The Marauders: Year Four

The Pawn

"I know what you think of me, Peter, and what your friends think of me, and what a good deal of the students at Hogwarts think of me. But I assure you I am not as evil a man as you may believe me to be." He leaned back into the chair - it creaked. "Some may even say that I was a good man once. But things have changed. Dark things. They continue to change... I'm an old man, Peter. I've seen a lot of things..." he chuckled. "Well. Blind from birth, I suppose I haven't seen anything at all, really, but I have a gift, my boy, a gift that allows me to see without seeing... Mopsus sees all." A wavering, elderly sort of smile crossed the man's face. "I've been a fool," he muttered, "And I've been a hero. And I've been a saint. And I've been the devil's advocate. And I've even been the devil himself..."

Mopsus stood, walking to the fireplace and running his palm along the stone, feeling the bumps of the brick. "Incendio," he said, lighting the logs in the hearth. He returned to his seat and folded his hands over the cane once again.

"Peter, it was never meant to be you."

Peter stared straight ahead, no ability to do otherwise.

"In fact, it may never be you. You're a pawn in a game, I'm afraid, a pawn in a game I am playing against the Fates themselves. You would never be here today if I hadn't taken the post at Hogwarts and for that I apologize. I tried to talk Dumbledore out of it, tried to tell him that the soul of a boy would be on the line, but he didn't listen to me...

"I'm afraid Albus has never been very good at listening..." Mopsus shook his head, continuing. "Even as a boy, I told Albus many times that he needed to slow down and listen more, and pay attention to the fine detail, to never underestimate those who the world underestimates. It'll get him in trouble, lives will be lost because of it. Too keen on protecting, that's his biggest mistake. He'll protect a boy with a ferocity one day so great that he will fail to be honest to the boy when he should, and the cost will be the life of an innocent man... falling through the veil." Mopsus was quiet a long moment, respecting the image of life lost. "Mopsus sees all."

"I, too, protect, Peter, you understand. I see with the inner eye and I know. I know that the Dark Lord needs to be distracted. Tunnel vision will allow the truth to remain hidden as his obsession grows... Will allow the Chosen One to be born... If the Dark Lord knew the truth, Peter, then -- oh how differently things would turn out! The blood that would be shed!" Mopsus shook his head. "You're a necessary piece in my game of chess, you see. But I am sorry that you are a pawn. I am sorry that I had to take you here. I am sorry for what will become of you because of this night. Because of my choice. Because of my protection... my allegiance to the Chosen One... But I have said too much."

Silence fell over them.

Suddenly the door of the parlor banged open and there was the Dark Lord, his eyes red and glowing dangerously as he moved toward Peter.

Voldemort walked carefully around Peter, staring at him. "I've wanted you here for some time now, Mr. Pettigrew," he murmured as he hovered, his voice low and high at exactly the same time in that strange, rasping way that he had. His bone-white wand hovered from long-nailed fingers that grasped the handle of it delicately. "Over a year I have waited... patiently... for your arrival. I've watched my followers fail time and again to collect you for me." He leaned close, "You see there's been a prophecy and it involves you... and I." His mouth was nearly on Peter's ear as he hissed the words. But Peter had no control to flinch away, his face showed no emotion his eyes didn't so much as blink.

The Dark Lord cackled quietly and stood upright.

"Did I ever expect such a prophecy would be made about someone as... useless... and pathetic... as lowly... and unwanted... as you?" he hissed, turning and leaning close again, on the opposite side of Peter's face, his fingers clasping the boy's shoulders, his wand crossing over Peter's chest in the process. "Not even your friends want you, Peter, so why should I? Why should anyone?"