Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Care and Feeding of Dark Lords
Care and Feeding of Dark Lords
2 reviewsWhat is involved in caring for the homunculus of a Dark Lord? WARNING DARK!!! (no slash)
5Original
Just a quick bunny that came about from a line in Robst's excellent Can't Have it Both Ways.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5402315/1/
WARNING!! VERY, VERY DARK! DISTURBING SCENE BELOW!!
In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):
"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! Nothing!"
Peter was a mediocre wizard, he knew it, his friends had known it, and the master had been all too willing to take advantage of this.
The master had offered to show him power beyond imagining, and he had willingly betrayed the only people who had ever truly cared for him. It had led to him being chased down in the streets of London by an enraged Sirius Black, and resorting to lopping off a finger to escape. He had managed to find a wizarding family to live with, but that had ended up as years he would have gladly rather spent in hell.
Percy was actually an alright chap for the most part. Well except for the whole masturbating to technical specification manuals.
But at least he didn't subject him to the horrors the younger ones did. He shivered at the experiments the two monsters had subjected him to. Ron was a nightmare as well. He had nearly had his tail bitten off once when he had gotten too close to his food, trying to steal a bite. The little bastard would even eat his food from his cage at times. Of course, Peter had decided to get even, and would hide a small measure of food, and leave his droppings mixed in with the pellets.
But the worst? That would be the little Harry Potter-obsessed girl. Ginny was a few years away from boiling someone's pet rabbits for stew, or the next Bellatrix of her generation. The thought of her dressing him up in those damnable "Official Harry Potter Wedding Robes" again made his eye twitch uncontrollably. At least he had managed to get out of there before puberty truly kicked in.
He had been given the opportunity to redeem himself by the very boy he had wronged. The other marauders looked ready to turn him into a stuffed wall mount, and Harry had interceded. He was so like James, always willing to see the best in almost everyone. If only that greasy hook nosed bastard hadn't burst in and ruined everything. He had reacted on instinct and made a dash for freedom. Unfortunately, he knew that Sirius and Remus would not let him disappear again. He had only been able to hide because Sirius was in Azkaban, and Remus thought he was dead. Those two would find him and eviscerate him within the week without Harry there to stop them.
So Peter had done the cowardly weak thing yet again. He had returned to his master. Or what was left of him at any rate. His once proud strong master, was now nothing more than a horrid cross of an infant and a snake. If the devil himself was born of a woman, he would look his deformed master. Now Peter was taking steps to return his master to a humanoid form. He knew that Harry would be the blood sacrifice, but he hoped to have another Death Eater willing to lop off a part of themselves to resurrect the master.
Maybe there was another way? Some way to redeem himself, and protect Harry?
With a shriek, Peter tumbled over at the rasped Crucio! from his thrice cursed master. Luckily, the master's strength was minimal and the formerly brain scrambling power of his torture spell was merely agonizing. Although ending up in the long term care ward of St. Mungos was sounding better and better. Of course, if the master did scramble his brains with one too many crucios, he knew he would end up as snake food.
As he felt the curse lift, he heard his master tell him how he hungered, and needed to be fed. Heaven forbid the master simply asked politely for what he needed. No, no, no! The master was too good for that!
It was always...
Crucio! Feed me Wormtail!
Crucio! Read me the news Wormtail!
Crucio! Amuse me Wormtail!
Crucio! Ooooo this one's a smelly nappy Wormtail! Make sure you wipe my arse properly Wormtail!
Miserable snake faced bastard! Who would have thought a diet of milky snake venom and small children could make for such spectacularly horrid bowel movements. While the colors were simply mind boggling, the smell had literally caused the paint to peel from the walls. He was also sure that the master intentionally tried to urinate or defecate on him as he changed the filthy nappies.
Speaking of smells, the master needed another bath. Yet another task no one tells you about during career day when you read the glamorous brochure "So you want to be a Dark Minion?" Of course, he should have known that the Slytherins would leave things out, it was just in their nature.
"Come along master, time for your 'ritual anointing', we need to prepare you." said Peter, rolling his eyes at the master's happy bouncing and clapping his hands.
"Make sure you bring my basilisk familiar model! Not the dumb poopy-head griffin one again or I will Crucio you Wormtail!" hissed the master.
Model, yeah right. Stupid squeaky snake toy.
He noticed Nagini slip out for her nightly hunt. Good! The monster gave him horrible frights, always looking at him like he was still in his animagus form.
As the master splashed happily in his "dark ritual chamber", Peter tried to keep himself at least somewhat dry, and the floor from being soaked. If the master was not careful, he would slip and fall, bursting his head like a...
Peter couldn't. The master would flay his skin from his bones, and make a windchime from the remnants.
