AN: Clearly I am not JKR, therefore, the characters in this story cannot possibly belong to me.
"Peter?" Oh let him be here... somewhere...the first floor is empty, no sign of a struggle, everything is exactly the way it's always been. maybe his room? Oh let him be there... It's no so much that I want him dead...but dead would be preferable to...to...betrayal... But there are already fingers of fear creeping up my spine...
"Wormtail?" I climb the stairs to the loft. Still nothing.
"It's Padfoot. If you're hiding, I advise you to come out..." Silence.
"Homeum Revelio!" No one but myself in the place...maybe he went out...
HA. Yeah right. And I work for Voldemort. He'd be too afraid to leave the house. The cold feeling has coiled itself around my gut. Surely not. Surely he wouldn't... but what else would the explanation be?
I thunder down the stairs, slamming the house door behind me. The engine of the motorcycle is revved and I'm half way to Godric's Hollow before my thoughts get any farther than this vague panic...
I fly over the ridge and I can see their house...
Damn. Damn. DAMN. No. NO. The house!
The top story has been blasted apart. There are no curses in my by no means limited vocabulary to express the full horror I feel...
I land and a massive figure emerges from the house. Hagrid. Holding Harry. My brain catches all the implications of this, but absolutely refuses to acknowledge them.
"Hagrid. HAGRID!" He looks up and his expression is one of profound grief. I feel like all sensation has been frozen by despair and fury. My hands are shaking, and I can't seem to steady them, even by gripping the handlebars.
"Sirius." he says thickly. Any hopes I may have harbored for the survival of my best friends are shattered as I run towards him.
James what have I DONE? How very desperately wrong I was about Wormtail. DAMN him. I've as good as killed you.
"Where are they?" My voice sounds strange even in my own ears. I clench my fists in a vain attempt to stop them shaking.
"James's in the hall an' Lily's in Harry's room. I'd've moved them ter th' same place, only Dumbledore told me ter do nothin' but take Harry."
"I'm going to see for myself." I push past him. I have to see for myself. I throw open the door and am rooted where I stand. I feel like I've been hit in the stomach with a Bludger. What ever I had imagined, NOTHING could have prepared me for seeing Prongs slumped against the wall as if he'd been blasted there as he tried to block the way up the stairs. His wand is nowhere in sight. He couldn't even defend himself. If Voldemort hadn't already fallen, I'd hunt him down and kill him myself. I blink fiercely, my eyes burning. This is worse than all the battles I've ever fought combined. This is worse than my worst nightmares. Prongs. My best mate. My brother. James...dead... No. Those two words should NEVER be in the same sentence. Some how I manage to get to the top of the stairs. And there in front of Harry's crib lies Lily. Her flaming hair is fanned around her head like a flaming halo. James' angel. Her hands stretched out, as if imploring. She didn't have her wand either.
My best friends dead. Both of them.
Nothing I can do can redeem me from the guilt of allowing this to happen, however inadvertently.
Harry.
No. There is this. I can try to give my godson the home I took from him. The home that, had I stayed Secret-Keeper, he still would have had. This much I can do for Lily and James. I run back downstairs and out the door.
"Give Harry to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather, I'll look after him." Please...
"'Fraid I can't Sirius, Dumbledore's orders, see." His voice is a mixture of regret and attempted comfort.
"Let me take Harry, Hagrid." The desperation in my voice sounds alien to me. "Let me take him. He's my godson." I'm begging. I can't remember the last time I begged... Please Hagrid...please...let me do this for Lily and James...
"I can't Sirius. Dumbledore says ter bring him ter Lily's sister an' her husband."
"But why? I'm his godfather. They wanted me to take him if...if...if something happened to them."
"I know, 'n that's what I tol' Dumbledore, but he says this is the way it has ter be."
They've trapped me. Left me with no way to vent my grief. My fury. My passionate desire for revenge.
Wormtail. PETER.
I feel like a massive jolt of energy has been shot through me channeling all the hatred, anger, resentment, agony and rage I've ever felt in my life. It thunders through me. I will make that sniveling, traitorous RAT regret the day he was BORN. Death is too good for him.
"Take my bike then. I won't be needing it anymore." Because once I'm done with Peter, the Ministry will chuck me in Azkaban. I shove the keys into Hagrid's hands ignoring the expression on his face.
"You'll be faster." I feel nothing giving up my bike. I can't. Not tonight. I can feel nothing but the desire to make Peter experience the same anguish, the same pain, doubled. Trebled. Now I know I should have trusted Remus. He would have stood by James till the bitter end. And I should have known it. But I went to that RAT instead. And I thought I was being so bloody clever. Hagrid mumbles his thanks and his promises to return the bike, and what sounds like words of comfort, but I am beyond the reach of anything but the almost manic desire for revenge. For justice. Not just for myself but for Lily and James and Remus and Harry. Peter can't hide from me. He can hide, but I'll tare London apart to find him. He can try to fight, I'll tear him limb from limb with my bare hands if I have to.
There isn't anything I wouldn't do anymore.