A Worm's Tale

by Vander Delton

The story of Peter's betrayal. oneshot

Well hello there, I'm not perfectly sure what to say, but this is the second Harry Potter fan fic that I've completed and basically as the very short summary said (sorry about that) this is a one-shot fic that takes you trhough Wormtail's betrayal that lead to Voldemort's disembodiment for thirteen years. If you read my last fic and liked it then you'll most definitely like this one and I welcome my old fans back, if you didn't read my last fic then I still think you'll like this and I say welcome to my new fans, I hope. As you all probably know we were left with a pretty undetailed and patchy story from books about what exatly happened, so please, if you disagree with something just keep that in mind. So, without further ado, A Worm's Tale, enjoy.

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"But are you sure, Padfoot!?" A man questioned his companion in an anxious tone as the two of them walked vigorously down a narrow London back-alley. The man was tall with short, unkempt jet-black hair and brilliant blue eyes that he covered with thin-framed, round glasses.

They walked on further some ways before the man called Padfoot replied, as if considering if his answer was really the truth.

"Oh course I'm sure!" The second man, Padfoot, answered finally in a slightly insulted manner. He was a little shorter than his fellow, had black hair as well but his was longer, down to his shoulders and unlike the other man's it was sleek and shiny; his face bore no glasses and could only be described as truly handsome. "I've told you, Prongs! I don't believe I can be trusted with something as important as this!"

The first man, Prongs, stepped in front of Padfoot and began walking backwards so they could speak face to face.

"So if we are to believe that you can not be trusted with our task then how are we to place our trust in your recommendation?" Prongs said with the air of a man whom wished to annoy the one he was speaking to.

Padfoot glared at him for a moment, then side-stepped him so he no longer had to look upon his face as they spoke.

"That is not really a question, Prongs!" Padfoot said angrily, his friend now walking beside him again.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Padfoot!"

"You know perfectly what I mean!" Padfoot said, kicking a bit of rubbish out of his way. "It's not that you don't trust my judgment, it's that you don't trust Wormtail, not with something of this importance and your trust for me and your distrust of Wormtail are in conflict with each other!"

"Alright, yes, you're bang on target!" said Prongs, his question having led to his own annoyance rather than Padfoot's. "But can you really blame me? He's never exactly been the most polished broom in the closet, has he?!"

"Shh, keep your voice down, who knows the likes that might be lurking around here!" Padfoot said, looking around cautiously. "I admit that he has never been very bright, in fact, he's always been a bit of a dull person; but he knows how to keep a secret, he knows which side is the right one and he would never tell anyone anything of importance that he shouldn't!"

"Well I'm glad you have such confidence in him but I can't say as the rest of us do. And what about Dumbledore, he believes you are our best candidate for the job, he didn't recommend Wormtail!"

"Dumbledore be damned! He is not me and the last time I checked he has not led my life and therefore is no judge of if I am to truly be trusted or not!"

"Do you even hear yourself!" said Prongs, stepping in front of Padfoot again and this time stopping dead, halting both their progress. "Damning Dumbledore? Are you mad? For all that is good still left in this world; he's Dumbledore, we would all be dead if not for him!"

Padfoot did not say anything. He looked to be considering Prongs' words carefully before rendering his answer.

"You're correct, most if not all of us would almost assuredly be dead if not for him, I two or three times by now." Padfoot said more calmly than he had all that night. "I trust Dumbledore, I do, but he can be wrong like any other man and I don't think that I can be trusted, not if I were to be captured, it is as simple as that! So you're only choice is Wormtail because I will not allow myself to be made to keep your secret."

The two men stared at one another for a short while before either said anything more.

"Very well." said Prongs, defeated. "I will discuss it with Lily and try to convince her it is the best course of action."

"Thank you Prongs." Padfoot said in a relieved tone. "You will not regret this decision, I swear that to you."

"There is one more thing, Padfoot." Prongs said, stopping him as he tried to carry on towards their destination. "In return I want you to do a favor for me."

"Name it! I would do anything for you!"

"I want you to swear to me that despite what might happen from here on that you will control yourself a great deal more and not be so reckless."

"This coming from the famous Quidditch Captain who was know as one of the most reckless people to ever attend Hogwarts?!" Padfoot said, slightly affronted; his face growing grave.

"Yes, I was entirely too reckless while I was at school and even a few years after, we both were. The difference between us, Padfoot, is that I learned to think about my actions first and grew out of my recklessness as I got older and entered my adult years, you did not!"

Padfoot glared at Prongs before pushing him out of his way and continuing to the end of the small alley; Prongs followed.

As they emerged from the alley onto the open and exposed street they both drew from their robes, wands, holding them at their sides; readying themselves for a fight should it come.

The two moved swiftly along the side of the mist filled road, treading the path they had switched twice that week alone, keeping leery eyes skinned for anything that might appear amiss. Neither spoke, for reasons other than not wanting to alert any that might be near to their presence. It was rare anymore that one could find a single safe street anywhere in England, let alone in London.

After some fifteen nerve tasking minutes, involving avoiding muggle eyes and constantly changing direction; Padfoot and Prongs arrived at the muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron Tavern.

They flattened their backs against the outside wall of the tavern, one on either side of the hidden door; their cloaks blending them flawlessly into the wall behind them. Prongs looked to his left, eyeing the seemingly deserted street, Padfoot surveyed the right; neither saw a thing and so Prongs proceeded to turn to the door and tap it in a precise succession.

An instant later the sounds of several heavy metal devices unlocking, sliding and slamming to a stop rang out and the almost undetectable door swung open. Without hesitation the men dashed inside and the door closed as soon as they had done so.

Prongs turned around just in time to see Tom, the barman with many a tooth missing, utter a spell and see four thick steel bars slid quickly out of the top of the door jam, hit the threshold and get locked in place by large pad locks that magically closed around them. A further six bars came zooming out of the right side of the door jam and slammed into the left and were locked in place as the first four had been.

Tom muttered another spell that caused the door and the bars to glow bright red for a moment then he turned to greet his guests.

"I'm sorry we're late, Tom." said Prongs before Tom could say anything.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I'm jus' glad you lot got here at all, though another ten minutes and I would 'ave alerted Dumbledore."

"Come help me with this, Prongs." Padfoot said, having already moved a table and a rug in the far corner of the pub and trying unsuccessfully to lift a trap door.

"Right." said Prongs and he hurried to lend assistance.

Together, and with a large amount of effort, they opened the trap door and turned to face Tom once again.

"Which one is it tonight?" asked Padfoot.

"Second from the end on the left." said Tom. "And you two better hurry!"

"Thank you for your help, Tom, the Order is most appreciative." Prongs said as he stepped onto the top of the earthy stairs after Padfoot.

"Don' mention it, jus' get going!"

Prongs nodded and leapt down the stairs two at a time, trying to catch up with Padfoot; the trap door slamming shut behind him. Once he had reached the bottom he walked quickly along the dim passage of earth shelves with dozens of old items placed on them the likes of old boots, broken watches, yellowing Daily Prophets, and many more things that just looked like rubbish.

"Back here, I've found it!" Padfoot called out from the end of the tunnel some twenty feet away from Prongs.

"Well of course you have, he told us right where it was, didn't he?" Prongs joked.

Padfoot was standing next to a smashed pair of glasses and wearing an irritable look on his face.

"This is no time for jokes, we're almost twelve minutes late; Lily has got to be worried out of her mind." Padfoot scorned.

"On three then!" Prongs said, he and Padfoot each reaching out a hand towards the glasses. "One – Two – Three!"

Padfoot and Prongs each placed their hands on the glasses and both felt as if he had been hooked somewhere behind the navel and flung skyward.

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"Come with me!" ordered a white-blonde haired man, his unusual hair pulled into a tight ponytail that hung between his shoulder blades; his face pointed and sneering in dislike.

The person he had ordered rose shaking from their chair in the corner of the small hall where they had just previously been cowering with fear and biting their fingernails back so far that most of their fingers were bleeding. The person walked slowly forward as the man continued to sneer with dislike at them; clearly thinking that this person was unworthy to be in his sight let alone in this hallowed place.

"Come with me!" the man ordered again, malice in his voice for this person.

The person followed, almost unwillingly, shaking more with every step they reluctantly took.

