Painted Roses

Chapter 1

Blood splattered from Harry's leg, drenching his clothes, slipping down to the mossy grass. He trembled, half from the frost-bitten air, the other half from numbing pain.
He groaned, attempting to twist. Possibly wiggle his way loose as he'd done in his Uncles grip so many times before. The rope only tightened, squeezing more blood from his leg.
Harry winced. Teeth clattering, tears dabbling at the corner of his eyes as his glasses lay next to his wand. Broken and forgotten.

Pettigrew shuddering, jittering in a manor that made him look almost psychotic as his eye twitched and hands fumbled with his wand. Or what Harry thought could be his wand.
He didn't know. Didn't care either.
All Harry wanted to do was hiss and kill the bastard. The man who'd snitched out his parents. Blamed it on his godfather. Made Remus live in seclusion for twelve Damn years!

But Harry had no energy to curse the rat bastard out. He was more preoccupied with Cedric's cooling body beside him, eyes now dimmed and that bloody green curse zapping past his eyes on seemingly replay.
He winced as the ropes only continued to tighten, trying to hold his leg still but the venom from that god forsaken spider wasn't having it.
Harry hissed, as the pain intensified. He was sure his complexion was down to Malfoys level.
Ghostly pale and a bit sick looking.

It was when he choked and spat a mouthful of blood on the ground, that wind rushed through the cemetery and a man landed expertly on the mossy ground.
Others followed. All wearing exotic masks and black cloaks large enough to cover the biggest of people. Possibly even Hagrid would look normal in one of those cloaks.

The man though. The one in the center.
He lowered his own cloaks hood, revealing a alarmingly good-looking dude. One he was pretty sure not even Hermione could withstand, and she was practically immune to all boy testosterone.
Pettigrew dipped his head, the twitch in his eye becoming more severe along with his general shaking. Harry wanted to snarl and bite venom at the coward.

Facing away from the rat bastard, Harry turned his hooded gaze toward the man standing in the center. Surrounded by his attendees. But the man was not looking at him. Instead his attention was on Cedric.
The dead Cedric at Harry's feet. Cold and pale and dead. Harry clenched his teeth.

Why was that guy looking at him? Why was he looking at Cho's boyfriend? Her dead boyfriend.
'Stop looking' Harry wanted to spit. 'It's not for you to fucking see! For NO ONE to see!'

"...Did you kill this man Wormtail?"
A bolder dropped in Harry's stomach. Pettigrew was not Wormtail. He was Peter Pettigrew -the rat bastard.
He should not be carrying around the fucking nickname his best friends had given him! The friends he had betrayed!
The man's lips quivered, and he bowed his head more. "...Ye-yes my lord."
The man stared. Stared at Pettigrew.
"Why?" It was merely a whisper, but it carried more than any voice Harry had ever heard.
"You... you did not a-ask for h-him, my lord."
The man blinked, slow and languid then turned back to the body, before finally lifting his head up to Harry.

"What did you do to the boy, Wormtail?"
Pettigrew whimpered, though answered rather quickly for his pathetic showcase. "N-nothing my lord."
"He tied himself, then?"
"...W-well —no... but the boy would've e-escaped!" Pettigrew was quick to defend. "H-he would've used his w-wand and escaped, my lord!" He squeaked.

'I would've killed you before,' Harry wanted to curse. It was right on the tip of his tongue.
But the ropes tightened again, and he groaned. His sickening thoughts of vengeance put on hold as blood dripped quicker to the floor.
The ropes disappeared, and he fell. Harry gasped, surprised as he fell onto the floor, smashing his glasses under him in the process.
He winced as the sharper pieces plunged into his side.