I REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT Y'ALL THINK OF THIS, KAY? PLEASE TELL ME!
ANYWAY, GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!
~LF221
Something in Lupin's tone and/or eyes, as well as the slightly intimidating figure of Dad bade Pettigrew take a chance and throw caution to the wind as he dove for the door, but as Dad and Remus stood in front of it, he was quickly repelled. Being a step behind them, I was left to take a step back to avoid his hands, which were out in front of him. Peter gazed around wildly once more before fully eying Dad and Remus.
"S—Sirius...R—Remus..." It was amazing how rodent-like Peter's voice was. "My friends...my old friends..." Then, as his eyes flicked around the room...his gaze rested on me, and he seemed ready to speak. Dad's arm rose, and a low growl emanated from his throat. Remus pushed his arm back down, and turned to Peter again with that fake friendly smile.
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed-"
"Make it hard to hear Remus, really." I growled, so low it was hardly audible. Peter then took a closer look at Remus, and his eyes widened.
"Remus, you don't believe him, do you..?" Peter gasped, sweat beading on his face, sounding quite shocked and terrified. As he should. "He tried to kill me, Remus..." He whined, and I was struck with the desire to kick him. He was pathetic, grovelling about like that, making pathetic claims and stuttering terribly.
"So we've heard." Remus spat, releasing more control over his voice, letting the ice pervade it. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so-"
"He's come to try and kill me again!" Peter interrupted squeakily, pointing at Dad with the severed hand, having to use his middle finger. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me, too...You've got to help me, Remus..."
"Oh, get a hold of yourself, Peter!" I spat venomously. Remus laid a hand on my shoulder. I hadn't realized I was reaching for my wand and stalking toward the now cowering man before me. I blinked, and backed up, pointedly ignoring the slightly horrified look on the Trio's face.
"No one's going to try and kill you-"
"We're not?" I whined. Remus glared at me, and I huffed.
"Until we've sorted a few things out." Peter looked even wilder, frantically looking between the angry people in front of him, and the door behind us and back again several times a minute.
"'Sorted things out'?!" Repeated Peter fearfully. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Really?" I growled sarcastically.
"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban? When nobody has ever done it before?" Remus asked coolly.
"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!"
"Of, fer the love of-" I growled, but Peter continued his shrill little rant, without apparently even acknowledging me.
"How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"
"Don't you dare talk about my father like that!" I seethed, fists clenched and ready to strangle this no good son of a Ghoul.
"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" Dad seethed.
"You say it, too?" I asked, impressed. Peter looked like he had been threatened with a whip, curling and cowering on the floor. "Remus and I do." I mused, grinning. Dad turned to Pettigrew, who had yet to uncurl.
"What, scared of hearing your old master's name?" Dad asked snidely.
"Probably." I mused, arms crossed and glaring at Peter in much the same manner as I had glared at Snape earlier. Dad grinned at me before turning and resuming his furious expression.
"I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?" Peter's face whitened. I grinned wickedly at him. It was a grin Remus described as Dad's 'It's Prank Time' look. Peter cowered back, sweat dripping from his snout-like nose, and upper lip.
"Don't know what you mean, Sirius-" He was breathing faster than ever now.
"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years." Dad seethed. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter..." He rasped, grinning evilly at Peter. I blinked. Was Dad...purposefully making Peter wet himself? Or is he so used to being taunted and spat upon in prison that he's now also used to dealing taunts out in return? Is this second nature to him after twelve years in that terrible place? I found I didn't want to know. Not really. "They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them...I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information...and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they?"
"Dad..." I breathed. This was getting out of hand. "enough." Dad sent me a 'Don't Interfere' look. I gasped softly, withdrawing the hand I had been stretching out. But Dad had already turned back to Peter.
