Black as Night
I do not own any of the following characters. JK Rowling does. She owns everything in the Potter universe and is richer than the Malfoys. But not as mean. Obviously. Hope you enjoy the story.
* * * *
The first stop was Peter's place. Rumors were all over the place. He had to
make sure James was safe. He'd never be able to forgive himself, otherwise. He
rapped so hard on Peter's door, his knuckles were worn raw. Every sixty
seconds, he began a new tune on the door.
There was no answer. With his mind racing, Sirius turned away from the door.
What do I do? I have to warn them of these rumors. Even if they are just
rumors.
Deciding to break in, he checked the block. He didn't want to alert any
muggles. How would he explain breaking in to the muggle police? A mass
murdering wizard was after his best friend, wife, and child? That he planned to
say two magical words and cast them from this life? That'd go over really
well, he smirked. Shaking his head, he pulled out his wand.
"Alohomora," he said, flicking his wand at the door.
No movement. Something stronger then a lock. Some charm, some ward. Peter?
Something was not clicking. Peter had been given the Secret-Keeper role because
they thought that he was the least talented. No-Talent-Peter, he'd always
called him. Sure it was callous and uncalled for, but he followed James around
like a puppy dog. Everything he did was solely for James' approval. He had no
goals of his own.
Slowly, color drained from Sirius' face.
Or did he?
He could feel his hands shaking, his mind flying past thought after thought. He
ran around the back of the house. If - just if - he was lucky, Peter
would not have thought about the back door. Time after time, he'd had to remind
Peter that he was missing objects or steps. Maybe this time, he would have
forgotten. Sure enough, it opened.
The entire house was dark. Not a sound could be heard. Walking from the back
hallway to the kitchen, he saw it. Sirius picked up the torn piece of parchment
giving away the location of James and Lily Potter. Below it, the word tonight
had been underlined.
"FUCK!" Sirius began throwing items off the counter. They boomeranged
back at him, a pot hitting in just above the eye. The hot sting of a fresh cut
pierced his brain.
You're not going to do them any good if you can't even walk.
The next thing he knew, he was on his motorcycle, heading for Godric's Hollow,
heading towards his best friend in the world. Nothing would stop him. Not
muggles. Not Dumbledore. Not even the Dark Lord himself. He would get there,
and he would stop whatever nonsense was about to take place.
* * * *
The whole house seemed to be on fire, but not ordinary fire. His heart sank. No
one was outside of the house. There were no dancing lawn ornaments, no laughter
from inside the house.
If they are dead, I will not stop until Voldemort and Wormtail are dead. Or
I'm dead. I swear to the heavens.
He knew they were dead. All the wards to keep unknown visitors from entering
were gone. There was only one way those would disappear.
Only if those who placed them were dead.
In the sweltering fire, he saw one thing. Hagrid. Maybe they had been saved
after all? Maybe there had been an attack, and that's how the warding
disappeared? Maybe Hagrid set the place on fire to divert Voldemort? Maybe
Hagrid was the spy?
Hagrid caught sight of him standing in the doorway. "What're you doin'
here, Sirius?" His voice was thick with emotion.
"It's not.. They're not.."
Hagrid did not say anything in return. His silence was all the answer he needed.
For what seemed like ages, Hagrid leaned over and pulled something out of the
crib. A blanket to remember Harry by, no doubt. Hagrid always was a sucker for
children.
Sirius could feel his face well up with tears. He gritted his teeth against
them.
A small familiar noise came from the blanket. He blinked. Once. Twice.
"Harry," his voice came out thicker than he expected. He took a few
steps forward, but stopped in his tracks.
Lily Potter lay on the other side of the crib, her body draped on the floor as
if she were asleep. Sirius knew that Hagrid had closed her eyes out of respect.
He didn't want to see James. He didn't want to know what had happened.
Suddenly, he wished he had never known the secret. He wished he had never
befriended Peter in the second year. He wished he could take back every fight
he and James ever had. He wished he could do something anything.
