Tough Peter (Was Real Wizards Aren't Squeamish )

[ssk7882]

No: HPFGUIDX 34525

Cindy wrote:

>  Oh, gee.  What was that weird fluttering sensation?  It felt
>  suspiciously like a pang of sympathy for Peter.

<For just a moment, a Gleam of Triumph may be seen in Elkins' eyes>

<It is quickly suppressed.>

Oh, I shouldn't worry too much about that odd little sensation if I 
were you, Cindy.  It's really only when you start to feel the blood 
trickling down that you need to become concerned, you know.

Trust me.


>  Is Peter Tough?  Yes, because he cut off his own hand and 
>  considering that this probably hurt a bit, he handled it as well 
>  as could be expected.  No, because he does a fair amount of 
>  sniveling in the Shrieking Shack.  Yes, because he cut off his own 
>  finger.  No, because he does a fair amount of sniveling in the 
>  graveyard.  Yes, because he outsmarted Sirius.  The dial on the 
>  Toughmeter is whipping around because it can't get a reading on 
>  Peter at all.  I have to think of some other way to size up Peter.

Problem is, you've got two different types of Toughness there, maybe 
even more.

If you mean Tough in the sense of Able To Do What Needs To Be Done, 
then I'd say that he's extremely tough.  When he has a job to do, he
does it.  He may not like it much, but he does not balk and he does
not hesitate.  He gets it done.  It's not just that he manages to cut 
off his own hand that impresses me, frankly, but that he cuts off his 
own hand in the middle of what looks to be a rather tricky piece of 
ritual magic -- and then, by God, he *completes* it.  He may be 
sobbing in pain, but he doesn't allow himself to actually *collapse* 
until he's finished the job.  So, yeah.  In that way, I think that 
he's pretty tough.

Or, if by Tough you mean "capable of swift and decisive action, even
when it places him at personal risk," well...he's Tough in that way,
too.  Peter's not really a coward at all, in the most common 
definition of that term.  His framing of Sirius took a lot of guts, 
yes, but his escape at the end of PoA?  Now, *that* required nerves of
*steel!*  

I know that if *I'd* just had as narrow a brush with death as Peter 
had, and then I'd been told "well...okay, Elkins.  We'll take you up 
to the castle now.  But just so you know: if you so much as *think* 
about transforming, then we really *are* going to kill you.  You got 
that?" then I would never, not ever, not in a million years have been
able to seize an unexpected opportunity for escape the way that Peter
did.  Nope.  No way.  Not even to avoid Azkaban.  Not even if I 
thought they were going to give me the *Kiss* for what I'd done.  I 
still wouldn't be able to bring myself to take the risk.  I'd just be 
far too cowed.

But Peter isn't.  He isn't nerveless, and he isn't unwilling to take 
risks.  He's Tough in that way, too.

I think that what might be giving Cindy her headache here, though, is
that Peter is definitely *not* Tough in the sense of being stoic.  He
isn't a stoic at all.  He lacks pride, and I don't really think that 
he has very much in the way of emotional control, either.  In short, 
he's a cry-baby.  I get the impression that he's simply not terribly 
concerned with that type of personal dignity.  If pleading or 
snivelling or grovelling seems likely to help him, then he feels no 
particular shame in doing so; and he's not going to bother to try to 
choke back his screams or sobs or moans when Voldie smacks him with a 
Cruciatus, or when he's just cut his own hand off with some evil Dark 
ritual blade.  Why on earth should he?  It really *hurts,* dammit!

And you know, I've some respect for that, actually.  It takes a 
certain type of courage to display so little pride.

I also do think that Peter's a moral coward.  But I don't know if
that has any bearing on "Toughness."  It certainly does on the 
question of *courage,* but that's a slightly different matter.


Donna, who can picture Peter crying and grovelling, while the inner 
Peter is thinking *Suckers!*, wrote:

> After reading both Elkins' and Cindy's posts, I think Peter is 
> tough.  I see Peter's snivelling as something that's worked very 
> well for him in the past, so why wouldn't he keep using it?  

I would agree that he certainly is a manipulative little man, and 
I'm sure that he knows how to turn on the waterworks when he thinks
that it might get him something.  I don't know if I believe that's 
all there is to the snivelling, though.  

In the Shrieking Shack, Peter really doesn't seem to be very skilled 
at controlling his fear responses, even when doing so *would* have
benefitted his cause.  His sweating and trembling and darty eye 
movements and the like don't inspire Harry's confidence in the 
veracity of his tale, and I doubt that they helped him much with 
Remus either.  I suspect that he's just not very good at controlling 
such things.  Maybe he can switch the waterworks *on* at will, but I 
somehow doubt that he knows how to turn them *off.*

> When Sirius cornered him after the Potters' deaths, he judged that 
> it wouldn't work on Sirius on this occasion and didn't even try. He 
> worked very coolly, cutting his finger off, and accusing Sirius 
> without hesitating. If he was a true coward, I think he couldn't
> have helped crying and begging first, claiming to be under the 
> Imperius Curse.

I'll bet he was shaking, though.  And probably sweating.  And 
breathing hard.

His apparent terror right before he performs Voldie's rebirthing
ritual serves no manipulative purpose that I can see, and yet he's
quite clearly scared out of his gourd there.  I agree with you that 
he's both manipulative and Tougher Than He Looks, but I don't think 
that he's exactly on top of his physiological fear responses.