"There are still plenty of them out there, biding their time, pretending they've seen the errors of your ways...If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter-"
"Don't know...what you're talking about..." Pettigrew repeated, sounding more shrill than ever. It was clear he was beginning to panic. He wiped his face on his sleeve and turned to Remus, whose eyes were still cold. "You don't believe this—this madness, Remus-" But Remus had heard enough. He glared at Peter harshly.
"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat." He said evenly, yet waspishly. Peter seemed to latch onto Remus' words like a lifeline, seeming to glean some fragment of hope for mercy out of them.
"Innocent, but scared!" He squeaked desperately. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men into Azkaban—the spy, Sirius Black!"
"Quit talking about him like that!" I roared. Peter flinched away. I realized two things all of a sudden; one, that I was inches from Peter's face, and two, that my wand was in my hand, sparking. I shoved my wand back into my belt, and took a few steps away from Pettigrew. He had the sudden nerve to shove me away. Being used to having to stand my ground against a raging werewolf, this sorry excuse for a man hardly made me move an inch. I used the momentum to get me away before I hexed his face off. Dad came forward, his face twitching.
"How dare you touch her," He seethed, and I could see the dog in him as he spoke. "or even look at her! And I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter—I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us...Jenny, me, Remus...and James..." Peter's white face was glistening in the ever decreasing light as he wiped it again. He was now panting with the intensity of his breathing.
"Me, a spy...must be out of your mind...never...don't know how you can say such a-"
"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it!" Dad hissed waspishly. Pettigrew took a step back, cowering again. "I thought it was the perfect plan...a bluff...Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you...It must have been the proudest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters." Peter, white and clammy as wet marble, was wringing his hands when he wasn't wiping his face, muttering distractedly...things like 'never would have thought...' 'how can he say such a far-fetched-' and 'this is an absolute lunacy to even begin to think-'. Hermione looked pensive.
"Professor Lupin? Can—can I say something?" Remus turned only his head to look at her.
"Certainly, Hermione." He replied graciously.
"Well—Scabbers—I mean, this—this man—he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's been working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?" I turned, thunderstruck, to Hermione. I don't believe it!
"Whose side are you on?!" I yelled. Peter was getting used to my outbursts, apparently, took a step to my right, to look at Hermione.
"There! Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?" He shrieked, his voice even squeakier and higher in pitch. Dad growled.
"I'll tell you why. Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half-dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be sure he was the biggest bully on the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him..." I smirked evilly. Peter was well and truly panicking inwardly now. I can see it in his face. And I am perfectly aware I am being somewhat cruel, but I can't help but take a bit of pleasure in Peter's expression.
Whaaat? He messed my life up majorly (but don't tell Remus I said that. Although I've been happy enough with Remus...I do have literal scars from living with him. Not that I mind...) and I want him to see some sick justice before I'm through with him. Peter' mouth was opening and shutting repeatedly. He looked like an obese fish after a workout. Hermione took a shaky step forward. She seemed ready to faint.
"Er—Mr. Black—Sirius?" She asked, in a tiny, hesitant little voice. I chuckled under my breath, hiding it with a purposefully sloppy cough. Dad jumped slightly at the 'Mr. Black' title. He was, I suppose, used to hearing that name only when people were talking to his father...who wasn't Dad of the Year, from what I've heard. Nevertheless, he nodded. "If you don't mind my asking," She continued, with an air of tip-toeing around a sleeping giant, "how—how did you you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?" Pettigrew seemed to think these words helped him, and I suppose they might be helping, just a tad, but...
"Hermione..." I groaned. "Pick a freakin' side, would yah?" She merely sent me a confused look. "Sorry. It just-"
"Thank you!" Peter breathed, as if Hermione had just saved his life. "Exactly! Precisely what I-" Lupin silenced him with such a fierce glare, it seemed that the merest flicker of the wolf ghosted across his face. I chewed my lip. We needed to get to the castle...get the potion...
Dad was facing Hermione, the same pensive look I had. Otherwise, it could be taken as annoyance. But I knew it wasn't.
