That Night
Written by Christina E Lupin
Summary: Let's revisit the night where Sirius Black lost everything and he goes after the man responsible: Peter Pettigrew. One-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. It is owned by J.K. Rowling and all businesses associated with it. I am just a 20-something writer who really likes Harry Potter.
--------------That Night-----------------
Sirius Black continued to stare down at his little godson in his arms, forehead still bleeding from the cut he sustained that evening. He used his robe sleeve to wipe the blood, revealing the odd lightning bolt-shaped cut. Sirius knew, as he was an Auror, what this would mean. Only those who had been touched by dark magic would have something left behind to show for it. It broke his heart that it had to be his godson, Harry Potter.
"I gotta take 'im back to Dumbledore, Sirius," Hagrid spoke, his voice husky with grief.
Sirius could feel the fight leaving him, leaving him empty except for one emotion: rage. Deep, never-ending rage. James and Lily deserved to be avenged for their sudden end. Besides, how could he care for a little child, especially one that greatly resembled his best friend? He was like a kid himself, but tonight, he didn't feel like a kid at all.
With great reluctance, he kissed his godson on the forehead, careful not to touch the still bleeding mark, and handed Harry over to Hagrid. "Take my motorbike, Hagrid. I will not be needing it anymore."
Hagrid stared at the young man in front of him before he hefted a leg over the machine. He slipped Harry into a makeshift sling around his shoulder and he revved the bike. Sirius watched as the giant rode down the street, a tear rolling down his dirty cheek, before he Apparated. He knew where Peter would be.
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Peter Pettigrew couldn't help the grin on his face as he bent over, puffing. It was done. It was really done. Soon, his Lord would come to him and offer him praise and maybe a higher position amongst the Death Eaters. He would never again be a nobody, a shadow behind the three most brilliant, sought-after boys in Hogwarts' history.
"PETER!"
He blanched and he instinctively turned around to face his old friend. He cowered back as he saw the expression on Sirius' handsome face. The way he looked, it was like seeing Orion Black all over again. Sure, the Marauders had never known the man, but they had seen a picture of Sirius' parents once.
"S-Sirius!" he squeaked, hating how his stutter came back. "Imagine seeing y-you here."
"Yes, it is," Sirius said quietly, "considering the events of this evening."
"W-what are you taking a-about?"
There, Peter thought. Just fake ignorance. Maybe that would get Sirius off of his back.
"You didn't know? James and Lily were murdered."
The shorter wizard screwed his face up in shock and grief. "H-how horrible! What about H-Harry?"
"He survived. Voldemort was defeated by him."
Peter allowed his true shock to surface. His Lord was defeated by a little baby? A brat? A babbling, drooling, bouncing child? How could this happen? Harry was nothing; he didn't know enough magic to know how to kill. The few nights he went over to the Potters house, Harry could only levitate and summon items he wanted. It was simply impossible.
"W-where is Harry? I-I would t-think he would b-be with you?"
He watched Sirius' face collapse into grief but the expression didn't last. Instead, it hardened back into a mask. "I know what you are trying to do, Peter. Cut the pleasantries."
Sweat began to bead around his hairline. "D-don't know you are t-talking about, Sirius."
"YES YOU DO!" Sirius roared.
Everyone around them stopped what they were doing and gazed at the two men. Peter groaned. He hated being stared at when his friends were around him. Why couldn't he be noticed just for who he was?
"You sold the Potters out to your Lord," Sirius whispered.
"I d-didn't! How c-could you think s-such a thing?" Peter stuttered. He's too close, he thought to himself.
"I knew you hated the three of us in school, but to hate us so much that you would want us dead? That's low, Peter. And you didn't even do it yourself. You knew the Dark Lord was looking for James and Lily and so you used that opportunity to tell him where they lived. The blood wouldn't even touch your hands and no one would know, right? But I knew better. You will not get away with it."
One thing Sirius did wrong, Peter noticed, was that he kept his voice quiet. As a plan formulated in his brain, he knew that he would get away. For the entire wizarding word was concerned, Sirius was the Secret Keeper for the Potters. If his plan worked, Sirius would be blamed for the entire thing, not him. No, for he would be thought dead, killed by the man who killed his other friend.
Peter secretly grinned and he slipped his wand out from his back pocket. A circle of spectators, all Muggles, were gathering around them. This is for you, my Lord, he thought to himself.
"HOW C-COULD YOU K-KILL THEM, SIRIUS?" he shouted, enjoying the look he got from his once friend. Sirius' eyes were narrowing. "H-HOW COULD YOU D-DO THAT T-TO JAMES AND L-LILY?"
Before Sirius could open his mouth, Peter whispered a spell under his breath, concentrating hard. The spell fired from his wand and screams were heard. He grinned at Sirius before he executed the next part in his plan. He used a spell to sever one of his fingers, biting back the whimper of pain. Then he transformed into his rat form and hurried down the opening he made with his earlier spell.
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Once the dust settled, everyone began to scream once more. A large crater stood where the short man had once been. Bodies littered the area, all dead. The only one that was standing was the dark man, who stared at the depression in the ground. Then he started laughing, a high maniacal laugh that chilled everyone's bones.
Sirius laughed and laughed as he realized what Peter had done. I wished we had known just how clever he was, he thought as he laughed. That was brilliant. He never heard the familiar popping noise of wizards Apparating until it was too late.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, a fellow Auror, stared in horror at the scene unfolding in front of him. He let the other wizards check on the Muggles as he neared the crater. Black robes were left on the ground, as if someone had stood there. A single, bloody finger rested on the soft fabric. Kingsley paled and he stepped back. It was then he heard the laugh and he turned to stare at Black, who was laughing. Rage burned his eyes.
"What have you done?" he whispered. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
Black continued to laugh.
He swiftly reached the man and he drew the man's arms around to his back. "Sirius Black, you are under arrest and hereby charged with thirteen counts of murders. The sentence is life in Azkaban. There will be no trial."
Kingsley handed the laughing man to the other Aurors and he surveyed the scene. What a mess.
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Finite.