This person, with the hood of their dirt-brown cloak pulled down over their face, who would rather stare at the floor and at the feet of their guide rather than at their destination that lay at the end of the various hallways they were taking, was a short and squat man; if he could be called as such. A pathetic excuse for a man would have been more accurate if one had the ability to see through his cloak and indeed to his facade of an exterior and see his true appearance and the utterly fragile mind that lay behind.

This man was not brave, he had never been; he had always simply weaseled his way close to those whom he knew could protect him from those he disliked or who disliked him. It was more serious than that now, however. Wanting protection from those whom were bigger bullies than his own friends was a thing of his childhood when he had attended school. Now, he knew which side he must take if he wished to continue living. His present "friends" would not be able to protect him from the likes of the most powerful wizard in modern times. Good and evil meant nothing; they were mere words to describe differing views on how to live one's life. And they surely meant nothing to him, all that concerned him was to be close enough to those that could keep him alive by staying in their good graces so as not to be sent into dangerous places where his old friends would kill him easier than breath. But he would have to keep it a secret; at least until the time was right when he no longer had to concern himself with their knowledge of his betrayal. But would they not take the same measures to protect their lives if they were not naive enough to think this fight could be won for their side?

"In there, and make it fast!" the white-blonde haired man snarled at the smaller man, presenting a door in front of them. "The Dark Lord has waited quite long enough for you, what with your hesitance to come and your unacceptably slow pace!"

The smaller man made a high-pitched squeaking noise something like a rat caught in a trap. The other man opened his mouth to say something more but did not as a different voice spoke softly, yet clearly, from inside the room behind the closed door.

"That will be enough Malfoy." The voice said, it was a bit raspy and had a definite hissing quality to it. "Come, Mr. Pettigrew!" The voice said this last part while raising its volume considerably.

The smaller man, Mr. Pettigrew, gave a violent shiver of fear and took a slow step towards the door; returning his forefinger to his mouth and chewing on what was left of the fingernail on his badly bleeding finger.

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Padfoot and Prongs landed lightly on their feet with a small thud in the middle of a dark, fire lit parlor. The parlor was considerably large with a fireplace six feet in width and in breadth which contained a roaring, though oddly dim, fire, the many windows were heavily curtained making it impossible to peer in or out of them; and it was furnished with extravagant leather armchairs and sofas, and for each sitting spot, of which there were many, there was a matching footrest.

"Well it is about bloody time!" A woman with dark red hair said in a heated whisper; coming down the elaborate staircase twelve feet in front of the men with something bundled in blankets over her shoulder. "You two had me worried out of my mind! I had no way of knowing why in the name of Merlin you were more than ten minutes late!" the woman continued in her fierce whisper; stepping off the stairs and giving the two men an even fiercer stare.

"We're sorry Lily, didn't mean to worry you, it just took longer than we had expected." said Prongs, glancing over to Padfoot, knowing full well that if they hadn't been arguing they would have arrived on time.

"And do you two plan to just stand there letting bits of that fall on my rug all night?" The woman motioned with her head at the smashed glasses in their hands; parts of the lenses of which had been dropping to the rug below their feet.

Padfoot and Prongs instantly let go of the glasses and they fell to the floor, scattering more pieces, both having expected the other to take it. Prongs quickly scooped up the glasses and all its pieces and tossed them onto a nearby foot rest.

"We hadn't, no." said Prongs. "And the last time I checked it was my rug."

"It became mine as soon as you married me." The woman replied, only half joking.

Prongs smiled at his wife and at the bundle over her shoulder, his son, and for a moment he forgot about the dreadful war and the conversation he had had with his best mate that night. Then, as quickly as it had come, his smile vanished from his face to make way for a frown.

"Lily darling," Prongs began tentatively in a foreboding tone. "I need to talk to you about something for a moment, upstairs."

His wife nodded, picking up on his tone and hesitation.

"Sirius, would you look after Harry for a moment?" asked Lily, and Padfoot walked over and took the bundle from her shoulder and cradled it in his arms, beholding the sleeping face of his Godson. "Let's go talk then." She added an unreadable look on her face as she waited for her husband.

"Good luck," Padfoot wished Prongs under his breath as he passed.

Lily and Prongs ascended the stairs out of the room and escaped from Padfoot's sight and, for the most part, his earshot.

Padfoot sat gently down in an armchair close to the fire, careful not to wake the baby in his arms. Once again he looked at the delightful face of his Godson; thinking that no one could have asked for a better combination of features from their parents than little Harry. His face and hair even at such a young age were unmistakably his father's and his eyes, though presently closed, were the same vivid green that his mother possessed. And if looks were any measure he would inevitably be as brave and adventurous as both of his parents and as skilled on the Quidditch pitch as his father; though he hoped that he broke slightly fewer rules when he was in school than they had during their time there; not that it hadn't been fun. He knew he would undoubtedly get some scars on the way, all children did and Prongs had gotten dozens in his youth and more since, but if he were as lucky as his father he would never have a single scar to tarnish his handsome face.

Padfoot chuckled hollowly. He got such little time any more to just sit and think about anything, let alone such a silly thing as how looks would determine a child's behavior as they grew.

Then, suddenly, Padfoot's head jerked toward the ceiling as Lily's voice grew suddenly louder and more heated and he knew Prongs had gotten to the point of the conversation, but their voices were still muffled too much for him to make out what exactly they were saying; he knew too that that would change if they went on much longer.

As he brought his head back down his eyes caught on the large coat of arms above the fireplace that was, along with practically everything else in this house, very impressive.

It was not the first time he had seen it, not by far, but he had always liked it, the two crossed ivory wands behind a highly polished golden shield which bore a roaring lion in one corner, a rearing stag in the opposing corner and wands performing different spells in the last two corners. Best of all he liked the banner across the top which in bold, curvy letters, made of white gold, bore the surname of 'Potter'.

Lily's voice rose in volume again and now Padfoot could hear clearly what she was saying. " – I'm sure you trust anything Sirius tells you but I'm slightly more concerned with the safety – " Lily stopped there meaning that Prongs had interrupted her, yet Padfoot could not hear what he was saying. As long as he'd know either of them it had always been more Lily's tendency to yell at the top of her voice rather than Prongs, not that he wouldn't if he really got angry.

Padfoot sighed and tried to ignore it as Lily began yelling again, returning the favor of being cut off. How this reminded him of his younger years, it seemed Lily had been yelling at James for as long as they had known each other. James being Prongs' proper name of course ,Prongs, like Padfoot, being a silly nickname from their school days that had never been left behind. Another thing that had not been left behind was his fondness of James' home over his own. He did not think there was a place he preferred more with the possible exception of Hogwarts.

Many minutes passed with Padfoot trying to ignore the argument continuing in the room above his head; Harry stirring every so often but never waking.

Finally, after numerous minutes Padfoot did not bother to count, the yelling ceased and in it's stead he heard two pairs of feet walking across the ceiling to the stairs to purvey their decision to him. Whether it be according to his advisement or otherwise he would have to accept it; neither Lily nor James were likely to change their minds no matter how much discussion occurred.

"You've made a decision then?" said Padfoot, turning his head to look at them.

"Yes, we have." Lily said with a small glare at Padfoot, walking swiftly in front of Prongs.

"And?" said Padfoot a moment later when Lily did not say anything more and rather simply took her son from his arms.

"And, we've decided to take your advice." Prongs said when it became clear Lily was not going to say anything more. "Though we are not wholly convinced of Wormtail's worthiness we do trust your judgment and therefore are prepared to trust him with our safety."

"Excellent!" Padfoot exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "How about a drink to celebrate?"

"The two of you may do what you like, I am going to take Harry to bed and then turn in myself." said Lily.

"I think I will do the same, and I think you would do well to go to bed within the hour as well, Sirius." said Prongs and Padfoot nodded reluctantly, looking crest fallen, he had not had a good drink with Prongs in ages.

"Besides, I don't see this as much of something that should be celebrated!" Lily said darkly.

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"What is it that you think you can offer Lord Voldemort?" said a man with deathly white skin, blazing scarlet eyes, a flattened nose that was more like a snake than a human, and an utter lack of hair anywhere on his smooth head. He walked around another man curled towards his knees; awaiting his answer.

"WELL PETTIGREW!" the first man shouted. "I want my answer!"

"P-p-p-please m-m-m-my L-l-lord…" The man on the floor stuttered hesitantly. "…m-m-my f-friends c-call me W-w-wor-wormtail."

