J.M.J.

A/N: Hello and thank you for reading this story! It is a sequel to an earlier story I wrote, entitled "In Your World, I Have Another Name." This story might make a little more sense if you read the other one first (it's pretty short – under 2000 words). You won't be lost in this one, by any means, but the first story gives some important background.

That being said, this is a very Catholic story in many ways. If that bothers you, you don't need to read it. If you decide to read it anyway, please just be respectful of my beliefs.

I own nothing, and I have a few quotes in here which I give the source for at the end of the story.

Thank you again for reading it, and if you have any thoughts (either positive comments or constructive criticism), I'd love to hear them!

Before the Cock Crows

The snow rattled the window in small, hard chunks. It was more like hail than snow. Even though it had been snowing for several weeks already, the snow never stayed. It always melted almost as soon as it hit the ground. Today, though, for the first time, a little but lumpy sheet of white was nearly covering the grass outside.

Edmund was couldn't help but stare at the snow outside. He hadn't been too pleased when it had started snowing in the middle of October. It was still early November, and already winter was rapidly leaving autumn behind. Edmund didn't care much for snow – especially unseasonable snow, but not just for the usual reasons. The cold and icy walkways and slippery streets were only part of it. The main problem was what it reminded him of.

"Mr. Pevensie, we'd all be delighted if you joined us."

Edmund snapped out of his distraction to find his teacher and the entire class staring at him. Most of the kids were either smirking or rolling their eyes, and the sarcastic tone in Mr. Harrington's voice told him that the teacher had been trying to get his attention for some time by now.

"Sorry, Mr. Harrington," Edmund said, stealing a glance at the clock on the wall behind the teacher's head. When was school going to be out?

It wasn't that this school was as bad as Hendon House, the boarding school where Edmund and Peter had gone during the first few years of the War. In fact, Edmund was glad to be back at an ordinary school where he could go home every evening, even if he was only getting to go for his last year. There was just too much to think about right now to focus on history. At least, it was the last period of the day and there was only forty-five minutes left, and it was Friday. Once he got through this last bit of class, he'd have all weekend to try to sort things out.

"Since you seem to know the material so well that you don't need to listen during class, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling explaining to us the events leading up to the Hundred Years' War, Mr. Pevensie," Mr. Harrington said.

Edmund sighed. He hated being singled out like this. It reminded him of – that – almost as much as the snow did. The best thing to do was to cooperate and hope that Mr. Harrington would go back to talking. Remembering the lessons for the last few days as well as he could, Edmund gave a mostly satisfactory answer. Mr. Harrington responded with a little grunt, apparently disappointed that being distracted hadn't caused Edmund to miss the lessons altogether.

Almost as soon as everyone's attention was off Edmund, he went back to thinking about all the things that were on his mind. It had been a tumultuous couple of years. The War had ended about a year and a half ago. Mum and Dad and Susan had finally come back from America, and Edmund and Lucy had gone home from Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold's house. Before that, though, Edmund and Lucy had gotten to Narnia for the last time. He remembered when Aslan had told Peter and Susan that they wouldn't be coming back that Peter had said that he was surprised but it was all right. Edmund felt much the same way, but there was still a certain emptiness knowing that he'd never get back to Narnia.

It had been harder for Lucy. As much as the others all loved Narnia, Lucy had always loved it the most and now she missed it the most. Besides that, Lucy had always had a special kinship with Aslan, one that Edmund always wished he could have, but in view of everything, he doubted that that was even possible. For a long time, after he and Lucy and Eustace had left Narnia, it didn't seem like there was anything to do about it. Aslan didn't visit them in the same way here as He did in Narnia. Then a few weeks ago, Lucy had not come back all night. Edmund and his parents had gone out looking for her, practically frantic. Then Edmund had found her, happier than he had seen her since they had left Narnia. Then she told him that she had found Him, here, in England, and had dragged him back to a little Catholic church. Edmund had been confused, to say the least. He couldn't see Him anywhere, but Lucy insisted, and Edmund remembered all the times something like this had happened in Narnia and how Lucy was always right. So, he believed. It didn't really make sense to him, but if anyone would know about this, it would be Lucy.

The bell rang, and Edmund realized that he hadn't heard another word that Mr. Harrington had said for the rest of class. Fortunately, Mr. Harrington didn't seem to have noticed. At any rate, he didn't say anything about it. Edmund hurried to gather up his things and start walking home as quickly as he could, his hands stuffed in his pockets against the cold.

The way home from school led right past the little Catholic church that Lucy had found, which was called St. Peter's. Edmund looked at it as he went past, noticing the sign in front that listed all the Mass times. He knew that Lucy went to the church every day and went to Mass on Sundays now, although she couldn't go to Mass on weekdays because of school. The thought crossed his mind to go in now, but he changed his mind and just kept going.

