Disclaimer: All characters you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling.
I stood on the porch, my fist inches away from the door. I wanted to knock, but every time my hand got too close to the door, something would stop me. I knew that going was dangerous, that I could give everything away, but it didn't stop the need I had to go inside. Finally, resolutely, my fist met with the hard wood, and I closed my watery eyes, relieved that I'd managed, at I wouldn't have to stand out front for much longer. It still made me uncomfortable, standing in the muggle world in wizard clothes. I knew that the neighbors tended to avoid this house (most normal people did, all things considered) but seeing a man wearing what they would think of as a dress was more than enough to draw curious glances. You'd think having the three most popular boys in school as my best friends would have fixed my aversion to the spot light, but no. I still shied away from others.
The door flew open, revealing a pretty red headed woman holding a small baby boy. A smile lit her face when she saw me and she quickly ushered me inside.
"Peter!" Lily Potter greeted happily. "How are you?"
"Fine, thanks" I hated my squeaky voice. Apparently looking mousy wasn't enough—I had to sound mousy as well. I turned stern, "You know you should really make sure it's me before opening the door."
She rolled her eyes, "I figure a Death Eater probably wouldn't knock before entering. Can I take your cloak?"
"If you can manage."
She laughed. It was a beautiful sound in the midst of the darkness our world had become. "Nonsense. I've been learning to do everything one-handed. You don't think I'd trust James to hold Harry." The black haired baby straddled to her hip cooed at the sound of his name. Her voice suddenly became serious, "Did Dumbledore send you? Is something wrong?"
"No, no," I assured her, "I just thought I'd stop by and visit old friends." I bit my lip nervously. That wasn't entirely true. Something was wrong, but—it could wait.
"James'll be awfully pleased to see you. He hasn't take to this hiding thing too well. Sirius hasn't been here for nearly two weeks, and we haven't heard from Remus in a month." She had lowered her voice to a worried whisper. "He's getting frustrated. It grows every day. I don't know how long he can keep living like this."
"Prongs wouldn't keep too well with staying hidden. He's always been at the front of everything. I reckon he sees hiding as cowardice," I agreed softly.
"Regardless, it'll help that you're here," Lily said briskly, leading me into the living room. "Mind watching Harry? I'll just be a moment in fetching James." She set the small boy on the floor. "Mind you, ever since he took his first step he's constantly been on the move. Can't take my eye off him for even a moment."
"He is the son of a Marauder, Lily. Troublemaking's in his blood," I smiled indulgently. It was hard to be anything but happy in the presence of James' son. "I'll be careful with him."
Lily vanished out of the room. I heard her steps disappear up the stairs before turning an eye to Harry, who'd already stood up and was wobbling dangerously toward me.
"Womy," he pointed with great concentration. "Choclat."
"Sorry mate, I didn't bring any chocolate with me," I showed my empty palms apologetically, biting back a laugh.
"No?" the boy pouted, his green eyes, so like his mothers, wide.
"Already begging, you little scamp?" A tall man scooped up the boy, swinging him high. The boy's giggles filled the room as James Potter set his son back down. "Three guesses who taught him that, eh, Wormtail?"
"It's no more than you deserve for naming Padfoot his godfather." I stood up, and we embraced each other in a brotherly fashion.
"It's good to see you, mate." James held me at arms length his hazel eyes scanning me. It was hard not to look away. James was always so damn perceptive when it came to his friends that I knew he'd see through my calm, collected act in an instant. "What's the matter? You look stressed."
"I'm just busy with work and the Order," I said nonchalantly, brushing it off. I didn't meet my friend's eyes—I couldn't. "The usual."
James' face darkened and Lily laid a calming hand on her husband's shoulder. "I had just finished dinner. Would you like to join us?"
"Would I ever. I haven't had homemade food since I last came over." How did the others act like nothing was the matter when they went home after torturing hours? How in Merlin's name did they not break down instead of being so casual… so frighteningly normal
"I'll just add another plate, then."
James looked after his wife sadly.
"Is everything all right, Prongs?" I noticed the expression. Something about Lily was bothering her husband.
"She's been like that since we came here. Hiding her feelings behind a mask. I know she hates it here as much as I do, but—"
But I waited patiently. James had always been extremely open with his emotions. While he could be a marvelous liar, he rarely chose to display that side of him—noble and moral as he was—and those who knew him well could always read his feelings anyways, so James had never tried to hide them from those he loved.
"I feel like it's my fault. She's hiding it because I haven't been. One of us has to be the strong one and right now I'm forcing her to be that one!" he slammed a fist into the wall.
"I—" A tug on his pants brought his gaze to the floor. Harry had a bit of his dad's pants grasped in his small fingers. He was looking up at his father with confusion.
James sighed and picked up the one year old boy. "I have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing this for my family. So that he can live safely during his childhood. It's the only reason I'm still here, concealed." His voice was cracking, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Daddy?" Harry's tiny arms wrapped themselves around his fathers neck lovingly. He gave James' cheek a loud kiss, and then gazed at his father hopefully.
James couldn't help but crack a smile. Everything was so much simpler with children. Any injury could be healed with a kiss, any hurt with a hug. And James reveled in his son's innocence, hoping that his son would never lose it and wondering when we had.
"Daddy's fine, Harry. Don't worry. Daddy's okay."
"Kay?" Harry's face brightened at the word.
"Yes—hey!" Harry had grabbed James glasses and was waving them around like they were a prize. I couldn't help but let lose a loud chuckle. "Harry! Daddy needs those. He can't see without them! Harry! Oh, shut up, Wormtail."
Harry paused, and bit his lip with extreme focus. Carefully he placed the glasses on his own face. They slipped to the end of his own nose, but luckily didn't completely fall off. "Hawy Daddy."
