October 1981

I know why I've been picked as the secret keeper.

Sirius said it couldn't be him. James wanted Sirius. Sirius said no. Sirius cannot be secret keeper because he is the obvious choice. It would put him in danger. He wouldn't give James up and Sirius would die. If he is secret keeper his life is forfeit. No one doubts this.

They do not worry if it will put me in danger.

Remus cannot be secret keeper because they suspect a mole. After all this time, after all those years, now, being a werewolf means he is untrustworthy. It makes me wonder if James and Sirius paid attention. Remus is scared of himself as a werewolf. He doesn't have it in him to side with the opposition for the good of us all. He couldn't. He sees the world too firmly in good and bad. At least, more firmly than me.

No one gave any considerations I might be the mole.

I thought I knew these boys. I thought they knew me. Thought we all knew each other.

They don't.

Perhaps they never did.

It would be possible that all these years I was really nothing more to them than a tag-a-long. Like the rest of the world is fond of thinking. They were not playfully teasing me, but instead, laughing at me.

Are they laughing now? Thinking they have made the ultimate move? Not the obvious choice. Not the one of us closest to James. James did not want me as his secret keeper. Sirius convinced him. Perhaps Sirius does not feel he can hold the responsibility of holding his friend's life in his hands. Sirius is not known for his responsibility. Even in this moment the act of being responsible weighs on him and so he passes the burden along. Let Peter do it. He doesn't believe I am responsible. He merely doesn't want the possibility of their blood on his hands.

James does not believe I can do the job. He does not trust Lily and Harry and his own life in my hands. He believes that should the Death Eaters capture me, I would give them up.

He is right.

But I will not need to be captured for this to happen. I see my path clearly. These boys are not my friends. In order to protect themselves, I have been made the target. Friends do not do that. No one calls you their friend and then puts you in a position where your life is obviously on the line.

I am the most expendable, nothing more.

Not brave. Not responsible.

EXPENDABLE.

How easy it must have been to convince James with that frame of mind. If I died protecting them, they would be grateful, but it wouldn't be the same loss as if Sirius died.

Do you sods think I don't know?! That I am that stupid!

I know.

It was clear to me in that moment what I must do. With the two of them in front of me, asking me, but not really asking because it is assumed I will do this.

It is assumed because I never say no to them. Accept the mudblood for them, done. Join the Order of the Pheonix for them-done. It will be easy to get Peter to do it. It wasn't a question. I wasn't asked. There was no discussion of the risks to myself. Only how it would be so honorable of me, and how they would be forever grateful. How I would be saving lives. How I would be helping the greater wizarding community.

LIES.

You can die Peter they were saying to me. You can die and we will live and the wizard world will be better for it. I don't want to die. I will not be dying.

The opportunity had finally be handed to me. I can make them see that I am not expendable. I am not the tag-a-long. I am more powerful than they are. I have been shown who they truly are.

I have been shown what I should have recognized all along.

Finally, I will receive the spotlight and the glory. In this moment, I will be praised by the winning side. Sirius and Remus will be thankful to me for their lives.

James has dug his own grave. From the moment he started chasing that mudblood. He had chances to change and redeem himself, each and every time she refused him. He could have saved himself. But he did not. If the mudblood is so important to him, he can die for her. The Dark Lord leaves no one alive.

Their blood is not on my hands. They made their choice.

Sirius, their blood is still on your hands. You convinced James it should be me. His blood is on your hands. Your hands. Not mine. Are you laughing now? Was your plan as foolproof as you assumed?

The Potters are hiding in Godrics Hollow.

I was chosen for the wrong reason. And they will be sorry.