This is the first fic I've completed and shared with others. I'd appreciate any reviews and I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters, places, or situations belonging to the true master of the wizarding world: JK Rowling.
I didn't do it.
It's not a happy thought. Maybe that's why I still remember it. Because I certainly don't remember what it feels like to be happy anymore. I suppose I was once. Happy, that is. But all of that is just some sort of foggy idea like a half-remembered dream...
I didn't do it. But, it's still my fault. James... Lily... Harry... my fault. I'm innocent, but it's my fault. And I can still remember all that with perfect clarity, like it was yesterday. Damn Voldemort! Damn Peter! I was so blind...
...
Dumbledore knew someone close to the Potters was spying on them for Voldemort, that evil piece of filth. Caught up in the momentum of the war, where friend suspected friend, it was only logical—or so I thought—that Remus would be Voldemort's spy. Moony...
Knowing Voldemort was after the Potters, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to use Peter as the Secret-Keeper. Little Peter—no one would ever expect it! The perfect decoy! Dumbledore offered himself, of course, but James was determined that I should be the one... till I convinced him that the last minute switch would be a brilliant idea. Almost like old times!
...
Sometimes I'm not sure I want to remember at all. Sometimes, I think it would be better if I could just forget everything, like so many others in this hell hole who've gone mad. Transforming helps. When I'm a dog, everything is still there, but less so. It hurts less. I don't think the hurt will ever go away. But that's also what's keeping me from losing my mind. The pain. It reminds me that there were once people worth living and dying for. That there still are. Voldemort's gone for now, and Peter's hiding his face since the wizarding world thinks he's dead and he's lost his 'protector'. If he showed himself, the world would know him for the treacherous little rat he is. But Moony's still out there. And Harry. Harry survived. I didn't know at first, but he did.
...
It was about a week after the Fidelius Charm was performed. I went to check up on Peter one more time before going into hiding myself. As soon as I got there, I realized something wasn't right. The door to Peter's safe-house was open, but it hadn't been forced. There were no signs of a struggle. I immediately realized what must have happened. What I'd done. Little Peter. Who always hung around people stronger than him. Me, Remus... James. We used to be enough. I should have seen it. The rat.
I ran back to my motorbike and blazed a trail to Godric's Hollow, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be too late. It started to rain as I neared my destination. What I saw... I'll never forget. My heart plummeted to my feet as I stared at the ruins that had been my best friend's house. My brother and his wife.
I cut off the engine to my bike and stood in front of the house for who knows how long. Then I heard a noise and immediately took out my wand. I don't know who I expected to see. Maybe Voldemort—I'd kill him if I had the chance. Or perhaps Peter, whom death wouldn't be good enough for, but would have to do. What I didn't expect to see was Hagrid, ally of the Order and Dumbledore, making his way out of the ruins with a bundle of blankets. I stared blankly through the rain for a moment, when Hagrid reacted to seeing me by pulled out his pink umbrella before he realized who I was. "Hagrid?"
"Oh, it's jus' you Sirius."
"What happened, Hagrid?" I knew what had happened, but to take it all in... it was too much.
Hagrid just looked at me sadly. "He got to them, Sirius. I don' know how, 'spect Dumbledore migh' have some idea. He sen' me, you know. To collect Harry."
At this, I snapped out of my trance. "Harry? Harry's alive? But... how?"
"I don't know Sirius, but it's Dumbledore's orders that Harry be taken to his aunt and uncle's."
The shock that Harry was alive was only intensified by the fact that Dumbledore was taking him away from me. After I'd lost two of my best friends. Surely he would change his mind once I reminded him who Harry's godfather was. Harry was my responsibility. James and Lily had chosen me to care for Harry were anything to happen to them. And while I'd failed my best friend and his wife, I wouldn't fail their son. I swore right then that nothing would ever happen to put Harry in danger again. "Hagrid, give him to me. I'm his godfather. It's what James would have wanted."
"I don' doubt that James might'a thought differen'ly from Dumbledore, but it's a strict order. An' Dumbledore doesn' make decisions lightly. You know that, Sirius. Dumbledore says it's in Harry's best interest, see? Somethin' about keepin' him safe from You-Know-Who."
