I am Peter Pettigrew

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The Hogwarts kitchens were as lively as ever, the air filled with the clinking of pots and pans, the hum of house-elves bustling about, and the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats. I made my way through the organized chaos, brushing past tables laden with food destined for the Great Hall, until I spotted two familiar figures in a quieter corner: Dobby and Winky.

Both elves were seated on a low bench, engaged in quiet conversation. Dobby's mismatched socks caught my eye immediately, while Winky looked forlorn, her large eyes puffy from recent tears, the last time I had seen her she was knocked out and lying on the forest floor. Both were free elves—rare and, in many ways, vulnerable.

I stepped closer, and their conversation ceased as they noticed me.

"Professor Pettigrew Sir!" Dobby exclaimed, jumping up. His tennis-ball-sized eyes were wide with a mixture of excitement and caution.

Winky, on the other hand, remained seated but gave a low curtsy. "Professor," she mumbled, her voice trembling.

"Dobby, Winky," I greeted them with a smile. "I hear the two of you are free elves now and looking for work."

Winky immediately nodded, her ears perking up. "Yes, sir! Winky is wanting to serve a kind master again. Winky is not happy being free."

Dobby, however, hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Dobby is liking his freedom, Professor. Dobby does not want to be bound again, sir."

I crouched slightly to meet their eye level, keeping my tone calm and persuasive. "I'm not here to take away your freedom, Dobby. In fact, I admire your choice. But freedom doesn't mean you can't have structure or purpose. I'm offering you a chance to work for me—on your terms. For you, Dobby, I'll even pay you five knuts a year."

Dobby's ears perked up, and he visibly brightened. "Five knuts? A year? Dobby is being paid?"

5 knuts is like pennies, he would have to save up for years to even buy a pair of socks, thankfully he's new to this and doesn't know what his service is worth.

"Yes," I said with a nod. "And you'll still have your freedom. But in return, you'll help me with tasks I assign, and I'll ensure you're treated fairly and kindly."

Dobby hesitated for a moment but then grinned broadly. "Dobby will do it, Professor! Dobby accepts!"

Winky, on the other hand, didn't need further convincing. "Winky is happy to serve you, Professor! Winky swears to be loyal."

"Good," I said, pleased. "Then let's make it official. Swear your oaths to me, and I'll ensure you're protected and have meaningful work."

Both elves extended their hands and repeated the binding words of loyalty, sealing their oaths to me. A faint glow surrounded them briefly, signaling the magical bond.

I felt a tug in my core and knew that the oaths had settled properly, heh they don't know what they have signed up for.

"Now," I said, straightening up, "follow me to my quarters. We need to discuss a few important rules."

Once inside my room, I closed the door firmly and turned to face the two elves, who stood expectantly near my desk.

"First and foremost," I began, "you are never to share anything about me—what I do, what I say, what I want—with anyone. Not students, not other staff, not even other elves. Do you understand?"

Both nodded vigorously.

"Dobby understands, Professor! Dobby will not speak of you."

"Winky promises to keep master's secrets!"

"Good," I said. "Second, if you ever come across anything important—anything unusual happening in the castle or news that might concern me—you are to report it to me immediately."

"Yes, sir!" they chorused.

"Third," I continued, "you will not tell anyone that you work for me, it will remain a secret, if someone asks just say you are one of the hogwarts elves."

Winky nodded without hesitation, while Dobby hesitated briefly before agreeing. "Yes, Professor. Dobby will tell everyone he works for hogwarts."

I look at him exasperatedly, "you don't have to tell anyone until someone asks, okay Dobby"

He nods at me enthusiastically.

"Excellent," I said, leaning back against my desk. "Now, I won't burden you with unnecessary tasks. I value efficiency and discretion, and as long as you follow these rules, we won't have any problems."

Both elves bowed deeply.

"Thank you, sir!" Winky said, her voice filled with gratitude.

"Dobby is happy to work for you, Professor!"

"Now you can carry out your work around the castle, act as my eyes and ears, but one of you will always remain with me. You will change every 12 hours. You will not appear Infront of me, you will hide and protect me in case someone attacks. Clear"

They look at me with large confused eyes but still nod. Good as can be, I'll explain it to them in detail later.

I dismissed them with a wave of my hand, watching as they disappeared with soft pops of magic. This arrangement would prove invaluable—I had two of the most loyal and capable magical creatures at my disposal. The tasks ahead would require careful planning, and having Dobby and Winky on my side ensured that I would always have a set of ears around the castle and an elf shield if it ever comes to it.

0000

After finishing my last class for the day, I made my way to my office, the pile of first, second, and third-year assignments stacked haphazardly on my desk. They were an unfortunate reminder of the ever-growing demands of teaching at Hogwarts. I was just about to settle in when there was a knock at the door. Right on time.

"Enter," I called.

The door opened to reveal Elara Silver, she was looking as beautiful as ever and I would have loved to make her remember all the things I had done to her and than make new memories, Alas I have other plans tonight.

She stepped in, her expression a mixture of resignation and mild irritation—no doubt she'd been hoping this particular detention would consist of her simply sitting in silence while I pored over work, like she remembers them usually going. Elara was intelligent, sharp-witted, and unfortunately a little too clever for her own good, which often landed her between my legs.