"I am not your friend you insolent worm!" the deathly white man burst angrily, turning and kicking Pettigrew with a surprising amount of strength and propelling him over onto his backside. "I am your Lord and Master, and never forget that!"

The man drew a long strip of wood from inside his robes that was his wand, pointed it at Pettigrew and the next moment Pettigrew was writhing on the floor screaming in terrible pain.

The man whom had referred to himself as Voldemort laughed as he looked on at the man he had put into so much pain.

A minute or two passed with this evil man, Voldemort, keeping his wand trained on the pathetic convulsing mess that was Pettigrew; Voldemort seemingly enjoying it more with every of the passing moments.

Voldemort lifted his wand from Pettigrew's direction and gave it a casual flick that conjured and deep black chair out of thin air. He seated himself in the new chair and spoke once again as Pettigrew struggled back to his knees.

"I can see in your feeble mind that you are friends with the Potters." Voldemort said, having for the first time a slightly satisfied look to his face. "But of course, I knew this already or Lord Voldemort would not have permitted you to the great privilege that is being in my presence."

"Y-y-yes M-my L-lord." Wormtail said after much hesitation. "It is c-certainly a g-great p-p-privilege."

"I am sure." Voldemort said silky smooth, a skeptical sneer flickering on his face for a moment. "Now tell me, where are they, the Potters?"

"I-i-i'm not s-sure," said Wormtail, scared more now, he had not known he would be required to betray his old friends so soon, but if it were a choice between betrayal or death he would choose the previous.

"So you come to me with nothing to offer but your stench and stupidity?" Voldemort said, still silky; Wormtail winced.

"No!" Wormtail cried quickly, thinking it best not to allow Voldemort too much free time. "I… I s-said I w-wasn't s-sure where th-they were, b-but I h-have an id-dea!"

Voldemort gave something of a pleased smirk and replied to Wormtail's stutter filled sentence.

"Well then, that is a different matter, isn't it?" He said, a twisted smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I will give you a bit of time to think on your next course of action because you have two days to find me the Potters before they have hidden themselves away."

Voldemort raised his hands from his lap, and in turn his wand, and pointed his wand hand at Wormtail. Wormtail cowered to the floor again. The twisted smile broke through entirely as Wormtail started writhing on the floor in terrible pain for the second time.

While watching Wormtail with great pleasure, Voldemort called out into the hall for the white-blonde haired man; he entered, trying to ignore Wormtail's screams.

"You called My Lord?" The blonde man said, kneeling on one knee and bowing to Voldemort.

"Yes Malfoy, I did, I think I would require of you to bring Lestrange to me." said Voldemort.

"Yes My Lord, right away." The blonde man said, stood, and exited the room without a glance at Wormtail.

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A more hectic and nerve taxing day Prongs had scarily seen than the day previous; aside from his duties for the Order of the Phoenix that was. It had been filled with careful planning, even more careful short trips to various allies, and yet more carefully finalized preparations for his and his family's hiding for today.

It had been a mere day and a half since they had made the decision to request of their friend Wormtail to take Padfoot's place and he had yet to be informed. None knew whether he would accept the position, but if he did not Padfoot was prepared to once again resign himself to it without objection.

"Last chance Padfoot." Prongs said almost warningly.

He looked forebodingly at his dearest friend as if they would not be seeing each other again.

"Please don't look at me like that Prongs; everything's going to be fine. We've always had our best luck after Halloween, haven't we? And it's only five days away." said Padfoot, tying up his new boots, preparing to depart and retrieve Wormtail. "And if you're saying this is my last chance to change my mind about our present arrangement, you can forget about going into it again."

"Well I was referring to your last chance to change your mind, but not about being our Secret Keeper."

"What then?" Padfoot asked, standing up and grabbing his cloak from the back of a chair.

"About not telling Mooney, I think he ought to know, but I'm not going to go behind your back about it."

"Well I'm not changing my mind about that either, it's safer for everyone if he still thinks I'm Secret Keeper, especially for you, Lily, and Harry!" Padfoot said adamantly, tired of defending himself.

"Very well." said Prongs. "Good luck!"

"Ah but see, I don't really need for you to wish it to me." Padfoot said and he retrieved from inside his robes a small bottle which looked to be filled with liquid gold. "I've found it much easier to bottle my own; or Lily's anyway."

He uncorked the top, lifted it in the air, said "Cheers!" and took a swig; downing a third of its contents.

"Well, that should do for the time being." Padfoot said, re-corking the bottle and returning it to his robes. "I'll be off then, do make sure you're here when I get back"

"I'll try to be, but you know how it is." Prongs whispered with another foreboding look at Padfoot who was now stepping into the raging emerald green flames of the fireplace.

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"How many times have we told you, Wormtail…" Padfoot said tartly in a raised voice, gathering up odds and ends in his arms and tossing them haphazardly into a nearby trunk amongst many unfolded articles of clothing "…you must be ready to leave at a moment's notice! What if we had not had time to gather all of your junk?"

"I'm sorry, Sirius!" The small man, Wormtail, apologized, ducking under his bed; double checking that he had gotten everything.

"Well I would rather you not have to apologize and just be ready the next time, okay?" said Padfoot, attempting to force the trunk closed.

"Where exactly are we going anyway?" Wormtail questioned, reappearing from under his bed with a filthy sock in his hand.

"I've already told you that you will know once we get there!" Padfoot replied moodily; sometimes he honestly wondered if Wormtail ever listened to a word he said. "Besides, there is far too much chance of us being overheard in a place like this; we shouldn't even be talking about it."

Wormtail made a brief, panicked, glance to the attic door directly above Padfoot's head and quickly looked away before he drew attention to it. Padfoot did not see this; he had still been preoccupied with getting the trunk fully closed. Once he had managed it, he hoisted it up off the bed with one arm and drew his slender wand with the other.

"Toss that ruddy sock here!" Padfoot said and Wormtail threw the filth covered sock at him which he caught in the same hand as his wand.

Padfoot dropped the sock on the bed in front of him, pointed his wand at it and said clearly. "Portus!" The sock glowed bright blue for a moment and then lay there, seemingly unchanged.

"Come on then!" Padfoot said, looking at his watch which bore an unusually high number of hands. "On my count!

Wormtail sidestepped around the bed to be within reach of the sock and awaited Padfoot's count.

"– One – Two – " Padfoot began to count. " – Three! – " Both men grabbed the sock the instant the last word had left Padfoot's lips and felt the sensation of being hooked behind their navels and flying into the air.

A moment later they landed gently in the Potter's parlor that Padfoot had left just twenty minutes before.

Padfoot dropped the sock, not wanting to hold Wormtail's dirty laundry any longer than was needed.

"James, Lily! I'm back, no mention worthy events, and I've got Wormtail." Padfoot called, setting Wormtail's trunk next to the stairs and walking towards the kitchen door just past the stairs.

Padfoot paused, halfway inside the kitchen, looking back and placing a cautious hand close to his wand; having heard no response.

"James…? Lily…?" said Padfoot again, slower.

"There's a note, Sirius." Wormtail said, taking a short note off the coffee table and reading aloud. "Sirius, and hopefully Peter, James and I received an urgent owl from Dumbledore and had to set off just after Sirius. We've sent Harry to stay with the Longbottoms for a couple of days. We should be back no later than the end of the month; I can't tell you more at the moment but our other plans are postponed for now. Peter, we request you stay there until we return as the only practical ways in or out of the house these days are by Portkey or Floo Network, also it is much safer than any other place you could go. Sirius, we know you have a mission with Remus that needs attending to, we only ask that you fill Peter in first. Good luck to you both and to us as well. I've left some extra Felix in the cauldron upstairs just in case; here's hoping you don't need it… Lily." Wormtail finished and looked up at Padfoot who was now standing only a few feet away.

"Very well, sit if you wish, Peter, there's a bit I need to tell you." said Padfoot, sitting himself; sounding disappointed.

So Padfoot set to explaining the situation the four friends found themselves in, and about the Potter's need to go into hiding and that he, Padfoot, had recommended he, Wormtail, to be their Secret Keeper instead of himself. When he had finished Wormtail looked terribly thrilled and very nervous at the same time.