"Yes, Harry, you look just like your Daddy." Lily had returned from the dining room and joined me in holding back a laugh. But what she said wasn't too far off. With the glasses, Harry looked just like a miniature James. They shared the same messy mop of black hair, facial features, even the smile. In fact the only thing of Harry's that wasn't a scaled down version of James' corresponding part was his almond shaped green eyes, which clearly came from his mother.
Lily removed the frames from her son's nose and put them on her husband's, giving both boys a short peck on the cheek.
Dinner was a small affair filled with more laughter as James unsuccessfully attempted to feed Harry his dinner. By the end of the feeding process, James had more food on him than Harry had actually swallowed. I hadn't enjoyed myself so much since I'd joined… I quickly clamped down on that notion. I wasn't going to ruin my evening.
"Laugh all you want, Wormy. He's isn't much better for Lily. He only eats properly when Sirius—" he stopped and engaged his attention to making Harry eat the next bite. I knew James missed Sirius. The two were closer than brothers, and knowing Sirius was out there fighting and in considerable danger was undoubtedly killing the young father.
"Did James show you the broomstick Harry got for his birthday? Harry loves it, of course." Lily was watching her husband anxiously. It shocked me how quickly the tension in the room could appear.
"He's a Potter, obviously. Potters and flying are like fish and water. I've never met a Potter who isn't a natural in the air," James declared passionately, but less so than customary for the former quidditch star.
"Mind you, he nearly flattened Elessar with it. Poor guy wouldn't leave our room for a week."
"Speaking of him, where is that nasty cat?" I glanced around, searching for signs that the cat was sitting in wait for me. I swear that cat hated it me. And all right, I probably wasn't the kindest to it either, but you can't blame me for hating something that tried to eat me at every possible opportunity.
"Pete! He's not nasty. But I kept him in the study, because we know you're not too fond—"
"Oh don't sugar coat it, Lils. We know you despise him." James couldn't hide the amusement, and I groaned realizing the memories he must be recalling.
"James!"
"It's the truth!"
"Tactless prat."
"You love me for it." I rolled my eyes. The two of them would start bickering at the smallest provocation.
"Insufferable, incorrigible—" James silenced her with a kiss. Lily melted under his gentle kiss without even meaning to. And then they could make up just as quickly.
I cleared my throat loudly. "Honestly, there are children in the room. And I'm sure you don't want Harry sitting through the birds and the bees conversation already.
James and Lily separated, both looking slightly abashed. Harry gave a small giggle at his parents' blush, which was interrupted midway by his third yawn in the last few minutes.
"I think I'll go put Harry to bed, James."
"Isn't it early?"
"He did miss his nap today," she pointed out, removing the boy from his high chair. Harry started struggling the moment he realized where his mother was taking him.
"NO! NO!" The black haired boy protested firmly, squirming. "Mummy!"
James and I could hear Harry's screaming protests all the way to his room. Lily's soothing singing eventually calmed the child down, and soon enough we could sense nothing of what was transpiring upstairs. "Wormtail? You promised to tell the Marauders everything, right?"
"What?" I stuttered nervously. He couldn't know, could he? And I mentally slapped myself. Of course he could. James Potter: genius, best friend, and absolutely impossible to hide anything from. Remus found out in his second year. I just hoped I wasn't finding out now.
"I mean, you'd tell us if something was going on. You wouldn't hide anything, you'd tell us the truth," James said intensely, his hazel eyes staring directly at me. I hated that look. We all did, to some degree. It made you feel transparent, like someone could see right through you.
"Of course, Prongs," I agreed, dreading James' response. I was sure that if it came down to it, I wouldn't be able to lie to that look. Or at the very least, lie well.
The bespectacled man nodded with satisfaction at the answer. Then he leaned closer to me, and it took every ounce of my courage not to transform into a rat and scurry away. "I need to know, Peter. What's going on out there?"
"Huh?" I asked, honestly confused. If his goal was to confuse me into admitting my involvement than it was working. I had no clue what he was referring to.
"What's happening out there while I'm sitting happily at home doing nothing?" James demanded, his fingers clenched in a fist. "Who's been dying because they've risked there lives defending what they believe in, instead of hiding with their family? What's Voldemort been up to?" I winced at the name of the feared Dark Lord, but James paid no attention. "What's the Order doing? What's going on?"
"Oh." And I felt the butterflies disappear from my stomach. He didn't know. He wasn't talking about that. So, I was quick to respond, "Marlene McKinnon went into hiding with her parents shortly after you did—"
"I already knew about that. They're down South, in West Bristol, just off the coast. The McKinnon family has a house there," James waved an impatient hand. "What's happened recently."
"Nothing major," I gulped at my lie. The truth was, nothing was going right. "A few skirmishes. Remember Benjy Fenwick? His sister was killed. A few aurors have been lost as well. It's not going well, Prongs. At this rate—"
"Don't say it, Wormtail. We will not lose. We cannot."
"But James… If we do, well, you're a pureblood—" It was a lost hope that he'd even bother listening through my advice.
"I will not join Voldemort," James thundered. He seemed majestic in his own right, like a king from the stories of old.
"He'll kill you!" I shrunk under the power my school friend seemed to suddenly radiate.
"I'd rather die than serve that monster, just as I know you, Sirius and Remus would do," James declared fervently and I knew that he would follow through with his statement. Stupid, noble, moral… The list didn't end. But if James wasn't all those things he wouldn't have been James.
And here came the statement I'd been dreading. "I've always been the coward of us, Prongs. Hidden behind you—" It bit into my confidence to admit that. But it was the truth…
"Stop," James said soothingly, grabbing my left arm as if words couldn't bring him close enough. I winced under him—of all arms, he had to choose that one. "You are a Gryffindor, mate! You were placed into the House of the Brave for a reason. You didn't become a Marauder because we pitied you. We saw something in you, Wormtail. We know you have courage. You just need to find it."
