Chapter 4
To say that Peter Pettigrew was confused would be an understatement. Too many things had happened in too short a time. Everything had just spiralled out of control.
First he'd been made Secret Keeper for the Potters, information which he'd brought to the Dark Lord, because there was nothing else he could have done with sensitive information of that kind. That had backfired spectacularly when His Darkness managed to get himself blown up – a feat for which he'd no doubt be blamed by the Death Eathers. Then he was chased by his former friend, Sirius Black, who was relentless in his pursuit.
Right at the last moment, when Padfoot had cornered him, he managed to call out an accusation, even though he couldn't be sure that his words would reach wizard ears. Still, his next action would have ensured Auror presence, as he had bombarded the street behind him and cut off his finger. Then he transformed into his rat form to escape into the sewers.
And that was the point at which he'd lost all control of the situation. Almost as soon as he'd entered the sewers, he'd sensed people close by. The chances of anyone needing to be here just this minute were extremely low, but on the other hand wizards wouldn't even have known about this whole sewage system, so he didn't think it likely that they were here for him. Probably they were Muggles doing some kind of maintenance job or something.
In any case he could not risk turning into his human form, thereby threatening the Statute of Secrecy and thus revealing he was alive to the Ministry. He could probably kill them to cover his tracks, but he didn't really have the stomach for cold-blooded killings. No, his best course of action was to continue and let them see only a rat running along, a normal sight in this environment. He did try and get off the walkway a few times, but the footsteps behind him were as relentless as Sirius had been the past couple of days, so he opted rather to keep running ahead.
It wasn't until further along the corridor that he realised that something was very, very wrong. Up ahead he smelled something familiar – but it couldn't be. He'd just left Padfoot up above the ground, to be found by the Aurors. And yet, his nose had not betrayed him yet. With a sharp turn he headed the other way, only to encounter the two Muggles. Only they couldn't be, could they, because they were looking right at him, and one of them was... was...
But he was dead! The Dark Lord had killed him, and his wife. He knew that for sure. He'd checked the house after the explosion, before fleeing the scene. How could James be coming towards him now?
His little rat stomach turned, and he felt like he could faint any moment, only he couldn't. Now was a time for action, and so he took the only path that would lead him away from both of his former friends. He jumped off the walkway and into the brackish sewer water. He'd only just started paddling when he heard familiar words. One of the first charms they had ever learned, all the way back in first year. It had stood them in good stead for many a prank, but now he cursed the charm from the bottom of his heart.
As he was moved out of the water and back to the walkway, he could see that it really was Padfoot who'd caught him. He thought for a moment that he might be heading for the other wizard's hands, in which case he could bite and then make a run for it, but instead he was dropped near the wall. Of course, a wingardium could not be directed quite so easily as an accio. He didn't question his good fortune, but scrambled towards the gap between the wall and the boxes. He felt as though if he could only clear the gap, he'd have made good his escape.
He did not see the tell-tale shimmer of a disillusioned object. Instead, he realised his mistake only after he heard a click. He'd run straight into a trap.
The cage in which he found himself did not look very sturdy. Not for a human, anyway, although it was plenty sturdy for a rat. When he tried to change back, however, he found that Sirius had thought of this possibility and had charmed it against transformations. He was well and truly trapped.
The two people who had helped capture him approached. He should probably try to make sense of everything they were saying, but the panic was stronger. The animal's instincts were taking over.
By the time he'd calmed down enough to huddle in one corner of the cage, rather than running in circles and squeaking, he was being carried somewhere and talk was scarce. All he could make out was that they were no longer in the sewers, although they were still somewhere indoors.
Eventually they came to a door, which led to a bare room. His cage was placed in the middle of the floor and the door opened. For a moment he sat still, wondering – again – what was happening, but when he felt his transformation being forced on him, he hurried to leave the cage.
By the time he was completely human again, he was alone. He prowled around the room, but he could not even find where the door was, nevermind any place where he could escape. Worse, when he tried to revert back to his rat form, which was the only bit of wandless magic he was capable of, he found it impossible. He'd suspect anti-transformation wards like there had been on the cage, but in that case he'd have stayed a rat.
