Chapter 37: Betrayal
When the moon finally set, Russet was exhausted. As Moony resumed human form amid howls and screams, Russet wearily did the same.
Though he could barely stand, Harry took the time to repair the trapdoor. He also added a few spells of his own creation to reinforce it. Just as he was finishing, ready to collapse, he heard a groan from behind him.
"H-Harry?" Remus's voice was hoarse from screaming.
Harry forced a smile onto his face and turned around. "Welcome back, Remus."
Remus started to smile, then his eyes widened in horror. "What happened?" His eyes roved over Harry's many cuts and gashes, then his face clouded with guilt. "Where are the others? What did I—"
"Relax," Harry cut him off. "Pomphrey should be here soon. Just rest until she gets here, and I'll explain later.
"But you're hurt! You're bleeding, and it's all my fault! I knew this was a terrible—ah!" Remus gasped and clutched at his side. Harry winced; he'd tried not to, but hurting the werewolf had been inevitable in their fight. Harry hurried to his side, but he barely made it a few paces before his knees buckled. He grunted, his vision going black for a moment.
When his vision cleared, Harry raised his wand and cast a simple diagnostic spell. Thankfully, the bruised rib was the worst injury Remus had suffered. But he was also covered in cuts and bruises.
"Just a rib or two. You'll be fine. Relax," Harry stressed. Remus opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out as the other boy's eyelids began to droop. Even not seriously injured, the transformation still took a lot out of him. With a slight smile, Harry lowered Remus's head and shoulders to the floor as he fell asleep.
Afterward, Harry had to sit for a moment to gather his strength before he dared to stand. Harry summoned a broken chair leg and transfigured it into a makeshift crutch, and then he struggled to his feet. He gasped at the pain; the crutch was the only reason he stayed upright, and that just barely. He glanced at Remus again, then began the arduous journey of hobbling back to the castle.
Lingering adrenaline and sheer determination got Harry out of the passage. But when he saw the distance he still had to cross, his vision swam. He shook his head to clear it and gasped as the world spun, then went black.
Barely a moment later, Harry realized he was still on his feet. Well, sort of; someone was supporting him.
"Blimey, Harry." Peter's worried voice seemed to come from a lot farther away than right by his ear. "Moony got you good."
"It looks worse than it is," Harry insisted, his voice slurring. "I'm fine."
Peter snorted. "You know, when someone passes out, they are very much not fine. I'm taking you to the hospital wing."
"Not again." Harry struggled to keep his eyes open. "Can't you just bandage me up and bring me to the dorm?"
There was no reply, or maybe Harry just didn't hear it. He didn't remember much of the trek back to the castle. The next thing Harry knew, he was waking up in a soft bed, a familiar sterile odor stinging his nose.
Harry groaned in dismay.
"Awake already?" Madame Pomphrey's disapproving voice cut through the fog in Harry's mind. He could almost see her pursed lips, hands on her hips as she stared down at him. "You're either tougher than I thought or I didn't drug you enough."
Harry finally opened his eyes, wincing slightly at the light and the stark white walls. "I'm tough?" he offered tentatively. Madame Pomphrey's face was exactly as intimidating as he'd imagined and he shrank back just a little.
Someone scoffed. Harry painfully turned his head to see Peter standing beside the bed. He rolled his eyes.
"More like insane," he muttered. "Idiot wanted to go back to the dorm and have me tend to him."
"Then it's a good thing you brought him here." James's voice came from the other side. Harry turned the other way to see him smiling faintly at Peter. "Small injuries are easy, but this…" He grimaced. "On someone else, even Harry would struggle to put them right."
Madame Pomphrey huffed and walked away, muttering about boys without even one iota of self-preservation. Harry could only smile sheepishly, though he hoped she didn't come back with more potions to shove down his throat.
"What happened?" James asked in an undertone as she walked away.
Harry cringed. "Moony was…unhappy with me interrupting his hunt. I had to herd him back to the shack against his will. But I did manage to get him there eventually, and fix the trap door."
"Unhappy?" James's voice cracked. "He mauled you!"
Harry waved him off—with his left hand, as his right arm was trapped against his chest and wrapped in bandages. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Besides," Harry smiled faintly, "cool scars for the birds, you know?"