I felt the tears well up in my eyes, but quickly blinked them back. I'd often wondered why James, Sirius, and Remus had befriended me. If it was pity, I'd never noticed it in their eyes. If it was just plain kindness, than they would have helped many other boys as well. I'd never thought they'd gotten to know me because they wanted to. I'd never realized that all those years where they declared me their friend wasn't because of their inane overprotective and caring tendencies, but because they actually believed it.
The guilt from my choice had never been worse. For the first time in the long months since I'd made the agreement with the devil, I faced admitting the truth. Maybe I could tell James. And just maybe James might forgive me for my terrible crime. I swallowed nervously before—a sharp jolt of pain on my left forearm forced me to jerk the arm out of my friend's grip. James flinched at the shift as if it had hurt him, and I knew it had. From his perspective it would have looked like a disagreement.
I made a show at looking at the clock, and then I stood up stretching, knowing how much my words would hurt my best friend. "It's getting late, Prongs. I should be getting back."
"The sun hasn't even set, Wormtail. Anyway, you're welcome to stay the night here! We haven't had guests in ages." He looked concerned and worried—two things that I had no right to. My leaving wasn't his fault, but it certainly appeared that way to him.
"I can't stay. I have some paperwork I need to get done for the department before tomorrow afternoon," I fibbed again as another tremor of pain hit his arm. "And I wouldn't be caught outside after dark. Not with all the death eaters and dementors on the loose."
Honestly, I was no better than a manipulating, Slytherin toe-rag. Snivelly was more of a Gryffindor that I was.
A brief look of sorrow crossed James' face and I couldn't help but add as a comfort, "I might be able to stop by tomorrow night."
I owed him that much at least, didn't I?
I stood up and hurriedly made my way to the door, ignoring the third painful vibration. I could hear Lily still singing Harry to sleep as I stepped onto the porch, wishing that I didn't have to go. With a loud crack, though, I vanished.
"You're late," a terribly cold, high pitched voice resonated in the room I appeared in. I managed a clumsy, low bow.
"My Lord, I apologize. I was with members of the Order when you called." It was easier not to single out James and Lily by name. I didn't try to betray them and I certainly didn't want to. But I couldn't lie to my Master. Nor could I withhold information. But as long as I could draw his attention away from the Potters and to other Order members, James and Lily were safe. And in the end, that's what mattered.
"I didn't call you here to listen to your excuses, Pettigrew." I closed his eyes, waiting for the stabbing of thousands of white hot knives that generally accompanied my Master's displeasure, but to my relief it never came. "Stand up, boy."
I obeyed and for a short moment, my eyes met with the appalling sight of the resident fear of the wizarding world. Lord Voldemort may have been described as handsome once, but not even the most romantic of people could find any trace of good looks when they saw him now. I hastily looked down at my shoes once more.
Coward.
If James was here, he would have met the Dark Lord's glare with his own. He would never have bowed down to this evil, masochistic bastard. But if James was in my position, I remembered, he'd be dead.
"I've been rather quiet lately, haven't I?" The Dark Lord mused, spidery, white fingers stroking his chin. "That'll have to be fixed." I stood there in silent terror as the man whose name was feared throughout our world pondered over who his next victim ought to be. Please, anyone but them.
"Tell me, Pettigrew," he said in that awful voice of his, "do you have any knowledge as to where the McKinnons have fled?"
My stomach sunk to my toes while I let out a sigh of relief.
Relief—because my best friends were to be left alone.
Horror—because he was going after another family. A family I'd grown to like tremendously over the last few years.
Oh, James, why did you have to tell me tonight? Why couldn't you have kept the McKinnon's location to yourself? Why must you trust me so much?
"Speak quickly, boy! My patience grows thin."
"Yes, my Lord." I couldn't avoid it. I told everything I knew about the McKinnon's hiding spot and with each word I spoke, my revulsion for myself grew.
"You have pleased me, Pettigrew," Lord Voldemort said when I finished. "And Lord Voldemort always rewards loyalty. What is it you desire?"
"The same as I have always, my—"
"Yes, yes," the disgust was plain on the Dark Lord's face, "the safety of the werewolf, Black, and the Potters. And as always, I answer that as long as they don't oppose me, they shall be safe." He was sneering now; both of us knew there was no possibility of James, Remus or Sirius submitting without a fight. "Now, leave. I don't want you here when the others arrive."
"Others, my lord?" I almost kicked myself for questioning the order, but once again luck was on my side.
"Of course! You didn't think I'd deny my servants the pleasure of killing the McKinnon family. They've been a thorn at my side for far too long and responsible for the capture and imprisonment of many faithful death eaters."
I gave another short bow, before apparating to my apartment in London. I didn't even bother to hang my cloak, throwing it on the couch before walking tiredly to my room. I didn't bother to change before falling onto the bed with a thump, sighing. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Sighing with boredom, or unhappiness, or self-hatred… Not that I didn't deserve any of it, cowardly, faithless traitor that I was. I tossed my wand onto my nightstand, clumsily, knocking over a picture frame. I sighed, leaning down to pick it up, nearly dropping it again when I saw which picture it was.
How ironic! The world was truly out to get me!
It was the afternoon after our final N.E.W.T exam. We were sitting under our tree on the grounds, the four Marauders with the three girls we'd been closest to during our Hogwarts years. James, as per usual, was in the center of attention, one arm snaked around Lily, and the other around his cousin Josie, one of the early casualties of the war. I was watching him reverently (not that that had changed). James had been my idol, my hero, my protector, the person I wished I could be instead of the insignificant, stupid rat I was.
And then, sitting off to the side was Sirius. It was one of the rare occasions he had not joined James in the center of our group. Instead, he was with his sixth year, Ravenclaw girlfriend. I gulped. Marlene McKinnon, in all her beautiful glory, was murmuring with the most handsome boy at Hogwarts, but staring directly out the frame at me. Then, as if she understood, she gave a small smile and turned back to Sirius.
I choked and the tears that had been threatening to fall all evening did. It was as if a torrent had been released… I couldn't stop. I was being silly, I knew, foolish even. I'd been spying against my friends for nearly a year, and I chose now to be the first time I'd actually felt horrible about the information I'd given. This is also the first time you knew that your information would kill someone, a voice in my head defended.
