It slowly dawns upon him one day.
He knew that the Order had long suspected they had a spy in their midst, but he had long assumed that it was someone else. Someone not related to them, someone not a friend, someone not as close as family. It had to be one of the ones that didn't show up often, one of the one's that couldn't risk their neck in a battle. He was dead set against it being a Marauder. He had been so close to the three of them; they had been family to him when his had disappeared. Sirius had thought that they would be close until the day they died.
But whispers of deceit had started.
It was slowly suggested that someone in their group might be responsible, well after Lily and James had been whisked away into secrecy. He didn't believe it at first; it almost blinded him to the truth.
Suddenly, people started to suspect him.
He couldn't care less. His family was all that mattered. He had been a womanizer during their time at Hogwarts, so his family had been Remus and James, Lily and Harry, and Peter of course. James was a true brother, and Harry was as good as his own pup. Lily was the shining star in his life that encouraged him to settle down, in hopes of someday having what she and James did. He would have died for them in a minute, without a second thought.
The suspicion was on Remus, too.
That wasn't why they passed him over for secret keeper. No one was sure how the magic of the Fidelius would work on a werewolf. Would it wear off with every full moon? They had never had an issue with his furry little problem, but they couldn't risk it. They had turned to Peter instead.
Somehow, the suspicion never quite fell where it belonged.
People had been blinded by their prejudices, by the very things they were trying to fight against. Had they taken a closer look, the truth might have been revealed. However, they were trapped by their follies.
One day, the shadow of a doubt was turned over.
Something had been revealed, something that only the Marauders had known. Sirius had been forced to take a closer evaluation of his beliefs, of his trust. A Marauder was the betrayer. He wasn't sure what to believe; the distress almost tore him apart.
He had his family to thank for once.
Although he had been made to study certain aspects of the Dark Arts when he was younger, he had never been so thankful for it. There was a book hidden in the recesses of the Black library, a book about werewolves. He remembered his mother teaching him out of it, about how Werewolves couldn't be trusted because they would always be loyal to their first pack, until the very last one was dead. Their first packā¦
They had been Remus' first pack.
No matter how hard Moony tried, he never had managed to suppress the werewolf within him entirely. He had a pack mentality entirely, to those who knew his secret. He would always be loyal to them, and them alone. Sirius knew that he himself would never betray his friends either, not even when faced with fates worse than death.
And then it dawned upon him, a stark horror that couldn't be contained, one that withered the very foundations he had built.
Peter was the only one left.
It was a nightmare, worse than those the bogeyman left behind in the cold, dark room of his parents; house, the ones where he wondered if he would wake to his parents torturing him. He feels so black, darker than his family's last name, darker than their souls, darker than the implications they left to tangle him up.
He had suggested the switch.
He didn't know, had never even suspected it, but he had suggested it.
Peter wouldn't have had anything to give if it hadn't been for him. Now he had it all. The location of the Potters, of his godson. He could sell out the secret for the very thing that Voldemort had so desired. The only question left: why had Peter waited so long?
The dread lay heavy in the pit of his stomach, thickening with every passing beat of his heart. He knew. Oh he knew. If it hadn't happened already, it would happen soon.
He had been there for lunch only hours before. They had been alright then. Harry had gurgled at him, reaching out his arms to be picked up. He didn't want that to be the last time he held his pup. He didn't want that to be the last hug he'd exchanged with James.
He didn't know if they were already gone.
And he mourns their loss, mourns the brother he had in everything except blood. In their case, love was thicker than blood. He sobbed over the vivacious girl that had grown up with the two of them, pulled closer by James' unknowing torment. He grieved for the godson he was unsure if he would ever see grow up, his precious pup that he'd had far too little time with, made far too few memories with. Had it been any other night, had it been any other thought, he would have headed over to check on Peter first. He would have wanted certainty before any accusing happened. He would have waited for him to return, praying that he was at the grocery or grabbing a case of butter beer. But Sirius now knew better. His distress focused him. He saw the signs of betrayal that the worm had left behind. He knew that it couldn't be any other way. He didn't know why Wormtail was willing to betray him and he probably never would. It didn't matter. Excuses would mean nothing. With his soul hardened by the nightmare Peter had wrecked, heavy from the distress, Sirius Black slung on his battle armor and picked up his wand. He was ready to fight for the only family he had left.
He doesn't know if he will make it in time.
I wrote this for the Big/Lil Sister challenge, using the prompts black, distressed, and nightmare.
I always hoped Sirius made it in time...