James's lips twitched, but his eyes were dark with worry behind his glasses. "You're an idiot, Russet."
Harry shrugged, then winced. At the same moment, Madame Pomphrey returned—with an entire armful of potions. Harry groaned
"Do I have to?"
Pomphrey huffed in disapproval while James and Peter snickered. "You are severely injured, Mr. Carter. Therefore, you are required to submit to whatever treatment I prescribe. That means you will take every single one of these potions. Tomorrow morning is the earliest you can hope to leave." Pomphrey gave Harry a stern look. "But I'd make myself comfortable if I were you, because I will do my utmost to keep you here for at least the next week."
"Bad luck, mate," James said with a smirk, sliding out of bed.
"Not so fast, Mr. Potter," Pomphrey warned. "You will be staying here until this evening, and I don't want you walking on that leg until then."
Peter smirked. "Bad luck, mate," he teased. James scowled and dragged his legs back onto the bed. His face tightened in pain.
Madame Pomphrey nodded in approval, then gave Harry a very pointed look. He made a face and picked up the first potion. He had to reach across his body, using his left hand. The action pulled at his injuries and he winced. Harry downed the first potion, grimacing at the bitter taste, then repeated the process with the other half dozen vials the hospital matron had deposited beside him. There was a blood-replenishing potion, a draught to ward off infection, an extra-strength pain reliever, and a few others to promote healing. Harry ignored the sleeping potion, though.
"Mr. Carter…" Pomphrey said warningly.
"I don't want to sleep yet!" Harry protested. "I'm not even tired now." That was a lie; he was exhausted. "I swear I'll stay in bed and not exert myself."
The medi-witch gave him a searching look but conceded. "Very well. But if you break your word, I will force-feed you that potion and bind you to the bed."
Harry grinned cheekily. "Thanks, Madame Pomphrey."
She eyed him through narrowed eyes, then glanced at Peter and James. "Mr. Pettigrew, you may stay for a little while as long as you three stay quiet. But then I want you out so my patients can rest."
Peter's lips twitched. "Yes, ma'am." He clearly had no intention of leaving.
Madame Pomphrey gave them all one last warning look, then she returned to her office.
"Finally!" James shuffled off his bed and onto Harry's, falling dramatically across the mattress. Harry winced as his weight shifted the mattress and jarred his battered body. "I thought she'd never leave."
"So what happened last night?" Peter asked. "I waited for you all to come back, but you never did."
James's face darkened. "After dinner, I went looking for Sirius, right? I found him on the first floor, with Snape. I stayed out of sight; they were talking. Just talking, so I stayed to listen. Snape said some things about Moony, but instead of getting mad, Sirius…smiled. Well, smirked, really. And then he said, 'You want answers? Be at the base of the Whomping Willow just after moonrise tonight. There's a knot on the trunk that'll make the tree stop moving. Then you'll find out everything you want to know.'"
Peter gasped. Harry cursed.
"Of course, I confronted Sirius once Snape left. He grinned like it was a great joke. I punched him." James's jaw clenched. "It was nearly moonrise already, so I followed Snape."
*James's POV*
James ran flat-out across the grounds as the moon rose, arriving within sight of the Whomping Willow just in time to see a familiar, skinny, black-haired figure disappear into the tunnel. James cursed fluently—and breathlessly—and ran faster. He slipped beneath the thrashing branches with a chaser's agility and slid into the tunnel.
He hit the bottom with a grunt then stood and took off at a run. Tripping and stumbling in the darkness, his shoes slapping the hard-packed ground, James ran as fast as he could. Once he was within earshot of the other boy, he shouted breathlessly after the Slytherin.
"Snape! Stop! Turn around!"
The other boy didn't seem to hear. Gasping for breath, James finally caught up when he reached the Shack. Without hesitation, James grabbed the back of Snape's robes and yanked him backward, just as a frenzied howl and a thud sounded from directly above them and made James's heart skip a beat.
"Get off me, Potter!" Snape growled, shaking off James's grip and regaining his feet.
"You don't get it! You'll be killed if you stay here. Now run!" James said through gritted teeth.
