A/N: A long-awaited update of Hermione Granger is a Whore is coming soon, never fear. In the meantime, I penned this during a boring summer class.

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"Padfoot, wake up! Padfoot, c'mon, wake up."

"Mmngh, what the bloody fuck–oh, hey Pete," a disgruntled Sirius Black grumbled, and sat up in his bed to find a quivering Peter Pettigrew staring urgently down at him.

"Death eaters, death eaters in the garden, an attack–"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Wormtail, just spit it out."

The rat-like man shook his head and inhaled deeply. "There was an attack. Well, no attack, a close c-c-c-call, they almost came across Godric's Hollow, they know... they said they knew who..." His mind drifted to what he'd been ordered to say.

The words ran through his mind like a whirlwind, the words he'd memorized, the words he'd been fed. He practiced them for nights on end, just as the Dark Lord had prescribed, but now it seemed that real life was a bit more complex than following orders. But following orders was his forte–following the orders of then men he'd been commissioned to deceive, that is. The men he loved. All he wanted was a piece of the power, some recognition and respect–was this worth it? He didn't mind them all too much, in truth, but when the Dark Lord started with his rhetoric, he tended to forget how much they meant to him. The Dark Lord had a way of making everybody forget when those silky-chocolate words rolled off his tongue with such precision and ease. When he got so angry with those fiery eyes boring into his followers, boring into their souls, telling them what they really wanted, telling Peter what he really wanted, which was, of course, for his friends to stop telling him what he wanted.

But there was another truth the Dark Lord made clear to him, for the Dark Lord was Truth and he so generously dispensed his knowledge. That truth was the reason for which Peter would ultimately go through with it. His Greatness mocked him, taunted him, told him that he'd never do it because he didn't have the spine. That he never had. And all Peter wanted to do was to prove him wrong, to prove everyone wrong, for once. He could follow through, he'd show them. He was brave, too. He could be brave. He would be brave.

"They said they knew wh-wh-who Lily and James' secret keeper was. I heard them say 'Sirius Black.'" There. Just like that. It was over. He did it.

"What?" Sirius roared, leaping from his bed and throwing on a tee-shirt. "We have to go!"

Peter paused. Of course this was going to be difficult, but he could handle it. He would prove he could. "No," he stated firmly.

Sirius shot him a desperate glance. His voice faltered as he whispered, "What?"

"If you go," Peter began slowly, voice shaking. "They'll get you. They're everywhere, Padfoot. And they said they'd do... that they'd do anything," he finished gravely.

"Yeah, well, I'll do anything." Peter smiled at Sirius' reckless fire. "They would incapacitate me before they could get anything out of me by the Cruciatus. And you know well I'd die for Prongs. Wouldn't you?"

That was the problem with Padfoot. He always went to extremes, did the impossible, and expected everyone else to do the same. If they didn't, they lost worth forever in his eyes–completely unredeemable–despite the fact that most actions were utterly inconceivable in the first place. Not everyone could be a Sirius Black. In fact, most of the time, only Sirius Black could be Sirius Black.

He would want Padfoot as his own secret keeper.

"I would, Sirius. You know I would," he lied. "But there are some things we can't c-c-c-control. You-Know-Who is the best Legilimens the world has ever known."

"I don't give a damn what kind of Legilimens he is. I won't crack. I can't crack."

Peter was growing impatient with Sirius' vast naivety and nonchalant attitude toward the Dark Lord's powers. Simultaneously, he was growing nervous. Of course he should have expected this brazenness, but he'd hoped it would have been easier. "But... Veritaserum," he offered, exasperated.

"I'll kill myself before they shove any of that down my throat."

"They'll have your wand, they'll have everything, they'll do anything. Powerful wizards have made their greatest mistakes by underestimating their enemies. Yours is the most powerful dark wizard there ever was. Padfoot, you know this. You've dealt with them. You know... you know what they're capable of."

Sirius stared blankly toward him at a loss for words. It was a look of utter dejection, detached and heroic defeat. The weight of a thousand worlds crashing on his shoulders, and he could do nothing but stare into the oblivion that was left. He was so helpless it hurt Peter. Almost enough for him to wonder why he was doing this, why he would ever need to cause this much pain in his friend.

But that was just it. Padfoot wasn't his friend. The Dark Lord told him so. Padfoot didn't care about him, only about Moony and James and Lily and their brat. He never did. The Dark Lord showed him the Truth, and he was grateful. He would do anything for his master, to repay him for the services he'd wrought unto him.

"Maybe," he said shakily, grasping his chance like a child does a play toy, "if we switched, we could... we could protect them." He paused carefully. "They wouldn't suspect me, and plus, I'm not half bad an Occlumens," he admitted sheepishly.

Sirius gave him another pathetic, desperate look and nodded slowly. Then his nod became more vigorous and he offered his friend a watery smile. "Yeah, you're right. Let's do it." A terse, dry laugh followed. "I'm shit for occlumency, anyway."

Peter stared at him anxiously. This was it. He did it. The Dark Lord would be so pleased. What now?

Sirius spoke. "Should we tell Prongs?"

Peter's heart leapt and he shook his head vehemently. "No," he said with a bit too much force. "No," he repeated, getting a hold of himself. "There's no time."

Peter looked at Sirius with pleading eyes, preceding Sirius' own gulp and nod. "Right again, Wormtail." Sirius looked around nervously, but to no avail; he failed to spot the only intruder, his friend. And it broke Peter's heart to think that the only man who had complete trust in him, he would betray. "Let's do this."

Peter nodded his head and waddled over to the place where Sirius sat, head in his hands.

"Let's just get it over with," Sirius mumbled, a hint of uncertainty in his voice that made Peter nervous.