But he remembered Lily warning him how an infant could drown in only an inch of bathwater...
All it took was a second of inattention...
"Wormtail! Scrub my back! I've got itchies!", hissed the master.
"Yes, master. Just let me add a little annointing oil to the chamber to properly protect your skin. There now, lean forward so I can get your back properly...Just a bit more master...THERE!" screeched Peter, as he thrust the surprised Dark Lord's head under the water. He watched his master tense and try to push off from the bottom of the tub, shocked at the sudden betrayal by his most loyal servant.
His master grew more frantic as his small hands and feet slipped on the smooth porcelain surface of the tub, unable to find purchase or leverage on the oil and water slicked tub. Peter felt bile rise in his throat as his vision swam, suddenly seeing an image of precious little Harry under his hands, and he started to release him. Until he realized his master was desperately trying to mentally attack him. With a grimace, and a swallow of bitter burning bile, he pushed the master's head firmly back under the roiling waters, banging his small head against the hard tub, hoping to break the master's concentration.
He felt the dark mark on his arm ignite, and he could smell the flesh charring down to the bone, as his master tried to control him. He screamed in pain, but would not stop now. He was a dead man either way, hopefully this way would take some of the darkness from his soul. Or at least enough so that he could submit himself to Lily and James and beg for their forgiveness, before he was cast into the pits of Tartarus and eternal torment.
He could see flakes of ash circling in the room, as the air currents lofted them like hellish snowflakes, morbidly dancing in the air. The master thrashed a few more times, jerkily and uncontrolled. Peter knew he was dying, and that the mark was trying to drain the life and magic from his body to keep the drowned master alive. He sobbed out a broken plea, "Forgive me Lilly, I'm sorry James! Sirius and Remus please take care of Harry...he's such a dear boy. Harry, thank you for your kindness and trust, I hope you live a full and happy life!" With that, the weakest, most fearful of the Marauders, and the shame of Gryffindor toppled forward lifelessly onto the former darkest wizard of the past thousand years.
A/N I always see fics about how Peter is regularly belittled and cursed, and how he considers that having the dark lord back may not be such a good thing. But at heart, Peter is a terrified little man. How could he actually do something to prevent the Dark Lord's rise?
This actually made me nauseous as I wrote it. Any one who has ever bathed a child, will know why, and I apologize for the darkness of this. It is a terrifying thought, as it literally only take a few seconds for a child to drown. I need a drink.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5402315/1/
WARNING!! VERY, VERY DARK! DISTURBING SCENE BELOW!!
In the slightly modified words of Sergeant Schultz from Hogan's Heroes (which I also don't own):
"I own nothing, I hear nothing, I see nothing, I know nothing! Nothing!"
Peter was a mediocre wizard, he knew it, his friends had known it, and the master had been all too willing to take advantage of this.
The master had offered to show him power beyond imagining, and he had willingly betrayed the only people who had ever truly cared for him. It had led to him being chased down in the streets of London by an enraged Sirius Black, and resorting to lopping off a finger to escape. He had managed to find a wizarding family to live with, but that had ended up as years he would have gladly rather spent in hell.
Percy was actually an alright chap for the most part. Well except for the whole masturbating to technical specification manuals.
But at least he didn't subject him to the horrors the younger ones did. He shivered at the experiments the two monsters had subjected him to. Ron was a nightmare as well. He had nearly had his tail bitten off once when he had gotten too close to his food, trying to steal a bite. The little bastard would even eat his food from his cage at times. Of course, Peter had decided to get even, and would hide a small measure of food, and leave his droppings mixed in with the pellets.
But the worst? That would be the little Harry Potter-obsessed girl. Ginny was a few years away from boiling someone's pet rabbits for stew, or the next Bellatrix of her generation. The thought of her dressing him up in those damnable "Official Harry Potter Wedding Robes" again made his eye twitch uncontrollably. At least he had managed to get out of there before puberty truly kicked in.
He had been given the opportunity to redeem himself by the very boy he had wronged. The other marauders looked ready to turn him into a stuffed wall mount, and Harry had interceded. He was so like James, always willing to see the best in almost everyone. If only that greasy hook nosed bastard hadn't burst in and ruined everything. He had reacted on instinct and made a dash for freedom. Unfortunately, he knew that Sirius and Remus would not let him disappear again. He had only been able to hide because Sirius was in Azkaban, and Remus thought he was dead. Those two would find him and eviscerate him within the week without Harry there to stop them.
So Peter had done the cowardly weak thing yet again. He had returned to his master. Or what was left of him at any rate. His once proud strong master, was now nothing more than a horrid cross of an infant and a snake. If the devil himself was born of a woman, he would look his deformed master. Now Peter was taking steps to return his master to a humanoid form. He knew that Harry would be the blood sacrifice, but he hoped to have another Death Eater willing to lop off a part of themselves to resurrect the master.