He could understand this perfectly. Although Wormtail was indeed a member of the Order he rarely had the chance to help further the Order's goals and even rarer did he have a chance to undertake such an important role. He clearly relished the chance to prove himself and also was nervous since he was about to be entrusted with the safety of three lives; if he accepted that was.

"I wouldn't dare think to ask you to give an answer right away under dif…"

"Yes!" Wormtail burst out a bit over exuberantly as if this was what he had been working toward his entire life and there was nothing he wanted more; though he quickly tried to stifle his obvious excitement. "I mean, yes, of course I will, if that's what Lily and James want."

"It is."

"Then that's what I'll do." Wormtail said, now looking like he had let something very important slip by revealing his enthusiasm.

Padfoot checked his watch once again.

"It's about time for me to be going." He said standing and walking to the fireplace. "Wait here for Lily and James!"

"I will, I promise." said Wormtail, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"And don't mess up." Padfoot said somewhat desperately under his breath as he threw a fistful of powder into the fire and said his destination.

He wasn't about to say it aloud but he knew, and so did Prongs and Mooney, that Wormtail was a bit absent minded and in no way cut from the finest cloth when it came to magical ability. But he was a good friend and had always been trustworthy.

Padfoot took a step forward into the flames and vanished in a great rush of emerald green flames.

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Wormtail stayed none too patiently at the Potter estate; eagerly waiting for the return of its owners. He would be terribly late for the deadline the Dark Lord had set for him. But perhaps since he would be able not only to tell his Lord where the Potter's were but lead him straight to their doorstep as no one else could it would make up for his inevitable lateness. He trembled every time the thought crept into his mind of Sirius changing his mind at the last minute and him being forced to go back to the Dark Lord days late and utterly empty handed. Visions filled Wormtail's head of his being tortured for hours until those responsible finally became weary of his pained screaming and ended his life with a nasty laugh and a gleeful look. Such things played out over and over in his mind preventing him from gaining much rest or even going as long an hour without a terrified twitch.

Two and a half days this went on, getting steadily worse with the passage of time, punctuated now and again by a weak voice in Wormtail's head that again and again repeated its questions.

Should I really be doing this? After all, who was it that protected me all those years from the Slytherins and guided me through all of my homework?

These questions led to Wormtail's frequent speaking to himself and adamantly silencing his feeble conscience with over-loud defending of what he had done and the decisions he had made.

Finally around midday on the fourth day James came bursting forth from the fireplace in a blaze of flames which lingered on his body for a second or two with the speed he exited. His wand held before him in a weary manner as if expecting to be greeted by the worst of foes.

For one terrifying moment Wormtail thought James had discovered his betrayal and had returned home to kill him and was mere seconds away from collapsing to his knees in front of him to beg for forgiveness when he saw a look of great relief wash over James's face at the sight of him.

James let out a sigh and lowered his wand.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you." said James, turning and sending a jet of white smoke from his wand into the still green flames where it promptly disappeared.

James rounded on Wormtail, rushed forward and embraced him as if he were a brother that he had not seen in many years; Wormtail's short stature putting his head squarely in James' chest.

"It's been far too long, Wormtail." James said, releasing Wormtail from his arms.

Lily soon followed James and emerged from the fireplace holding little Harry tightly with both her arms, he was smiling and giggling, apparently liking the spinning of Floo travel. Her eyes went directly to Wormtail and a smile lit her face and her arms relaxed some from around the giggling child.

"It's nice to see you, Peter." Lily said pleasantly.

"Please, Lily, call me Wormtail. I would prefer it if you would." He asked for what he was sure was the fortieth time, trying quite successfully to keep how nervous he was out of his voice.

"I will not." Lily replied defiantly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "If I had my way all four of you wouldn't be using them either. They're ridiculous and incredibly childish, especially for grown men to be using." James behind her back was rolling his eyes and motioning with his hand that she kept going on about this subject. Wormtail ignored this, and Lily did not see it.

Wormtail was about to sit when his eyes roamed onto Harry and a painful tinge prodded him in the stomach.

"Is… Is that Harry?" asked Wormtail, knowing the answer already.

"Of course it is." Lily said after a small pause. "I'd forgotten you hadn't seen him in months. I suppose the last time you saw us would have been when he was about four months old." another smile, this time directed at Harry. "Doesn't he look just like James?"

"Y-yes." Wormtail said, quickly looking away.

"Yes but if he's lucky his hair will grow more manageable than mine as he gets older." James said, stretching, looking stiff. "Lily, I'm going to finish the packing, we're dreadfully behind schedule." she nodded. "I'm assuming, since you are still here and Padfoot isn't that you know our plan and have agreed?" Wormtail nodded as well. "That's the best news I've heard in weeks. I'll be finished shortly and then we can go. After we've performed the charm you're to go directly into hiding yourself, if you don't have anyplace suitable, go to see Dumbledore."

"N-no, I do." said Wormtail.

James said nothing in response and nor did he make any motion to confirm he had heard him and rather set off at a fast walk up the nearby staircase.

Sure enough, within half an hour James returned from the second floor with several packed suitcases in his arms and several more trunks tottering along behind him.

"Time to go…" James said, depositing all the luggage in the middle of the room and sending it on ahead with many flicks of his wand.

"Floo Network or Portkey?" he asked suddenly, turning towards the other two.

"I think a Portkey would probably be best for Harry, too much soot in those fireplaces, at least for more than a few trips." Lily said after Wormtail indicated he did not have a preference. She got to her feet, having sat down to play with Harry.

James smiled, pulling a tattered old glove from his pocket with a very, I-thought-you-were-going-to-say-that, sort of look about his face.

Lily paused an arm's length away from James; both watching Wormtail as he was moving quite slowly, seemingly reluctant to approach them. When Wormtail had managed to canter over to them, James announced for them to take the glove on his count, counted to three and they were gone; landing again in the front entrance of an obviously munch smaller house next to the luggage Prongs had sent ahead . This house, however, did not have its windows excessively covered, and from the view out the large windows beside the front door, was in a small, fairly secluded village somewhere in the country.

Almost as Lily let the glove go Harry wrestled in her arms, coughed a couple of times and nestled himself against his mother; looking very tired.

"Why don't I take him up and put him to sleep?" James suggested, scooping Harry out of her arms and putting him over his shoulder.

"Yes, that's for the best, Peter and I need to be getting on with the charm." Lily said, letting go of Harry only reluctantly. She still did not much like to be parted from him if she could help it; though figured it was perfectly natural.

Wormtail continued to stare out the window next to the door as the sun slowly sank into the distant woods; keeping his sweaty hands clenched inside his robe pockets, hoping beyond hope that he would be rid of this place soon. He still did not know if his news of the Potter's whereabouts would be enough to save him the punishment due for being almost three days late for the Dark Lord. Wormtail gave an involuntary twitch at this thought. His hands started shaking and he squeezed them harder.

Indeed he had been so lost in these thoughts that when Lily touched him on the shoulder to get his attention (having not heard her calls) that he jumped frantically and yelped with fright before coming back to his senses, realizing who it was.

"Didn't mean to startle you, Peter." said Lily apologetically. "But you don't have to worry, we're quite safe here, and we're about to become a great deal safer, and speaking of which, we need to get to it." Wormtail said nothing and followed Lily out the front door, his hands never leaving his pockets.

Lily turned abruptly on her heel before the garden gate to face the dull and battered grayish-white house and unceremoniously drew her wand; paying no mind to the muggles walking up and down the street; knowing that they had no sight for her, Wormtail, or even the house not thirty feet from them.

"Are you ready, Peter?" Lily asked him, clearly taking him off guard by the question, he apparently not expecting to be asked so soon after arriving despite just being told.

Nevertheless, Wormtail nodded vigorously and asked what he needed to do.

"Nothing, just stand there, for the time being anyway… and relax, the process is completely harmless." Lily said, chalking up his nerves to having a charm set on him that he was not accustom, having no idea of the true reasons.

Wormtail withdrew his hand from his pocket to wipe his damp brow and left more sweat behind than he took away.

Lily took a deep breath as she closed her eyes for a moment and pointed her wand at the house; breathing slowly and concentration hard. Wormtail looked on expectantly, waiting for the time when he would come into the process. Lily said something that Wormtail did not catch and the house and surrounding lawns glowed brightly their color.

