Tested In Fire

Author's Note: Enter the twisted mind of Peter Pettigrew. My beta pointed out that this scene was "not enjoyable to read", and I have to agree with her. It was even worse to write. This particular chapter is for Risa, because she's the inspiration for a number of characters; plus she sits in on my whine sessions.

On a light note, I encourage those of you who are reading this carefully to join my Yahoo! Discussion group, located here: Tested In Fire Fans. We'd love to have you!

Tested In Fire Chapter 13: Ties That Bind the Heart No Mortal Shall Break

Peter sat in his corner of his room. It was the only part of the space he felt was really his. It was only in this place that he could talk without anyone making fun of him. Over the summer, with Voldemort wanting more and more from his servant, and demanding more sacrifices on the part of all the Death Eaters, he had found himself slipping slowly into a pool that seemed bottomless to him. To anyone who asked, he would deny outright that he was insane, but privately, he wondered. Voldemort, with the excuse of wanting to become more powerful, was slowly draining Peter's power from him, and a number of other Death Eaters who were considered "weak". Peter had been reassured that this was all to the good, and that since he was nearly powerless anyway, it wouldn't affect him. Now he found himself stranded, lost without his rock of magic, what little there had to begin with, to hang on to as he had in the past. Rocking back and forth to the rhythm of his self-pitying sobs, he began to talk to himself in different voices.

"Wormtail, Wormtail. You've betrayed me again," the voice of a young James Potter said to him.

"No, no, James! I tried to save Harry, you know I did!"

"He's not dead yet, no thanks to you."

"But it is thanks to me! I've tried so hard, but my Master... he won't let me..."

"I know all about your Master. The one you sold me out for. You were no better than Severus was, Peter. I don't know what I was thinking, letting you in the Marauders."

"You loved me! Lily loved me!"

"Lily never loved you, worm. In fact, you and your advances disgusted her. There is a reason why your Animagus form was a rat, you know."

"No, James, no! I loved Lily!"

"Lily was, and is, mine. Forever. We died together, died trying to save our son. You can't take away that bond, Peter Pettigrew."

"Harry could make it through this if he would just..."

"Just what, Peter? Forget about his destiny? He's a Potter, of my own flesh and blood. You can't make him deny his heritage."

"But I can, James. Oh, I can. You always thought you were so clever, but you weren't. I was the brainy one, and I've worked out a way."

"Don't lie, Peter. The plan you've devised will never work. It will only make Harry more determined than ever."

Peter turned away, but he could not escape the image and voice of the man who was once his best friend.

"Have you ever thought of what you're doing to Sirius and Remus, Peter? The moves you made over the summer encouraged them rather than discouraged them. Hogwarts is that much safer with those two there. My two true friends are at Hogwarts, Peter, protecting my son. I wouldn't have it any other way. Just you try to get through them, Peter. You know what happened the last time!"

"James, help me, please! I don't want to work for Voldemort."

"You made your decision, long ago. You abandoned me. I owe you nothing."

With that, the ghostly outline of James disappeared, and was replaced by the softer image of a woman with long red hair and green eyes.

"Peter, Peter, Peter. What have you gone and done this time?" Her voice was sympathetic, but it had an edge to it that had Peter edging back into his corner.

"I've done nothing."

"Nothing, is it? You're personally responsible for the murder of hundreds of people. You're working on a plan to kill off the remaining Marauders, the only ones at Hogwarts who cared about you, and that's nothing?" Her voice had reached a peak, and she was practically yowling.

"No, no. They weren't the only ones who cared for me. They never cared for me at all, really. The only person who cares for me is Voldemort."

"Voldemort cares for no one but himself, and you know that better than anyone. Don't you think it's time these wounds were avenged, Peter? It's time you and Remus and Sirius confronted each other."

"No, they'll kill me!"

"Wormtail." The harsh voice of Severus Snape was enough to snap him back to reality.

"Snape." He rose in a fluid motion, all signs of his dementia hidden from his face. Scanning Snape's face quickly to determine what all he had seen, he concluded that the Professor had noticed nothing unusual. He couldn't have been more wrong. "What do you want?"

