Ability and Probability
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort, didn't you?" Lupin screamed. The half-eaten door of the room around them creaked ominously. Sirius paid no attention to the sound, but gazed at him with a look of loathing only pain could produce. The three innocent children only looked on in horrified shock; they couldn't know how much pain he himself was feeling now—let alone how much he had felt in the past decade. "You've no idea," he pressed in an effort to make them understand, "the dark lord has powers you wouldn't dream of! What would you have done?!" he added in desperation, though his conscience cruelly reminded him they didn't even know she existed. "I would've died! I would've DIED rather than betray Lily and James!" Easy for you to say. He thought bitterly. I know you loved them, but now I'm suffering for loving more than you ever did. I couldn't take it. You wouldn't have survived either. But you wouldn't understand. You fiends. You aren't even capable of love anymore.
~ablilty~probability~ability~probability~
It was a brilliant day on the last day of term. The sun was spreading its arms across the sky and behind its head lazily and the meadow flowers looked on in blasé interest. A petite seventh year with soft, brown curls and eyes like a doe walked alongside a rather short, yet still rather attractive man, her ringlets brushing playfully around her neck, shoulders, and candy-apple cheeks, and looked up with adoration at her beloved. His left hand gently cradled her right, and he watched nervously as her free hand twirled a daisy between her fingers. They chattered happily as they made their way along a path around the castle but finally stopped under a weeping willow tree with a white wicker bench underneath it. The youth motioned for her to sit, and she obeyed, puzzled. He drew a deep breath, apparently steeling himself for something, then sunk to one knee and gingerly drew from his right pocket a ring. It had a beautiful, yet simple and small diamond set into it, and her eyes filled when she saw it, but her cheerful, adoring smile remained.
"Sarah, I love you."
"I know."
"More than you
know."
She didn't interrupt to contradict but continued to beam at him. His fear and nervousness dissipated from his face as she looked at him.
"Sarah, will you-"
"YES!!" she screamed. He grinned broadly.
"I didn't finish the question!" He joked, pleased, but surprised at the normally quiet girl.
"I don't care! I've been waiting months! I knew it had to be coming, and this is beautiful, but you KNOW I'm not patient, and I LOVE YOU TOO!" and she flung herself into his arms and kissed him. When they broke apart, though, his smile faded a little.
"What's wrong, Peter?" she asked, deep concern pouring from her eyes.
Always the observant one.
"There's a catch." She looked questioningly at him
"You can't tell anyone besides the people that already know. You have to hide this." He rushed, and pointed to the ring still in his palm.
"But why?"
He sighed. His happiness drained almost instantly. He was afraid this question was coming, and he didn't think he could bear to answer, but her innocent eye bored into him, and he forced himself to say,
"Because if You-know-who finds out, terrible… things…. Will happen. I can't bear to lose you, and I can't live without you. I love you too much to stand either one. I'm not strong enough."
She looked at him, then, sadly, as the moments felt like hours, she shook her head. He turned away, tears filling his eyes, and began trudging toward the castle. He had been walking for only a few seconds, when he heard a pain-filled voice whisper,
"Wait."
He halted immediately and slowly turned around. He could almost see flashes of the thoughts racing through her mind when he looked at her. Suddenly, images that were not his own flooded his consciousness and blurred his vision.
Sarah's hand was detailing a wedding plan while he sat beside her.
His hand's feeling Sarah's eight-months-pregnant stomach and his laughing face's talking to it.
A book on Sarah's lap and two small children on either side of her on a bed, giggling as he sprawled across the foot.
Their recent kiss playing over and over again like a broken record.
Sarah's face came into clear focus again, and there were tears streaming down it, but her lips formed the words, "I will." And he silently slid the ring onto her left hand. He slowly reached up and cradled her chin gently, and as their lips met, he knew that she couldn't bear to live without him either.
