FIC: Bullied, Snape/Peter, R
Title: Bullied
Author: charlotteschaos
Pairing: Snape, Peter
Rating: R
Genre: Non-Sexual
Length: 1633
Beta: petalla
Prompt: Bully
Summary: Bully or be bullied; a perspective on how Peter became a Death Eater.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own.
Through the din of hurled insults and catcalls that echoed in the corridor of the night-drab castle, Severus was able to focus on his direct tormenters. His robes flew open and he felt the chill of magic, painting a giant V on his chest from nipple to nipple. It made him shiver in spite of himself.
As much as he wanted to hex back, James had already summoned his wand and Sirius showed no inclination to let him out of the freezing hold his enchantment held on him. Cheers and jeers. Remus hanging back, pretending not to watch and Peter standing just behind the duo, beady eyes rat-like and fiendish, his hands wrapping around one another in vicious anticipation of the next misery to be suffered upon Severus.
So he stood, focused glaring upon Sirius, who was mocking and calling out about how Snivellus was a virgin and would always be a virgin. The crowd laughed; insincere teenaged mockery from a group of children who likely bore the same juvenile affliction. Even if he weren't gangly and greasy with sunken chest and face red with irritated skin, he would have none of them. He'd rather die a virgin than suffer any of these fools to touch him. Ever.
"You seem terribly interested in stripping me down each time we meet, Black. Perhaps you'd like to do the honors?" Severus knew it was imprudent, but there was only so much worse this could get before someone was sent to Azkaban. He could just picture Sirius rotting away in there and it brought a sardonic smile to his face.
"Like that, wouldn't you?" Sirius appeared somewhere between horrified and called out, like his homosexual urges were laid bare and he couldn't quite fathom how to shuffle them back into the closet.
Just as Severus suspected, yet he took no pleasure in the revelation. In fact, it made his stomach turn.
"Pete, you show him!" said James as he shoved the surprised butterball forward.
All of the sullen glee that had manifested in Peter's observance of another's humiliation dissolved into panic as Peter readied his wand and pointed it at Severus.
Severus tilted his chin up, defiant at the degradation. They could try, yes, and likely succeed at making him appear and idiot, but Severus wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry again. Never again. It drove them mad and to even more exorbitant public displays in an attempt to make him sob. Never again.
The hex shot from Peter's wand and a golden spiraled horn sprouted from Severus's forehead. He looked up at it in near-puzzlement, but then he got it. Unicorn horn. Virgin. Right. It was almost clever, actually.
"Aww Pete, what the shite is that?" Sirius slapped the back of Peter's head, making him lurch forward and drop his wand. The crowd tittered as Peter's face blazed and screwed up into an expression of pure loathing.
James frowned at the interaction and then said gamely, "Maybe he's saying Severus is horny?"
Severus's eyes locked on Peter's. They don't get you, do they?
"Black's just disappointed that I wasn't stripped naked. His curiosity would finally have been sated," sneered Severus.
Just before the force of Sirius's hex knocked him so hard against the wall that he blacked out, Severus thought he saw Peter smile.
--
The library smelled of dust and old books, the sort of leafy must that permeated any room of higher learning. Buzzy sweet, dead knowledge. The lamps cast weird shadows on the bookcases, leaving them like leaning bats, connecting in huge wings broken by segments of desks and chairs. Students quiet with threat of Pince and lost in revisions filled out a fair few of these study islands.
Peter sat alone. Revising.
Everything was harder for him than it was for the rest of the boys. He was always studying harder and getting lesser grades. Even the Quidditch groupies passed him over in favor of sickly Lupin, and yet here Peter was, mouthing words as his finger traced along a book. He stopped to write something down then poked a chubby finger in his mouth and flipped the page.
If ever there was a weak link, if ever there was one not like the others, it was Peter Pettigrew.
Severus stepped in the way of the light, casting a long shadow over the boy and his book and noted that he was studying potions. "Asphodel is the ingredient you're looking for," he said tersely.
