The Potters
So, I don't own Harry Potter or the Chronicles of Narnia...Damn.
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Previously...
Peter wondered to himself if this was a good idea as he looked around the room with poorly sealed bricks and cracked concrete flooring. He had to get special permission to even see the bloody bastard he was planning on interviewing; no non-Ministry-orientated wizards were allowed to enter Azkaban. Peter, being only a trainee-Auror, was a grey spot between the Ministry workers and the rest of the wizarding world. He imagined that he only got approval was because he was Harry Potter's brother and because the prisoner he was going to interview was-
"Peter?" The 18-year-old wizard heard. His hazel eyes snapped towards the door of the visiting room, where a hollow husk of a man Peter once remembered as one of his uncles stood.
He was shabby-looking. Nothing like he what he used to be. His prison uniform hung loosely around his frame, his face skeletal like. His grey eyes could be scooped out easily with a wooden spoon if one were to perform the disturbing act, Peter wondered if the traitor would even feel it happening. His lips were as crackled as the ground he stood on, his feet bare with puss-oozing blisters at the soles. The chains wrapped around his wrists and waist clattered with every breath the bastard took.
Peter didn't know if he wanted to run past the man or kill him right on the spot. Both were so tempting, but that would be a coward way out. Peter was no coward, not unlike the man who stood before him now.
His hazel eyes hardened as the guards dragged his godfather to the table and attached his chains to his chair and the table that separated the two wizards who sat at it.
Gaunt grey eyes stared at Peter, full of an emotion Peter couldn't place. Wide, red filled with the white part of the eye, bloodshot.
"Uncle Padfoot," Peter said, his voice still full of glass shards but quickly the pieces began to crumble down his throat as he glared at Sirius Black, the man who betrayed his family.
11 January 1974
"Oh, Potter," Twenty-year-old Sirius Black said the moment he laid eyes on the infant in James Potter's arms. "What did you and Evans do?"
"Made you a godson, Black," James said, smirking as he looked at his fellow Gryffindor.
They were in St Mungo's, in the maternity ward Sirius didn't know existed until today. Visiting hours were almost over but that didn't stop Sirius from coming to visit his friends and meet their new child.
In the hospital bed across the room, Lily was knocked out with the help of potions to help with the after-effects of birth. After nearly two days of labor, from what James told Sirius, the potions were the least of Lily's concerns. He told Sirius Lily held their son for two hours after the birth before she agreed to take the potions, as long as James stayed in the room and "didn't corrupt the baby", she had said.
Sirius looked at the sleeping infant in his best friend's arms. The baby had a few strands of red hair, Lily's hair. Without the hair to distinguish the baby as human, Sirius would have guessed James was holding a very small, deformed house-elf. Sirius didn't have much experience with babies, any in fact, but he knew instantly that the newborn in his best friend's arms and he were going be close growing up. Of course, to the irritation of his mother, Sirius thought as he smirked to himself. Lily would probably kill him by the time the boy was thirteen and getting detention after detention with Sirius' distant help. Maybe he'd set the kid on a treasure hunt to find the Marauders' Map.
"Here," James said, moving forward with the baby in his arms and the smirk on Sirius' face fell slightly.
"Stay right there, Prongs," Sirius warned. "I'll drop him if you give him to me. The last thing I want is Lily murdering me for damaging her baby."
"Oi, he's mine too, you know!"
"Yeah, you try telling her that," Sirius said as he nodded towards Lily, who looked tired despite her being asleep.
Warily, James nodded before he started to snicker and before Sirius could protest, he was holding his best friend's son. The baby didn't stir from his sleep to Sirius' relief. Though he would never tell his best friend or his fiery wife this, Sirius still thought the baby looked like a house-elf but was very adorable regardless. He wondered how much of James the boy would have, he could have sworn the boy had his father's nose. Maybe his father's eyes? James had always hoped his children would have Lily's eyes, he once told Sirius after an Order meeting. "My hair, Lily's eyes", James had said.
"Padfoot, meet Peter Sirius Potter," Sirius heard James say, causing him to look up from his godson.
A grin broke out on Sirius' face when he heard the boy's name. "Leaving poor Moony out of the name game?" he asked.
James snorted. "The next boy we have," He said. "Marleen was here earlier."
"She was?" Sirius bit his lower lip, thinking about the beautiful Marleen McKinnon. It had been some time since they last saw one another, too long in Sirius' opinion despite having been to her flat the previous week.
"She was," James confirmed as he nodded. "Lily named her Peter's godmother."
"Not her sister?" Sirius asked though he wasn't surprised. He knew Lily's relationship with her sister was...intense, to put it simply. They reminded him about his relations with his younger brother, Regulus, though on a different level. Sirius thought of his brother at that moment. He wondered if the little idiot was dreaming about their mother's delusional rants on pure-blood superiority.