I let out a hollow laugh. I didn't deserve to be defended. I wasn't worthy of anything but hate and disgust.
Murderer, another voice spat, and I approved of that. That's what I was. Her blood, her death, was entirely on my hands.
I'm sorry Marlene. Please, forgive me.
I knew she shouldn't. I didn't merit any sort of pity. But I knew that had she been here, even now, she would forgive me. She wouldn't hold my involvement in her death against me for too long. She was braver than I could ever be. Than I ever would be.
You're a Gryffindor!
I snorted at James' statement from earlier that day. I wasn't. No Gryffindor would have sold out their friends the way I had.
But, James' words from earlier that night still kept ringing in my head:
You have courage.
You're a Gryffindor, Peter.
You have courage
You just need to find it
You have courage
You just need to find it
Find it
Find it
It was with that chant repeating in my head that I finally went to sleep.
I opened my eyes the next morning, only to shut them at the bright light permeating throughout my room. What the…? It was sunny? But that would mean… I squinted through my eyelashes at the clock on the table next to me. I jolted out of bed. Stupid clock must be broken. There's no way it could be eleven thirty. I hadn't slept for more than six hours a night since—well, since I'd joined him. I peered out my window, half expecting someone to jump out and scream "April Fools!" or something of the like (though I suppose living seven years in the same room as James Potter and Sirius Black gave one a good reason to suspect a prank whenever anything was unexpected).
The sun was almost at the midway point in the cloudless sky, an anomaly for London, at any rate. The last time the sky had been a never ending blue in London was—actually now that I think about it, I can't even remember such an occurrence. So, all in all, the day was looking beautiful. I scowled.
Lovely.
It would be a day where everyone would be all cheerful and optimistic, which, quite frankly, would ruin my depression. For Merlin's sake, was it really too much to ask for one day of pure, unhappy sulking? One day of blaming myself for Marlene's death before being forced to kill someone else? Maybe this was my punishment. My scowl deepened and I trudged sullenly to the bathroom.
While I waited for the shower water to warm, I glanced at my horrible reflection in the mirror. Yikes! I'd never been considered handsome (how could I with James and Sirius as my best mates?), but I'd always had a sort of boyish charm to my chubby features. That had disappeared. The tears from last night had tried on my face giving it yellow, waxy appearance. My eyes were sunken and red, as if I hadn't slept for decades. I turned away. As much as I had tried to lie and tell myself I was doing the right thing, I knew it wasn't. Something had to be done. I couldn't do this anymore.
I rushed through my shower and meal with a sense of urgency, knowing that if I hesitated I'd lose my courage. And then I found myself staring at James and Lily's door, my clenched hand hovering inches away from it.
This is it, Peter.
I swallowed and knocked, impatiently rolling back and forth on the balls of my feet.
"We weren't expecting you until evening, Peter." Lily welcomed brightly, reaching for my cloak.
I gave it to her, listening intently for signs of Harry, because James was sure to be at the same place. That boy was never left without someone ensuring his amusement.
"He's upstairs, giving Harry a bath." Lily was smiling shrewdly, knowing that she had guessed my purpose. Lily may have been a good friend to me, but James was a more than that. I wouldn't come just for her.
"May I?" I gestured to the stairs with my hand, and she nodded brightly.
"It'll give you something to laugh about, that's for sure." She disappeared into the next room. I looked after her, suspiciously. Lily may not have been one of the Marauders, but she had married one and could be just as tricky if she so wished.
As I reached the top of the steps, Harry's giggles became extremely obvious, as did James' voice. I winced when I heard a loud splash from the bathroom, and James' even louder protest.
"No! Harry! Daddy doesn't need another bath."
Another splash.
"Stop! The water stays in the tub!"
A loud thump, as something heavy hit something (or someone) hard.
"Ouch! Harry! No!"
I gulped. It was a natural reaction to James' icy tone. It was a voice he rarely used, but when he did, it received almost instant compliance from its recipient. And on the odd occasion that the tone wasn't enough, it would be accompanied with his famous glare, a cold look that could only be pulled off by those from the ancient families. And unfortunately, much to Lily's chagrin, both James and Sirius had managed to perfect the hard, frosty expression that topped even hers at her most dangerous.
A whimper, then:
"Oh, never mind. Go ahead."
Whatever Harry was planning on doing was stopped, because he caught sight of a shocked me standing in the doorway. I'd never seen anyone ignore that voice, but a one year old just did and got away with it!
"Womy," the boy declared, evidently pleased with himself.
James spun around, in surprise. "Wormtail!" His usually disheveled raven hair was soaked and even more messy than usual. The front of his clothes was plastered to his skin, showing off the muscular chest I'd always envied.
"Lily told me you were giving Harry a bath. Seems like it's the other way around, doesn't it?" I realized what was behind the secret smile of Lily's when she sent me up here. James was just as wet as his son.
"Funny…" James said grumpily. "I don't know how it happened, but somehow I was delegated all the messy jobs with Harry."
"It's that woman of yours, mate. She's got you whipped." James had been continuously teased on the Lily front throughout our education at Hogwarts and it was still a long standing joke among our friends on how devoted James was to his red headed wife.
"I don't regret a moment of—" James let out a string of swear words, as another one of Harry's bath toys became acquainted with the back of the young father's head. He flinched, waiting for the reprimand from Lily who always managed to hear us when we swore, but it never came. We both let out the breaths we'd been unconsciously holding. I'd rather face a dragon than an angry Lily, and I knew James felt the same.
"That's it, young man." Harry giggled at James' attempted sternness, "Your bath is over. I swear if you didn't have the body of a seeker, I'd put you in as a beater. Your aim's certainly good enough." Lifting his son out of the water, James carefully dried the boy and dressed him.