But on this topic, I've always wondered why Peter didn't take that 
approach with Sirius in the first place.  He already knows that 
Voldemort has mysteriously vanished, and he may even already know
that the other DEs are starting to mutter things about him having
betrayed their master to his doom.  So wouldn't you think that it 
would make more sense, from a strategic standpoint, to try to get 
back in with the winning side while the getting's good, rather than
going into hiding for thirteen years?

Do you think Sirius really would have killed him right there on the
street if he'd burst into tears and choked out some sob story about
how the evil Death Eaters tortured him horribly, and hard as he tried 
he just couldn't withstand them, and so he betrayed Lily and James, 
and now he'll never forgive himself for being such a useless, 
hopeless, impotent wretch, and would Sirius just kill him now, 
please, quickly, and put him out of his guilt-racked misery?

Hell.  That's what I think that *I* would have done, had I been in 
Peter's position.

The fact that Peter didn't go for that approach makes me suspect 
that he figured that Sirius probably really would kill him if he 
tried it -- which in turn makes me think some rather nasty things 
about Sirius Black and his infamous temper, honestly. (Sorry, Cindy.)


> Although he does whine in front of Voldemort, I don't believe he 
> does it with him for the same reason. I think it's a useful 
> strategy because it draws V's contempt.  V is too dismissive of him 
> to see him as much of a threat (unlike Malfoy). 

He's not all that bad when he speaks to Voldemort, actually. I mean, 
except for those times when Voldemort is actually threatening him, or 
torturing him, or ignoring him while he slowly bleeds to death...

Well, okay, so that's most of the times that we've seen them 
together.  But still.  When Peter actually wants something from 
Voldemort -- when he's trying to convince him to use someone other 
than Harry in the rebirthing ritual, for example, or when he's 
registering his doubts over the plans as they stand, or even when he's
reminding him of his promise in the graveyard -- he actually uses a
comparatively normal tone.  It's not exactly dignified, but it isn't
his full-blown Snivel Mode either.

I think he's smart enough to realize that if the tone gets too 
snivelly, no one really listens to the content.  


Back to Cindy, who asked:

> What the heck made him betray the Marauders?

I tend to go along with the poor opinion of his ex-friends on this
one.  I think that he wanted to be on the winning side of the war, 
and he guessed wrong.


> Why was he so reluctant to proceed with the plan in the beginning
> of GoF?

I'm not sure.  But it certainly was a rather...far-fetched plan, 
wasn't it?  Rather baroque, and over-complicated, and full of places
where things could have gone horribly awry?  And it involved relying
on the abilities of young Barty Crouch, who as it turned out was quite
competent in his role, but who was also a complete and utter lunatic 
who'd spent the past ten years locked up in his father's house, under 
the Imperius, and wrapped up in a *cloak.*

I wouldn't have had much confidence in the plan either, truth be told.
I mean, it's one of those crazed villain plans, isn't it?  It's a 
nutter plan.  You'd have to be as mad as young Crouch to think it a 
good plan.  You'd have to be as crazed as...well, as Voldemort.

But of course, poor Peter couldn't really say *that*, now, could he?  
So he did his best.


> Does he *really* want Voldemort restored, or is he just doing that
> because he has nowhere else to go?

Well, after the events of PoA he probably figured that not only Sirius
and Remus, but also the Ministry of Magic would be out looking to 
hunt him down.  It probably didn't even occur to him that the 
Ministry would fail to acquit Sirius.  So from his perspective, there 
are going to be Aurors out looking for him, and now they'll all know 
that he's an animagus, they'll have descriptions of his rat form as
well as his human form, and...

Yeah.  I think he assumes that Voldie getting restored and seizing 
power is just about his only chance of ever having any sort of life.
Sadly, he's probably right.

Also, I suspect that after thirteen years of life as Scabbers -- 
being manhandled by grubby little Weasley children, shoved into their 
lint-filled pockets, fed on table scraps, used as the test subject for
the twins' pranks, dressed up in Ginny's doll's clothes -- it had to 
feel good to finally have someone to *talk* to for a change.  

I mean, okay, so that person happens to be the Great Evil Dark Lord 
Who Must Not Be Named, who's currently trapped in an only partially
corporated state.  It's not really like having a *friend* or 
anything.  It's not even as if the two of you ever have real 
conversations.  Mainly what happens is that he says things, and then 
you agree with them -- if you know what's good for you.  He's abusive 
and contemptuous and cruel, and you know full well that he doesn't 
really like you -- he doesn't like *anyone,* and even if he did, it 
sure wouldn't be *you* -- and in fact, he's probably planning on 
killing you the instant you no longer serve his purposes.  

But all the same, you know, at least it's adult company.

And besides, right now he actually *needs* you.  Which is kind of 
nice, you know.  Someone needing you.  Especially when it's someone 
who may someday be Very Powerful Indeed.

Pathetic, it is.  Just pathetic.  But Peter certainly does get sulky 
enough whenever Voldemort starts going on about his *good* servants, 
his *loyal* servants, doesn't he?  Petulant, even.  Jealous.  I think 
he's headed for empty nest syndrome ("My little Baby Who Must Not Be 
Named, all grown up, doesn't need me anymore...").  He's going to be 
reminiscing wistfully about those fine old pre-Bertha Jorkins days, 
when it was just the two of them (well...and the snake), out there in 
the Albanian wilderness...


--- Elkins, getting slightly loopy as the hour grows late.