~ablilty~probability~ability~probability~
The little chapel was completely empty except Sarah, Peter, a tall man with jet-black and messy hair, a significantly shorter woman with long, red hair and emerald-green eyes, an incredibly old man wearing a pair of half-moon spectacles and a long, flowing, white beard that reached his belt, and two cats, one sitting beside the other in the front of the chapel. The first cat belonged to Lily and the second had strange markings around its eyes.
"Do you…" the old man started, but Peter barely noticed what he was saying, the young woman before him was so beautiful. Her curls had been mercifully kept down, and the simple, white dress she was wearing was incredibly beautiful. It curved around her figure perfectly, gathered behind and below her hips, and trailed along the stone floor below them. She also wore a white cape with silver clasps over her bare, pale shoulders, and her brown eyes were shining behind a sheer veil.
"… so long as you both shall live?"
"I do." He affirmed, barely able to hold back the flood of happiness coursing through him.
"And do you…" From behind him, he felt James pat his shoulder encouragingly. He had chosen James as his best man and Sarah had chosen Lily as her matron of honor because they too were in hiding. Dumbledore they had chosen to perform the ceremony, and Lily had commented that she thought they needed another witness along with Minerva, so she brought her own cat so the two could have "feline bonding time." Minerva actually looked at the moment as though she wished Lily weren't so eccentric. James just thought it was hilarious. He looked away from the tiny assembly and back into the beautiful face before him and felt a flutter of joy in his chest. Now was the moment all his dreams became reality.
"… so long as you both shall live?"
"I do!" the petite woman before him sang. Then came the words that are among the most wonderful a man could ever hear: "You may now kiss the bride."
And Peter completely missed the mischievous twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he pulled Sarah close with his left arm and caressed the back of her neck lovingly with his right. It was sheer bliss to feel the softness of her perfect lips on his, to feel her soft, brown hair in his hand, and to finally hold her against him like this knowing that they never had to let go… as long as they both shall live.
~ablilty~probability~ability~probability~
Peter was startled awake by a distant cry of despair. He had just had a marvelous dream, and now it was cut short. The cry continued for several minutes before Peter rolled over to face the back of Sarah's head and announced, "… I know you're awake."
"Darn it." Sarah mumbled groggily, "I was having a really good dream."
"It's your turn. I got her at one. It is now…" he paused as he reached over Sarah's still motionless form and pulled the muggle alarm clock into both their faces so he could read it properly, "… three thirty." She suddenly sat bolt upright in bed and said,
"HA! You forgot the two o' clock!" Peter groaned.
"I thought that was last night…"
In the dim light, he watched as Sarah smiled haughtily and shuffled back under the covers to greet hopefully another hour of uninterrupted sleep. Peter, however, shuffled into the adjoining room, muttering as he went. His shuffling shortly delivered him to a point beside the crib of their daughter, Sally Anne, from which the cries emanated. Upon closer observation, he dully noted that the only problem was a missing binky. He silently shot a thanksgiving prayer to heaven that this wasn't another soiled diaper, located the binky, and placed it back into its owner's mouth. The cries stopped instantly. He paused for a moment at the side of the crib to marvel at her; she was so tiny. How could something so tiny be so loud? And yet, she was beautiful. She had her mother's big, brown eyes and her father's small, rather pointed nose. He was glad she had her mother's eyes. They were the color of molten chocolate, were surrounded by Sarah's thick, long eyelashes, and seemed too large for her small, round face. She had also inherited Sarah' s mischief. Just the day before, Peter had lost his house keys. He had quickly summoned them and found only a key ring the size of a dime and keys the size of sewing needles attached to it and flying across the room. He then had glanced at Sarah who shrugged, nonplussed, then at Sally Anne, who giggled and cooed. The two parents had burst out laughing at this show of tomfoolery.
Right now, though, Sally Anne looked terminally adorable. Now that her binky was securely in teething proximity, her eyes were closed, lashes fluttering lightly as her breathing began growing heavier. As Peter watched her, though, one of her eyelids lifted a fraction of an inch and peered at him as if to say, "do you mind?" He chuckled as he heard a pair of slippers padding across carpet and felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around his middle, and he hugged them closer.