"...I don't know how I did it." He said softly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me...but it kept me sane and knowing who I am...helped me keep my powers...so when it all became..." He gave me a glance, "too much...I could transform in my cell...become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know..." Dad swallowed. It was obvious this wasn't pleasant for him, having to talk about his darkest moments in the worst place on earth in front of me, when I knew hardly anything about him, beyond whatever Remus told me and what I had seen of him. He heaved a sigh. "They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions...They could tell that my feelings were less—less human when I was a dog...but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak," Here, Dad's eyes glazed over a little, a haunted, faraway look in his eyes as he spoke of his troubles. I felt for him, truly. "and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...But then I saw Peter in that picture...I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry...and Rosie, though she was still under Remus' careful eye..." Dad subtly shook his head, as if to clear it, "Peter was perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again..." Dad's voice was getting stronger, more bitter toward the man on the floor, wordlessly mouthing what must have been rebuttals, no doubt, "ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies...and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors..." He heaved another sigh... "So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive..."
"And a dangerous psychopath." I added darkly. Dad nodded.
"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it...It wasn't a happy feeling...it was an obsession...but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog...It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused...I was thin, very thin...thin enough to slip through the bars...I swam as a dog back to the mainland...I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry...Rosie...you looked much like your mother did...it was amazing to watch. Believe me. Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them." He bowed his head, and I could hear a thick swallow. His eyes were wet as he looked earnestly into Harry's eyes, then mine. I gazed at Harry, and found belief in his eyes. I heaved a relieved sigh. Finally...now all we had to do was convince the other two...
Harry nodded, to mute looks of horror from Hermione and Ron, who had both been staring, dumbstruck, at the scene unfolding before them. Peter's eyes nearly burst out of his head.
"No!" He squeaked, falling got his knees and grovelling toward Dad, his hands pleadingly clasped in front of him, as if in prayer. "Sirius—it's me...it's Peter...your friend...you wouldn't..."
"There's enough filth of my robes without you touching them." Dad growled, and made to kick Peter, who recoiled and made toward Remus.
"Remus! You don't believe this...wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?" Remus' eyes flashed with realization and comprehension. He turned to Dad, who seemed to understand what Remus had just realized.
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter." His voice was calm and even, almost nonchalant, but his face betrayed the hurt and slight betrayal he was feeling. It was one of the things you learned to pick up on when living with Remus. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" He asked over Peter's shining, trembling head. Dad heaved a great sigh. His eyes swam with remorse, self-loathing, and a desperate begging for forgiveness. And although I felt a flicker of anger at my father for daring to suspect his old friend...I saw how torn up he was, and knew he didn't need any more punishment. Especially not from me, his daughter, whom Dad was convinced hated him. I wanted to show him, prove to him, that I didn't hate him at all.
"Forgive me, Remus." Was all he said. It seemed all he could say. Remus smiled the same smile that told me, always, even after a particularly nasty row about Dad...that he still loved me, that he would always forgive me. I smiled, overjoyed that Remus finally let go of the bitterness he had held toward my dad all these years. I was so...I guess it's weird to say that I'm proud of my godfather, but...I really am. Remus smiled graciously, forgivingly, warmly at his old friend.
"Not at all, PadFoot, old friend. And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy...for arguing so hotly with Rosemary because of it?" Dad didn't look surprised at this. He merely smiled at me, and it was the smile Remus gave me when I mastered something he was teaching me. It was a proud smile.
"Of course. Shall we kill him together?" Dad asked most casually, as if asking if they should merely engage in some prank, not end a life! My face drained of it's blood.
"Yes, I think so." Remus replied, in the same grim tone. It frightened me. I knew Peter deserved it, but...
This is madness! Peter...is the proof of my dad's innocence...and if we kill him...Dad'll be even more guilty, and even Remus would get arrested. I just...Dad and Remus...can't just kill somebody...can they? I know they hate his guts, but...this is overkill. Way overkill...
