I'm Spider-Man (MCU)

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The atmosphere at Malfoy Manor was fraught with tension as Peter gazed sternly at the Death Eaters, his expression unreadable. The morning sun cast long shadows over the front yard, highlighting the grim aftermath of Voldemort's demise. The Death Eaters, once formidable and unwavering, now found themselves powerless and vulnerable.

"Please, spare us!" begged a Death Eater with a trembling voice, falling to his knees. "We were under his control! It was his dark magic that made us do those terrible things!"

Another, a woman with wild eyes, shouted, "I had no choice! The Imperius Curse compelled me to follow him! I swear I never wanted any of this!"

Peter watched these people with a blank look on his face. 'Their acting is pretty good…' he thought.

Bellatrix Lestrange, however, burned with fury, her fanaticism unbroken. "You dare take him from me! The Dark Lord will rise again, and you will suffer for your insolence!"

Peter, seemingly unbothered by the pleas and threats, surveyed the Death Eaters with a cool detachment. "Save your excuses and craziness for someone else, preferably for someone who cares. Your choices were your own, and now you'll have to face the consequences."

As the Death Eaters heard this, they continued their desperate pleas, but Peter didn't seem to be affected whatsoever.

"If you kill us, then you'll be just like him…" Lucius finally spoke, his voice breaking through all of the begging from his fellow Death Eaters.

Peter interrupted with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Enough. I'm not here to debate morality with you. It's time for accountability."

The air at Malfoy Manor grew heavy as Peter, unmoved by the Death Eaters' pleas, continued his judgment. With a casual flick of his hand, he summoned Eldritch shackles that coiled around each Death Eater, rendering them immobile. Their desperate struggles against the ethereal restraints were futile, the metallic clinks of the shackles echoing through the grim silence.

Clutching the sword that had ended Voldemorts life, Peter walked among the kneeling Death Eaters. His gaze swept over them with an indifference that sent shivers down their spines. The morning sun cast an eerie glow on his face as he approached the first Death Eater.

"Please, no!" the Death Eater begged, eyes wide with terror.

Ignoring the pleas, Peter raised the sword and swiftly brought it down, severing the first head. The gruesome scene unfolded with a rhythmic cadence, each swing of the sword met with a futile attempt at defiance from the captive Death Eaters.

Watching this happen, James, Sirius, and MJ, though grim-faced, recognized the necessity of Peter's actions. It was a brutal but effective solution to a very dangerous problem.

Narcissa, relieved to be spared, watched with a mixture of fear and gratitude for her family. After all, without their interference, Peter would have most likely killed her as well.

Walburga, however, seemed oddly exhilarated by the execution, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. Her perception of Peter had changed drastically throughout the night. She went from despising him to worshipping his power and ability.

Arcturus, his face a mask of stoicism, observed the purging of his own kind. While understanding the need for decisive action, his heart couldn't help but ache at the loss of so many pureblood wizards and witches, even if they were tainted by Voldemort's influence.

Dumbledore, conflicted by his principles, could only watch in dismay. His disdain for all types of murder clashed with the reality unfolding before him. Powerless without his wand, he wrestled with the internal struggle between his ideals and the pragmatic necessity of dealing with the Death Eaters.

As Peter neared the end of the condemned, he approached Bellatrix Lestrange, her fanaticism unbroken. Narcissa, unable to contain her fear, shouted, "Stop! Please, spare her as you spared me!"

Peter paused, glancing between the pleading Narcissa, the conflicted Walburga, and the stoic Arcturus. With a regretful shake of his head, he muttered an apology before delivering the final blow to Bellatrix. The sharp sound of her head rolling away marked the end of the grim procession.

The courtyard fell into a chilling silence, broken only by the sobs of Narcissa, who was no doubt mourning the death of her sister, Bella. The severed heads of the Death Eaters lay scattered, a morbid testament to the consequences of their actions.

Peter, wiping the blood from the sword with a cold detachment, turned away from the gruesome scene. "It's done." He said as he turned to Arcturus and the rest of the Black's. "Once again, I apologize about Bella, but it was for the best. Letting malicious and twisted individuals like that off would only cause more problems in the future."

Arcturus nodded solemnly. "I understand and I don't blame you..." Sirius and Walburga nodded alongside him. Meanwhile, Narcissa sank to her knees, overwhelmed by the intensity of the ordeal.

The remaining onlookers exchanged glances, their thoughts buried in the weight of the moment.

Dumbledore, eyes heavy with regret, approached Peter with a strained voice, "This… this was not the way, Peter."