I looked at the family portrait on the wall. Would I have to ruin this family too, soon? Would I be able to betray my best friends? I shivered, recognizing that the answer would be yes. If my life was threatened, I would. And that sickened me.
"Wormtail—" James started, but changed tactics, "Peter, what's the matter? What's wrong?" The use of my real name, rather than the nickname, signified the seriousness of the matter. We didn't use our first names unless we were in a situation that merited nothing but solemnity. And my expression was worrying enough to James that he felt that a conversation of that sort was required.
"I need to talk to you."
He gave a nod, all playfulness vanishing from his expression. "Let me just give Harry to Lily then." We journeyed in silence to the study, where Lily was reading in a large cushioned chair.
"Lily?" She looked up from her book, receiving the unvoiced message from her husband.
"I'll take him. You two can sit in here." She knew some things stayed between the Marauders and respected us enough to not push in where she didn't belong.
I took a nervous breath as the door clicked shut. It had been a no brainer to come to James to confess. Of all of my friends, James was the most likely to believe me when I said I was done spying. Although a Gryffindor through and through, Sirius had spent too much time as a Black not to be suspicious of everything. And Remus, though the mildest of my friends, took any sort of betrayal to heart. No, James was the best choice. But now that I was here, I was starting to have second thoughts about the situation.
It was funny actually. Not until this moment had I thought of what would happen if James didn't forgive me. In fact, it had never crossed my mind that James wouldn't forgive me. Once you earned his trust—his love—it was nearly impossible to lose it. He'd forgive even the gravest sins.
"James, I think—no—I know that—I mean—"
"Spit it out, mate," James urged gently.
"I've made a mistake—"
"We all do, Pete. It's nothing to get all nervous about." James' voice was relaxing, but he wasn't helping to abate any of my growing frustration. He was missing the point entirely.
"No. This is different. This is important!"
"All right!" James looked alarmed now; I rarely got this riled up over something. "Sor—Albus?" James was suddenly focused on the fireplace behind me, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Hello, my dear boy." The voice of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and leader of the Order of the Phoenix, sounded from the fireplace.
"Please, come in, sir." While helping the Professor, James' eyes met mine with a questioning glance. I inclined my head, signaling that our conversation could wait.
I took time to scrutinize the Headmaster, as James exchanged pleasantries. For some reason, Professor Dumbledore looked and felt older than usual, as if he was carrying a large burden. The twinkle in his bright blue eyes had disappeared, and even their light had dimmed. As the least skilled of the Marauders in magical ability, I had developed a talent of perception and was extremely adept at sensing other's moods. Dumbledore's grim one was terrifying.
"Professor?" I said uncertainly. "Is everything all right?"
"How many times have I told you to call me Albus? I'm no longer your Professor, Peter." The comment wasn't accompanied with the normal lightness associated with it. I had never been comfortable with being on first name terms with the esteemed wizard. Not like James or Sirius, who had both taken to calling the man Albus without difficulty.
There was a deep sigh, "No. Something happened, and it affects all of you. I'd best wait till Lily arrives. I don't want to explain this twice."
James took the signal smoothly, "I'll get her."
"No need, I'm here." Lily had her wand out, but quickly slipped it back into her pocket when she saw who the guest was. She went directly to the Headmaster and gave him a warm hug. Of all of us, Lily was the closest to the grandfatherly Professor. She met the silent inquiry, tapping her brain, "Charms."
My mouth formed a silent 'O'. Lily, the smartest witch of our year, was a protégée at the subject, who, with time, would probably become better than Filius Flitwick, the Charms Professor, himself. Her wards would no doubt notify her whenever someone entered through the floo network.
"Perhaps we ought to all sit down. I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news, today," the man said, an inexpressible sadness crossing his lined face.
"Another attack," Lily whispered, drawing instinctively closer to James, who tightened his arm protectively around his wife. I shuddered, but not in suspense for the unlucky family. I already knew who had been found dead.
"The Dark Mark has just been found over the McKinnon's Bristol home—"
"No!" James exclaimed. The McKinnons and the Potters were old family friends, and James had grown up with their youngest daughter. "Marlene?"
"They're all dead, James. And I have cause to believe that Voldemort, himself, led this attack."
Lily gasped, burying her face into her husband's chest, her slight hands gripping his cloak. James drew Lily into a shielding embrace, his eyes daring anyone to comment on her display of emotion. I knew that James was grieving inside, but he was right. One of the two had to be strong. James would express his anguish later, once Lily had finished.
"How?" James managed weakly. "They were just as well hidden as we are, and even less people knew of their location."
"That's what worries me. The only people who knew were members of the Order, particularly members your age, James." Professor Dumbledore appeared even more stressed from this news.
"You suspect betrayal. You think there's a traitor in our midst," James said sharply, his brain still functioning well enough to realize the implication of the statement.
I found myself paling, though I didn't mean to. They knew.
"That's impossible. No one in the Order would join Voldemort."
Why can you never think badly of your friends, James? Why do you trust us so much? But there was no use in asking the question, even for a second time. Ever the valiant Gryffindor, James would have considered mistrusting his friends the height of dishonor.
"Yet somehow Voldemort knows who is in the Order, what they do, where they live—they're picking members off one by one!"
"How do you know this attack was because of Marlene's involvement in the Order? Mr. McKinnon was an auror, Albus. A damn, good one, too. He's responsible for a great deal of the Death Eaters that are in Azkaban right now—"
"Nevertheless, only an Order member could have informed the Dark Lord of the McKinnon's location—"
"But the attack could have nothing to do with the Order. It could just be an accident that the McKinnon's were part of the Order. A member could have mistakenly let slip Marlene—" James stopped short, horror filling his eyes. His hand flew to his mouth, "Does Sirius know. Has anyone told him yet?"