Lily stared contently at the glowing house for a few moments, her concentration not waning in the least. She took a second deep breath and slowly moved her wand to the left; channeling a stream of glow from the house the thickness of her wand towards Wormtail. She stopped the stream, it floating and swaying up, down, and from side to side with the wind as it neared Wormtail and instructed him to draw his wand; he did so.

"Now, touch your wand to it." she said, and again Wormtail did as he was told and as he did his wand also glowed and Lily lifted her own. "Repeat word for word what I say, it is crucial as it will seal the charm." Wormtail whimpered slightly but Lily ignored it and pressed on. "I accept charge of this abode and those within to be as my most important of secrets and henceforth take such duty to be hidden within my very being and to be locked away where only I may seek it."

Wormtail repeated this saying slowly as to make sure he did not make a mistake and have to start from the beginning. "I accept charge of this abode…" he spoke, feeling his wand lightly vibrate in his hand. "…and those within to be as my…" he concentrated hard on what Lily had said; his voice shaky. "…most important of secrets and henceforth take such duty to be hidden within my very being…" he was almost finished, only a little further and he could be on his way, done with those who could not protect him absolutely. "…and to be locked away where only I may seek it…"

As the final word left him, Wormtail witnessed something he had truly not been prepared for. The entire glow was now flying toward him at an alarming rate, guided by the already formed stream connected to his wand which swelled to a greater size.

He could feel the glow now being channeled through his wand, shooting up his arm and then down to what felt like the exact middle of his chest where it started to settle; causing a warm, pleasant sensation to spread throughout his body.

On and on the strange glow flowed toward him, ever swelling the already gorged stream, pulling from all borders of the property and leaving it as suddenly as it had come.

Though it had seemed to last for more than an hour to Wormtail no more than ten or fifteen seconds had passed when all glow had vanished and the warm sensation had begun to retreat from his body and he suddenly, incredibly, knew the exact address of the house he was standing before.

"Well done, Wormtail!" Wormtail's head jerked toward the door where James was leaning against the door jam with a proud look on his face.

Wormtail quickly looked away; he should not look at him that way. He did not yet know, of course, but they were enemies now, not friends.

"Yes, you did very well." Lily concurred, though giving Wormtail a concerned look for his reaction to James's words.

"I… I s-should be going, now that you're s-safe." Wormtail said trying, unsuccessfully, to sound casual. However before he could get one pace James stopped him and asked that before he went that he write their location on four pieces of parchment and then they would send them along to the appropriate persons.

Wormtail returned to the house with James and Lily and hastily scribbled the newly learned address on four scrap pieces of parchment and left even more hastily, drawing concerned looks from both James and Lily.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wormtail rapped loud and fast on an old and lusterless door. Nervous sweat poured from his body as if from buckets, soaking his palms, underarms, and forehead. He was now three days late for the deadline his master had set for him, but he had the information he wanted; would it be enough to save him?

"My, my, but aren't we late?" said a crooked toothed man with matted brown hair as he opened the door only long enough for Wormtail to enter. He gazed disgustedly from his forehead to the soaked through armpits of his robes and spoke again. "Not nervous are we?"

Wormtail attempted to shoot him a filthy look but only managed one of fear joined by a whimper; the man laughed unpleasantly.

"Well he's waiting, best gets going shouldn't we?" the man laughed again. "I presumes you know the way."

With another whimper Wormtail set off down the hall and to the left for the room he did not wish to enter. His hands began to shake and his legs began to lose their strength as he approached the door of the Dark Lord's room. He reached out to knock but the door opened on its own and his knees gave for a second.

Wormtail entered quite unwillingly and before a single sound of explanation could leave his lips he found himself face down on the threadbare carpet, twitching and screaming in immense pain.

More than once his pain ceased long enough only to give thought of the end before another more painful wave of torture filled every nerve he possessed; the Dark Lord's great anger with him seemingly translated directly through his curse.

Wormtail could not have told how long he was tortured for, only that the time was great and that by the end he was weeping

"You have one chance to explain to me why I should not destroy you now!" said the venomous voice of Lord Voldemort from somewhere to Wormtail's right. "GET UP!" Voldemort ordered angrily, and Wormtail was pulled magically to his knees. "I highly doubt any excuse your feeble mind can conjure will be adequate to persuade me from killing you, but one never knows, you could prove to surprise me!" there was anger and disgust for Wormtail in every syllable of Voldemort's words.

Wormtail, as quick as he could, mustered up what little courage he possessed; keen to explain himself before the Dark Lord had a chance to reconsider killing him without an explanation.

"M-m-m-my L-l-l-lord…" Wormtail stuttered horribly and Voldemort sneered at him, looking like his patients was wearing quite thin already. "I-i w-would have b-b-been to s-see y-you much s-s-sooner b-but S-sirius Black t-took me too see the P-potters and…" the smallest flicker of interest in what Wormtail was saying crossed Voldemort's face at mention of the Potters. "…w-well they weren't th-…"

"Your point Pettigrew?" Voldemort cut across him in a more dangerous and cruel voice; making no effort to hide his hand fondling the wand inside his robes.

"thepottershavemademetheirsecretkeeper!" Wormtail sputtered out his sentence as one incoherent word but Voldemort understood perfectly as if he had spoken it properly, and the wrath filled glare that had been overtaking his face vanished in an instant to be replaced with a twisted, mirth-filled smile which perverted Voldemort's features further than they already were.

Wormtail did not see this, however, having flinched away from Voldemort before he had finished, fearing that he had been too slow in answering the Dark Lord's questions and was about to die no matter what he had said. He retracted further when he heard Voldemort beginning to laugh with what could only be interpreted as glee, though, like his smile, this glee was twisted and perverted to almost unrecognizable limits.

Wormtail closed his eyes tighter and curled towards his knees, unsure for what reason Voldemort was happy, whether it for his, Wormtail's, information, or for the sheer pleasure of being about to kill someone whom had failed him.

"…and what is the address of the dear Potter's hiding place?" Voldemort asked, gazing down upon Wormtail with pleasure.

"N-number twenty-th-three, Godric's Hollow, My Lord." said Wormtail with the slightest shard of hope entering him, though he stayed curled with eyes tightly shut.

Voldemort rose from his winged, black leather armchair startlingly fast, (startlingly fast if anyone had been watching that was) took a step toward Wormtail and placed his hands, one inside the other, behind his back.

"You have done Lord Voldemort a great service, Pettigrew." Voldemort said in a sickening, yet silky smooth tone; and, as if reading his mind said. "Oh, no, your Lord is not going to kill you this night. Stop cowering." he added suddenly, abandoning the silky tone.

Wormtail obeyed at once, opening his eyes, uncurling, and straightening up into, what was for him, a considerably upright kneel, his head bowed.

"Edwards!" Voldemort called, no louder than his normal speaking voice yet it carried eerily out into the hall.

Voldemort turned away from Wormtail to the door which opened of its own accord for a second time. The crooked-toothed wizard from the front door appeared at the threshold a moment later and dropped down to a one-kneed bow at Voldemort's feet.

"You summoned me, Master?" Edwards said, glancing just behind Voldemort at the very much alive Wormtail and frowning.

"I did indeed." said Voldemort, inclining his head. "Tomorrow evening I will be going to rid myself of the troublesome Potters once and for all. The evening after I would like for you to take your dear friends the Lestranges and eliminate the final remnants of the Bones family."

"Yes My Lord, I understand." Edwards said, raised upward a little as if to stand but then jerked back to his previous position, having not been dismissed. "There is more My Lord?"

"I have recently learned that Frank and Alice Longbottom have been in contact with Potters quite regularly…" Voldemort continued, ignoring Edwards' premature movement. "…, along with a slue of other Order of the Phoenix members including Albus Dumbledore himself." Voldemort said anger detectable in every word, specifically Dumbledore. "I therefore wish for you and the Lestranges, until your appointment with the Bones, to join Crouch with keeping an eye on them. Should something arise that deems their immediate dispatch then by all means proceed, if not, I will be joining you shortly after my business with the Potters, to personally see to their demise. Am I understood?"

"You are," said Edwards.

"You may go."

Edwards rose, gave Voldemort a small bow, and exited the room.

"You may go as well, Pettigrew." said Voldemort, turning and striding back to his seat.

Wormtail scurried to his feet much less gracefully than Edwards and made for the door, glad to be finished with Voldemort for a time and to still be alive.

