In the hours before that fateful halloween night, Peter made a choice that he would never forget.
Written for the houses competition
House: Ravenclaw
Category: Short Story
Prompt: Running out of Time
Words: 1518
6:00
The Dark Lord motioned for Peter to sit down as food appeared on the table. He did as he was told, trying but failing to hide his fear. The Dark Lord didn't summon his servants to dine with him often, especially not those in the lower ranks.
"Pettigrew, I have some good news for you," the Dark Lord said, lifting his fork and inspecting the piece of steak on it.
Peter nodded, unsure of what else to do. His mind was reeling, trying to figure out what the Dark Lord was going to say.
"I have planned an attack on the Potters," the Dark Lord continued. His voice was casual as he looked at Peter out of the corner of his eye.
Peter's stomach twisted into a knot as the Dark Lord thoughtfully picked up a grape from the bowl of fruit in front of him.
"Does this distress you, Pettigrew?"
"Of course not, my Lord," Peter answered, a little too quickly.
"Good," the Dark Lord nodded, although it was clear that he had noticed Peter's haste. "Then it will please you to know that the job will be done at eleven o'clock tonight."
"That is wonderful, my Lord," Peter responded, still trying to reign in his thoughts. He wasn't James' friend anymore, that was over. "My Lord, Dumbledore's Order has a meeting in fifteen minutes."
"Go then, and bring me back useful information."
Peter stood up and bowed before quickly leaving the room.
6:30
Peter knew that he was lying to himself when he said that he wasn't James' friend anymore. It was him that wasn't behaving like a friend. James had greeted him as he always did, with a large smile and a clap on the back. There was a time when that would have relaxed the young wizard, but not anymore. Peter opened his mouth to give his customary greeting, but quickly closed it again, afraid that he might tell him the Dark Lord's plan.
"Are you alright, Wormtail?" James asked, smiling down at his friend.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter said. "James..." he began, his heart racing.
"Yes? Wormtail, what's going on?" James asked, all lightness gone from his voice.
Peter hesitated. "Nothing, it's not important," he said hastily, fear suddenly gripping him. If he told James, then the Dark Lord would be after him, and the Order would offer no protection. Not to a traitor.
Peter shook his head to clear his thoughts. "We'd best get to the meeting," he said.
James nodded, looking at Peter with concern. He clapped him on the back again and moved to the meeting room, leaving him alone.
8:30
Peter apparated home. Two hours. He'd had two hours that he could've told James, but he hadn't. He sat down on his small bed, mentally kicking himself. He knew that James, Lily, and little Harry didn't deserve death, but Peter was afraid of it.
"Why does it always have to be me?" Peter groaned out loud to his empty flat. He fell back on his bed and soon fell into a fitful slumber.
9:15
When Peter woke, the first thing he did was look at the clock. Nine fifteen. He got up and quickly busied himself with making a small supper.
'They wouldn't understand,' he thought. 'If I tell them, they'll kill me, and even if they don't, he will.' Perhaps Remus would've listened, but James and Sirius wouldn't. Maybe he could tell Dumbledore.
Peter shook his head as he took his supper off the stove. He placed it on the table and went to get a plate from the cupboard. He took it down with shaking hands.
"No," he said to the empty room. "James is my friend, my brother. I won't let you."
He grabbed his wand and disappeared with a crack.
9:45
In the small village of Godric's Hollow, young children and their parents walked from house to house, gathering candy and waving to their friends. Many people had already gone home when a crack sounded in a small alleyway.
Peter stepped onto the street, still shaking, and headed briskly towards James and Lily's house.
'I can't let them die, I can't let them die,' he repeated over and over in his mind.
As he turned onto their street and the Potters' house came into view, Peter froze. How could he walk into his best friend's house and tell them that he had betrayed their trust? How could he tell them that they had to run, and hide, and abandon their home, their oasis of happiness, because he had been too scared to do the right thing?
Peter shook his head and took a step back. He couldn't, he just couldn't. And with a crack, Peter was gone.
10:00
"Why am I such a coward?" Peter cried when he arrived back at his flat. He walked to the mirror that was hanging on the wall.
The face that looked back at Peter was one that he would never forget. His skin was a sickly white and his eyes were full of fear and guilt. What this what he had become? He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the dark mark that was burned onto his skin.
'The mark of a traitor,' he thought. He grabbed his wand and pointed it at his arm. "Scourgify," He muttered. Nothing happened.
Crying out in distress, Peter threw his wand to the side and buried his head in his hands. He soon let out another sob as he felt the mark burn. He had been summoned.
10:05
All of the Dark Lord's top Death Eaters had gathered in the large meeting room when the Dark Lord walked in.
"My loyal servants," he began. "I have news to tell you. Tonight, the Potters will die, and tomorrow the Wizarding world's hope will be destroyed. Victory, my loyal followers, is within our grasp, and tonight… tonight we will seize it."
A small murmur of approval rose from the assembled Death Eaters. Peter didn't say anything, he stood silently, rooted to the spot. The Dark Lord was speaking again.
"Tonight, one hour before midnight, I will go alone to the Potters' house and kill them all."
After that, the Dark Lord left the room, closely followed by Snape. Peter stood still as the remaining Death Eaters began to disapparate.
10:30
Half an hour. He still had time. He could still apparate there before he did. He could still save them. But how? He was scared, he knew what the right thing to do was, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Coward! The word rang through his head. It was James' voice that said it. It was always James' voice. There was a time that Peter had looked up to James. He still did.
But there wasn't time anymore, was there? It was over, he had made his choice. Or had he? Was it possible that he still had time?
His heart beating rapidly, Peter grabbed his wand again and prepared to apparate. He stopped.
10:45
He would never convince James to believe him in time. It would take forever, and he didn't have that long. For all his faults, James' biggest one was trust. He trusted his friends with everything in him. When Sirius had suspected that Remus was the traitor, James had brushed it off as ridiculous. And he had been right. Remus wasn't the traitor, he was. But James had trusted him too. He had made him his Secret Keeper, because he had trusted him. It wasn't even that Peter was a good liar, he never had been, James was just too blinded by trust.
Peter began to pace restlessly. It wasn't right. None of this was right. It wasn't supposed to get this far. Peter still didn't know why he had chosen to betray the Order, or why he had let James make him their Secret Keeper. But he had, and he had betrayed his friends to the Dark Lord.
10:57
Peter looked at the clock and his heart skipped a beat. He was too late.
"No," he decided and disappeared.
10:58
Peter might not have been the best at spells, but he knew the incantations. He knew that James would put up a good fight. When Peter appeared again he was a few streets away from the Potters'. He ran.
10:59
He hated running, but that wasn't important now. With his wand in his hand, Peter sprinted as if his life depended on it, and in a way it did. He would never forgive himself if James died. He would never forget his weakness.
11:00
As Peter rounded the corner, he saw a dark figure blast open the Potters' door. Peter tried to keep running, but his feet wouldn't obey. There was a flash of green light and Peter knew.
He was too late, he had run out of time. James was dead, and soon Lily and Harry would be too. It was his fault. He was a coward. And they were gone.