Peter is drenched when he enters the house. With an apologetic smile, he slips out of his cloak and hangs it by the fire to dry.
Sirius groans as he listens to the rain pelt against the window of the Shrieking Shack. The memories flood him, just as they always do whenever it storms.
"Sorry," he laughs, using a spell to dry himself off. "It's really coming down out there."
Sirius laughs. "I hope you've gotten all the water off the floor. Remus might actually kill you," he teases, gesturing for his friend to take a seat. "What made you brave the storm, Wormy? I hardly doubt this is a social visit."
Peter wrings his hands together, staring pointedly at his feet. Serious considers teasing him for acting so nervous- Don't worry, I don't bite. Remus says I'm not much of a guard dog- but he remains silent, waiting.
Sirius slams his fists against the wall with a loud thud. He should have known somehow. But Peter had always been so jumpy, so nervous. He hadn't seemed suspicious at the time.
He should have known. Where were his canine instincts when he'd needed them?
"Everyone knows you're James' best mate," Peter says at last, grabbing a biscuit from the tray on the table and nibbling it absently. In that moment, Sirius is reminded of exactly how rat-like his friend really is. Nibbling, gnawing.
"Well, I would hope they do," Sirius chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I've worked pretty damn hard for that honor."
Peter starts to answer, but a clap of thunder silences him, sending him into a slight frenzy. He draws his wand, looking over his shoulder as though he expects an attack.
Thunder rolls, and Sirius is almost grateful. At least it drowns out the sound of his scream.
He wishes he could muffle the memories, wipe them away the way the rain wipes away and settles the dust.
But he is not so lucky. He is haunted by that night, by that mistake.
Peter doesn't quite relax. Even when he returns his attention to Sirius, he looks ill at ease. "They'll suspect you. You'll be the first one they look for," he says at last, finishing his biscuit.
Sirius frowns. "Let them."
"It could make the- the situation difficult. But I could lay low, Padfoot. I could hide as a rat, and they would never find me."
Sirius steeples his fingers under his chin, considering. Peter has always been the odd one out, so often overlooked in their quartet. Sirius doubted anyone truly remembered him. He had always been quiet, unremarkable. No one would ever look at him for such important information.
"You want to be their Secret Keeper?"
"Yes."
Human emotions are too much, too complex, too painful. Sirius shakes his head.
He needs to escape them.
"Don't worry. I'll keep them safe," Peter says.
And there's something a little off about the way he smiles, but Sirius doesn't think much of it. Peter is a strange man, after all. He grins and pats his friend on the back. "I know you will, Wormy."
In the streets of Hogsmeade, a large, shaggy black dog runs through the storm, howling at demons that no one can see.