ᴅɪsᴘᴇʟ ᴍʏ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ | ᴍᴀʀᴀᴅᴇᴜʀs' ᴇʀᴀ

Chapter 35: The Trap for Potions Master

Hogwarts hallways

Last couple of weeks Peter avoided Marauders. Sirius and James, busy with their love affairs, didn't pay much attention to Pettigrew, but Remus followed a different line of behavior. Apparently, Moony wanted to distract himself from what had happened to him and Parker in the Hospital Wing, so he chose a personal victim. Around three times he tactfully tried to ask Peter about what was happening, approaching the issue in totally unknown ways.

Peter couldn't answer. Dumbledore told him bluntly to accept the offer of the Lord. It turned out very convenient: it seemed like the headmaster called Pettigrew for a personal conversation about AB, but in fact they talked in detail about the role of double spy, as well as about pros and cons of this profession.

According to Pettigrew, the correlation of pros to cons was as thousand to zero. According to Dumbledore, human life in the approaching war was valued approximately like the very number of cons, that is, it had no value at all.

Pettigrew was amazed at the change that had taken place with the old wizard. If earlier he had talked to him, offering lemon slices, ginger biscuits and mint candies, now all this vanilla shit was finally over. Dumbledore was serious, calm and completely dispassionate.

He said, "You can be killed, Mr. Pettigrew, or worse, tortured," but his face remained impassive and his eyes showed business confidence. Pureblood wizards tell their house elves to burn their hands with an iron as a punishment like that; it's cruel but, from their point of view, justified.

On the other hand, the headmaster at least stopped pretending. Peter didn't need meaningless consolations and words that everything would be all right. It wouldn't be all right anymore. At least not for Peter.

Pettigrew perfectly imagined his perspectives. Working as a double spy is a suicidal mission. Of course, Peter could refuse. His mother was under protection of the headmaster, his friends were under protection of the school, but... what kind of Gryffindor he is then, if he escapes with his tail tucked at the first sign of danger.

"Have you thought carefully, Mr. Pettigrew?" Dumbledore asked as if it was a question of hiring. Well, it was, sort of.

"Yes. I won't give up," Peter shook his head.

"Do you realize the risks?"

Nod.

"Perfect."

After that, Peter left the office with a pale lifeless face, but no one had any thoughts about the true cause of it. Everyone thought that Pettigrew got a detention.

"Hey, Peter!" someone whispered to him from around the corner, and it turned out to be Avery.

"Yes?" Peter answered quietly, hopelessly.

"Need to talk," the Slytherin smiled, and his snow-white teeth were imprinted into the Gryffindor's memory. Later, he recalled them whenever he tried to understand exactly where his fall began. It began with these teeth ─ disgusting, fake white, terrible teeth, frozen in the middle of a false smile, wriggling like a snake across Avery's face.

"Coming," Peter sighed and, glancing around, followed the Slytherin.

✨ ✨ ✨

Gryffindor common room

"So," Fabian Prewett sank into the couch next to Lily and stared at her with cunning eyes. "What do we have on agenda?"

James looked around in awe, the common room was filled with people. Many heard about the Order of the Phoenix, despite the strict prohibition of discussing this topic, and everyone wanted to help. James, as always, was an unofficial leader.