Peter met Dumbledore's gaze, his expression unyielding. "Sometimes, you don't get the luxury of choosing the way. You just do what needs to be done."

With those words hanging in the air, Peter, MJ by his side, stepped away from Malfoy Manor, "Let's get some food. I'm starving…" but just as they were about to leave, Peter heard a groan from the front of the house, and found Abraxas Malfoy still suspended and bleeding on the manor wall. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about you."

With a simple snap of his fingers, Peter telekinetically snapped the final Death Eaters neck before tossing him over to the pile of dead bodies.

Dumbledore forcibly clamped his mouth shut, holding back his lecture as he watched Peter and MJ disappear into a portal, leaving them behind to clean up the mess.

Looking at the bloody seen before him, Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder, 'How, in Merlin's name, am I supposed to explain all of this…'

In the end, Albus, Arcturus, and everyone else agreed that it would be best to just leave and keep their involvement in this hidden. And with that, the group disappeared in multiple cracks of lightning, leaving behind the gruesome and blood front yard of Malfoy Manor.

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Hours later…

The wizarding world awoke to a storm of headlines, newspapers fluttering in the hands of witches and wizards as they perused the shocking revelations.

The Daily Prophet's bold letters screamed, "GRINGOTTS BANK ROBBED: PRINCE OF GOBLIN NATION SLAIN!"

The article spoke of a source inside Gringotts confirming a successful heist and the possible plans for a counterattack to avenge their prince, who was wrongly killed in process.

Though sadly, they didn't seem to have much information on the perpetrators. Everyone inside the bank was either dead or asleep when the theft took place. But that didn't matter to the Goblin nation. They simply blamed it all on the Ministry, which would most likely start another war…

Magical magazines displayed sensational headlines: "VOLDEMORT ATTACKS POTTERS! WHO CAN STOP THE DARK LORD?" The article explained the growing rumor of the Potter family being attacked by Lord Voldemort, leaving their home in ruins, and the mysterious demise of Peter Pettigrew.

The rumors spread like wildfire, and the wizarding community buzzed with a mix of fear and intrigue.

…

In the inner sanctums of the Ministry of Magic, Aurors worked diligently to unravel the mysteries that had unfolded overnight. Reports flooded in about the attack on the Potter family and the apparent assault on Malfoy Manor.

Upon investigation, the scene at Malfoy Manor proved to be more shocking than anticipated. The bodies of Death Eaters lay strewn across the front yard, and only a few meters away, lay the lifeless form of Lord Voldemort himself, his head separated from his shoulders.

As the investigation delved deeper, the Aurors discovered the eerie aftermath of a confrontation that had unfolded with unparalleled ferocity. The Dark Lord, a symbol of terror for so many years, lay dead, his reign of fear brought to a conclusive end.

The news sent ripples through the wizarding world, and whispers of the demise of the greatest dark wizard of their time echoed through the magical communities.

In the heart of the Ministry, the Minister of Magic convened an urgent press conference. Wizards and witches, journalists and curious onlookers, gathered to hear the official statement regarding the unprecedented events.

Seated behind a podium, the Minister cleared his throat, the room hushed in anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you with news both grim and triumphant. Gringotts Bank has been robbed, and the tragic death of the Goblin Prince has sent shockwaves through our relations with the Goblin Nation. We extend our condolences for this terrible loss."

Pausing, the Minister continued, his voice taking on a tone of reluctant joy, "Yet, amidst these dark events, there is a glimmer of hope. Our brave Aurors have discovered that the dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, has met his end. The terror that haunted our world has been vanquished."

A collective gasp swept through the room, a mixture of relief and disbelief. The Minister raised his hand, calling for calm. "This victory comes at a cost. The casualties at Malfoy Manor, the attack on the Potter family, these are wounds that we must heal together. But let us take solace in the fact that the wizarding world can now begin to rebuild without the looming threat of Lord Voldemort."

The press conference concluded with a mixture of emotions. The wizarding world, still grappling with the implications of the night's events, began to process the reality of a world without the shadow of a Dark Lord constantly looming over them.

Meanwhile, in the aftermath of the revelation, the Goblins' threat of war hung heavily in the air. The wizarding government faced a delicate dance of diplomacy and reconciliation, attempting to mend the frayed ties with the Goblin Nation while celebrating the fall of their greatest adversary.

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As the headlines circulated and the magical world absorbed the seismic shifts that had occurred, Peter and MJ stood in line at a McDonalds, casually ordering some food. "We'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda…"

A/N: 1730 words :)

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