"Lord Voldemort wants to see you. Now. Your plan is underway."

**

At Hogwarts, everyone from the third years on up were awaiting the first Hogsmeade weekend, which was falling early this year due to suspected Death Eater attacks if Hogwarts maintained any sort of schedule from year to year, with barely contained excitement. Third years were told lies about the dangers of the Shrieking Shack, which Harry, Ron and Hermione knew was decidedly not haunted and harmless to all who entered its doors, regardless of what their intent was. Fourth years reminisced about their first trips to the pretty village while fifth years simply couldn't wait to restock their sweet supplies at Zonko's, or to buy a bottle of Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

Lessons passed quickly, and soon the day arrived that was to change the lives of Harry, Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys forever.

The trip started off innocently enough with a trip to Zonko's.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Hermione asked once they were inside the store. Ron had begun to point randomly at sugar quills, muttering a rhyme underneath of his breath.

"Making a decision."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. Don't you have a favorite?"

"Of course I have a favorite. What do you take me for? My only concern is whether or not I'd get sick of them if I bought to many, so I like to spread my money around."

"Why don't you spend this much time thinking about your homework?" Hermione demanded.

"Well," Ron said and stroked his upper lip thoughtfully, "there's homework, and then there's food. At this point in time, food is, by far, more important."

Ginny and Hermione shared an exasperated sigh, but Harry nodded his agreement.

"Besides," Ron continued as he inspected the feathers on a strawberry-cheesecake flavored quill, "it's the weekend. It's my policy never to think about homework on the weekend."

"You don't think about homework ever," Hermione shot back.

"I do too. I just don't spend hours agonizing over it."

As the fight grew more intense, Ginny and Harry moved to another section of the store.

"You know," Ginny said, amusement coloring her voice, "their fighting has got worse since they made their relationship official."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, but now they can kiss and make up."

Ginny grinned. "Maybe they fight just so they can make up."

Harry turned quickly and caught the mischievous glint in Ginny's eyes. "Was that an insinuation, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows at the raised pitch of his voice and made the connection. He was imitating a teacher. "Well, Mr. Potter," she drawled, "insinuate this..."

She was about to touch her lips with his when there was a sharp hacking sound from behind them.

"Get a room," Ron managed.

"That sounds familiar," Harry muttered under his breath, but denied he had said anything when the taller Weasley boy questioned him.

"Come on, let's go," Hermione's voice broke through their quiet debate. "I have a huge craving for a Butterbeer."

"The real thing, not that Light stuff that Lavender and Patil are," Ginny agreed, and the two girls linked arms, much like little children who had recently discovered their best friend. As they set off at a brisk pace, they fell to discussing the absurdness of the diet fad that was sweeping through the wizarding world.

The Three Broomsticks was loud on this particular afternoon as most of the Hogwarts students piled in to refresh themselves after an hour of shopping. When Harry and Ron entered through the door, the girls had already seated themselves and were chatting away happily. They had, however, paused briefly in the conversation to pull over two chairs so that the boys could seat themselves.

"So, Harry, who do you think will make Quidditch captain this year?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. They're supposed to have it posted in the Common Room this evening when we get back. All of last year's seventh years that I talked to wouldn't say a word."

"Fred and George wouldn't tell me a thing. Of course, everyone thinks you're going to get it." There was a slight lull until a Madam Rosmerta came over to their table. "We'll have four Butterbeers, please," Ron said and followed her appreciatively with his eyes until she disappeared behind the counter. Hermione, noticing this, gave him a gentle reminder kick underneath the table. When he looked up, she was smiling sweetly. "Would you take the Captain position?" he asked, trying to nonchalantly rub his shin. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite pull it off as he kept wincing whenever he made contact with the tender area.

"I dunno," Harry said after a moment. "I think I would. Imagine that."

"It hasn't ever occurred to you before, has it?" Ron asked, shaking his head. "Blimey, Harry."

