Then the Hammer Falls

Then the Hammer Falls:

Prologue:

I stare at him. What the Hell?

In all honesty, I had actually believed that Dumbledore had developed a sick sense of humour over the years, and this was all a big (although sick) joke. I desperately wanted to prove that this was all just a joke, to find out what had really happened. Sadly, Dumbledore still isn't a joker.

I think that, subconsciously, I knew that he wasn't lying. After all, I'd been kept away from prying eyes and the very few people who were let into the secret had looked at me and seemed either haunted or murderous. I don't know which one is worse!

But no, my worst fears have been confirmed. I know who this guy is, I know that he betrayed his friends, and with that almost hungry look in his eyes, he didn't even seem to feel any remorse.

That sounds bad enough, right? A person betraying their friends, when you know all of them. The friends. The person...

It's worse when the one who betrayed them is you.

Why, I want to scream, why did you do it? I don't think anybody would tell me, though. Maybe nobody knows. Looking at him - me - now, I can tell that penetrating the mind would not be the most pleasant thing. Who knows what I'm thinking? I think I - he - Wormtail - looks quite insane, and aren't you supposed to be biased in a good way towards yourself? What must other people see? A maniacal murderer? A troubled traitor?

None of this makes any sense.

I find myself, for the first time, doubting that doing this was the best idea. Wormtail - I'm going to continue calling him that now; better that than my name, I suppose - must recognize me. He looks like he does. He looks twisted, but he also looks confused. I'm almost amazed to see another emotion on his face, one that doesn't look murderous.

The best thing about this is how different Wormtail looks. You could never mistake him for my mirror image, and I never want to be connected to this man. Unfortunately, I can't change that.

He leans towards me and grins an odd grin. "Of all the people I thought I'd ever see," he says, "I never thought that you'd be one of them."

Yeah, I want to say, I never thought I'd travel forward in time and see myself in the future. And even if I did, I'd never dream of doing this!

This is a whole new definition of self-loathing, not to mention fear of oneself. Yes, I look at Wormtail, and I'm scared. It's odd, considering the fact that he's me, but you'd be foolish not to fear Death Eaters. And, well, I'm still somewhere back at the point where I found out that I was a Death Eater, and decided to assist in offing one of my best friends.

He doesn't look pleased with my not answering him, so I speak, cursing my voice that sounds as squeaky as a rat's. "I hate you." It's a simple sentence, but it sums up just about everything.

Wormtail laughs. "You can't hate me. I'm you." I want to scowl at him and tell him, yes, I can. I've just told you that I hate you, but he hasn't finished. He says something, which, although I've registered that he's me, seems to have never crossed my mind. "And one day, this is exactly what you'll be like and what you'll have done."

I am stunned. He takes this moment to grab something - a portkey - and gets the Hell out of here. I'm left alone.

I lean against the wall, and let out a deep breath. One day, this is exactly what you'll be like and what you'll have done. It echoes through my head, and I treat it almost like it's a death sentence, and it is, really. If that ever comes true, it'll be the death of good old Peter Pettigrew, and the birth of Wormtail.

The name Wormtail makes me sick now. I'll have to take some time to tell the others to get me a new nickname later, because now it seems like poison.

I consider his words, and give a small, frustrated sigh. I never want to end up like that, and quite frankly, I don't want him to be walking around, proud of all of his traitorous actions. I had failed at my lovely attempt just now to get him to talk, more because I'd been too shocked and scared than anything.

I'd learned enough, though. I'd learnt more than I wanted to know. I decide to get rid of the plan to talk to him, because, however horrible the concept is, I know what I must do to prove that I am not that guy.

I'll get rid of the enemy - it's something that he'd never do, perhaps because he's oblivious of that enemy.

It's understandable really, when your worst enemy is yourself.