From James Potter's Journal:

I was losing hope, fast.

The whole situation was laughable. Here I was, a grown guy in his own house, hiding in the basement from a maniac running around upstairs yelling curses at random furniture. And here's the funny part- my mum was home.

Ha ha.

I was still trying to warp my mind around her death- around me, being an… orphan. Me. Orphan.

I mean- I was waiting for that grief to come. You know? That… hollowness… the sharp pain inside, the… I was waiting to put a knife in my hand and press. How come it was so much more painful when my dad died?

But then, I'm only human. My mum dieing was horrible, but it wasn't a surprise. I wasn't a naïve little kid, not anymore- I knew my dad would die, but I didn't… know it. It's like, when you're a little kid, and you know that when you grow up you'll have to worry about taking the N.E.W.T.s and the OWLs and worry about graduation and grades and the future. And you think that you could handle it. But then when it actually happens you're so overwhelmed, so shocked, you don't understand how you could have ever thought you could possibly handle it.

When my dad died, it was… scary. A shock. We knew he would die. But back then, it was just this… word. A word among a billion others, meaning something that I didn't know, didn't much care about. It was just… death. Scary, misunderstood death. But that was it.

But then he did die. I couldn't talk to him, couldn't feel his warm hand on my shoulder. His eyes didn't sparkle when he looked at me, his lips didn't stretch in a smile. After he died, I was finally confronted with reality- I would never be able to hear him laugh, to listen to his advice, to have him tease me or play Quidditch together. He would never again pet me in the back, radiating with pride, looking at me with that contentment that made my heart lift with the pathetic need to meet his expectations, to make him proud and happy.

My mum's death was different. In my mind I'd already given up on her. She had been dieing ever since my dad had. Ever since that first time she fell sobbing into my arms, she had been dieing. And I've been grieving her all along.

I didn't know how to fight for her. At first I was oblivious- and then it was too late. Laurence had her, and any fight I put up was easily countered with a harsh beating. Soon I was off to school, putting her out of my mind.

And now she was gone. And I wasn't surprised, because I'd already accepted her death a long time ago. I've been grieving a little bit every day for months.

Which made the whole thing even worst. Had I not given up, could I have saved her?

I put my head between my knees, bringing them up to my chest. I could not be feeling guilty about this. It wasn't my fault.

Was it?

I was sitting, crawled up to a small, tight ball on the floor of the smallest room in the basement. It was filthy and unused, with a bunch of brooms set on the wall, looking to have not been in use for around a century or two. There were no windows, and the door was a wooden opening in the ceiling, right by the stairs. It was an obvious hiding place. He would find me soon enough.

I had an advantage over him. I wasn't drunk, for one thing. I was smaller, faster, and I knew the house a lot better. He was currently walking around in the kitchen, and I was down here, listening intently and thinking depressing thoughts about life and death and helplessness.

I hate being helpless.

I hate depending on others to help me. I mean- I appreciate. I am grateful- really I am. But I don't like needing their help. I'm not a kid. I can take care of myself. I don't like it when I'm in a position where all I can do is wait. Hide and wait.

I'm more of the stand-up-and-fight-for-it kind of guy. If it weren't stupid and hopeless, I would have stood up and fought Laurence, right there and then. But it would have been no use. We were both trapped in the house, until anyone else opened it. Any other POTTER came and opened it. Even if the unimaginable had occurred- if I had bit him, all I would have accomplished was an injured enemy dieing in the floor, a corpse molding upstairs, and my own injuries- which there are bound to be some- weakening me.

And I would still be waiting, helplessly, for help. Only then it would be painful, too.

Not that it wasn't painful. Laurence had gotten a few shoots at me. There was a nasty cut extending from my left shoulder to my right thigh. My head was throbbing with what felt like a serious concussion, from when I fell as I stumbled down the stairs. I was bleeding from a billion different parts of my body, and my skin was turning a strange blue from all the times I hit something a little too violently.