He was halfway into the hallway when he remembered, with a thrill of horror, that he had forgotten to bow to Voldemort and turned quickly to remedy this.

"Just go Pettigrew!" Voldemort ordered before Wormtail had taken another step.

It was not until he was hurrying up a dark and narrow lane that led to his home that a thought entered Wormtail's mind. A thought that had never dared cross his mind, not once. The Dark Lord had always said that he was looking to murder the Potters, not only Lily and James. An image of little Harry sleeping in his mother's arms flashed in Wormtail's mind.

But surely he was speaking of Lily and James, and not including Harry. He assured himself. And besides, if they had not been so foolish as to go against someone who could not possibly be defeated…

He shook his head hard to banish these unpleasant thoughts and quickened his pace, looking over his shoulder, half expecting to see James or Sirius coming after him with their wands raised and wrath in their eyes.

Wormtail drew his wand, unlocked his front door, slunk inside and closed the door fast behind him, locking it again, as fast as he could.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The day of the 31st of October came and went, darker and gloomier than the day had in memory of recent years. Having been overcast all day with dark clouds that threatened a rainstorm more with each hour, it did not rain however.

By night fall, the chilling and depressing mist that had been covering most of the country for the last year once again became visible and brought with it the omen of a cold and depressing night. That was how James Potter chose to interpret it.

Though it had been only shortly over a day since his and his wife's entry into hiding and isolation Prongs was already feeling cut off from the wizarding community, the Order, and most of all Padfoot. He had never had a high tolerance for being cooped up, no matter the location or reason. Staying home without leaving for several days, like just after he and Lily had been married was a different matter because he knew that should he want to leave he could. But he just couldn't stand the thought of staying indoors for Merlin only knew how long, without control of when or even if he got to leave. He did not like feeling as if he had no control over his situation, and even more he hated the knowledge that he was stuck in a place he did not want to be while his friends were fighting Voldemort in every way they could, even possibly dying for that fight, and he could not help. Even Lily could help by keeping the Order stocked in the potions they frequently needed while stuck in this place, but all of his truly useful talents were out in the field, tracking down, interrogating, and fighting Death Eaters; there were others, of course, but none he could easily implement from within these walls. Worst of all was that he had been so close, he felt, to finally finding Theodore Watson who had been responsible for killing Alfred Abbott whom he, Prongs, had been good friends with. Now, he would have to start over again after it was safe to come out of hiding, and that was a very far off prospect.

Prongs stared out the window of his son's bedroom window out at the mist filled air. He had finished putting Harry to sleep more than twenty minutes ago and had since been rooted to where he presently stood. He had watched the sun set some ten minutes ago, knowing of nothing better to do then watch the muggles out in the street and wish that he was in the outside world.

Prongs heard light footsteps out in the hall and the door open behind him.

"Are you still up here?" said Lily's voice, lovingly. "Do you want me to take over, sweetie?"

"No," Prongs said, somberly. "He's already asleep."

The door closed very quietly and Lily walked over to him.

"Come on, let's get some dinner." Lily said, grabbing his arm and leading him away from the window and out of the room.

Long hours had passed since Prongs' depressed reminiscing at the window and it was now well past midnight. Lily and Prongs had fallen asleep in the sitting room on the sofa, Prongs' arm around Lily and Lily half lying atop Prongs; both sleeping peacefully without the merest idea of the fate that lay before them.

In the square of the small Village of Godric's Hollow, in the center of which stood an impressive, ancient looking, fountain comprising of two lions rearing on their hind legs, back to back, a sudden pop broke through the silent night air. (Prongs woke suddenly, hearing the pop like a gunshot) There appeared, next to the fountain, a tall, slender man wearing draped black robes that covered him from head to foot. From the man's upper lip to his chin was the only portion of the man's body that was visible and it was deathly white made to look more so by his dark robes.

Voldemort gazed around the village square for a few moments, his unseen eyes lingering for a moment on the fountain, to which he gave a malevolent sneer. At last his eyes fell upon the houses up on the hill to his left that were the furthest from the square and the newest looking and therefore the highest numbered. A malicious half smile crossed his lips and he began to walk silently up the cobbled street toward the outlying houses. He walked slowly, as if not caring when he arrived at his destination and more that he were really taking a casual nighttime stroll to a friend's home. He appeared to be savoring every moment of prolonged anticipation.

He took a little jaunt up a smaller hill between the end of the first street at number 17 to the street that bore numbers 20 through 28. He took another left once gaining this street and walked along at an even slower pace counting off the numbers to himself as he passed them. There to his right were numbers 20… 21… 22…

Prongs had slid himself from beneath Lily carefully as not to wake her, assuming that a he had been awoken by the late-night muggle hunters they sometimes got in the woods surrounding the village this time of year. He had not looked at the clock and did not know just how late it was.

He walked out of the sitting room, planning to have a glass of water before he woke Lily and they went up to bed properly.

The muggles are hunting deer no doubt. Prongs thought as he neared the kitchen, and he allowed himself to start laughing at this amusing thought.

His laughter was quickly shunted to the side however, as from behind him he heard the clicking of a lock unlocking and then the slow turning of a doorknob.

Prongs whirled around, his hand going to his wand before he had, and instinctively pointed his wand at the door and wordlessly re-locking it with a brief glow of the knob that stopped turning immediately.

Prongs rushed back across the entrance hall and back into the sitting room.

"Lily!" he yelled at his wife lying across the room, she woke with a start looking scared and confused. "Lily, he's here! RUN! Get Harry, I'll hold him off!"

A look of absolute horror stole over Lily's face and she stammered to her feet as the front door gave a dangerous shutter, Prongs turned and locked the whole door in place with a quick charm. Lily flew past him to the stairs.

The door gave another dangerous shutter and this time it was accompanied by the sound of cracking wood. Prongs attempted his charm once more and this time it bounded off and slammed and locked the kitchen door instead.

There was nothing for it now, magic wouldn't work, not that type of magic.

Prongs rushed forward, pulling a vile of red potion out of his pocket, uncorking it and downing the contents in one gulp. Prongs' whole body bulked and bulged immensely for an instant then returned to normal. The door shuttered again with more sounds of breaking wood. (If it had not been for the rest of enchantments on the house Voldemort would have been inside long ago.) An instant later, in the blink of an eye where once stood Prongs now stood a massive brown stag.

The stag galloped forward and rammed the door, embedding the tips of its antlers into the door. The stag braced all four of its powerful legs and pushed on the door with all its strength.

There were several loud cracks at the edges of the door and they began bending and breaking inward from outside. The hinges broke free and showered the stag with bent screws, the deadbolt, still locked, wrenched itself straight through the door jam, leaving a gapping hole.

The stag was grunting and breathing heavily with its effort but next moment the door blew to pieces and the stag was thrown into the air. Prongs landed hard on the stairs as a flash of green light zoomed passed him, missing him by inches and setting fire to the carpeted stairs.

Prongs bound to his feet and hastily sent a hex through the massive smoke filled hole that was once his front door and it was deflected directly back at him. He jumped over the banister just before his own hex reached him and felt several large splinters pierce his shoulder and neck. A curse that was not his came towards him and he kindly deflected it back at it's caster accompanied by one of his own

Another curse flew from outside, however was not directed at Prongs who looked up to see the small landing that overlooked the hall explode a mere foot in front of Lily who had attempted to cross it with Harry, crying, in her arms.

The fire on the stairs was spreading rapidly.

Prongs whirled around wondering for what possible reason Lily was still there. He pointed his wand at the hole of a door and was halfway through an incantation when Voldemort stepped over the devastated threshold and forced Prongs to dive sideways into the sitting room to avoid a second flash of green.

Voldemort rushed forward, casually vanishing the fire on the stairs he wished to climb; he must have thought Prongs dead. Taking advantage of this, Prongs aimed a highly destructive curse at Voldemort but it missed, having been deflected into the stairs in front of his target instead. But no matter, the curse had obliterated a good portion of the stairs, Voldemort no longer had a path upstairs, or across to Lily.

Hoping that Lily had by now gone, Prongs ducked behind the sitting room wall and sent three curses at Voldemort, including a killing curse. All three missed, Voldemort was too fast, he kept merely blocking or dodging everything Prongs sent his way, but at least Voldemort's full attention was back on him. Two more curses came at him and he ducked once again behind the wall; one curse causing the wall to shudder as it hit the other side and the other sending an armchair into the wall opposite him

Prongs whipped around the wall only to find himself staring straight at Voldemort's stomach and before he could even register his shock he heard a cry of "Riggomortia!" and was thrown backwards with a flash of light and landed on his back and slid across the room, his head slamming into the sofa and moving it back a couple of feet; something rolling off it, down his face and onto his chest.

