"Mrs. Pettigrew, I'm assuming?" Violetta Hobday furrowed her brows and shook her head at the man in the door way of Peter's house. It had been one of her small break vacations and she was spending it with Peter. Despite their constant close relationship, the two hadn't gotten married, and not many people still knew they were together. Oh, but were they ever. By watching them, one uneducated on love or relationships may think that they were just really quite good friends. However, one that did know the subject of love or relationships, would know that the two had a bond so deep, best friends in love was the only thing to call it. Maybe soul mates, but Vi didn't believe in such foolishness.
"Uh, no sir. Violetta Hobday. Peter Pettigrew's... significant other, why?" She asked, her voice was laced with confusion and uncertainty. The man's look worried her. Peter'd been gone all night long and had been acting funny the previous day. Could Peter have gotten in trouble? She almost wanted to roll her eyes and look around for him. Call out to him and tell him he'd have to do better than some serious looking muggle to scare her. It had to've been a prank.
"I regret to inform you that as of last night, October 31st, in the late of the night, possible early in the morning.." The man was taking this slowly, and his face said it all. A lump in Vi's throat rose just as her impatience did,
"What is it, man?" She snapped, fear flowing through her veins as easily as her half-magic blood did.
The man's next words came out slowly, and caused Violetta Hobday to feel everything in the slowest motion possible. Time seemed to stop as the four words were uttered.Her pale hands gripped the door frame as she steadied herself, stomach suddenly wrenching, and her heart quickening. "Peter Pettigrew was murdered."
He cleared his throat, feeling uneasy with the slowly wrecking girl. "All that was found, Ma'am, was a finger." It was unneeded information, that caused her to finally close down.
"Th-Thank you... for informing..." She couldn't finish as she felt herself become sick. The man asked her if she was alright, but she dismissed his polite worry and excused herself, shutting the door in his face and turning away. Her back hit the wall as she buckled over, one arm around her stomach and the other's hand over her mouth. She was wide-eyed and in shock. Peter couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. The only man she'd been with since her sixth year in Hogwarts... was gone? She'd never even been with anyone else. There was never anyone else but him.
"Peter.." She whimpered, anger flooding through her at first. How had he gotten himself killed? Who'd killed him? She would get them back if it were the last thing she did!
"You imbecile!" She cried, rubbing her face hard, "You promised me! You promised me you would always be here for me!" She screamed. Her shrill, pain filled voice echoed through the house causing her cat to scramble under the couch. She had no idea what to do. Just as quick as it'd come, her anger dissipated and she felt her eyes burn. With weak, stumbling motor movements she made her way to the bed they shared every time she was off duty, and fell into it on his side, pulling his pillow to her small frame and wrapping her pale arms around it. At the moment, the strong Auror must've seemed so very weak.
She cried out a wordless sound that was filled with anguish, tears finding their way out her eyes and to the pillow, skipping the welling-up stage. Her chest felt like it was closing in. Every gasped breath was taken into a chest of jagged edges. Her heart was cold, it hurt. Physically, her heart... her whole body hurt. Each breath was conscious effort. It hurt to breathe, it hurt for her heart to beat, her eyes to blink. Her eyes slammed shut as her fists pounded on the bed. Weak, muffled screams came from her lips into the pillow of her dead lover's.
Everyone in her life, Violetta protected. At times, she even protected her shy Peter... but he protected her. Always did Peter protect her.. and now he was gone. The person that protected her, was gone. She'd never see him again. Never get to hug him, or hold him. He'd never make her laugh again, and she'd never see his smile.
Never again would she smell his after shave in the morning after kissing him, or be able to cook him breakfast. Her cooking was dreadful, but he always ate it. She wouldn't be able to eat candy with him, or make an annual visit to Hogsmeade the weekend of Halloween and go to Honeydukes. She wouldn't be able to write him Owls, or tease him and watch his face light up with a red glow. She wouldn't get to roll her eyes at his pranks with his mates, or good-heartedly tell him that he was too old for that nonsense. The little things she never thought would come up, never thanked him for, she realized she'd never be able to see or do again. She'd never see him again. See his smile, face, eyes... His eyes, those bright eyes that brought everyone so much joy. That lit up when she'd laugh or tell him she loved him.
Never again would Violetta Hobday be able to hear, or say the words "I love you" to her Peter Pettigrew.