"Thanks." Peter didn't even look up at first, simply wrote it down. He moved on to the next question before he seemed to realize who had answered it. When he looked up, he shrank back in his seat, eyes beady and searching. "What do you want?"
That was a good question. Severus wasn't sure at all what he might want of this useless, pudgy boy. It was inconceivable that any real good could come of him. Yet, he seemed somehow cleverer than he was given credit for. Wilier. "You shouldn't let them bully you."
Peter laughed in a nervous, piggish snort. His hand moved reflexively over his mouth and his eyes scanned for someone to mock his giggle. Severus continued his unwavering stare, boring into the silence until Peter dropped his hand and said, "A fine thing for you to say to me. You're the one they bully."
"Am I really?" Severus watched him; watched Peter's confusion melt into some manner of realization. Only then did he turn and leave.
--
"Where are your friends now, Pettigrew?" Severus's face glimmered with sweat and menace as he leered over the Peter's form slumped over the table, blood-soaked and dried like an abattoir scab, liquefying in brown waste from Peter's stream of tears.
It was a question that didn't need answering. Peter's so-called friends were off living their lives, enjoying one another. James and Lily were in Brighton, Sirius tagging along. Remus was convalescing with his mum fussing over him. As always Peter left behind; always left behind now that their proximity didn't force his complicity. Forgotten. Alone.
Voldemort had instructed them to find the weak, the willing, the easily goaded and to press them into service. The war would need canon fodder and the little butterball would collect much fire. He glared down in disgust, ready to test another of his wicked spells upon his already broken body. Peter could barely move for the hexes and charms that covered him with pleasing lesions. He hadn't expected for Peter to hold out this long, but secretly he was pleased that he had.
"You... you noticed me once. You cared." Peter gave him a watery-eyed appeal, one that was met by Severus's turned back.
Facing the torchlight on the stone wall, he rolled his eyes, regretting a childish moment of weakness. In revisionist history, Severus would have called it a test of Peter's mettle; .a failed test. Peter could no more act on the truth he'd realized that day than Severus could have changed the tides of rivalry and become the fifth Marauder. He was not their friend, not a secret member of their clique, but a toy. A chew toy. But at least he knew his place.
Peter knew his place and carried on with it anyway. He was the perfect prey, the perfect spy. He just needed permission.
Pulling his head up, Severus inhaled and turned on the ball of his foot in a curt twirl, his face changed from a mask of fury to one of faux compassion. "I did. Of course I did."
"I... I was weak. I didn't... I knew you were right. I just didn't... have the power."
Such a pathetic display turned Severus's stomach, but he sat next to Peter on the long, wooden bench stained with waste. Fresh waste from Peter soiling himself. Severus's nose twitched but he denied himself the pleasure of mocking. It would not serve the Dark Lord and his revolution. Voldemort was mad and would need to be replaced soon enough, but he had a plan for that.
He set his hand upon Peter's, relishing the awkward stab of broken bone and jelly feel of his fingers. He had broken him. It whetted his appetite for the next Marauder the dynamic duo had bullied. "The Dark Lord will give you power. He will give you plans and imbue you with strength you can only imagine. You've seen what I can do all ready. Do you think Potter or Black are capable of that? Do you think they would protect you if they knew that you were up against that?"
"They..." Peter's face went slack and blank, tears rolled down his blood-stained face, tracing in new pale tracks that were quickly clouded over with another ooze of blood, so fresh Severus could taste it.
"Where are they now, Peter? Did they invite you? Did they think of you? Did they worry over you in this time where dark wizards abound and the innocent vanish from the street?" Severus leaned in, so close to the blood and tears that they leaked into his mouth. The elixir of fear was the sweetest taste that had ever passed his lips.
"No." Severus could feel the force of Peter's admittance shudder through his body with a warm tingle of release. Peter's open mouth passed balmy breath to his cheek, panting, exhausted, finished. "They don't worry about me at all."
Severus sat back and pulled the sleeve of his robe up, revealing his mark. "Your new friends, your new brethren, they will always know where you are, will always care for you, will always know how to find you."
Choking back a sob, Peter nodded and dropped his head in defeat. Sweet attrition, the final permission; Peter was his.