That night, there was a regular snowstorm. The wind was howling, and the snow was falling so thick that Edmund could just barely see the streetlamp under his window. He couldn't get to sleep, so he sat down next to the window and watched. The snow swirling around the streetlamp reminded him once again of those first few days he had spent in Narnia. It had only been a few days, compared to all the years that had gone by since then, but he'd never really gotten past it. By now, he doubted he ever would.

Peter and Lucy were always telling him that it was all right. Sometimes he believed them. He'd remember that talk he had had with Aslan, all the way back when it first happened, and that always helped. But none of it changed the fact that it had happened. He had betrayed his own siblings, had helped an evil witch, and had caused Aslan to be killed on the Stone Table. It took a lot to believe that it would ever really be all right.

He must have dozed off, because he seemed to hear a voice saying, "I can make anything you like … You're exactly the sort of boy whom I could see, one day, being Prince of Narnia. Maybe even king."* Edmund woke up with a start, his heart beating faster than usual. He'd have dreams like this every few months, at least, ever since that day, but he never got used to them. After all, they weren't just dreams.

By morning, the storm had abated, and Edmund hadn't slept at all. He was still sitting next to the window, looking down at the streetlamp below that was glistening on the snow that had fallen. The sun still hadn't come up yet. Then Edmund remembered the sign outside St. Peter's Church and how it had said that there was Mass at six o'clock in the morning on Saturdays. Almost on an impulse, Edmund got up and got dressed. He left a note on the kitchen table, and then hurried along the snowy streets until he came to the church. He slipped inside and sat near the back.

Almost all the words of Mass were in Latin, and Edmund didn't really understand much of them, other than what he could piece together from his two years of studying Latin in school. Even so, he took Lucy's word seriously and paid respectful attention to what he could understand and was just respectful for what he couldn't. The only part that wasn't in Latin – apart from a little bit of Greek and Hebrew – was the priest's homily. Edmund had met Father Talbot before this, and already had gained a respect for him, so he listened attentively.

The subject of the homily was remaining faithful to God in a world that often discourages it. Edmund was just starting to think about how much easier that sort of thing had been in Narnia, when Father Talbot said something that snapped his attention back.

"The Gospels give us three examples that stand out in particular during the accounts of the Passion. All of these examples are Apostles, actually. The first, and probably most obvious, is St. John. When Our Lord was arrested, St. John followed behind Him at a distance, but then he stood beneath the Cross, remaining with Our Lord through the rest of His agony."

A thought came to Edmund as Father Talbot described the scene. Lucy had told him about what had happened at the Stone Table, how she and Susan had followed Aslan to it and then had remained with him all night. He had never thought of a parallel between Lucy and John before, but now that he had thought of it, comparing Lucy to the Beloved Disciple made sense. He shuddered as he thought which Apostle he might be compared to.

As if in response to Edmund's thought, Father Talbot brought that up next. "The next example is the one that we must all strive to be unlike. This example, of course, is Judas, who betrayed Our Lord for thirty pieces of silver. What a small amount to sell out his God, Whom he had spent every day of the last three years with! And in the end, Judas didn't even get any enjoyment out of the blood money. Disgusted with it, he gave it back to the chief priests and then, in despair, he took his own life."

Edmund felt a lump forming in his throat and his shoulders sagged. Here, again, was another parallel, but what a terrible one! He thought of the small price for which he had sold out his siblings and caused Aslan to die in his place and how, now, he couldn't even stand the sight of Turkish Delight. Whatever other dismal thoughts he might have had on the subject were interrupted by Father Talbot continuing.

"The last example that the Apostles provide for us may well be the most useful for many of us. This is the example of the patron of our parish, St. Peter. Like St. John, he followed at a distance behind Our Lord, but he didn't go inside as St. John did. Instead, he remained outside, too afraid to follow any more. Rather than standing at the foot of the Cross like St. John, he denied Our Lord three times, just as He had said. You might say – and you wouldn't be wrong – that St. Peter betrayed Our Lord, perhaps as much even as Judas. After all, Our Lord died for St. Peter's sins as much as Judas's. The real difference between the two is that St. Peter accepted Our Lord's mercy, while Judas despaired of it. Because of this difference, Judas has gone down in history as one of the most despicable people to have ever lived, while St. Peter is honored as one of the greatest."

That wasn't the end of the homily, and no doubt the rest was well worth listening to, but it seemed like these words were the ones meant for Edmund. He thought back to how his betrayal of his siblings had been three-fold – when he had told the Witch where they were when he first arrived at her castle, when he had told her about Aslan in her dungeons, and when he had told her where Aslan was at the waterfall. But now, for the first time, he realized what should have been obvious – he'd even said the words before, that "even a traitor may mend."** Yet, for the first time, it really seemed true that there were other people who had done things as terrible as he had, but they had really, truly changed. All at once, he felt a peace that he had never felt before. It felt like coming home.

A little later, at the Consecration, Edmund seemed to hear a voice inside him say, "I will be with you always, even unto the end of the world."*** And all at once, he understood what Lucy had meant. It was different, but He was here, and so it was wonderful.

*The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (2005)

**The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis (1954)

***Matthew 28:20