Prongs was suddenly aware that he was not breathing, he simply could not draw breath despite his efforts, his lungs, he could feel, were immobile; as were the rest of the muscles in his body. He could not move or breath and worst of all, he realized with a terrible fear rising up in him, his heart was no longer beating, he would be dead within a minute.

Voldemort stepped beside him and looked down with great pleasure.

"You will undoubtedly be dead by half a minute's time so I will keep this short." Voldemort said cruelly, but Prongs did not hear what he had to say next, his head was propped up a little by the sofa and he had just seen what had rolled off of it.

The worst feeling that had ever entered him was filling Prongs up like a foul drink, it was worse than the knowledge that he was about to die, it was worse even than feeling himself slowly die. There, sitting uselessly on his chest was Lily's wand. She had forgotten it in her haste to get to Harry; it must have fallen out of her pocket while they had been asleep.

As more pain filled Prongs' body from his lack of air and blood flow, he began to weep, though there were no external signs. He could feel his mind shutting down, filling with darkness. He had failed to protect his family, he was about to die and they would be soon to follow, what he treasured most he would let Voldemort destroy.

"…don't you see? Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort said and a jet of green light shot from his wand and hit the barely alive Prongs in the stomach, no scream escaped him.

"One down…" Voldemort muttered softly as he turned away from Prongs' body.

Lily stood, her back against the wall opposite the door. She was holding her crying son more tightly than she had ever before, her head resting atop his and an unending torrent of tears streaking her face and dampening Harry's hair. She kissed the top of his head over and over. James was dead; there was no denying that now that there was no sound of a fight from below. She kissed her son again. How could she have been so foolish as to forget her wand, leaving her and Harry with no escape or defense? If she had only been able to get to one of the Portkeys it would not have mattered. Why hadn't they put one in Harry's room?

Lily looked up and watched as the doorknob slowly revolved and the door was pushed open A shiver of terror went through her; she knew what she had to do. She put Harry in the crib next her and stepped between it and the door. She might not have a wand but she was his mother and she would do all she could to protect him; even if she knew it was hopeless.

Voldemort stepped into the room and gave a sinister smile; Lily returned it with a resolute look upon her face that was only hardened by the tears running down her face.

"Your dear husband is dead, Lily, and you have no wand." Voldemort said softly, half his usual cruelness. "And lest you wish join him, step aside and I will spare your life, James needn't have died."

Shock took hold of Lily so that her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. It couldn't be, he had not come for her and James but for Harry, why, what had Harry done to him?

"No!" Lily yelled, "Not Harry! Please! What has he done! Kill me instead! Let him be!" Lily pleaded with Voldemort but he ignored her and walked forward, looking like he had expected this but was put off by it all the same. "Please! Not Harry! KILL ME INSTEAD!" Lily yelled more loudly, throwing out her arms.

"Get out of the way silly girl! There is no reason for you to die as well!" Voldemort had reached her and had tried stepping around her but she moved into his path again.

"Not Harry! Please! KILL ME!"

"I said out of the way girl!" Voldemort said, Lily didn't move and grabbed two handfuls of his robes, trying to keep him away from Harry.

"NO! PLEASE! DON'T, NOT HARRY!" Voldemort was now laughing, evilly and loudly. "Not Harry, please! Me, kill me!" Lily had broken now, abandoning her yells and sobbing her words.

Voldemort continued laughing and pushed Lily roughly from him, she staggered, losing her grip on his robes, and fell to the floor.

Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it directly at Harry's heart, a victorious look on his twisted face.

"Avadarrgghh! – 'HARRY!' – " Lily had gathered herself from the floor and charged Voldemort, grabbing his wrist and pushing his arm up and away from her son.

Voldemort stopped laughing and threw her from him again. "Very well!" Voldemort pointed his wand at her. "Avada Kedavra!" a jet of green light hit Lily in the chest and she fell crumpled to the floor with a bloodcurdling scream, and all mere feet from Harry.

Voldemort turned his wand quickly back to Harry, now pointed at his forehead; looking angry and disgruntled, though very pleased all the same. "Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort cried and another jet of green shot at Harry. It knocked the crying child over as it struck just above his right eye and bounded off at its caster. The rebounded curse hit Voldemort in his shock filled face and there was suddenly a deafening sound like a large explosion followed almost simultaneously by a blinding wave of white light that filled the room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Padfoot landed on the street with a loud clunk and the scraping of metal on hard cobble stones, landing with so much force that the engine of his enormous motorcycle hit the ground. He had descended at far too steep of an angle and had almost lost control upon touch down. He squeezed the front and back brakes as hard as he could and came to a screeching stop more than twenty feet from where he had landed, his engine scrapping along for half that, leaving a torn up and rubber-blackened trail behind him.

He swung his leg over the handlebars and himself off the motorcycle without dropping the kickstand and let the motorcycle fall to onto its side with another loud clunk. He could care less about the condition of his bike at that moment and ran down the street. He had been on another mission for the Order and had only just heard. It couldn't be possible; he refused to believe it, not until he saw with his own eyes.

Padfoot stopped abruptly just after number 22 Godric's Hollow and the bottom dropped out of his stomach and the feeling in his legs waned, though he managed to keep himself upright. He along with many people from the village standing around him were staring at where he knew James and Lily's house should stand but what met his eyes could not by any means be called a house.

He buried his face in his hands and ran them through his hair. Beyond the garden fence was the charred ruins of the house that had once been, there could not be half of it still standing. The entire right third of the house was gone and what was left of it was scattered, along with much of the rest of the house, in the surrounding property. All that remained of the middle portion was a bit of the ground floor which contained scarcely more than the bottom of a staircase, a few remnants of walls and doors and half a large hole that was where the front door had stood. As for the left of the house, it was certainly the most in tact but still devastated.

Padfoot looked up again at the wreckage before him and saw that there were bits of furniture, paintings, cauldrons, and all sorts of other things mixed in with the wood, brick and glass that were all that remained of the house; all of it scattered hither and thither.

Padfoot kicked open the broken gate and walked into the front garden, crunching debris under his feet. He kicked bits of brick and wood out of his way as he neared the former front door. A large form moved to his right and Padfoot drew his wand quickly and directed it at the large form. What he had taken to be a particularly big pile of debris stirred once more (he gripped his wand tighter) and then raised up to reveal itself to be actually Rubeus Hagrid, a man twice as tall as the average and three times as wide. Padfoot's stomach gave a relieved lurch.

"Oh, 's you Sirius." Hagrid said sadly, lowering the pink, flowery umbrella he had pointed at him. There were tears in his beetle black eyes and glistening on his thick black beard.

Padfoot took a few more steps and Hagrid bent over and then straightened back up, this time with something resting in one his of his massive arms.

"What've you got there Hagrid?" Padfoot asked shakily, no trace of an attempt to keep it steady.

"It's littl' Harry," said Hagrid, a new batch of tears spattering his beard. Padfoot was shocked, Harry could not possibly have survived what had happened here, could he? "Don' righ'ly know how he survived, doesn' seem like much o' anthin' could."

Padfoot's heart lightened just slightly by Hagrid's words, Harry was still alive, they hadn't all died.

"And Lily and James?" Padfoot asked, not expecting more good news. Hagrid simply shook his head while trying to hold back more tears.

A fury rose up in Padfoot. He had convinced James to use Peter instead of him, he had practically begged him, all because he did not think he was trustworthy enough if captured. Peter had betrayed them, and he, Padfoot, would make him pay for such treachery, he would kill Peter. But those feelings he would have to shoulder, however difficult, for now, there were more important things to take care of, namely Harry.

"Give Harry to me please, Hagrid." Padfoot said, holding out his arms. He knew what he had to do; it was, after all, his responsibility being Harry's Godfather.

"I'm afraid I can' do tha' Sirius, Dumbledore tol' me to take care o' im until he got a few arrangements made." Hagrid said and Padfoot could hardly believe his ears. He was Harry's Godfather, who did Dumbledore think he was, making plans for Harry? "He said not ter let im go with anyone else."