Author: charlotteschaos
Pairing: Snape, Peter
Rating: R
Genre: Non-Sexual
Length: 1633
Beta: petalla
Prompt: Bully
Summary: Bully or be bullied; a perspective on how Peter became a Death Eater.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own.
Through the din of hurled insults and catcalls that echoed in the corridor of the night-drab castle, Severus was able to focus on his direct tormenters. His robes flew open and he felt the chill of magic, painting a giant V on his chest from nipple to nipple. It made him shiver in spite of himself.
As much as he wanted to hex back, James had already summoned his wand and Sirius showed no inclination to let him out of the freezing hold his enchantment held on him. Cheers and jeers. Remus hanging back, pretending not to watch and Peter standing just behind the duo, beady eyes rat-like and fiendish, his hands wrapping around one another in vicious anticipation of the next misery to be suffered upon Severus.
So he stood, focused glaring upon Sirius, who was mocking and calling out about how Snivellus was a virgin and would always be a virgin. The crowd laughed; insincere teenaged mockery from a group of children who likely bore the same juvenile affliction. Even if he weren't gangly and greasy with sunken chest and face red with irritated skin, he would have none of them. He'd rather die a virgin than suffer any of these fools to touch him. Ever.
"You seem terribly interested in stripping me down each time we meet, Black. Perhaps you'd like to do the honors?" Severus knew it was imprudent, but there was only so much worse this could get before someone was sent to Azkaban. He could just picture Sirius rotting away in there and it brought a sardonic smile to his face.
"Like that, wouldn't you?" Sirius appeared somewhere between horrified and called out, like his homosexual urges were laid bare and he couldn't quite fathom how to shuffle them back into the closet.
Just as Severus suspected, yet he took no pleasure in the revelation. In fact, it made his stomach turn.
"Pete, you show him!" said James as he shoved the surprised butterball forward.
All of the sullen glee that had manifested in Peter's observance of another's humiliation dissolved into panic as Peter readied his wand and pointed it at Severus.
Severus tilted his chin up, defiant at the degradation. They could try, yes, and likely succeed at making him appear and idiot, but Severus wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry again. Never again. It drove them mad and to even more exorbitant public displays in an attempt to make him sob. Never again.
The hex shot from Peter's wand and a golden spiraled horn sprouted from Severus's forehead. He looked up at it in near-puzzlement, but then he got it. Unicorn horn. Virgin. Right. It was almost clever, actually.
"Aww Pete, what the shite is that?" Sirius slapped the back of Peter's head, making him lurch forward and drop his wand. The crowd tittered as Peter's face blazed and screwed up into an expression of pure loathing.
James frowned at the interaction and then said gamely, "Maybe he's saying Severus is horny?"
Severus's eyes locked on Peter's. They don't get you, do they?
"Black's just disappointed that I wasn't stripped naked. His curiosity would finally have been sated," sneered Severus.
Just before the force of Sirius's hex knocked him so hard against the wall that he blacked out, Severus thought he saw Peter smile.
--
The library smelled of dust and old books, the sort of leafy must that permeated any room of higher learning. Buzzy sweet, dead knowledge. The lamps cast weird shadows on the bookcases, leaving them like leaning bats, connecting in huge wings broken by segments of desks and chairs. Students quiet with threat of Pince and lost in revisions filled out a fair few of these study islands.
Peter sat alone. Revising.
Everything was harder for him than it was for the rest of the boys. He was always studying harder and getting lesser grades. Even the Quidditch groupies passed him over in favor of sickly Lupin, and yet here Peter was, mouthing words as his finger traced along a book. He stopped to write something down then poked a chubby finger in his mouth and flipped the page.
If ever there was a weak link, if ever there was one not like the others, it was Peter Pettigrew.
Severus stepped in the way of the light, casting a long shadow over the boy and his book and noted that he was studying potions. "Asphodel is the ingredient you're looking for," he said tersely.
"Thanks." Peter didn't even look up at first, simply wrote it down. He moved on to the next question before he seemed to realize who had answered it. When he looked up, he shrank back in his seat, eyes beady and searching. "What do you want?"