No, it was more likely that all magic was suppressed somehow. Were there wards even capable of doing that? He had no idea, but it was the most likely explanation. There was just no way to check his theory, without a wand he was helpless anyway and he'd had to leave his own behind to make sure they'd really think him dead.
Soon, a screen that he had not noticed before lit up, showing a somewhat familiar face – the third person who had caught him, whom he had not paid much attention to before.
"Barty Junior?" But that wasn't quite right, was it? Barty Crouch, one of the more fanatical of the Dark Lord's followers, had never once, as far as he was aware, grinned quite so exuberantly.
"You, too?" Barty said. "I must really look like that fellow. Hi, I'm the Doctor. I'm sure you have some questions?"
Right, so... just a lookalike.
"Err... where am I?" he asked, casting his eyes about the room, where the only thing of even remote interest was the screen.
"Oh, you're in the zero room! I finally got around to rebuilding it after that one time it got jetissoned. Lovely little room, cuts you off from the influences of the universe. The screen we're talking through only works because they're both part of the TARDIS, I won't bore you with the details. Point being, we found out that magic can be found everywhere in the universe, which got us out of a pickle or two. Except in the zero room! You'll be nice and cosy there for the journey, so just sit tight and you'll be out in a jiffy! Well, and into the tender care of the police – or what were they called, Aurors?"
"Look, er, Doctor, I think there's been some misunderstanding here. Can't I come up and we talk about it like civilised people?"
The Doctor looked to the side of the screen for a moment, then he turned back to Peter. "I have a couple of people here who are fairly sure there has been no misunderstanding. I will leave the screen to them."
The brown-haired man ducked out of sight, to be replaced by a face he knew all too well.
"Padfoot, my old friend!"
Sirius glowered at him. "You don't get to call me that, Pettigrew."
Peter blinked. Sirius hadn't called him by his last name since early first year. He guessed he deserved it. Still, always try to find a way out, was his creed.
"Look, I can explain everything!"
"Alright." The other man crossed his arms, a forbidding look on his face. "James and Lily, Pettigrew. Explain that, if you would. You were their Secret Keeper. We switched places, and one week later they're dead. One bloody week, Pettigrew. You could not have switched to another again in that time, or the magic would have collapsed.
"Or, if you're in an explaining mood, how about your little framing job just now, eh Pettigrew? Make everyone believe I'm a mass murderer, escape to the good life yourself? You got me locked up in Azkaban for two years. Merlin knows how much longer I'd've been there if the Doctor hadn't showed up?
"I guess you can't be blamed for the wizarding world deciding I didn't deserve a trial. Or, you know, the fucking Aurors not checking which wand cast that curse. You're still damn lucky I've had a couple of years away from Dementor influence and with proper mental care, or you likely would not have survived an encounter with me."
Peter's confusion burst into full bloom during Sirius' rant.
"I... I... How can I have done any of that? You were free earlier today, you're free now. You can't have spent two years in Azkaban!"
The Doctor came back into view. "That one's on me! See, what happened was wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff."
"Wibbly wobbly..."
"Timey wimey, yes." The Doctor nodded decisively, as if that cleared everything up. Peter stared, waiting for more.
A third voice could be heard. "I don't think you cleared up any confusion, Doctor. You just added to it. You're good at that."
The face that the voice belonged to showed up on the screen, and Peter stared again. No wonder he'd thought James had come from him. If someone had cast a Gemini charm on James when he first rode the Hogwarts Express, the result could not be closer.
The boy turned to face the screen, looking coldly at Peter. "What the Doctor is trying to say, if somewhat less eloquently than usual, is that he picked me up when I was 6, we rescued Sirius in the year that I turned 3 while I was 10 years old, and we caught you now, when I'm still the same age as the rescue but also one-and-a-half and only just orphaned due to your telling You-Know-Who where I lived. In other words, time travel. Figured out who I am yet?"
He could hardly believe it, but there was only one possible answer. "H... Harry?"
"Yes, Harry. The boy whose parents you betrayed, and whose godfather you framed."