~ablilty~probability~ability~probability~
"NO!" Peter screamed, "I'll never tell you where Lily and James are! And you're a fool to think I would ever betray them!"
"That presents a problem, doesn't it?" said the man in front of him in a high, chilling voice, "that would mean you need some persuasion… CRUCIO!" Peter screamed and writhed as pain shot through his every cell. Icy daggers pierced every inch of his body, but he fought back the words bubbling in his throat.
"Now." Continued the voice in a dangerously soft tone as the pain slowly receded, "Perhaps that loosened your tongue. I know you are their secret keeper! Lord Voldemort knows, Wormtail. Now tell me!" And Peter looked into the red, lifeless eyes of the most feared wizard of all time, hot tears stinging his face, and whispered, "Never will I betray those I love... Tom."
Shock flickered across Voldemort's visage for a fraction of a second, but it was replaced almost instantly with disdain.
"Go on and kill me then." He continued, braver now, "You can't win. It's over."
"It is far from over." And Voldemort raised his wand. Peter braced himself for the pain, but it didn't come. Instead, the curse flew over his head and hit the wall behind him silently. Puzzled, Peter looked and was shocked to see that the rock wall had changed to glass, and on the other side sat Sarah, alone except for a woman with dark hair and heavily-lidded eyes. Fear filled her expression, but her eyes were closed, and Peter saw the answer to the one question in his mind. Just as a thousand times before, scattered images flooded his mind:
Sarah's arms pressing Sally Anne close as she raced up the stairs of their house in Godric's Hollow
Slamming the door of their room shut
Shoving a pillow from their bed into a basket and hastily wrapping the baby in a blanket
Tucking a note that read, "They're after us. Give my love. Don't come for us." into the basket
Watching Fawkes fly away with their precious child
Sarah's wand's casting a strong vanishing spell on the nursery
Blackout.
The images faded as Voldemort said, "she can't see you, but I'm going to ask you again. Where-Are-The-Potters?"
Peter's heart thumped madly against his ribcage.
"No." He finally said through gritted teeth. Voldemort flashed him an empty smile, rolled up his sleeve, and touched the dark mark. The effect was instantaneous. The eyes of the dark woman glittered with malice, and her thin lips formed the word, "CRUCIO!"
Earsplitting screams echoed down the corridors, ringing in his ears until the screams were his. His soul cried out in agony until his very heart was wailing. Eventually, the screams ebbed away, and presently, he looked up at the glass wall. It was as if he had looked into a mirror—she was doubled over in the same way as he was, holding herself and rocking back and forth, captor overshadowing her. The pain in her eyes was evident. He looked deeply into them and thought the words, "I love you." He watched her expression soften and heard her voice answer, "I love you too." He smiled and focused his mind's eye on the kiss at their wedding then watched as she smiled too.
Shall we go together? Sarah's voice said. He paused, then,
Are you afraid of death? She grinned
Oh, most definitely. And you?
Of
course… Ladies first. And he saw her smile sardonically. The
bond between their minds severed, and Lord Voldemort leaned over him
and hissed, "What if I just… ended her?" and he lifted his
finger to hover over his mark. Peter smiled, but looked over to the
glass one more time for reassurance. He didn't find it. Tears were
streaming down Sarah's face and she was holding her hands over her
heart and rocking steadily on her heels.
"She could live, you know." He whispered, "It doesn't have to be like this. I could just whisk her memory away and keep her here. She would be happy. She would be safe…"
Peter suddenly realized that he couldn't bear to watch it. He couldn't. His heart would be shattered. What about Sally Anne? He would never see his child again. He would be gone. His soul would not be restored by death. He wasn't strong enough.
"Wait." He said. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
~ablilty~probability~ability~probability~
Jerking back to the reality that was this neglected shack and these delirious men, he thought,
Sally Anne is my purpose now. You fiends cannot take her away from me. And he raced past Black and Lupin in an effort to escape, but it was in vain. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