"No, not Petunia," James said. "Their last conversation was...difficult."
Sirius nodded and looked down at Peter, whose hazel eyes were staring up at him. Sirius smiled and said to the newborn, "Hello, Peter. I'm your Uncle Padfoot."
24 October 1992
Sirius thought he was seeing the ghost of his best friend when he saw Peter's hazel eyes. The young man was across from him, staring at him as though he killed his parents. Merlin, Sirius knew the boy thought that. How could he not? Having been told all his life that he had betrayed his parents, it was impossible to dispute the allegations. Especially with him in Azkaban. Though, Sirius wondered if Peter knew he hadn't had a trial for what he reportedly did.
"Uncle Padfoot," the eighteen-year-old wizard spat with such hostility, it made Sirius feel as though the dementors were giving him the Kiss.
"Pete," Sirius said, inwardly cringing at the tone of his voice. It had been quite some since he last spoke to someone he actually liked, though he knew his eldest godson felt the opposite. "You've...You're all grown up."
"It's been almost eleven years since I last saw you," Peter said, his tone stiff and his gaze cold.
Sirius nodded, grimacing at the sudden movement he made with his neck. Transforming between his normal appearance and his animagus form had started to become more difficult on him, and he didn't know if the Dementors had a part to play in that or the meager food he often shoved down his throat.
"That night..." Sirius said, his head lowering as he remembered walking into the Potter's cottage. Or what was left of it. He had been prepared to take the kids and run, figuring they would be safer with him after what Pettigrew had done, the Potter siblings wouldn't be safe with him near them. If only Hagrid hadn't shown up when he did.
"Yeah, that night," Peter said, his voice cutting through Sirius like a newly sharpened sword ready to cut off some condemned bastards head. Sirius imagined Peter would gladly take his head if a sword were in his hands at that moment. He wouldn't blame the boy. He would have done the same thing, maybe he would have a chance if he discovered anything about Pettigrew and his whereabouts. He would just have to escape Azkaban first.
"How are you here, Peter?" Sirius found himself asking without really thinking about what he was saying. "Only Ministry officials are allowed here. The Minister himself is the only one allowed...visitation with me."
"I'm training to be an Auror," the teenager revealed to Sirius, which caused him to look up at his best friend's eldest and grin with pride, only for it to falter when the boy recoiled from what Sirius could only describe as disgust. Peter's face contorted as he stared at Sirius, disturbed and about ready to jump out of his seat and leave. A part of Sirius couldn't blame the boy, no, the young man. Peter wasn't a boy anymore, probably not since his parents died and he took responsibility for that. He wasn't there for Peter and siblings. He betrayed them by putting James and Lily's trust in Pettigrew. He took Peter's parents away, he made the wizard before him an orphan, without a mother and a father. And he was to blame. Him and Pettigrew.
"That's good," Sirius said, subduing any facial expression left for Peter to be horrified by. "You're father would be proud."
"Would he?" Peter asked, his voice dripping with stone-cold skepticism and child-like curiosity. Sirius didn't know which sound was worse, coming from his godson.
"Probably not," Sirius admitted. "Your father," He chuckled, forcing his throat to remain calm when he felt as though he was going to throw up a lung from the sound he was making. "Your dad always got in trouble with the law, though more often than not it was with the muggle police."
If anything, Sirius was exaggerating. Their chase by police - and eventually Death Eaters - only occurred once and it had started out with a ride on Sirius' motorbike. It had been in good spirits at the beginning, and they hadn't gotten caught by either muggles or wizards.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Peter questioned with a sense of amusement radiating on his face, momentarily sounding comfortable until he looked at Sirius, who knew that the young man had forgotten he was talking to him.
As Peter's amusement turned back into a glare, Sirius braced himself for the young man to want to leave.
"You're going to become an Auror," Sirius said, hoping to prolong their interaction. It had been so long since he last saw Peter, and only Merlin knew when he would see him again.
"I'm going to be an Auror," Peter confirmed. "I've got this paper for a class that's due at the beginning of November and for some reason, I chose you as the subject."
"Me?"
"You." Peter leaned forward as he took out some sort of muggle device. After a moment, Sirius recognized it as a tape recorder, Lily used to have one in her house, though it played music and not recorded people. "The least you can give me after all these years is an explanation."
"An explanation?"
"Why you sold my parents out to Voldemort," Peter said without a silver of discomfort or fear when he spoke You-Know-Who's moniker. "I don't even want an apology, it's too late for that. Just give me a reason why you did it."
"I'd gladly tell you why, if I actually had done what you're implying," Sirius said, grimacing with each word as his voice adjusted to speaking for a long period of time.