"You wouldn't...you won't..." Peter gasped. He then scrambled around to face me, and I immediately scooted away, taken aback that this scumbag in front of me is seriously gonna try and gain my favor. My wand flicked almost lazily into my hand, and I pointed it at the sniveling man before me.
"Don't waste your breath." I growled, hate suddenly flooding me. Much as I hate the idea of Peter being ruthlessly killed...I can't let him get away with his betrayal... "You are the reason my father and I never knew each other..." I swallowed. Now I think about it...I can't help but remember all the times in my naïve childhood I had called Remus 'daddy', meaning it, never knowing that it was a false title. How would it have been different with Dad beside me, with Remus and Mum laughing at my failures, and coaching me toward success? "You are the reason my dad is on the brink of madness..." I then gulped, a heavy lump forming quickly in the base of my throat. "And...and you killed my mother..." I blinked the tears away, hating the breaks in my voice, as well as the trembling. Peter's eyes widened at my blazing look, my sparking wand, inches from his nose. "So...so don't expect any pity or mercy from me." I spat, meaning every word. I was by no means going to be party to murder, and hate the thought that my godfather and father were this close to actually doing it...but he needs to be locked away somewhere he can never get out. He deserves what my father went through...Azkaban...not death, surely. Peter's eyes went even wider, if possible. He then turned to Ron. He seemed to think that the fact that he had hidden for twelve years, masquerading as a pet, counted for something. His mistake. "Ron...haven't I been a good friend...a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you...you're on my side, aren't you?"
"Oh, shut up!" I spat, growling fiercely at the pathetic excuse for a Gryffindor, for a man. Now that I had revisited all the ways in which Peter had screwed up my life...I was getting more and more worked up, and more and more understanding of Dad and Remus' predicament. They quite possibly hate Peter more than I do. Mum was Dad's lover, his best friend, the one who had stayed with him through thick and thin, though Remus hinted that she was also the one to try and get rid of the suspicion of Remus being the spy in Dad, to no avail. But still she had stayed by her husband, even...even unto death, like a wife should. Like a true Gryffindor would.
And quite suddenly, I felt like crying...
Mum. How would it be if she had raised me? If Dad hadn't gone after Pettigrew in rage...if...if...but it did no good to dwell on dreams and 'what ifs' of life.
"I let you sleep in my bed!" Ron said, as if not quite believing it himself, snapping me from my reverie. He was glaring harshly at Peter, and I knew in that moment...Ron believed the truth about Dad. It was difficult to tell if Hermione did, too. She looked indecisive. Peter lit up, like the words Ron had said had been like a lifeline, as if there was nothing in the boy's tone to suggest he hated him. It seemed that only the words mattered to him, no the way Ron had said them.
"Kind boy...Kind master...you won't let them do it...I was your rat...I was a good pet..."
"Oh, good grief!" I growled. "Are you for real right now?" Dad sniffed idly.
"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter." Dad spat harshly, voice laden with malice and hatred. Ron wrenched his leg away from Peter, face paling even more in pain. Peter turned, looking more and more desperate, to Hermione. I let my jaw hang slack. He was seriously reduced to this? Grovelling, hoping somebody will stick up for him?
"Sweet girl...clever girl..." And apparently, he's also not above cheap flattery to keep his neck. "You—you won't let them...help me..." He was in such a panic, I realized, that he was doing anything that came to his mind, however stupid it may seem. Hermione pulled her robes out of Peter's clutching hands and backed away toward the wall.
And then Peter did something...that I never would have thought him desperate enough to try...
He turned to Harry.
"Harry...Harry...you look just like your father...just like him..." Oh...oh...wrong move, little man...wrong move...Dad's eyes twitched. That was always a sign of imminent danger in me, and if I really am Dad's daughter in this respect...
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?! HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM?! HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?!" Dad screeched. Peter dived even further into dangerous waters as he continued speaking to Harry, who was looking more and more revolted again, grovelling more than ever.
"Harry...Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed...James would have understood, Harry..."
"If he was mental." I growled lowly. Peter didn't seem to register my interruption.