"Why should I? You wanted me down here; are you too afraid to see your prank through?" Snape sneered.
James opened his mouth to retort when another thud echoed above them, stronger this time, and James saw the trapdoor give slightly. His mouth went dry and his heart, already pounding, skipped a beat before tripling its speed.
"I had nothing to do with this! Now let's get out of here before he breaks through!" James's voice cracked as he pulled roughly on the Slytherin's robes again. When Snape stumbled, James pushed him back the other way, away from the trapdoor.
"Don't push me, Potter. And you had everything to do with this! You and Black are always plotting together! Don't deny it!"
James glared fiercely, but before he could reply a loud, splintering crack split the quiet in the passage. It was accompanied by an angry growl. James froze in horror as the werewolf's snout poked through the new hole in the trapdoor. Another frustrated growl snapped him out of his trance. Snape took off running and James was immediately behind him. His chest hurt, he couldn't breathe, and his sides were cramping, but he didn't stop. A loud barking growl sounded behind him, along with another splintering noise and the sound of something heavy hitting the hard-packed dirt. James sped up, gasping, but when he drew even with Snape, the other boy shoved him backward.
James stumbled, unable to catch his breath, and nearly fell. He turned just in time to see the werewolf lunge. Desperately James pointed his wand and yelled "Stupefy!" It missed and razor-sharp claws suddenly raked down James's lower leg, tearing deep gouges in his calf. With a sharp gasp James scrambled to his feet and took off running faster than he'd ever run in his life. Adrenaline stopped the pain for now, and he shouted any spell that came to mind as the werewolf pursued them.
"Impedimenta!" "Stupefy!" "Conjunctivitus!"
The tawny wolf stumbled, and James took the brief respite to put on a burst of speed that caught him up to Snape. "I can't—hold him off—alone," he gasped. "Stunning spells—on three?"
Snape, still running, looked about to refuse, not the least inclined to cooperate with a Potter, but in that moment the snarling wolf leapt from the shadows, its claws barely missing the Slytherin's leg as he jumped back. His face a twisted mix of horror, fear, and disgust, he nodded once. Still running, James counted off.
"One—two—three!"
Spinning, they shouted in unison, "Stupefy!"
The overpowered stunner struck the wolf in the chest and he hit the ground hard, knocked out for now. On the next step, James's injured leg gave out beneath him and he crashed to the ground, landing hard. Pain lanced up his leg and black spots swam before his vision. Then a steely grip closed around his upper arm and roughly yanked him to his feet before disappearing. James, gasping, limped on as fast as he could with Snape just ahead of him.
When they emerged from the tunnel, they narrowly avoided the thrashing branches of the Whomping Willow. Only when they were more than a hundred yards away from the base of the tree did they stop running. James collapsed, choking and gasping for breath, his head spinning from pain and lack of air. Snape bent over, hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath. Moments later Harry and Professor McGonagall appeared.
"Then Harry went into the passage after Moony and McGonagall brought Snape and I to Dumbledore's office. I told McGonagall that Sirius needed to be there, too. We took turns telling our side of the story. Snape, the git, kept pretending he was completely innocent." James scoffed. "Like he hadn't chosen to go out there in the first place."
"And Sirius?" Peter asked, worrying his lower lip.
"Doesn't seem to realize that he almost got someone killed. Thought it was all a joke, like Snape deserved to be mauled by a werewolf."
Harry's fists clenched but he let James continue.
"We argued while Snape was with Dumbledore. Then Dumbledore called us in to give the verdict. Snape and I lost a few points—though Snape lost more. He was also sworn to secrecy about Moony, on pain of expulsion. Sirius got a two-week suspension. He was supposed to leave before breakfast this morning. And good riddance," James growled.
"He did leave," Peter supplied quietly. "McGonagall fetched him from the dorm early this morning. She said you would tell me what had happened." Peter looked at James. "Except I didn't know where you were, so I checked the map. Harry was in the tunnel and you were in the hospital wing. I went after Harry, just in time to catch him before he passed out." Peter gave Harry a wry look. Harry smiled sheepishly, though it felt wrong on his face.
"And here we are!" James announced with a wide grin. Harry was shocked at the abrupt change, until he heard a faint groan from the bed on his other side.