That was a good question. Severus wasn't sure at all what he might want of this useless, pudgy boy. It was inconceivable that any real good could come of him. Yet, he seemed somehow cleverer than he was given credit for. Wilier. "You shouldn't let them bully you."
Peter laughed in a nervous, piggish snort. His hand moved reflexively over his mouth and his eyes scanned for someone to mock his giggle. Severus continued his unwavering stare, boring into the silence until Peter dropped his hand and said, "A fine thing for you to say to me. You're the one they bully."
"Am I really?" Severus watched him; watched Peter's confusion melt into some manner of realization. Only then did he turn and leave.
--
"Where are your friends now, Pettigrew?" Severus's face glimmered with sweat and menace as he leered over the Peter's form slumped over the table, blood-soaked and dried like an abattoir scab, liquefying in brown waste from Peter's stream of tears.
It was a question that didn't need answering. Peter's so-called friends were off living their lives, enjoying one another. James and Lily were in Brighton, Sirius tagging along. Remus was convalescing with his mum fussing over him. As always Peter left behind; always left behind now that their proximity didn't force his complicity. Forgotten. Alone.
Voldemort had instructed them to find the weak, the willing, the easily goaded and to press them into service. The war would need canon fodder and the little butterball would collect much fire. He glared down in disgust, ready to test another of his wicked spells upon his already broken body. Peter could barely move for the hexes and charms that covered him with pleasing lesions. He hadn't expected for Peter to hold out this long, but secretly he was pleased that he had.
"You... you noticed me once. You cared." Peter gave him a watery-eyed appeal, one that was met by Severus's turned back.
Facing the torchlight on the stone wall, he rolled his eyes, regretting a childish moment of weakness. In revisionist history, Severus would have called it a test of Peter's mettle; .a failed test. Peter could no more act on the truth he'd realized that day than Severus could have changed the tides of rivalry and become the fifth Marauder. He was not their friend, not a secret member of their clique, but a toy. A chew toy. But at least he knew his place.
Peter knew his place and carried on with it anyway. He was the perfect prey, the perfect spy. He just needed permission.
Pulling his head up, Severus inhaled and turned on the ball of his foot in a curt twirl, his face changed from a mask of fury to one of faux compassion. "I did. Of course I did."
"I... I was weak. I didn't... I knew you were right. I just didn't... have the power."
Such a pathetic display turned Severus's stomach, but he sat next to Peter on the long, wooden bench stained with waste. Fresh waste from Peter soiling himself. Severus's nose twitched but he denied himself the pleasure of mocking. It would not serve the Dark Lord and his revolution. Voldemort was mad and would need to be replaced soon enough, but he had a plan for that.
He set his hand upon Peter's, relishing the awkward stab of broken bone and jelly feel of his fingers. He had broken him. It whetted his appetite for the next Marauder the dynamic duo had bullied. "The Dark Lord will give you power. He will give you plans and imbue you with strength you can only imagine. You've seen what I can do all ready. Do you think Potter or Black are capable of that? Do you think they would protect you if they knew that you were up against that?"
"They..." Peter's face went slack and blank, tears rolled down his blood-stained face, tracing in new pale tracks that were quickly clouded over with another ooze of blood, so fresh Severus could taste it.
"Where are they now, Peter? Did they invite you? Did they think of you? Did they worry over you in this time where dark wizards abound and the innocent vanish from the street?" Severus leaned in, so close to the blood and tears that they leaked into his mouth. The elixir of fear was the sweetest taste that had ever passed his lips.
"No." Severus could feel the force of Peter's admittance shudder through his body with a warm tingle of release. Peter's open mouth passed balmy breath to his cheek, panting, exhausted, finished. "They don't worry about me at all."
Severus sat back and pulled the sleeve of his robe up, revealing his mark. "Your new friends, your new brethren, they will always know where you are, will always care for you, will always know how to find you."
Choking back a sob, Peter nodded and dropped his head in defeat. Sweet attrition, the final permission; Peter was his.