"No—"
"Please, Professor, let me tell him. Allow me to leave—only for an hour or two. No one will have to know I'm gone—" I had never seen the leader of my friends this helpless, and I cursed myself for being the cause of it. Yet, I knew what had caused this reaction. I hadn't even bothered to think about Sirius' feelings about her death. I'd forgotten…
"James, I'm afraid it's not safe for you to go anywhere, especially if there is a traitor in the Order."
"I'll be invisible the entire time!"
"You know as well as I that Disillusionment Charms are easily broken," Dumbledore cut in sharply.
"There are other ways to become invisible, Professor," I injected, seeing where James was going.
"We don't even have enough cloaks for members on missions for the Order, boys, let alone spare one for something this unimportant."
James seethed at the thought of our friend as trivial, but responded with an even voice, "That's all right then, isn't it? You can save your cloaks for important business; I'll use my own."
"You have an invisibility cloak?"
"How else do you think we managed to sneak around Hogwarts without being caught?" James delicately removed Lily from his chest, and reached into his pocket. "My Dad gave it to me Christmas of first year with instructions to use it well. And I daresay he'd approve of what I want to do with it. Sirius was like a second son to him."
"Surely you realize that invisibility cloaks aren't foolproof, my boy. Especially old ones, as I'm sure this one is—"
"This one isn't a normal cloak, Albus. You're right. It's a very old cloak—been in my family for ages—but it's never faded, ripped, tore, or been anything less than perfect for me. I'll be protected. I can't explain it, but I know my cloak'll never let me down." James could easily sense the disbelief from his old Professor, so he threw the cloak at me, ordering, "Pete, put it on."
"What?" I hated that I was so much stupider than the rest of my friends. So much slower on the uptake…
"Put the cloak on!" James repeated impatiently. I did as I was told and disappeared from Dumbledore's view; rare was the occasion I didn't listen to James or Sirius.
The Headmaster did a few complicated waves with his wand, before commenting oddly, "Could it be?" There was a strange glint behind the man's half-moon spectacles, shrewd, calculating, and slightly triumphant, as if he'd found something he'd been searching for.
There was a sudden flash of bright light, as James cried, "Diffindo!" A surge of warm air rushed passed me, but the cutting charm didn't leave a scratch. Silently, I handed the cloak to Dumbledore, who scrutinized every inch of it.
"Not a mark!" He observed, his voice exceedingly shaky. I wondered why this cloak unnerved him so, and from the look on James' face, the same though was crossing his mind as well. I mean, sure, it was unlike any invisibility cloak I'd ever heard of, but I'd never really thought it to be anything that special.
There was a few moments silence, as Dumbledore composed himself, until, "Why, may I ask, do you feel it necessary to give Sirius this news?"
James burst out incredulously, "You honestly don't know?" He gave a hollow laugh, "Because I know how Sirius'll take Marlene's death, and you, obviously, don't."
"I am well aware that Mr. Black will take the death of a close friend badly, but—"
"Close friend! Marlene was more than that to all of us. She was like my sister and even then she was closer to Sirius. They dated for over two years, Albus! And after Marlene graduated, they had planned on starting again. He would have loved her, if he doesn't already."
I moaned. Even if I managed to get James' pardon for killing his sister-like friend, would Sirius ever be able to do the same? I doubted it. Sirius was far rasher than James. He didn't believe in redemption from certain events. Had my actions last night lost me a best friend? And if Sirius wouldn't… James would never partake in any action that met Sirius' disapproval.
"That may be, Mr. Potter, but—" Dumbledore attempted again, his attention momentarily drawn from the cloak in his hands.
"Albus, this news will kill him," James' voice was cracking now. He closed his eyes and swallowed, willing himself to be strong enough to finish this. "If I know him half as well as I think I do, he'll go after the Death Eaters who did this. He'll want revenge, and—and if you're right—which you usually are—and Voldemort was responsible for this—well—he won't escape from a straight out duel with Voldemort—especially since he won't be thinking straight.
"If you aren't able to calm him down—comfort him—he won't live to see the next week—and forgive me, but with the exception of Regulus, who couldn't help even if he wanted to, I'm the only person who's ever been able to make Sirius see reason." James stopped, tears streaming down his ashen face. "I can't let him die... He's the only sibling I have left."
I swear I felt my heart still for a few moments. I'd always been a little jealous of the relationship shared between James and Sirius—it was difficult not to be. Sirius was James' brother in more ways than I could ever be. Just like Marlene was a sister…
Dumbledore's response was harsh, "James, I cannot let you go to Sirius. Never mind how dangerous it would be for you, but your presence would also put him in jeopardy. Mr. Black is currently on a mission for the Order, and I will not compromise it." James looked ready to debate the point, but Dumbledore continued firmly, "Marlene would listen, James. She always believed that the Order came first. You should too."
"Fine." James slumped back on the couch, conceding defeated. While normally impossible to argue with, James didn't have the strength to press his point. It was too soon after Marlene's death for his brilliant mind to debate at its full capability.
"I'll stay here and be a good little boy." I flinched at the bitterness in his voice.
"This is for you own—"
"Don't try and convince me that I'm doing the right thing. Abandoning a friend is never justifiable. Not for me. Not for any of the Marauders."
Some Marauder I turned out to be.
"James—" The trill from James' chest surprised him into looking down. His wife was watching him with a strange expression, her teary green eyes boring through him. She sat up, touching a hand to his cheek adoringly.
He blinked once slowly, and then snapped his head up breaking the trance the two of them had seemed to hold. He held his hands in surrender, "I said I'd stay, and I will. But don't expect me to be happy about it."
The room fell back into an uncomfortable silence. Dumbledore reminded me of a predator watching his prey, with his raptor like gaze centered on the invisibility cloak in his hands. James and Lily had resumed their mental conversation, the two of them lost in each other. And I just sat, fidgeting in the awkwardness of the room, pondering over how best to reintroduce the topic of my visit to James once Dumbledore left.
"Sir?" It was Lily's musical soprano again. "Was there anything else?"