"Evening, Professor," she said with a drawl, hands in her pockets.

"Evening, Ms. Silver," I replied, gesturing toward the stack of assignments on my desk. "Change of plans for today. You'll be checking homework and assignments. First, second, and third years. You're a sixth-year; this should be well within your capabilities."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You're joking."

I fixed her with a pointed look. "Do I look like I'm joking? I trust you know enough to spot basic errors and I have checked a few of the fully correct ones for you to compare."

Elara sighed dramatically, but her sharp gaze darted to the papers. "What's the punishment in this? Seems more like you're just passing off your workload."

"You catch on quickly. Congratulations," I said flatly. "Consider this character-building, Ms. Silver. The sooner you finish, the sooner you're free to go."

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, though she reluctantly sat down at the small table near the window and pulled the first stack of parchment toward her. "You owe me for this."

I smirked, grabbing my coat as I headed for the door. "Consider this part of your reformation, Ms. Silver. You'll thank me one day." And maybe even tonight if things don't go to plan.

"I won't," she shot back, though I ignored her as I left. With Elara busy for the next hour or two, I could focus on far more pressing—and enjoyable—matters.

0000

Diagon Alley was always buzzing with activity, but I wasn't here for casual shopping or idle strolls. No, tonight was planned, and I approached the high-class restaurant with the same calm confidence I carried everywhere. This particular evening had been set in motion earlier when Rita Skeeter had probed me about Harry, probing for information to turn into a headline. I'd denied her outright and instead offered her a proposition: leave Harry out of her sensationalized nonsense, and I'd owe her a favor. Rita, ever opportunistic, had smirked and countered by asking me to dinner.

And now here I was.

"Peter," came a familiar voice.

I turned to see Rita Skeeter striding toward me, her emerald dress clinging to her figure, her blonde curls carefully styled, and her jeweled spectacles catching the evening light. She looked like someone who spent hours ensuring she appeared effortless. I smiled as she approached.

"Rita," I said smoothly. "Punctual, as always."

She flashed her teeth. "And you, Peter, are even more charming than I remembered."

I offered her my arm, which she took with a pleased expression, and together we entered the restaurant. We were shown to a private table tucked away from prying eyes, and as we settled in, I studied her carefully. Her dress was showing a lot of cleavage and it seems the love potion I had given her was working splendidly, with how her eyes roamed my body.

The menus floated in front of us, but Rita wasn't interested in food yet. Her eyes were locked on me, alight with curiosity. "I'll admit, Peter, I didn't expect you to agree to this little date of ours. You're a bit of a mystery."

"Well after the superb article on Snape, I had to meet you"

I smirked. "and Mystery keeps things interesting."

"And you've certainly kept me interested." She lowered her voice, leaning forward conspiratorially. "But I suspect there's more to this dinner than wine and charm."

I met her gaze evenly, letting my expression soften. "Rita, let's not pretend you didn't want this dinner as much as I did. Besides, I enjoy your company—you're sharp, ambitious, and you know how to get what you want."

The compliment landed perfectly, as I'd intended. Rita practically preened, her smile widening. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Peter."

As our food arrived, I allowed the conversation to flow naturally. Rita was a gossip at heart, and she filled the time with tales of her latest scoops and rumors swirling through the Ministry. I listened attentively, offering occasional quips or insights where appropriate, all while gently using Legilimency. It was light—almost imperceptible. I wasn't tearing through her mind; I was simply nudging her thoughts, planting subtle suggestions that softened her perceptions of me.

He's charming. Reliable. Someone you can trust.

It was an art, really—one I'd perfected over hours of practice. Rita's confidence made her mind easy to navigate, and I guided her feelings toward warmth, fascination, and a touch of intrigue. She didn't even realize the shift, though I could see it in the way her gaze lingered on me longer than before, the way her smiles became softer and more genuine.

Over dessert, Rita set down her fork and fixed me with an appraising look. "I have to say, Peter, you're full of surprises. First, you're shielding young Harry Potter from my quill, and now you're sitting here, charming the socks off me."

I chuckled lightly, leaning back in my chair. "I told you—I'm not the villain you make me out to be. Sometimes, the headlines don't tell the whole story."

"Perhaps not," she said, her voice softer now. There was a pause, a beat of silence where her expression turned more contemplative. Then, she tilted her head slightly, a coy smile tugging at her lips. "What do you say, Peter? Care to extend this evening?"

I raised an eyebrow, though I knew exactly what she was implying. "Extend it?"

"To my place." Her voice dropped just enough to make the invitation unmistakable.

I allowed myself a slow, deliberate smile, masking the flicker of satisfaction beneath it. The evening had gone exactly as I'd planned. "How could I say no?"

Rita laughed, her smile triumphant as she stood. I followed suit, placing a few galleons on the table for the bill before offering her my arm once more. As we left the restaurant and stepped into the cool night air, I kept my expression calm, hiding the swirling thoughts in my mind.

Rita Skeeter was an asset—one I'd just ensured would remain firmly within my influence. Her headlines, her rumors, her reach into the heart of magical Britain—all of it could be guided, if not controlled, with a careful hand.

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