Peter Pettigrew/Ginny - Rape
"I'm telling you, she's got her eye on you, mate," said George to Harry with a mischievous grin, as they sat in the Gryffindor common room. Harry blushed and quickly looked down at his book, feigning indifference. Ginny Weasley, with her fiery red hair and bright green eyes, had indeed been giving him more than just passing glances these days. But Harry had enough on his plate with Voldemort and his Death Eaters to worry about.
Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room, a cloud of flour dusting the air behind her. "Ron, have you seen my wand?" she called out. Her voice was a familiar comfort in the warm, cluttered space, a stark contrast to the tension that seemed to be ever-present outside the walls of the Burrow. The twins' laughter filled the room as they pretended to search for it, conjuring up a pair of floating knitting needles that clacked together in a mock duel.
Percy looked up from his paperwork, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Can you keep it down?" he snapped. "Some of us are trying to be productive." The twins stuck out their tongues at him, but their mother's call was more pressing.
"Percy, don't be such a prat," said Fred, not missing a beat. "You're just jealous because you don't have a sense of humor." Percy rolled his eyes and returned to his work, muttering something about "childish pranks." The room buzzed with the usual Weasley banter, a cocoon of normalcy in a world that felt increasingly dangerous.
As the evening grew later, the chatter began to die down. Hermione curled up on the couch with a book, her nose buried in the pages. Ginny sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with a stray piece of yarn from Mrs. Weasley's mending basket. Harry couldn't help but steal glances at her, his heart doing a peculiar flip every time their eyes met. Little did he know, nestled in the corner, a pair of beady eyes watched them both with a malicious intent that was anything but innocent. Scabbers, the Weasleys' pet rat, twitched his whiskers, his tiny body tense with a secret that would soon unfold into a dark and twisted reality.
The full moon loomed outside, casting eerie shadows across the room. Scabbers' fur stood on end, and his eyes grew wide with anticipation. Ginny yawned and stretched, standing up to bid everyone goodnight. Harry felt a strange tug of unease as she walked up the stairs to her room, her footsteps growing faint. It was then that Scabbers made his move, slipping out from his hiding spot and scurrying after her. His transformation was swift and silent, a testament to the years of practice he had under his belt. Peter Pettigrew, in his human form, slithered up the stairs, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that was not of the stomach.
The door to Ginny's room clicked shut behind her, and Harry found himself unable to focus on his own reading. He glanced around the room, noticing that everyone else was engrossed in their own activities. With a sudden jolt, he realized he had to tell someone about the feeling in his gut, the same feeling he had had when he first saw the diary. He jumped up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Ron, I need to talk to you," he said, urgency in his voice.
Ron looked up from his Quidditch magazine, his expression a mix of surprise and annoyance at being interrupted. "What's up?" he asked, his voice thick with sleepiness. Harry took a deep breath and began to explain his suspicions about Scabbers and Ginny, his words tumbling out in a rush. Ron's face grew pale as he listened, the realization of what Harry might be hinting at slowly sinking in. "You don't think...no, that can't be," he stuttered. But even as he spoke, he knew that Harry's intuition was rarely wrong.
The two friends exchanged a look of dread. They had to act fast. Harry grabbed his wand and headed for the stairs, with Ron close behind. They reached Ginny's room, their hearts pounding in their chests. Harry placed his ear against the wood, listening for any signs of trouble. The silence was deafening. With a trembling hand, he turned the doorknob, pushing the door open just enough to peer inside. What they saw sent a cold shiver down their spines. Ginny was lying on the bed, her eyes wide with terror, and standing over her was Peter Pettigrew, his wand poised to strike. "Ginny," Harry whispered hoarsely, his eyes locked on the scene before him. "Ron, get help."
The urgency of the situation was palpable. Ron nodded and took off, leaving Harry to face the traitor alone. He stepped into the room, his wand at the ready. "Pettigrew," he said, his voice steady despite his racing thoughts. "What are you doing?" Pettigrew's eyes flicked to Harry, and in that moment, Harry knew that he had to act. He lunged forward, but Pettigrew was quicker, his wand slicing through the air. The room was plunged into chaos as spells flew and furniture toppled. Harry had to save Ginny, but Pettigrew was stronger than he had ever anticipated. The battle was on, and it was one that Harry knew would have repercussions that would echo throughout the wizarding world.
Ginny's scream pierced the air, jolting Harry into action. He dodged a curse and sent one of his own, but Pettigrew was no novice. Years of hiding and plotting had honed his skills, and he was more than a match for the young wizard. Harry's wand connected with a lamp, sending shards of glass flying through the room. He had to keep Pettigrew's attention away from Ginny. She was trembling on the bed, her eyes fixed on the monster that had been living under their roof. Harry's mind raced as he tried to think of a way to end this nightmare without getting either of them killed.
The door burst open, and Mrs. Weasley rushed in, followed closely by Mr. Weasley and the twins. "PETER!" she screamed, her wand outstretched. Pettigrew sneered, his true colors showing in the harsh moonlight. "Hello, Molly," he spat. "Long time no see." The room was a whirlwind of spells and shouts, the air thick with fear and rage. Harry saw his opening and dashed to Ginny's side, shielding her with his body.
"Expelliarmus!" roared Mr. Weasley, and Pettigrew's wand flew out of his hand, landing with a clatter on the floor. In a flash, Mr. Weasley had his own wand pointed at his former friend's chest. "What have you done?" he demanded, his voice shaking. Pettigrew's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape. Harry felt Ginny's trembling subside slightly, and he whispered reassurances into her ear.
The Order of the Phoenix members began to arrive, alerted by the commotion. They took in the scene with shock and disgust. Pettigrew was quickly disarmed and bound, his struggles futile against the combined might of the Order. As Harry helped Ginny off the bed, he saw the horror etched into her features. This was a moment that would change everything, a betrayal that would leave scars deeper than any physical wound. The room was filled with the sound of heavy footsteps and grim whispers as the reality of what had almost happened sank in.
The night was far from over, though. Pettigrew had to be questioned, and Harry knew that the truth would be as twisted as the man himself. The battle lines had been drawn, and it was clear that the fight against Voldemort was about to become even more personal. The Weasleys' home, once a bastion of warmth and safety, was now tainted with the shadow of the Death Eater who had been hiding in plain sight. And as Harry looked into Ginny's eyes, he knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges they could never have imagined, challenges that would test the bonds of friendship and family like never before.