Title: Peter has a Secret
By: Amanda
Feedback: sweety167yahoo.ca
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys. I promise to put them back when I'm done, whenever that is.
Timing: MWPP era to DH
Summary: They don't know the secrets that Wormtail holds.
Completed: October 1, 2007
Notes: Part of my look at things from the "villain's" point of view.
"Seems Pete won't be hanging around with us lot this Saturday," James announced as he bounded into the dorm.
"Oy," Sirius looked up from dangling over the side of his bed, "Petey-pooh have something better to do?"
I looked frantically to James, begged and pleaded without squeaking a word. He couldn't say anything, he wouldn't. Would he?
James' smile only grew, "Peter. Our little Peter. This boy here," he clapped me on the back, "has a date."
Remus looked up from his parchment- he was behind on essays since the moon- with a raised eyebrow.
Sirius rolled over onto his stomach. "With a girl then?" his mouth curved in a twisted mockery of a smile. The kind Sirius always had reserved for his teasing. Good-natured ribbing is what James always tried to defend. But I saw it as it was; mean.
Remus hid his face in his essay again. Always outside, always hiding. But I heard a warning Sirius from behind the parchment and fringe of shaggy hair, to which Sirius shrugged off.
Those two had their secrets: why couldn't James keep mine?
"Tell them who," James flopped down onto his bed, leaving me to stand in the centre of the room, alone.
I took a gulp of air. I wasn't going to tell them. I'd keep my own secrets, even if no one else would.
"Is it that Hufflepuff bird with the big…ears?" Sirius raised an eyebrow, "I've seen her watching our little friend like he was the last bowl of pudding."
James' smile twisted like Sirius', "Nope."
"The Ravenclaw with the lazy eyes?"
"Nope."
"That Slytherin girl that smells kind of funny, even for a Slytherin?" he wrinkled up his nose; one of the many traits he'd picked up from Padfoot.
"You're getting warmer," James chuckled, "But you'll never guess in a million years." His eyes twinkled with the joy of a secret. Mischief. Mayhem.
"Than I guess Pete better tell us," Sirius turned his full attention on me. Remus even chanced a look up. Curiosity, it seemed, could get the best of everyone. Even if he pretended not to care.
"It's no big deal," I glared at James, feeling my first flash of hatred for him. Why did he have to tell them? I begged him not to. Thought we could keep it between us. Like Pals. Just me and James. I never wanted Sirius to know. But should have known James never kept anything from Sirius.
"That's not what you said when you told me after Potions," James' eyebrows danced above his frames, "He sputtered and blushed like a great big tomato. You seemed pretty excited about it then Pete. Why not now?" He teased me. He'd started that ever since he and Evans started dating. He didn't need good ol'Peter to listen to his whining about undying love for her anymore, not now that he had her.
He betrayed me.
"Maybe he doesn't want to tell us," Remus spoke up again, rolling up his essay.
"Ah, but that's the thing Moony, why doesn't the lad want to tell his best mates?" Sirius stroked his chin, mulling over the question like one of those detectives in Muggle crime stories.
"It's a secret!" I blurt out, "or was supposed to be." I glared at James, but he only shrugged. He actually seemed amused.
"A secret!" Sirius gasped in his over dramatic style, springing to his feet, "We don't go keeping secrets from each other."
"Don't we Sirius?" this time Remus sent Sirius a knowing look and hidden smirk.
A small blush coloured the tips of his ears, "Not the point Moony dear."
They did that. They had whole conversations in codes like an old married couple.
"This here is about Peter," Sirius continued, making a large, sweeping gesture toward me, "and why he's got a secret. It hurts me that he doesn't want to share the good news."
"Not nearly as much as it'll hurt you to know who it is," James laughed.
Sirius turned to James, fixing him with The Look. The I-am-from-the-Noble-House-of-Black-so-don't-mess-with-me look. James always listened to the look. We all did. It was scary.
"Your favourite cousin," the smile slipped from his face, "Narcissa."
"What?!" Sirius spun on me, "You must be bloody mad! That's—That's," he sputtered he was so angry. And for what? A date our mothers had arranged because she thought I spent too much time with these three boys, and Narcissa knew none of the other families.
"It's the ultimate betrayal is what that is!" Sirius' eyes were wide and his nostrils flared. Mum had explained it.
I half expected him to snarl or bark. "I can't believe you, you snivelling, back-stabbing--."
"Sirius!" Remus had jumped to his feet, holding back the raving young Mr. Black. "Stop," he locked eyes with the other boy, instantly controlling him.
James hadn't jumped to my aid. He didn't move to calm Sirius either. In fact, he seemed Stupefied to his bed by the outburst.
Maybe he noticed it wasn't just good-natured ribbing anymore.
Sirius had resumed pacing the three steps between beds, raking his fingers through his hair. He stopped cold, "What if he tells her about Remus' furry little problem?"
I could feel the sneer pulling at my lips, "That's your job, isn't it Sirius." I had overstepped and said that out loud.
The three of them looked at me with slack jawed faces, the words soaking in. Little Peter had spoken out of turn.
Remus kept a hand wrapped around Sirius' arm to keep him from lunging at me. Wiry Remus had a lot of hidden strength – I was starting to think it was more than his werewolf persona.
"Padfoot, come on," he tugged back a step, "They'll just go to Puddifoot's for a butterbeer, struggle through some awkward conversation and that will be the end of it."
"It's really nothing," James rejoined the fray, slipping off his bed to stand with the group, "besides, his mum step it up. The Busybody." He tried a joke that was funny when we were in first year and mum would send letters and care packages every week. But now it was different in seventh year. It was funny for them to judge mum; she was old and alone, and only wanted what was best for her boy. She wanted her son to be more than the tag along to a trio of social misfits.
Things had changed.
Sirius narrowed his eyes at me, "Fine."
"If he wants to date that pale faced, nasty bitch than that's his business, I'm done." He took three stomping steps toward the door before he turned back; "You know that, don't you? She's cold and heartless, and mean." His voice lowered as if issuing a curse, "She's a Black."
Not to mention perfect. And noble, and popular. I knew better than to slip and say that out loud. I knew better than to admit that to James. To admit that to anyone.
I just nodded a meek Peter-knows-he-was-wrong nod and everything is settled. Or for now we'd act like it was.
Sirius would give me a strained smile. "At least it's a date," he joked. James suggested I use this as a chance to learn about Slytherin. Any information is good information. And Remus remained quiet, but offered a small smile for a crisis averted.
But none of them really knew now deep it ran.
None of them actually knew how long I had spent watching her, following her and wanting her. And certainly, none of them knew why our mothers really wanted to put us two teens together. It took me far too long to see what the plan was. School was ending and it was time to plan for the future. School-houses and classroom friends didn't have to dictate what path you followed. I could be more than the tagalong. More than the unimportant lump of a boy.
They didn't know the future that was offered to me that Saturday. The option of a calling, of belonging that was given with the touch of Narcissa's hand on mine. The curve of her mouth. The soft, sweet taste of her kiss….
How could I say no?
I was important. I was needed. I'd have a place in their ranks.
I gave them the one thing they wanted. The secret they wanted to know. James had a history of telling my secrets, so I told one of his.
Now I spend my days quivering on her dinning room floor. I hide in the shadows of her house, quietly stealing glances of her pale perfection. Stealing scraps to survive. Her husband sneers at me, her son ignores me. Our master plays us – but none of them know. They don't see the small smiles she offers me. They don't know what she's told me. They don't know how valuable doubt is.
They don't know the secrets that Wormtail holds.
And Peter will always trade in secrets.
End.
