You're Gonna Wish You Never Had Met Me (Rolling in the Deep)

A/N: Written for round 11 of the Quidditch League (Keeper for Kenmare here). This week each team was given a song to pick a line and base a story on. Kenmare got Rolling in the Deep by ADELE. My prompt line was "you're gonna wish you, never had met me" so enjoy!

October 30, 1981

Peter and I were hanging around after the Order meeting was dismissed. It was a depressing time, only made more depressing by the fact that we had again discussed the subject of a traitor during the meeting, and the fact that James and Lily could no longer attend. It was dangerous for them to leave their home and Harry.

Like always, Peter was trying to lighten the mood with mindless jokes. He's a weak, talentless thing in my eyes, but he's loyal to a fault. I would never put money on him being the traitor.

"Anyways, Padfoot, since tomorrow is Halloween, we should go partying! You know, for old time's' sake?" Peter said, trying to alleviate some of the tension that was always present.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Wormtail. What if we're needed for a battle and we're too pissed to do anything? That would be bollocks. We have to act like adults now, remember? We're not schoolboys anymore," I replied.

"You're just scared I'll drink you under the table," Peter said. "With the way you've been acting lately, I bet I could drink you so far under the table that you'll wish you had never met me!"

I scoffed at his reply. "Like that's even possible, Wormy. Fine, just this once, I'll listen to you," I said. Peter gave a large grin, like it was all he could have asked for.

"So tomorrow at my place, 7 o'clock. We'll head out to that muggle bar, the Old Maiden," he said, smiling before heading off.

A fun night on the town sounded nice. I supposed there was nothing wrong with having fun on a holiday. James and his family were protected by the Fidelis charm. Nothing bad could possibly happen, I reasoned. Oh, how wrong I was.

Halloween night, 1981

I arrived at Peter's house, or rather his designated hiding place, only to find it dark, seemingly deserted. I knew for a fact that we had agreed to meet up there, rather than at the pub we were planning to go to. I barged in with my wand raised, expecting the worst, expecting signs of ambush or a struggle.

There were none. Peter's hideaway showed no signs of an attack at all. In fact, it looked almost as though he had simply left the house for a stroll or something, but that was impossible. I frantically searched the house. The spineless git was at least smart enough to know not to leave his house alone, or without leaving a note... right?

After searching the hideout top to bottom and finding nothing, I was thoroughly shaken. My brain started speeding ahead of me, thinking things I hadn't thought before. Peter was missing, no, Peter had left without a trace. I knew someone in the Order was a traitor, but Peter had never crossed my mind.

My next actions were almost thoughtless. I jumped onto my motorbike and sped to Godric's Hollow. I had to put my mind at ease. I was so certain that Remus was the traitor... had I been mistaken? Why else would Peter have left his home so suddenly?

Screeching to a halt in front of James and Lily's house, I couldn't believe my eyes. The little cottage they called home was demolished, parts of it only piles of rubble. I could hear Harry's cries, but I was frozen in place. I couldn't move.

I have no idea how long I stood there like an idiot in front of my best friend's demolished house before I heard a pop, signaling the arrival of another person. I turned my head to see Hagrid approaching the house, entering and heading up to Harry's room. That knocked me out of my stupor. I rushed inside, only to be frozen yet again.

Lying on the floor was my best friend, eyes glazed in death, wand lying forgotten on the coffee table halfway across the room. Silent tears travelled down my cheeks as I stared at the lifeless body of my best friend. I fell to my knees and stayed that way until Hagrid appeared again. I looked up to see the half-giant cradling a small bundle which was crying loudly. He walked over and patted my shoulder in sympathy.

"They were... good people... your friends. They died (hic) valiantly... defending what (hic) mattered most. The Order... stands with you (hic) in your loss," Hagrid choked out.

I lifted my eyes to look at his face. "Lily too?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer. Hagrid nodded silently. I slowly stood, steeling myself to the pain. My godson needed me.

"Hagrid, let me take Harry... I'm his godfather, I should be the one to take care of him," I reasoned. However, Hagrid just shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm here on Dumbledore's orders. He's made arrangements for little Harry to stay with Lily's sister, Petunia. Harry will be safe there," Hagrid said.

Holding back my tears, I quietly nodded. Then, I handed Hagrid the keys to my motorbike. "At least take him with this... it flies smoothly and will get you there without any discomfort. I won't need it myself anyway," I said.

The man let out a gargantuan sob, before bending over slightly and giving me a one-armed hug. "You're a good man, Sirius. I'll bring it back once Harry's safe," he said, before turning and taking my godson away from me.

I couldn't protect James and Lily. I couldn't protect Harry. I had made the wrong choice. Peter had been the traitor all along... and I had trusted him. The spineless, little rat had sold out my best friend to You-Know-Who... he had made arrangements to have fun on the very day our best friend was to die! By now, he would know that I knew what he'd done... but mark my words, I would find him and make him pay.

November 1, 1981

It took me most of the night and into the morning before I finally tracked him down. Of course, he had to be in the middle of a muggle street, but it was of no matter. One carefully placed curse and it would all be over. I gripped my wand tightly in my right hand.

"Pettigrew!" I shouted, causing him to freeze. "Do you remember what you said to me the other night? After the meeting? We had made plans to go out drinking last night. You were going to drink me under the table? I was going to wish I'd never met you?"

I glared at him as passing muggles stayed clear of the two of us. Likely, they believed I was deranged and would pull a gun on the rat. Oh how right they would be to believe that. However, it seemed that Peter regained his wits somehow, as he drew his own wand.

"That's absolutely rich coming from you, Black! Why would I go drinking with a traitor like you?" he replied. I was at my wit's end with him.

"Oh, now it'll be you who wishes they had never met me, you filthy little rat!" I yelled back. By now, we had gained quite an audience, wizards and muggles alike. I didn't care who saw. I would show the world who he really was, a backstabbing traitor, even if I had to go to Azkaban to do it! But I couldn't have predicted his next move... no one could have...

"Says the man who betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord! I know you were their secret keeper, Black!" Peter shouted, and before I could reply, as I was raising my wand, a giant explosion occurred on Peter's side of the street.

When the smoke cleared, I simply stared. Lying on the ground were no less than twelve muggles, all obviously dead, as well as several that were injured or scraped up in the explosion. Sitting in the middle of the road was a single finger, and scurrying off into a nearby alley was a large rat. The worthless, talentless git had somehow outwitted me. I couldn't help but laugh. In fact, I couldn't stop laughing. I had lost my best friend at the hand of another of my best friends while believing my other best friend had been the traitor. With Peter's final words, the world would think that I was the secret keeper who betrayed James, not him. Remus would never speak to me again. It was a lot to take in.

I hardly noticed when they clamped me in irons, or when they took my wand, or even when I was escorted to Azkaban by three aurors. It never registered when I stopped laughing and was just silently crying. It just happened, and I just felt the pain. I had lost my three best friends in under 24 hours.

Peter was right, and his words haunted me the entire time I was in Azkaban. On the night of October thirty-first, of the year 1981, he made it so I wished I had never met him. My tears wouldn't stop falling, as my mind fell deep into the depths of my sorrow.