"It's a little bit difficult to think beyond today, for some reason," Harry responded.

Ron nodded. They both understood what he was talking about, and no further words were exchanged.

Harry found himself lost, wondering if his father's friends were comfortable like this, wondering where his father's so-called friend Peter Pettigrew was right now, wondering if Remus and Anna had finally accepted each other.

"Harry," Ginny whispered fiercely to him. "Come back to us. I don't know where you've gone, but we'd like to have your opinion on something."

Harry snapped back. "Sorry," he stammered, embarrassed. "What did I miss?"

Apparently the conversation had turned, as did so often in their conversations now, to talk of the prophecy that seemed to be ruling their lives and loves.

"What bothers me," Hermione said, "is why we can't even find that half of the other prophecy that Professor Trelawney claimed to have saved."

Harry shook his head. "I'd feel much better if we knew that this was really a true prophecy."

"Well, Anna was the first Seer, so we have to assume that at least that much is true," Hermione said.

"Right, but most of that prophecy has already been fulfilled. Obviously Anna has seen the second prophecy, but why can't she remember it?" Ginny asked. "Also, what did James and Lily know that they weren't sharing with their closest friends? They had to have known something."

"We've been over all of this already," Ron objected. "We need to work on actions, not just talking."

"What are we going to do about it? Arrest Professor Trelawney and demand that she tell us where the second part is located?" Hermione replied sarcastically. "Honestly, until we find out something new, there's not much that we can do."

"The second prophecy has landed in the hands of the Evil One."

Harry, Ron and Hermione turned to look in bewilderment at Ginny, who was speaking in a voice most unlike her own.

"The stag's son must search in places very close

for something that the flower wrote-

Night is falling on the world, my friends,

Darkness encompassing all your might-have-beens,

Be alert, be true to thyself,

One of your number is soon to vanish.

A traitor among our midst, there is.

Trust no one, trust only in love.

For what love binds, no mortal can break,

Love is the power that is at stake,

Love behinds two of lion-hearts,

As it has in the past, as will in times unknown.

Tomes may guide the clever and wise,

Loyalty those with a bit of spine,

Ambition guides those with eyes set high,

But love is the courage that knows no bounds-not even the sky.

Time will tell who the victor is, but those with loyalty, ambition and love

Should soar above, like the dove.

The Dark Lord knows not of two, of one he understands,

But even those restricted to labels can break their bands."

Ginny gave a shudder and shook her head, as if to clear of cobwebs and dust. "What happened?"

Hermione leaned forward and rested her head on her folded hands. "You have just given us the clues that will help us solve the first part of our mystery, that's what happened."

Ginny sat back wearily. "Oh."

Harry rubbed his eyes. "Did you catch all of that, Hermione?"

Grinning, Hermione nodded. "Every word."

Ron pulled it over to inspect it. "It doesn't sound like a happy prophecy to me."

"Voldemort has the second prophecy," Harry said, disgusted, and slouched back against the frame of his chair.

"That doesn't matter. Apparently your mother had another copy, Harry."

"What?"

"Well, isn't it obvious? 'The stag's son must search in places very close

for something that the flower wrote...' That means your mum must have made another copy, or even better yet, had the meaning of it worked out and written down."

"Yes, but where to begin looking?"

"That, I don't know. You'll have to ask Sirius or Remus or Anna."

"I'm sure they'd know, Harry," Ron agreed excitedly, "then maybe you can get this prophecy mess out of the way and Voldemort will be defeated."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy."

"Doesn't seem to you like the other two prophesies point to the second prophecy as the key to defeating the Dark Lord?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "It seems that way."

A wild look entered Ginny's eye. "Oh no," she groaned in her slightly fey voice.

Just then there was a loud explosion that racked the entire building. Tables flew over, bodies jumped out of the way and a large smoke fog covered the ground and permeated the air.

Harry, Ginny and Hermione made it out quickly, following the crowd of panicked witches and wizards who were trying to leave the hot and burning building quickly.

Looking around desperately, Hermione asked, with panic in her eyes, "Where's Ron?"