"There is a spy among us." The fateful words often echoed in Sirius's mind, piercing his heart like a dagger. It had been hard to believe that a friend for whom he had done so much could betray him in this way, betray everyone. "Why would Remus turn his back on those who had risked so much to ease his pains?" he had asked himself. Yet at the same time, it had made sense. Sirius gripped his tattered robes with both hands in anger as he recalled the old thought process once again. It had indeed made perfect sense. He had been friends with Sirius and James, yes, but when did that ever come with a reputation of strict morality? In fact, it came with a reputation of sneaking about and bending the rules. And who could keep a secret better than Remus Lupin? Who could act as cool and nonchalant as one who had hidden his lycanthropy throughout his time at school? Remus was intelligent and obviously had impeccable qualifications for the job.

The hands on Sirius's robes tightened and twisted the worn material. How could he have been so stupid? It was too obvious to have been true. If only he had seen it back then. But of course, he hadn't. He knew, or thought he had known, what would happen next: Remus would alert Voldemort of the plan, he himself would be captured, and under the pain of torture -I would never have said anything! He interrupted his thoughts. I would have died before I said a word! His hands, shaking despite his tight grip, tore yet another hole in the abused robes. Why? How could I ever believe that I could do such a thing? But of course, he knew the answer to that. Secrets spilled left and right at the mercy of Lord Voldemort. With someone that dark and powerful, all precautions had to be taken. So he would let Voldemort believe that he was the secret keeper of James and Lily Potter; he would endure the torture for a lifetime as long as he knew that the true location could never be revealed. So who was the least likely to hold such valuable information?

Stupid fool! A growl escaped as his chest was torn apart by anger, by guilt. This cycle had continued so many times that, by now, it should've softened a little. True, Sirius no longer added his screams to the surrounding cries of devastation quite as often as he once had, but these thoughts ran through his mind on repeat so often that they were burned right onto his soul. A flame had ignited within him, and with every thought of the traitor who had destroyed so many lives, the flame grew more fierce. Perhaps this was the insanity kicking in, so why did it make him so much stronger?

Who was the least likely to possess information as valuable as the location of three people hiding from the most feared dark lord of all time? Sirius's eyes glinted in the moonlight as the flame in his chest flared. "Peter Pettigrew."