev?”

He opened his eyes in surprrise.

Standing before him was not his father, as he expected. It was Lily Evans, and she wore a concerned expression upon her face.

His heart rate doubled. “What are you doing here, Lil?” he demanded, afraid for her. He stood up, looking to the door of the room, “Lil, you can’t be here. He’ll come back, he’ll kill you, he’ll --”

“I’ve come to save JAmes,” she answered.

“How did you get here?”

She didn’t reply.

“Lily?”

“I love him, Severus,” she said.

The words chilled him to his very bones.

“I’ve loved him all along. He’s just so… handsome… and smart… and he’s funny. He tells me the best jokes about you, Severus. About your greasy hair and your ugly nose.” She laughed. Her voice and laughter were still musical to his ear, even we the words they spoke wrenched his gut into a knot so tight it felt like his intestines would turn inside out. “He has soft, wonderful hair, Severus… I love to run my fingers through it. And when he kisses me, his mouth is soft and warm…” she smiled.

Severus shivered, “You - you still shouldn’t be here…”

“I’m in love with James Potter, Severus. I love him more than I love you, more than I have ever loved you. More than I could ever love you.”

She moved then, her footsteps echoing as she walked around hiim… and his eyes landed upon the open, empty box the boggart had come from.

Lily Evans was his boggart.

Lily Evans in love with James Potter was his greatest fear.

Severus closed his eyes.

“Let me list the ways that James Potter is better than you, Severus, why you could never be as good as James Potter… why I love him so much, why I will never love you…”




Peter sneezed as he pushed through the trapdoor in the floor of the Shrieking Shack, the dust catching his nose, and he struggled to pull himself through, crawling his way in and slamming the door shut behind him, his fist wrapped about his wand.

It had taken so long that daylight was fading out the window as he scurried across to the window to look out through the gap in the wood shutters. He could just barely see the spires of the castle over the Forbidden Forest outside and he shivered at how far away he was, all by himself.

He tucked his wand into his wand pocket, then reached into his reguluar pocket and with drew it - the carefully folded bit of parchment that the mysterious man - who had turned out to be Professor Gaunt, who had turned out to be Voldemort - had given him on his birthday way back in August.

...open that parchment, and speak that spell… and you’ll be given the proper attention that a good boy like you deserves…” the words echoed in Peter’s head as he stared at the parchment. His hands shook.

He unfolded the parchment.

A chill moved through the shack and Peter shivered and looked around, nervous.

His eyes moved down to the parchment.

His mouth was suddenly quite dry indeed.

He shivered again.

This is for James, he thought. Its to save James from being tortured.

He still felt rather sick.

But then a voice inside his head….

”I knew you had it in ya, Pete

The voice was James.

“I do, James, I do. I do have it in me to be brave. I do!” he whispered and he cleared his throat as he looked down at the parchment… and the words of the spell flowed off his tongue.