I estimated my stay in the Manor to be around four hours. The first thirty minutes were realization of mum's death. The rest was a chase to my life…

I heard yells from right over me. The wooden door was moving, lifted up.

…Which Laurence was winning.

Peter Pettigrew:

A flash of lightning.

Peter looked up at the sky, his eyes darting around, searching for the burst of light. It cut the sky open, a lone strike of brilliant intensity among the dark, gray sky. It was raining, and dark, and freezing cold. It will be snowing soon.

He made his way through the trail, cursing Sirius in his mind. 'As easy as the path to the lake' he said. 'So visible a dog can follow it,' he joked, before exploding in insane laughter.

Bloody lunatic, Peter thought, falling down for the fifth time in the last thirty seconds.

He was hiking in the dense forest, trying to figure out which part of the consistent vegetation was the actual path and which were just normal bushes that someone stomped on. Where was the stupid cabin, anyway? What happened to those arrows the guys promised to put up?!

Rearranging his coat, he looked up again, scanning the nearby area. Sirius said it was five minutes off the road. He had walked for at least fifteen minutes. It was supposed to be here.

He was just about to turn around and leave (maybe go back to London and ask Coral were the bloody place was…) when a blood-chilling howl sliced through the silent forest.

"Aha," he murmured, turning in the right direction. It can't be too far, now…

Within minutes, the small structure was visible between the green vines. Peter fastened his coat, glancing at the sky once again. The transformation must have already occurs- the moon was high in the clouded sky, subdued by the dark storm clouds, and the occasional lightning. Thunder filled the uncommon silence as Peter took out his wand, stepping into the entrance. The door would be locked…

With a small pop, it opened. Peter closed his eyes, preparing to transform. It took him longer then the others, and he trusted them to keep the wolf away. He won't be able to unlock the door as a rat, and they couldn't take the risk of transforming human while the wolf was there…

There were noises inside. The wolf was putting up a great fight. Peter searched for the familiar ting in his chest, symbolizing the beginning of the transformation. How could James do this so quickly?!

Inside the cabin, the wolf howled again, a hunting sort of howl, like a predator that had just found its pray. Peter opened his eyes briefly, his concentration broken. What was going on in there??

Huge feet hit the wooden floor, scratching the old timber. Peter heard the excited gasps of the huge animal, felt his own hair stand straight…

With one massive shove, the wolf broke through the door.

Peter screamed.

From Alyson Morla's Record of School Hilarities:

"Bellatrix," I hissed, staring at her with shock and horror.

This was soon replaced by anger, hatred, and resentment. Bellatrix Black. Probably the last person I expected to see tonight. I had even thought of her in months… Bellatrix had graduated from Hogwarts a few years ago, even before my parents… moved. For the few short years we spent as classmates she had tormented me to no end, with no reason. I suppose she did have a reason after Sirius and I had our little… thing… in the broom closet in second year, but still. What did a small little second year do to cause such treatment?

And it was terrible. She was a Slytherin prefect, and found every opportunity to take points away for the silliest things- like writing in books, or running in the hallway. After I won my first Quidditch match, she cornered me with a bunch of other Slytherins- all bigger then me and all more advanced in magic. I barely managed to escape. Actually, I probably would have gotten seriously hurt if the marauders didn't show up… of course, they weren't known as the marauders yet, not back then. Just a group of hysterically amusing, rebellious Gryffindors…

I glanced at Sirius, rebelliously amusing Gryffindor number one. He stood there, rigid and expressionless. His eyes flashed at me pleadingly. I remembered him back then- we were about the same size at the time, so he didn't tower over me. His hair was still short, too short, even for a boy. His gray eyes were the first thing I saw when I opened the formally tightly clutched eyes after the Slytherins scattered, fearing the many witnesses. They were concerned, even worried, and more importantly- caring. People think I don't notice those things, but when they're real, real and meaningful… don't even get me started.

And now, those same eyes were… terrified. Why? What would make Sirius Black scared?

Hmm. When did I hear that question before?