The Headmaster jolted; he had been so engrossed in the cloak, he'd forgotten where he was. "No, my dear child. But what I've said is already more than enough, isn't it?" There was pregnant pause before the wizard continued, "James?"
"Yes." The word sounded particularly forced, as if it had been pushed through clenched teeth.
"Would you mind if I borrowed your cloak for a little while?"
I double took at the unexpected question, but James merely raised an eyebrow and responded flatly, "I won't use the cloak to leave, if that's what you're worried about."
"No, I trust you to keep your word. I just wanted to examine it more closely. I've never seen anything like it before."
James opened his mouth in protest—he could rarely be separated from that cloak—however Lily nudged him sharply with her elbow, and the dispute on the tip of his tongue transformed into another clipped, "Fine."
Dumbledore stood up, and walked to the fireplace. "I'm afraid I must leave. I have yet to inform the rest of the Order about the deaths of the McKinnon's."
Lily handed him a pouch of floo powder, giving her mentor a second brief hug. Dumbledore tossed a pinch of the powder into the fire and took a step in.
"Albus," James interrupted Dumbledore's departure, "promise me that you'll break it to him lightly." For the first time since the beginning of the conversation, both men were able to meet the other's gaze.
Dumbledore gave his former student a firm nod before disappearing in a swirl of green flames. The moment he vanished James slumped back into the couch, burying his head into his hands.
"Prongs—" I broke off. I'd never been good at consoling. That had always been Sirius' job and on the odd occasion Remus'. Never before had I felt more like the odd man out in our group. Not like I didn't belong (I got that feeling more times than I could count) but as if I'd never belonged.
"Listen, mate, I'm sure Padfoot'll be all right. Sure, he gets into tight situations faster than he can blink, but he's always been able to get himself out of them. He's too stubborn to get killed." I wasn't trying to convince only him. I wouldn't be able to hold Sirius' death on my conscience.
"You don't get it, do you? Even if he doesn't try for revenge, this news will kill him. You saw him after Regulus died. Now imagine that, but one thousand times worse."
Regulus' death had unnerved Sirius in a way I'd never seen before. I didn't know why. Sirius hated his family, brother included. But for some reason, Regulus' death was agonizing for Sirius. It was the only time I'd ever seen him cry.
James' voice was faint. "I wouldn't be surprised if he never got over it. I know I wouldn't if it was Lily who was dead. Either way, the Padfoot we know won't be coming back." He was right, of course. When it came to Sirius, James was always right.
"James, love, it's not your fault—"
"No? I joined the Order to help save the wizarding world from Voldemort. Defend it. And I'm unable to save my own family from him. Defend them from pain. If Sirius was in my position, he'd come to comfort me. He wouldn't let Dumbledore persuade him to be a coward. Don't try and deny it!" Lily's teeth shut with a click. "You know he would. And here I am—"
"—protecting you family. Putting them first, like any good husband and father. If Sirius had to choose between you and Harry who would you want him to choose? Now you do the same James."
The instants the words left her mouth, we all knew she had crossed a line. Asking James to choose between Sirius and Lily was no better than asking him to rip himself in half. His loyalty to Sirius wasn't something easily broken.
James shot of the couch, slamming the door open as he passed through it. I caught a glimpse of his face as he left; it was contorted in pain. Desperately, Lily's devastated green eyes found my blue, willing me to make everything right.
I wanted to shout at her. Tell her that I was the one who sent Marlene to her death, and asking me to soothe James would be torture for both of us. I begged instead. "Please, don't ask, Lily. I won't be able to help him. Marlene was like a sister to him—"
"And you're like a brother. He shares the same bond he shared with Marlene with you—a bond that I will never achieve or understand. No matter how little you think your doing, it'll be more than I could in this situation."
"I…" But I could protest no more, the guilt of Marlene's death hanging over my head more powerfully than ever. I owed it to James to at least try, didn't I? I swallowed deeply, and then agreed, avoiding Lily's grateful eyes. She shouldn't be grateful; I didn't warrant gratitude. I deserved blame, anger, hatred, not the appreciation she was showing.
I left the study not even realizing that I had no idea where James was. Although their Godric's Hollow house was modest compared to the Potter family Manor James grew up in, it was by no means small. My feet carried me up the stairs to a room in the front of the house—a room I quickly recognized as having belonged to Harold Potter, Harry's namesake. Of all rooms, why was he here?
"I come in here to think often." James was sitting with his back facing the door, but I had long since learned that James' senses were too finely attuned for anyone to sneak up on him. His hand was resting on the railing of an empty cradle, the only new piece of furniture in the room.
"Reminds me what I'm fighting for. Why I'm fighting." Harold Charlus Potter had been James' cousin who'd died at the age of ten in this very room from the after affects of a Death Eater attack. He'd been the first death James ever witnessed—and also one of the closest.
"When—"
"We moved Harry in here for his first birthday. We didn't think he needed to be so close to us anymore. I know Harold would have found it amusing that he and his namesake shared the same room."
The room fell into a silence. I wasn't worried—James would speak when he was ready. It would be soon too, judging from the expression of his face. He was looking out the window, but his stare was unfocussed. I could see the gears moving in my friend's head. It was almost clockwork. I counted silently: three, two, one—and James began.
"It's so hard to imagine her cold and unmoving, Wormtail. I can remember when we were little kids. She was always so lively. So spirited. I never believed it when she got sorted into Ravenclaw—always thought she would have been a Gryffindor." James' eyes were shut, a small smile on his face as he reminisced about her.
Stop it! Please, don't remind me of what I've done.
"She used to always blame me for the fact that she only ever had two boyfriends. Said I scared all the boys away with my overprotective tendencies. Seems I wasn't overprotective enough." He grew cold again. "Voldemort obviously didn't get that message."
Abruptly, James stood up and walked to the other side of the vacant cradle and gently lifted something out of it.
"James?" I had been positive that the cradle was empty, but clearly, James was holding something.