"He would have shown me mercy—AAGGH!" He cried, as Dad, Remus and I grabbed a hold of Pettigrew's robes, and threw him forcefully onto the ground, where he sniveled and cowered away from the three wands (there was no way I could not participate, but...no way I would kill Pettigrew) pointed right at him, twitching in terror.
"You sold James and Lily to Voldemort. And...and murdered my wife, along with twelve or more others. Do you deny it?" Dad spat, shaking in fury and nearly uncontrolled rage. It seemed too much for Peter, who burst into tears as he lay there on the ground. It reminded me of a badly behaved baby, throwing a tantrum.
"Sirius...Sirius...what could I have done?" He whined, adding to the mental baby picture. "The Dark Lord..." I growled, my eyes narrowing. That was how the Death-Eaters referred to Voldemort. So...is Peter that stupid? Or is he...just that used to calling Voldemort that name? "you have no idea...he has weapons you can't imagine...I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Jenny and Remus and James. I never meant for it to happen...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me-"
"Merlin's beard!" I cried, scoffing at the childish excuse. If Peter had a loyal bone in his body for his friends...he could have stood up to Voldemort, and never joined him at all.
"DON'T LIE! YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!" Dad roared, shaking in a terrible fury. Peter blanched, quaking on the floor.
"He—he was taking over everywhere!" He pleaded, which only really served to make all of us hate him even more. "Wh—what was there to be gained by refusing him?" Oh, my heavens...this guy is really just begging for Azkaban right now...practically throwing himself in, really...
Dad's eye twitched again.
"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" Dad spat venomously. "Only innocent lives, Peter."
"But feel free to join him, anyway." I scoffed sarcastically. "I hear they've got neat jackets." Okay...I know that was a little weak, and incredibly lame, but I was getting more and more worked up here, and my mind was surrendering to the fury within. Peter started acting like a big, balding baby again, crying and sniveling on the floor.
"You don't understand!" He whimpered. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"
"What would it have mattered, as long as your only friends were safe?" I asked slowly, my fists shaking with the effort of not punching him.
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" I found myself agreeing with Dad there. Peter never should have been in Gryffindor. He would have fit right in at Slytherin, all of them too weak to resist the alleged allure of the dark arts. Or, at least...most of them. Some of them aren't that bad...like Scottie, but for the most part, they were evil, sniveling little wretches. Nevertheless...Dad's tone sent an icy shiver down my spine. This was wrong...we can't just kill somebody. Even if he deserves nothing less...Dad and Remus should be brave enough, wise enough...strong enough, to let Peter be taken to Azkaban, which is arguably worse than death. However, I was still next to Dad and Remus, shoulder to shoulder with them, and their wands raised themselves, pointing at Peter. I blanched. This was it...but could I really just sit here and let my father and godfather commit murder, especially when it would only mean getting Dad into a much worse position? Not to mention where it would leave Remus... in Azkaban, as well...
And that's what settled it for me. The furious red mist cleared from my eyes (I can't really remember when it started) and I knew; Mum wouldn't want Pettigrew to be slaughtered by her husband, and best friend. Even she would agree he should go to Azkaban, but never just outright slaughtered. No one but the lowest, meanest examples of human existence deserved that.
"You should have realized if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would." Remus said softly. And that chilled me more than Dad's rant. "Goodbye, Peter." He said, and in that instant, I knew I wasn't standing for this anymore. I stowed my wand, and shoved myself beside Harry (surprisingly) in front of Dad and Remus, facing the wands.
Now came the moment of truth. What would Remus and Dad do?
I held my breath as the seconds lengthened.
OKAY...THIS IS JUST THE MOMENT I DECIDED TO LET END THE CHAPTER. ANYWAY...
I HOPE YOU ARE ENJOYING THIS STORY STILL. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, OR GIVE ME CONTRUCTIVE CRITISM. FLAMERS NOT ALLOWED!
THANK YOU.