Maybe there was another way? Some way to redeem himself, and protect Harry?
With a shriek, Peter tumbled over at the rasped Crucio! from his thrice cursed master. Luckily, the master's strength was minimal and the formerly brain scrambling power of his torture spell was merely agonizing. Although ending up in the long term care ward of St. Mungos was sounding better and better. Of course, if the master did scramble his brains with one too many crucios, he knew he would end up as snake food.
As he felt the curse lift, he heard his master tell him how he hungered, and needed to be fed. Heaven forbid the master simply asked politely for what he needed. No, no, no! The master was too good for that!
It was always...
Crucio! Feed me Wormtail!
Crucio! Read me the news Wormtail!
Crucio! Amuse me Wormtail!
Crucio! Ooooo this one's a smelly nappy Wormtail! Make sure you wipe my arse properly Wormtail!
Miserable snake faced bastard! Who would have thought a diet of milky snake venom and small children could make for such spectacularly horrid bowel movements. While the colors were simply mind boggling, the smell had literally caused the paint to peel from the walls. He was also sure that the master intentionally tried to urinate or defecate on him as he changed the filthy nappies.
Speaking of smells, the master needed another bath. Yet another task no one tells you about during career day when you read the glamorous brochure "So you want to be a Dark Minion?" Of course, he should have known that the Slytherins would leave things out, it was just in their nature.
"Come along master, time for your 'ritual anointing', we need to prepare you." said Peter, rolling his eyes at the master's happy bouncing and clapping his hands.
"Make sure you bring my basilisk familiar model! Not the dumb poopy-head griffin one again or I will Crucio you Wormtail!" hissed the master.
Model, yeah right. Stupid squeaky snake toy.
He noticed Nagini slip out for her nightly hunt. Good! The monster gave him horrible frights, always looking at him like he was still in his animagus form.
As the master splashed happily in his "dark ritual chamber", Peter tried to keep himself at least somewhat dry, and the floor from being soaked. If the master was not careful, he would slip and fall, bursting his head like a...
Peter couldn't. The master would flay his skin from his bones, and make a windchime from the remnants.
But he remembered Lily warning him how an infant could drown in only an inch of bathwater...
All it took was a second of inattention...
"Wormtail! Scrub my back! I've got itchies!", hissed the master.
"Yes, master. Just let me add a little annointing oil to the chamber to properly protect your skin. There now, lean forward so I can get your back properly...Just a bit more master...THERE!" screeched Peter, as he thrust the surprised Dark Lord's head under the water. He watched his master tense and try to push off from the bottom of the tub, shocked at the sudden betrayal by his most loyal servant.
His master grew more frantic as his small hands and feet slipped on the smooth porcelain surface of the tub, unable to find purchase or leverage on the oil and water slicked tub. Peter felt bile rise in his throat as his vision swam, suddenly seeing an image of precious little Harry under his hands, and he started to release him. Until he realized his master was desperately trying to mentally attack him. With a grimace, and a swallow of bitter burning bile, he pushed the master's head firmly back under the roiling waters, banging his small head against the hard tub, hoping to break the master's concentration.
He felt the dark mark on his arm ignite, and he could smell the flesh charring down to the bone, as his master tried to control him. He screamed in pain, but would not stop now. He was a dead man either way, hopefully this way would take some of the darkness from his soul. Or at least enough so that he could submit himself to Lily and James and beg for their forgiveness, before he was cast into the pits of Tartarus and eternal torment.
He could see flakes of ash circling in the room, as the air currents lofted them like hellish snowflakes, morbidly dancing in the air. The master thrashed a few more times, jerkily and uncontrolled. Peter knew he was dying, and that the mark was trying to drain the life and magic from his body to keep the drowned master alive. He sobbed out a broken plea, "Forgive me Lilly, I'm sorry James! Sirius and Remus please take care of Harry...he's such a dear boy. Harry, thank you for your kindness and trust, I hope you live a full and happy life!" With that, the weakest, most fearful of the Marauders, and the shame of Gryffindor toppled forward lifelessly onto the former darkest wizard of the past thousand years.
A/N I always see fics about how Peter is regularly belittled and cursed, and how he considers that having the dark lord back may not be such a good thing. But at heart, Peter is a terrified little man. How could he actually do something to prevent the Dark Lord's rise?
This actually made me nauseous as I wrote it. Any one who has ever bathed a child, will know why, and I apologize for the darkness of this. It is a terrifying thought, as it literally only take a few seconds for a child to drown. I need a drink.
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