"What are you doing here?" I demanded between gritted teeth, glaring at my darkly dressed childhood bully. Her thick, long black hair fell over dark garments, hiding the sickly white skin. In one hand, she held my wand, twirling it in her hair. Her wand was raised, but it wasn't facing me. Sirius's wand was facing me. Bellatrix's wand was facing… Sirius.

"Oh, you know," she answered me, laughing. "Just hanging out with my cousin. He can be really quite amusing at times, you know. You just need to know how to deal with him…" She giggled, her eyes wide with sick happiness. I felt my stomach tighten. How to deal with him…

"Sirius!" I turned to him, realizing what was going on. He looked at me with alarm, his wand still leveled to my chest. "Can you hear me?"

I've never been by a person under the imperious curse. I've heard stories about it, sure… there are plenty of those floating around nowadays… but this was the first time I got to actually talk to someone under the unforgivable. I was so excited…

"Of course not, you silly girl!" Bellatrix squealed with joy. "He's under my control… he doesn't know what's going on- he's not even aware of the time passing." She stretched her neck, looking at my face. "He's fighting it right now, you know," she said, seeing the panic in my face. "But the longer you're under…" her eyes flashed happily, and she giggled with enthusiasm. In midst of my growing hysteria, I imagined a 'I can't wait!' sign glued to her forehead.

"Well, my darling Morla, " she said, stepping closer to us. Sirius shifted, letting her come between him and me. "Siri and I were just living… things to do, muggles to kill… " She grinned. "I didn't imagine you'd be our first target, though… and I always wanted to kill you myself, but… oh well. Siri needs the practice, after all…" Bellatrix turned to Sirius her eyebrows raised. "Well, Siri? Are you gonna just stand there?" I saw her face shift from an innocent, childishness to a hungry predator. "Get her!"

Apparition isn't my strong side. I rather ride a broom, or even Floo, or port keys. But when the very boy you might possible have a romantic future with is holding a wand to your chest, with deadly words already lining his lips, you tend to do things you don't like.

it's short, but it's better then nothing...

Reviews:

Ocean of Dreams-thankyou! I didn't really see that like that, but I guess it works great! actually Sirius was terrified cause he knew Aly was a mugglebor, And that Belltrix hadn't put him under imperious for nothing...

HarryPotter149- thanks!

Nyxelestia- he was put under imperious. remember? I think I wrote that last chapter... or the chapter before... God, this is taking a long time. ;-) about the first person thing- I have no choice! I have a journal, a dairy, two recorders, and that fantasy thing- there's nothing else to try!!

the geek over there- hate school. grr. thanks, I'm really happy you liked it- I think next chapter will be a serious turning point, so... !!

zEthHPfrEaK- the next few chapters are ALL gonna be cliffhangers. I am strtching my story's climax as far as it can go...

Baby seal- definetly evil- and she's ust starting out as a death eater. I always hated her.

IluvSEVERUS- you're right about some things, wrong about others... please remember- we are talking about the wizarding world! v irtualy anything's posisble...:-)

-EHWIES- thanks! where do you live? where I live, socail hour is lunch, and then we all go our different ways and don't talk again until lunch the next day. there IS no social life in Florida.

Lauralanthalassa-jess... God, I actually forgot about her. she's not that big a point again until after christmas- the point of that last entry was to show how she's now kind of stuck, unaware of what's going on. she has no contact with the wizarding world at all- so she won't be able to talk to anyone or realize what's up until after vacation. She will miss A LOT, let me tell you...

xoxPotter'sGirlxox- I would like to point out that in no point in HP was it clearly stated that Peter wasn't a werewolf. just saying. plus- we're talkign abotu the wizarding wrold, you know? just about anything is possible- dont' take anything for granted!

that's it! you guys have some great points, but please remember that we are talking about a world of magic! everything's possible! I can give this awesome clue right now, but it'll ruin everything, so I won't. But- come on! we have some of the most gifted wixards and witches in this story! there's, like, nothing they can't do!!