Peter's shoulders slumped. He was not getting out of this one. He couldn't even discount the whole time travel explanation, not with James' face looking at him with Lily's eyes.
"So what happens now?"
"Now we travel to a time after Sirius escaped," came the Doctor's reply. "You'll stay in the zero room until that time, at which point you will be handed over to the Aurors – lovely word, that.
"What happens then is up to the Aurors, of course, but at a guess I'd say a trial is likely. If you'll excuse me, I have to go make sure we land in the right timezone."
The Doctor flashed him a grin and left the screen again, taking the friendliest face on the screen with him. Peter was left with two pairs of eyes, one grey and one green, staring coldly at him.
Sirirus was the one to break the silence.
"Why did you do it?"
There were several things Sirius could be asking about, but the heartbroken look in his eyes made it clear he meant betraying James and Lily.
"I learned some things about myself since we graduated, Sirius. One of them is that I cannot handle pain and torture. The Dark Lord – he's very inventive when it comes to inflicting pain on other people. I was captured in the summer after graduation, did you know that? They came up to our house one day, four Death Eaters. I was alone, and they easily overpowered me and took me to Him.
"I'm ashamed to admit it did not take them very long to break me. I promised Him I would serve Him, anything to make the pain stop. I guess there was one other option open to me, but that is another thing I learned: I don't want to die. I also do not have the self-sacrificing nature that seems so common among Gryffindors.
"At first I thought I might turn spy for the Light, but that option was taken from me. After my promise, he tore through my pitiful Occlumency shields and found every instance of defiance, and squashed them like a bug. I had no choice but to obey Him. I tried to keep out of the thick of things, so that I would have nothing to report to Him, but even that was punished severely. And then you suggested that switch, and I couldn't have kept that from him even if I'd tried. So I told him.
"Tell me, Sirius. Would you have done differently, if you'd worn my hat?"
Sirius leaned closer with an intent look in his eyes.
"I would have died for them."
And then he left, apparently done with the conversation. That left only Harry.
"You understand me, don't you, Harry? That I had no choice?" He desparately wanted someone to agree with him, that he could not have done anything else.
Harry shrugged, although he did not lose the cold look in his eyes.
"Maybe. It's not like I've been in your position, so I wouldn't know how cowardly I'd be. The Doctor usually manages to get me out of any sticky situation long before much torturing occurs.
"What I fail to understand is your framing Sirius. You already knew Voldemort was gone, so you can't have been afraid of him. Afraid of his followers, maybe, but there was no Death Eater trailing you, was there? Just a friend who wanted to know why you'd betrayed them. And what do you do, rather than give him the answer you gave just now? You killed 12 people, and condemned your friend to hell on earth. And consequently me as well. No, you don't get much understanding from me.
"Anyway, sounds like we're landing. It's not my problem just how much you're not worthy of being called a Gryffindor. From here, it's up to the Aurors to make sure you face the consequences of your actions, since you couldn't bring yourself to. I would wish you a good day, but I doubt it will do much good."
Harry stood up, regarding him with sad eyes. Lily's eyes. Then the screen went blank, leaving only a stretch of wall.
For some time, nothing happened. The room was as bare as before, the door still invisible. Trying to transform felt a bit like poking a wound just to see if it still hurt, and yet he could not stop.
Then the door opened, and Harry stood on the other side.
"Come on out, nice and slow," he said.
Peter approached, calculating whether it would be worth it to try and rush the boy, who appeared to be unarmed. Deciding he didn't have anything to lose, he started to run, but Harry twisted away from the door, almost as if he had expected it.
Just as Peter reached the threshold, he stumbled over nothing into the hallway. The last thing he heard was "Stupefy, Petrificus totalus, Incarcerous!" before the first spell hit and everything went black.
He wouldn't wake up again until after he was in a Ministry holding cell, where the world made sense again, except for the year. If he ignored the fact that it was two years later, he could almost pretend he had imagined the whole episode, and the Aurors had just arrested him at the scene of the crime. Because of course he had not met 10-year-old Harry, how could he have? Even in the impossible year of 1984, the boy was not even close to that age, and thus it did not happen.
