Peter Pettigrew Novels & Stories

Chapter 50 Under the Gun Peter stared in shock as Mr. James sat quietly among these men. He couldn’t believe his eyes. James, Aurora’s father? How could he be involved with these people? “Now that we’re all here, let’s get to know each other,” the leader of the group said with a voice that echoed through the dimly lit warehouse. His presence was intimidating, like a shadow that filled the entire space. “My name is Victor Peterson,” the man said coldly, his dark eyes locking onto Peter’s.

"No, you're not. But ever since I found you, I've felt responsible for you." I rolled my eyes, perching on the brick windowsill and gazing into the night sky. She spoke as if she were years older than me. Leigh was only a year my senior, and she didn't find me—I found her. I was on a job for Pete at Noor Settlement, fetching an ancient mage's book. Pete was a deadly Diremage—just a touch from him could be fatal. I've seen him play a man like a puppet before leaving him off to die in the gutter in blistering cold so I knew crossing Pete meant trouble, and it's also one of the reasons he's wanted by the king. He's a Blessed, like me.

Mom looked at me with sadness in her eyes and I wondered if there was something she was trying to hide from me. This was what most people did: judge someone by how they look. Sirius Black looked like a criminal that everyone believed him to be. The first time they met, with his gaunt, sunken face, waxy skin, yellow teeth, and long, matted hair, even Harry said that Sirius reminded him of what a corpse might look like. While Peter Pettigrew looked like someone who wouldn't hurt a fly. But in the end, Peter was the one who had betrayed James, his own best friend. Looks can be really deceiving.

Peter took his seat behind his desk while Owen took a seat opposite Peter. "That must have been a wild night, Owen. Tell me all that has happened." Peter requested. "I will do that, Mr. Quinton; but before I share last night's events with you, I need to know something; and you are the only person that can answer my question." Owen replied calmly. "That sounds serious, Owen. What is your question?" Peter asked. "Mr. Quinton, is Jim Yates and the underground mafia working for you?" Owen asked directly. In Owen's mind, he knew Peter would want him to be direct when asking Peter questions. Therefore, Owen did not hesitate to ask about Jim to Peter, point blank directly.

Burns, who had finished eating most of Smith’s eggs says pulling out a piece of paper from under his laptop and handing it to me, I knew almost every single person on that list. “Our biggest plan is to hit the Penthouse Suite, a man known as Peter Erickson, do you know him?” Turner asked turning the page where the man I knew beyond well looked back at me, allowing a lump to form in my throat. Could I do this to Peter?

Severus could not provoke Tim, but surely he could deal with the Master of Golden Liberty, right? He finally understood Peter had crossed Henry, the Master of Golden Liberty. Severus had wondered how a young grandmaster would appear out of nowhere. However, knowing it was the Master of Golden Liberty made perfect sense.

The young man smiled, snorting happy to be able to look directly into my eyes, "because I have made your voice inaudible to your friend." I frowned, not understanding what he meant. Without even asking he already knew the question that was in my head. “ My name is Peter, Peter G. Wilson. And I, descendant of witches. You get what I mean right?” My eyes widen at that, “and I've made your friend's voice inaudible … by magic,” he added anxiously. "You are okay?" he asked as he touched my cheek.

Not just a wolf. But a force of nature. And no matter how much I wanted to run from him, some part of me—some maddening, aching part—knew it would be impossible. Whether I liked it or not, this man, this beast, this protector… was mine. And I was his. Our eyes were still locked when footsteps echoed across the ruined chamber. His beta entered—Lieutenant Daniel, clad in formal armor, eyes darting from the destroyed wall to the blood-soaked floor, then to the dead assassin sprawled at Alexandro’s feet.

But times like this it was helpful. “Yes my father is His Grace Quentin Templeton Duke of Leeds, speaker of the house of commons and CEO of Templeton Enterprise." I said, taking my id and putting it back in my pocket. “You blokes should know better than to slander someone from such an upstanding family. I voted for his father in the last general election." the officer said. going back to the dumpster.

The man added "No actually, what's your name if I may ask?" Melnyk tried to be polite. The man hissed, turned his back and started to walk away. "As your king, I order you to stop" The man stopped and turned back once again. "You are not yet a king because you are scared to take the throne. What do you want?" The man asked again "Your name?" "It's Peter. Peter the bulldog" "Peter, do you want to be my beta," Melnyk asked