And he knew there was something. He could take care of Harry. He was the
godfather, after all.
"Hagrid, I'm Harry's godfather. I think I should take him somewhere safe
for now." He looked up into the big man's tear stained face.
Hagrid only shook his head. He opened his mouth, and then shut it.
"Dumbledore be wantin' this here. Made me promise ter bring 'im."
Sirius knew he was right. "Then take my motorcycle. I won't need it where
I'm going."
Ignoring the quizzical look on Hagrid's face, Sirius ran out of the house. It
took his nearly ten minutes to realize that Peter would probably be running
right about now. Or he would feign ignorance. What would he do if it came down
to Wormtail's word against his? Would he be believed? Surely Dumbledore would
be able to see through it. He seemed to have a knack for it.
He had never been the smartest or the bravest, but he didn't lack for guts. He
didn't care at that moment what happened to him or the world, just that Peter
and Voldemort would pay. They would pay over and over for the rest of their
lives, and he would see to it that they lived long and painful lives.
It was almost as though he could feel the hatred filling him. He was drowning
in vengeance. Nothing else would satisfy him, except maybe death. He didn't
want to be in a world full of liars and backstabbers. He closed his eyes and
let the darkness consume him.
* * * *
When he opened them, he was standing in the middle of the street. He could see
Peter Pettigrew's house. All around, muggles stood and stared. Where did this
man come from, he knew they were thinking. He did not care. He was not afraid
of the Ministry and its minions. He didn't care about anything, except getting
revenge on Peter. Exacting the same kind of treatment on him that he bestowed
upon James.
He was supposed to be one of James' best friends. He was supposed to keep their
Secret from Voldemort, not tell it to him. Not lead him to their home. Not
destroy them.
He saw Peter running through the corner of his eye. Sirius knew he would not
outrun him. There was no way he would outrun him. When he finally caught him on
the street, Sirius grabbed Peter's robes.
Towering over him, Sirius felt his façade begin to break. He knew without a
doubt that Peter had betrayed them. He gritted teeth against the sorrow he
felt. Looking at his former friend brought it all flooding to him. He had to be
strong and take the high road.
He'd never been good at the high road. That was Moony's job. He'd always been
the one to get into fights or plan the most hijinks. He wasn't the one who
would listen to his head; it was always his gut.
And his gut was telling him to kill Peter Pettigrew. Now.
"Why'd you do it, Peter? Why'd you do it?" His voice grew more and
more harsh in his anger.
Desperately, Peter looked at him. "The Dark Lord.. he's tricky. He just
keeps coming and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I was a coward. I
didn't want to die. But it was them or me."
"So you really are a rat, are ya? Always knew there was something to that,
Pete. I always knew you were nothing but a lowly coward." Sirius's face
distorted into an anger so twisted, even he was afraid of it.
More and more people were coming out of shops to see what the commotion was.
The streets were lined with honking cars. People shouting at them. To Sirius,
it seemed that time had stood still.
Just this one last thing, then I'll take whatever comes to me, he
thought to himself. He screwed up his courage and reached for his wand.
Peter started to scream, "Why did you do it, Sirius? You were his best
man! You were his best friend. Why did you kill James and Lily Potter?"
Confused, Sirius stumbled backwards, onto the concrete. He held his wand
tightly in his hand.
"Hold it right there, Black." He knew that voice.
"Stun him, you idiots. Get him!" Sirius shouted to them. He pointed
at Peter with his wand. "He's the one who-"
"Why did you kill James and Lily Potter?"
There was a flash of light, followed by intense heat. Sirius fell forward onto
the ground. Underneath the clouds of smoke, he could see two things. A severed
finger and a rat.
I'll be damned, Sirius thought. He's a lot cleverer than I gave him
credit for. Sneaky little bastard. He started to chuckle. His mind was a
complex weave of emotions. Nothing seemed too stable for him. He wasn't sure
how things ended up the way they did, but in a shock of brilliant red light, he
was powerless and immobile.
He had been framed.