"Good morning, Moony!" James greeted cheerfully.
Remus grimaced. "Ugh. Why are you always so insufferably cheerful?" He pushed himself up into a sitting position with barely a wince. Pomphrey must have healed his ribs. "H-Harry?" Remus asked, stifling a yawn.
"Right here." Harry waved, forcing a grin and dreading the moment they'd have to tell Remus what Sirius had done.
"You look terrible." Remus tried to smile, but guilt clouded his expression.
"Yeah. But I chose this. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Harry said firmly.
Remus's lips twitched, then he looked around. "Where's Sirius? And…why did only Russet show up last night?"
"That traitor is serving his rightful sentence," James said fiercely. "He's been suspended."
Remus's eyes went wide. "What? Why? What…what happened?"
James refused to speak and Harry couldn't find words. So Peter quietly repeated the story James had told them.
"All because he lost the tournament?" Remus asked quietly.
The others exchanged a glance, but they could only shrug. Remus bit his lip, his expression a heartbreaking mix of disbelief, betrayal, hurt, and guilt.
A moment later, Madame Pomphrey returned with lunch for the entire group. Harry hadn't realized it was so late already. After they'd finished eating, the matron insisted that Peter leave so the others could rest. Peter flat-out refused in an uncharacteristic display of defiance.
Taken aback, Madame Pomphrey threatened a loss of points if he didn't leave. Peter stared steadily back, uncaring when she finally docked Gryffindor ten points.
"Take as many points as you want, ma'am. I'm not leaving my friends," he declared.
Remus covered his mouth with one hand, his eyes glassy. Harry swallowed hard and James grabbed Harry's wrist and held on tight.
Madame Pomphrey stared back, but eventually she gave in. "Oh, very well. But don't you dare get rowdy. They need rest."
Peter grinned. "Thank you, ma'am."
The matron huffed but departed, leaving them alone.
Once she was gone, Peter levitated Remus's bed and moved it closer to Harry's so they were side-by-side. Then he sat between Remus and James.
"Are you really okay, Harry?" Remus asked worriedly.
Harry's lips twitched. "I'll be fine in a day or two." Then he stared pointedly at Remus. "And don't you dare blame yourself. None of this is your fault."
"But it is." Remus looked at his hands as he picked at a loose thread on the sheet. "If I weren't…what I am, Snape wouldn't have wanted to get me expelled, Sirius wouldn't have used me to get him expelled, and no one would have ever gotten hurt."
Peter slapped Remus's face. Not hard, but it caught his attention. "Shut up. Harry's right; none of this is your fault, Moony."
"If you weren't who you are," Harry corrected Remus, "the Marauders wouldn't exist."
"Exactly." James stared pointedly at Remus. "You're the glue that holds us all together—you and Harry, that is."
"And the wedge that's forcing us apart." Remus looked away, his hands trembling. "It's because of me that Sirius got suspended, that Harry got hurt, that—"
"That's not on you," James said fiercely. "That's completely on Sirius. He's the one who betrayed us—betrayed you."
James's voice cracked, as though he was only just realizing the implications of what had happened.
At the word "betray" Harry couldn't help but glance at Peter. But he looked just as determined and insistent as James. And Harry realized that there was no Wormtail anymore. The nickname remained, but the traitor Harry knew in the future no longer existed. There was no way this Peter could betray his friends.
At the same time, Harry's anger at Sirius suddenly peaked. In the back of his mind, he knew that eventually Sirius would come to regret his actions. But right now, all he could think was that Harry had warned him, countless times, to leave Severus alone. And he'd gone and done this anyway, and tore the Marauders apart in one fell swoop.
"But why would he go so far? And just for petty revenge?" Remus's eyes were unnaturally bright. "Why?"
Remus's voice broke. James gripped Remus's arm with his free hand, while the hand around Harry's wrist tightened painfully. Peter bit his lip and put an arm around Remus's shoulders. Remus leaned into Peter, his head bowed. Harry freed his right arm from its sling and reached across the gap to put a hand on Remus's knee, and tried not to squeeze too hard in anger. His injuries protested at his awkward position, but Harry didn't care.
I hope you realize quickly what you've done to us, Sirius.