"Well I…" Padfoot broke off. He had just received a painful stab in his chest. Dumbledore had advised for him to be James and Lily's Secret Keeper and he had disregarded because he thought he knew better.

He made up his mind in about a second.

"Fine then," He said with anger in his voice that was far separate from that he was feeling because two of his best friends had just been murdered. "Do whatever Dumbledore says, and take my motorcycle, I won't be needing it anymore and it'll make it easier for you to travel. There's something I have to go do. Just keep him safe, whatever you do. Goodbye, Hagrid."

And without waiting for Hagrid to say anything, Padfoot spun on the spot and disappeared with a loud pop.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There he sat, not drinking the large glass of bourbon he had conjured for himself several hours ago, though continuing to hold it near to his mouth. He had wanted very much to drown his sorrows while he waited, but rather decided it was best to keep all the wit about him that he could. Wormtail wasn't home, that was not surprising, but once he returned to his decrepit house he would die for what he had done.

The door creaked and opened some thirty minutes later, sending a wide beam of street-lamp light into the room where Padfoot stood, revealing nothing but the tip of his shoe. He did not move.

Wormtail stepped inside and closed the door behind him; unaware to who's company he was in.

"Been off celebrating all day with everyone else have you? Keeping up appearances?" Padfoot spoke softly and Wormtail looked to find a wand in his face beyond the light of which he could see nothing. "Thought you had gotten away with something hadn't you?"

"S-s-sirius!" Wormtail said terrified, recognizing his voice.

"But of course, you didn't really think I wouldn't know where your little hiding place was, did you?" Padfoot said, advancing on Wormtail further, almost extinguishing the wand light in his neck. "You've always been an idiot, Wormtail! But I never thought you could be so utterly brainless as to think that you could get away with betraying Lily and James to Voldemort, not when I and Remus are still alive!"

There was a sudden bang and a flash in the darkness and Padfoot was thrown backwards off balance, followed by a brief flood of light as the door was opened and slammed very quickly.

Padfoot swore loudly as he made for the door, Wormtail would not get away, he would make sure of that.

Padfoot burst through the door onto the lamp-lit street and looked around in pursuit of Wormtail. There he was, only fifteen feet from him attempting to get to a nearby alley. Padfoot pointed his wand at Wormtail's legs and made a fierce backward and up movement. Wormtail's legs were instantly jerked backwards so forcefully that he traveled backward a few feet before his face hit the street with a crack!

As Wormtail scrambled back to his feet and hastened to turn and face his attacker, Padfoot walked forward; a murderous look on his face. Blood was running down Wormtail's face from his mouth and nose and quite differently from Padfoot, he looked frightened.

Doing the only thing he could, Wormtail sent a curse at Padfoot which Padfoot deflected into the base of a street-lamp that resonated loudly like a gong upon being struck. A light in the window of one of the muggle houses flickered on.

"I'm going to kill you Peter!" Padfoot yelled, ignoring another of Wormtail's curses that was well off target as another two muggle lights flickered on. They were making an awful lot of noise.

Padfoot raised his wand to kill Wormtail and before he could strike a look crossed Wormtail's face and he yelled as loud as he could. "You mean like you killed James and Lily?"several more lights were coming on now. Padfoot froze, what was he talking about? There were several sounds of front doors unlocking and being opened as even more lights came alight inside the surrounding houses and Padfoot understood.

"Do NOT play games with me, Peter! I'll kill you!" Padfoot cried and he brought his wand down in a furious swipe, Wormtail was propelled backward off his feet onto his back, in full view of two or three muggles.

"I say man!" one of the muggle men said, quite startled.

"I'll make you pay for what you've done, Sirius Black!" Wormtail said, getting to his knees; playing to the growing crowd. He did not stay there long, however, Padfoot uttered an incantation and Wormtail was sent flying and spinning sideways through the air accompanied by a multitude of gasps.

Wormtail had barely lifted his bloodied face from the ground when he started spouting more lies to the confused crowd of awestruck people.

"Why did you betray them, Sirius?" said Wormtail. "They were your friends, why did you tell him where they were?"

"Damn you!" Padfoot yelled, running forward and kicking Wormtail hard in the stomach, causing him to keel over off his knees. Padfoot's wrath and hatred had never in his life been greater. How could Wormtail dare try to pin his own betrayal on him?

Padfoot lifted Wormtail to his feet with his wand and quickly grabbed hold of the wrist of the hand he held his wand in, keeping it immobile. He then stuck his wand to Wormtail's cheek and whispered so the crowd could not hear. "I'll going to kill you now, Peter, for your crimes I sentence you to – aarrrggg! - "

Several men had grabbed Padfoot around the arms, neck, and waste and had wrenched him away from Wormtail so hard that he lost his grip. Padfoot fought against the men as hard as he could, wanting only to get back to Wormtail who was now being helped up by two other men.

"GET OFF ME! I'VE GOT TO KILL HIM!" Padfoot screamed. "GET OFF ME! I'LL KILL YOU ALL IF I HAVE TO! GET OFF!"

Padfoot would come to regret these words but he was wholly blinded by his rage for Wormtail and could think of nothing else. He would be the one to kill Wormtail, no matter how many muggles he had to go through to do it.

"GET OFF I SAID!" Padfoot yelled ripping his wand arm away long enough to perform a lasso type wand movement that threw his restrainers from him. He turned his wand on Wormtail and before he could do anything else saw Wormtail bring his wand upward across his opposite hand, followed by the fastest wand work he had ever seen from Wormtail, all resulting in his an explosion. Padfoot grimaced and performed a shielding charm in the nick of time as the explosion reached him, yet he was still knocked from his feet and slid along painfully on his back.

Padfoot opened his eyes and unclenched his jaw, his ears were ringing from the sound of the explosion. His back and the back of his head were in terrible pain, as was his wand hand. He stood slowly as he rubbed his head, keeping a wary wand out in front of him, able to see nothing through the thick cloud of dust that had engulfed the street; he coughed as it filled his lungs. He could hear water flowing, but like the rest that surrounded him he could not see it. Padfoot swished his wand while saying "Evanesco!" and the dust vanished revealing a horrifying sight he would not have thought possible at the hands of the likes of Wormtail.

He was standing on the edge of a large crater that was surrounded on all sides by the partially burnt bodies of men and women. In the crater were even more bodies, more burnt than those outside and a few had water washing over them from a ruptured water main that was spilling it's contents onto the blacked dirt. There could be no fewer than a dozen.

Padfoot jumped into the crater and bounded for center, avoiding the bodies of those unfortunate enough to have come to Wormtail's rescue. Wormtail would be in the middle of all this, as dead as his victims and more badly burnt, he had been a coward and had taken a coward's way out and killed himself rather than allowing Padfoot the privilege. When he came to where Wormtail's body should have lain, however, he found nothing more of Wormtail than a burnt and blackened index finger. Padfoot fell to his knees and a single mad laugh left his lips. Wormtail had escaped, cutting off his own finger to make it convincing that he had died, and he, Padfoot, would be blamed for it all. Two more mad laughs left him. There was no way of avoiding it, though horrorstruck into silence now, the muggles would have quite a tale to tell the ministry once they arrived, about how they witnessed him attacking Wormtail relentlessly as Wormtail accused him of betraying Lily and James. More mad laughs escaped Padfoot, seemingly further frightening a few of his onlookers. Then there was his absurd threat of killing all of them if he had to, and of course, out of the three that had known he was not the Potter's true Secret Keeper two were dead and one was on the run, cleverly discussed as a lowly rat.

Padfoot began to laugh, more maddened and louder than ever. It was all he could do to release what he was feeling was to laugh, and he could not stop himself even if he had wanted to. He stood, laughing, and grasped his wand tighter; a puddle forming at his feet from the burst main. On and on he laughed, staring up at the sky, waiting for the Ministry stooges that would be there in mere seconds; tears stinging his eyes.

Padfoot heard a series of loud pops from all around him, each one followed by a sharp intake of breath. He barely noticed his own manic laughing anymore. There might not be any way of proving his innocence, but he had never liked the Ministry and he wouldn't be going to Azkaban without a fight!

"You there! Drop your wand to the ground and stay where you are!" a wizard said, sounding a little frightened.

Padfoot looked down from the heavens, held his wand as tight as he could and ran for edge of the crater; he would not make this easy for them!