But he didn't answer. Instead he waved his wand over the thing in his arms, and the invisible bundle turned into a silent, unmoving Harry.
I snapped back in shock. "Is he—?" He couldn't be dead.
"He's fine." He motioned to an unfilled flask on the bed side table. "Sleeping potion."
And I understood. I'd forgotten that, even though they were in hiding, the Potter's were still in an immense amount of danger. Obviously, they needed somewhere to keep Harry should there be an attack, as well as a way to ensure his silence. A sleeping potion and invisibility charm would do the trick. And Dumbledore's unwarned presence would have been enough to trigger the defense mechanisms they had in place for their son. It was so unfair. That anyone would have to consider such methods to protect their family was uncalled for, let alone a couple so young.
James pulled a vial out of his pocket and poured its contents into Harry's mouth. He then placed the young child back into the cradle, unconsciously smoothing his son's hair before returning to his seat, looking calmer.
"Uh," I gestured simply at Harry, unable to form the proper question. James followed, though. While I would never achieve the silent comprehension James maintained with Sirius, and to an extent Lily, we each still knew the other like the back of our hands.
"He's just in a light sleep. A nap. He'll be able to wake up on his own now."
"Whose idea was it?" While I was still appalled with how carefully they were forced to think of all possibilities, the plan was a good one.
"Sirius's. If anything," a swallow, "happens—well—Harry should live through it—and—and Sirius'll be able to find him and take him." There was a sardonic edge when he added cynically, "Maybe for once I'll actually be able to keep someone safe." The bespectacled man ran a hand through his hair before turning back to the window.
"Prongs?" I moved so that I was standing directly behind my best mate, and lightly touched my hand to his friend's shoulder. "You know that you couldn't have prevented this. There's nothing you could have done to save her, you understand that, don't you?"
James fixed a gaze onto me, and I half expected another outburst. Then, he sighed, "I know."
"Then stop blaming yourself for her death, mate. It wasn't your fault. You-Know-Who's the one who killed her."
"And one of the Order betrayed her," James' voice was harsh.
A rock settled in the pit of my stomach and I had to take a moment before continuing, "It wasn't you though. You hold no responsibility in her death."
"No. But someone does. And when we find out who it was…" he stopped, his entire body shaking with anger. "Let's just say our treatment of Snivellus will be considered trivial—kind—compared to what I will do to him."
I couldn't help but recoil. I knew deep inside James was speaking angrily—knew that he didn't mean that—knew that if it came down to it, James would forgive me—but in the heat of the moment, the conviction of my friend's face—the sincerity of the promise—was enough to make me believe him. Take what he was saying at face value. With those words, I lost any faith in James' mercy.
"James?" Lily's tentative uncertainty echoed through the room. Her husband turned toward the door and softened.
"I'm all right, Lily. There's no need to worry. I won't go into a bout of depression. Not this time."
I didn't trust myself to speak. It was as if everything warm had left me, worse than the effects of any dementor I'd ever experienced. James hated me. He would kill me, if he found out I was the one who caused Marlene's death. I'd never grasped how much I'd grown to need James' protection. Not until I'd lost it, anyway.
James was across the room, his mouth passionately capturing his wife's, when I was finally able to look away from the floor. At one time, I would have rolled my eyes at the display, probably cracking a joke, but now I could only feel the loss of James unconditional love that Lily was being shown. And I was jealous. I knew I had no right to be. But I was.
I could feel the tears billowing up inside of me and the room went blurry. I couldn't stay here. I needed to leave. I stood and the couple separated and turned to me.
"Pete—" James cut off when he saw the tears forming in my eyes and took a step towards me. "Do you need to talk?"
I broke. "I can't. Oh Merlin, James. I'm so sorry. It's so…wrong, what we have to do." My knees buckled, but James was at my side already, his arms holding me up.
"It's all right, mate. We're all sorry. It's not right. She was so young. We're all so young."
He still wasn't getting it. How couldn't he see that I had changed? He knew us all so well… how could he not notice what I'd become?
The anger and blame I had for myself was twisting itself to be directed at James. If he only had paid more attention to me, he might have been able to stop my fall. In fact, had he never told me where the McKinnons were hiding I wouldn't have betrayed them. And slowly, a deep bubbling hatred for James boiled to the surface. I knew there had always been a little resentment for him. Everyone was a little jealous of him. Fabulous quidditch star, Head Boy, smartest student in the school, boyfriend and then husband of Lily Evans, handsome, pureblood, wealthy, cool… the list never ended.
Seeing him in front of me, brave and strong, just added to his perfect faults. I wanted him to hurt like I'd been hurting. Wanted him to feel the certainty of failure I'd felt my entire life—the knowing that no matter what I did, I would lose out. My vision turned red and my hand burrowed into my pocket gripping the handle of my wand.
"Wormtail? Peter?" James cautious voice broke through and my head cleared. It wasn't that I was less angry, no, in fact, if anything, I was more, but I realized that now wasn't the best time for revenge.
"The number one rule of pranking," and eleven year old James grinned, grabbing the dung bomb I was about to throw. "Patience. You have to wait till they're least expecting a prank." He switched directions and threw the dung bomb at a student behind us.
I stopped a feral smirk from spreading across my face. "I'm fine, Prongs. Just fine. I—I think I should go," I forced my voice to be faint. "I need to be alone."
He didn't stop me.
I was surprised at how easy it was to sound depressed. But in a way, I wasn't faking. It was easy to pretend to mourn a loss, because I didn't have to pretend. I'd lost my best friends, I'd lost myself… I'd lost everything.
Almost three months later, there were no second thoughts in my head as I donned my mask for the final time. I'd crossed the point of no return ages ago and closed all paths except for the one in front of me. Ignoring the doorbell of my Trick-or-Treating neighbors, I disapparated with a loud crack.
No regrets, I reminded myself, and then bowed.
"It has happened, My Lord… The Potters have made me their secret keeper."
No regrets, I sighed in my head, drinking the lie. None.