As the shock began to finally wear off, I could see that arguing with Hagrid would get me nowhere. I'd have to go straight to the source. Dumbledore would come around once I talked to him... he'd see reason. But if Hagrid was to take Harry to his aunt and uncle's, then I wouldn't stop him. I had more important issues to deal with at the moment. Revenge being at the top of the list. "Alright Hagrid. Take care of Harry. Here, use my bike to take him. I won't be needing it where I'm going."
"Thanks Sirius. Knew I could always count on you," Hagrid said as he heaved his leg over the bike, taking care not to startle the tumble of blankets holding my best friend's only son. I watched as he kicked off the motor and took to the sky. I blinked rain water out of my eyes as I watched until my bike shrunk to the size of a flea and disappeared. Then I began my hunt.
I can't remember everything I did after that, my search for Peter was so single-mindedly focused I know I must have been straining on the edges of sanity. I began by heading back to Peter's safe house, looking for clues. It took all my focus and strength to keep from remembering the house at Godric's Hollow. The ruins of the last place my best friend had been. I threw my whole self into that search. It helped that I could transform. Being a dog, I was able to find Peter's scent to follow, though I lost it a fair few times when he'd obviously Apparated. But Pete was a creature of habit, I knew that much. And I knew where his favorite haunts were. I probably knew more than he thought, having followed him quite a few times in the week prior to and after completing the Fidelius Charm. Just to be sure... but I'd obviously still been mistaken.
It was near one of these haunts that I found his scent again, and knew that I was very close—the trail was fresh. Looking around, I saw a few Muggles walking the streets, but none were paying attention to me, so I transformed out of my dog form. I was beyond caring if I was seen or not. There was only one thing on my mind: making Peter pay. I found him easily enough; he was just leaving a pub on the corner of the street when he saw me. I saw the fear in his eyes as I stalked nearer. Good, he should be scared, I thought as I drew near him. Instead of freezing up, or running the other way, like I expected, he surprised me by shouting loudly for the whole street to hear "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!"
And before I could so much as react to this blatant lie of a statement, little Peter, the talentless wizard everyone overlooked, blasted the street behind his back, cut off a finger and changed into the rodent he was, running down into the sewers with the other filthy rats.
I'll admit it, I cracked up then. I lost all sense of self and sanity. I laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh. It was a laugh of astonishment at the revelation that Wormtail was the spy. It was a laugh of shock that quiet little Pettigrew, follower of the infamous Marauders of Hogwarts, had hidden secrets and betrayed everything we Marauders held dear. That Peter had betrayed us—his best friends, and gotten the best of me. Me, Sirius Black, co-ringleader of the Marauders and mastermind of many a prank and plan plotted under the roof of Hogwarts.
And it was a laugh of pain. Of the pain I had unwittingly inflicted upon myself and the Potters when I made them take Peter as their Secret-Keeper. It was my fault, so I laughed.
...
It's been close to twelve years since I arrived in Azkaban. I should know—I've been keeping count on the walls of my cell. Every day is a living nightmare that I can't escape from. But still, I have my mind, because every day I re-live the worst days of my life—the day I put my trust in the wrong person and killed my best friend. Oh, I know it was Voldemort in the end. I know I didn't pull out my wand and Avada Kedavra the closest thing I had to a real family. I know, though, that it's my fault. I'm innocent of the crimes I've been convicted of (not that there was a trial, with that idiot Crouch in charge)... it's my fault but I didn't do it.
Someday, Voldemort will return to power. Something that evil can't have just vanished from the face of the earth when he failed to kill Harry. I don't know why, or how, but he'll be back.
And someday, maybe, someone will find Peter and then the truth will come out. It won't be a happy realization for many, I'm sure. If I ever get another go at him, though, I won't hesitate like I did before. And nothing would stop me this time from making that rat suffer.
...
I knew I had to escape. No one knew about Peter but me. No one would be looking for him. Maybe Moony'd recognize him... but no, he wouldn't think to compare the rat on the boy's shoulder of the Prophet's front page to the friend he knew at Hogwarts. Wormtail was suppose to be dead anyway.
Harry was in trouble. I was the only one who could help. So I transformed, slipped through the bars when the Dementors came to bring me my meal, and did the impossible because I knew I had to. I had to escape Azkaban to save Harry. I'd promised myself the day he lost his parents that I'd never put Harry in danger again. Revenge no longer mattered. All that mattered was Harry. The hunt began again.
