Darkness Falls

Darkness Falls

"Our Lord wishes to see you."

The masked man gave a curt nod and moved silently into the shadows. A slight creak of the door closing was all that told Peter he was now alone. He stood up. Our Lord wishes to see you. In Peter's opinion, those were never good words to hear.

In his first years of service, Peter had learned to expect nothing so much as silence when the Dark Lord was near. No one, not even the most loyal, most obedient, most renowned dared speak out of turn. And, where the Dark Lord was concerned, any speech not directly solicited by His Lordship was considered to be out of turn. The occasional screams of punishment from those who had failed or disobeyed were the only things to ever break the silence.

For Peter, the silence that had once been customary now grated on his nerves. More than a decade of life with a family of seven energetic children - seven Gryffindors- had broken him of his tolerance for all things quiet.

Though he wished for it, Peter did not dare make any noise as he walked along the corridors so dark and so full of shadows they made the room he had just inhabited seem bright. In the lair of the Dark Lord, even heavy footfalls could be cause for punishment.

Two more masked men were guarding the door of the Dark Lord's private chambers. Peter couldn't be sure if either had been the man to summon him, but he felt it unlikely. A few more curt nods between them, the doors were opened, and he was bowed in.

"Ah, Peter, do come in."

The words were spoken in a friendly tone of voice, but as they came from the Dark Lord himself, Peter knew full well they were nothing short of a direct order. He stepped into the room. It, like the rest of the hideaway, was engulfed in shadows, but what could be seen by the flickering candlelight was decorated lavishly in resplendent green upholstery. Tapestries hung from the walls, bearing the insignia of the house of Slytherin.

The Dark Lord was not alone. It was the first thing Peter noticed, and it would have been hard to miss, for Bellatrix Lestrange was standing dead center in the room. Peter put all his energy into maintaining a straight face, for while he had never liked her, she had always been and would likely always be a favorite of the Dark Lord's. To show disloyalty to one of His Lordship's favorites was nearly as bad as showing disloyalty to the Dark Lord himself.

"My Lord."

Peter dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He could feel Bellatrix drawing nearer to him and then, all at once, she was beside him. She took hold of his hair and pulled his head up. Knowing his place, Peter struggled against her just enough to keep his eyes from coming anywhere near the Dark Lord's. The Dark Lord, he could see, was smirking at him. Such an expression was never good to see.

"You remember, I believe, Bella's cousin? Sirius Black."

"My Lord."

Peter bowed his head again, this time to show humble agreement. From beside him, he heard Bellatrix begin to laugh, but she stopped short. Though he couldn't see it, Peter could well imagine the look the Dark Lord was giving her.

"He was once your friend, I believe."

"Yes, my Lord."

Peter didn't dare look up. He was afraid he knew where this was going, for Sirius had long been high on the Dark Lord's list of targets, and the Dark Lord was ever so fond of his enemies being killed by their former friends. But before Peter had the chance to truly begin to worry, the subject was changed.

"Our plans at the Ministry of Magic went awry."

"My Lord?"

This time it was a question. Peter's eyes darted momentarily upward, but turned quickly back to his feet at the sight of the Dark Lord's murderous glare. Peter felt Bellatrix's fingers tapping a pattern on his head. He hadn't realized until that moment that her hand was still there.

"The prophecy was destroyed. No matter. There are other ways of learning what I must know."

"Yes, my Lord."

"It was not a complete disaster, however."

The Dark Lord's voice was sharp and venomous. It was almost a hissing sound, and Peter could tell that Parseltongue would be easy for him to speak, though he had never heard him do so. Suddenly, the Dark Lord rose from his chair. Peter shuddered as he drew closer.

"It wasn't, my Lord?"

"No, Peter. No, one of our most potentially harmful foes was disposed of. Not a disaster at all."

Again Bellatrix laughed. Peter thought it was the most horrible sound he had ever heard because, when the Dark Lord did not compel her immediately to stop, he knew. He knew, without having been told, just who that foe was. It had not been for nothing, he realized now, and should have realized from the start, that this conversation began with the mention of Sirius Black.

As he thought the name, the image of an eleven-year-old boy popped into Peter's head. He hardly noticed that Bellatrix's hand had left his head, and her wracking laughter barely penetrated his mind, as he saw laughing blue eyes and shaggy black hair. And just as suddenly as the image had appeared, there was a voice.

Oh, you won't be in Slytherin. You're too nice.

Peter screwed his eyes shut and tried to force the memory from his mind. It was to no avail, however. He could almost hear the Hogwarts Express thudding along as he was bombarded with the memory of the first time someone had shown confidence in him, the first time he felt he had a friend. It was funny, he realized. Those were the same things he had joined the service for. That and to save his life.

He had had confidence that day, at that moment, but he did not now. Bellatrix's laughter penetrated his brain as the young Sirius Black faded away. Peter was immensely glad he was already kneeling, because he wasn't sure his legs could have supported him.

"Dear me, Peter, it does not do to dwell on the past. One might think you were still fond of the fool."

Peter wrenched his eyes open and glanced upwards. He found himself staring down the Dark Lord's wand. Bellatrix was still laughing beside him; God, how he hated her. But that didn't seem to matter now.

"Crucio."

Darkness fell around him. All he knew was pain.

The End.