Peter's lips curled into a scowl. "You were Dad's best friend and you betrayed him and Mum."
"I did," Sirius agreed, "But not in the way you are thinking. I didn't betray them to Voldemort."
"You were their...you were their...Merlin, what's the blasted word?"
"Secret-Keeper," Sirius supplied. "And no, I wasn't their Secret-Keeper."
Peter stared at him, his hazel eyes staring at him with suspicion and hatred Sirius couldn't blame him for. "Yes, you were. You knew where we lived."
"I did, but I wasn't the only one," Sirius pointed out. "I knew where you lived but I wasn't the Secret-Keeper. Your parents didn't perform the Fidelius Charm with me as their Secret-Keeper. He told me where your parents were hiding but I didn't tell anyone else, certainly not Voldemort."
"Okay, let's say you're telling the truth," Peter said, his eyes lowering as he stared at Sirius. "Who was the Secret-Keeper?"
Sirius glanced around the room. The guards were no longer present, to his relief. He knew they were still watching him though, they always were when he was in here despite that not being often. At least he could count on the room being soundproof thanks to the wards keeping him from physically leaving in his human form without the guards there to drag him out.
Looking back at Peter, Sirius licked his dry lips and said, "Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail."
Sirius didn't react when Peter shot up from his seat. The younger wizard clenched his hands into fists and Sirius was expecting to take a couple of hits from those fists but they never came.
"That can't be true," Peter said, looking down at Sirius with a series of emotions undetectable to everyone in the room, including Peter himself if Sirius didn't know any better. "You killed him!"
"I wish I could take responsibility for that if he were actually dead," Sirius said, though more to himself than Peter. "That day was more complicated than you could ever imagine, Peter. Many years in the making that day led up to, Merlin, how things could have been so different."
Sirius dropped his head as he began to remember things he couldn't explain. The friendships he built with his fellow Marauders. James and Lily and their children. That blasted day. He barely heard the chair scraping against the concrete floor, and didn't look up until he heard Peter speak.
"Tell me then," the young wizard demanded, his voice sounding conflicted and terrified. "What really happened on that day?"
Sirus sighed, but for once it was out of gratitude. No one had ever heard his side of the story, not until now and, to be honest, he had no idea how he was going to explain it until he did.
"I don't know if you remember this or not since I imagine your Uncle Moony didn't take you and your siblings in," Sirius started off with. "He's a werewolf."
Glancing at Peter, the young man didn't react so it was hard for Sirius to tell if he remembered or not. He knew Lily and James had explained to Peter and Susan, as they were the eldest, that their Uncle Moony was a werewolf but not to be afraid of him.
"Your dad, me, and Wormtail, we discovered Moony was one in our second year at Hogwarts," Sirius continued on without waiting for Peter to respond, though a part of him knew the young man wouldn't. "He was expecting us to shun him and when he didn't, he thought we were all barking mad." Despite himself, he chuckled before lowering his voice enough that only Peter and he heard what he said next. "He thought we were delusional when we proposed to become animagi. It took us a few years but we managed well enough to illegally transform into animals." He glanced around the room as he raised his voice a little, in case the guards could hear him. He was becoming more paranoid, Sirius knew, the more he spoke.
"Your dad became a stag, the same as his Patronus," Sirius continued on. "I a black dog and Wormtail a rat. We became them to keep Moony company during the full moons, it kept him from going mad during those times before the Wolfsbane potion was created." He looked away, wondering how his old friend was holding up now. "After Voldemort killed your parents and you and your siblings were taken to your aunt and uncle's, I went after Wormtail. It was reckless and impulsive, I now know." He looked up at Peter as he continued speaking. "I found him in the middle of a muggle road. Before I could even get a word in or my wand out, he was yelling about me betraying your parents before he cut off a finger and blew up the street we stood on. I remember being thrown back by the explosion but I remember seeing that damned rat scurrying off into the sewers."
"That still doesn't explain why you feel as though you're responsible for their deaths," Peter said, his facial expression slowly breaking but his voice remaining leveled.
Sirius nodded. "I was the one who suggested Wormtail be their Secret-Keeper," He revealed. "Your parents wanted me to be it but I convinced them to put Wormtail in my place and tell a few people I was their Secret-Keeper to throw off potential traitors." He snorted as he said this. "If only we knew the traitor was the bastard we trusted the most with you and your family's secret."
Despite himself having a lot more to say, Sirius didn't speak much afterward, not that Peter had many questions to ask. The young man merely stared at him for a long time before he quietly said his goodbyes and left, taking his recording device with him.
As the guards came back into the room, Sirius wondered if his godson would return. He wondered if the boy believed him. He hoped so, it had been so long since someone believed a word he said.
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