"Backstabber"

"Lily and James Potter"

OCTOBER 1981

James stared at the green block that lay on the floor in the parlor, his eyes watering with the effort not to blink. Marlene was dead. Dorcas was dead. Fabian was dead. Gideon was dead. Benjy was dead. Dumbledore thought that security needed to be increased significantly given recent events. Order of the Phoenix members were dropping like Chasers hit with Bludgers out of the sky. The Fidelius Charm had been brought up before, but it was such a newly developed charm that James worried about the ramifications of it all.

Except if they didn't go that deep into hiding, then James could lose Lily and Harry. James couldn't lose them. Not them. James finally blinked, a stray tear escaping his eye. James wanted to talk to Fleamont, seek his advice. Fleamont would tell them what the best course of action was and he would be right. Except there was no Fleamont anymore. There was no Euphemia. There was just James and he was drowning from the responsibility of the decisions laid out in front of him.

He was only twenty-one years old. It seemed like just yesterday he donned a Gryffindor tie and was messing up his hair. Screwing his eyes shut, he could remember racing through the corridors to make it to class on time, laughing as Sirius flicked his cigarette before they'd burst into the classroom with some outrageous story about why they had been late. It felt like just yesterday when he had married Lily, his parents beaming with pride, and he felt like he had been the luckiest bloke in the world.

Now, it was different. Now, he was an adult with very serious decisions to make. They weren't normal adult decisions either. These were life and death situations that involved the only family he had left.

There had been no doubt in his mind who their Secret Keeper needed to be. While James appreciated Dumbledore's offer, knew that Dumbledore's loyalty towards the Potter family ran deep because of his friendship with James' deceased grandfather and subsequent relationship with Fleamont, he had an undeniable urge to prove Dumbledore wrong and show him Sirius was more than his surname. Sirius was the only person in the entire fucking world that loved Harry as much as James and Lily loved him. There was no doubt in his mind that Sirius was the only one who would not break.

His heart twisted painfully in his chest since he knew he was sentencing Sirius to an early death by asking him to be their Secret Keeper. It would only be a matter of time before Sirius was captured, tortured, and murdered for holding the secret. James didn't know how he would be able to live with that knowledge. He didn't want Sirius to die… to lose the only brother he had ever truly known.

"Dada!" Harry chirped as he held up a plastic cup for James to see. "Dada!"

James accepted the cup and brought it to his lips, pretending to take a sip. Harry beamed as he snatched the cup and took a sip for himself. Harry stomped his feet, a giggle escaping his lips as his black hair fell into his eyes. James' chest grew tight.

It had to be Sirius. In fact, Sirius would be upset if anyone else dared to protect his godson except for him. Sirius wouldn't care about dying. With Marlene gone, Sirius would probably prefer to go out in a blaze of defiance. James hated the very thought of it. He could just imagine a bleeding Sirius laughing his fucking arse off and telling Voldemort to suck his cock.

The front door sounded and James knew he would have to barrel right into the ask or else he wouldn't be able to. James needed to get the words out before he chickened out. Sirius was Harry's only chance at survival.

"Prongs!" Sirius' voice called.

Harry hissed, his entire face lighting up as he dropped the cup to the ground. When Sirius peered into the doorway of the parlor, Harry scampered across the room as he squealed. A genuine smile crossed Sirius' face as he bent down and scooped the toddler into his arms. Sirius peppered Harry's cheeks and forehead with kisses which only had Harry laughing even more.

"Hey, Padfoot," James greeted, his voice low and monotone.

Sirius frowned. "Where's Evans?"

James sucked in a breath. Lily had burst into tears after the meeting with Dumbledore and over what needed to be asked of Sirius. She said she couldn't be there when he was asked, she couldn't bear to hear him sentence himself to potential torture and death. James didn't blame her. He could barely stomach it himself. James took one look at Harry and knew it was what needed to be done. All three of them would go down in a blaze of glory to protect that little boy.

"Upstairs having a lie-in," James replied, his gaze dropping to the green block once more.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked as he sat down next to James on the floor with Harry cuddling in his lap. "Who died?"

James swallowed. "No one as far as I know."

"Do you need a day out?" Sirius asked as Harry reached for the green block to show Sirius.

"I won't be leaving this house anytime soon, Sirius," James admitted, clearing his throat. "Can we talk?"

"Since when have you ever asked me that question?" Sirius replied as he rested his cheek against Harry's unruly head.

James' insides twisted, nervous for reasons he couldn't comprehend. He had never been nervous to talk to anyone, let alone Sirius. They were so in sync and eerily similar that it was just easy between them. Except James understood this was a big ask, the biggest ask he could ever request from someone. If not for Harry, James wouldn't even think of going through with it.

"It's big," James whispered.

Harry shoved the block against Sirius' lips. When Sirius' mouth didn't open, Harry opened his mouth to demonstrate. Sirius opened his mouth just a tad and had a plastic block shoved between his lips. He winced, and James heard the plastic hitting a tooth hard. Sirius grabbed his wrist and gently pulled the block away from his mouth.

"Thanks, mate," Sirius said, a grin on his face. "Mmm, that was better than your blueberries."

Harry positively beamed as he toddled over to the fridge to see what else he could find to feed Sirius, no doubt. James leaned back against the sofa, his hands rubbing on his trousers. He wanted to cry at how pathetic he was that he wanted his dad to be sitting right next to him, to take control of the situation. James had been half in his mind to contact his godfather Fergus Belby and ask him to come back to England just for a small stretch of time to seek his guidance, but he didn't think Fergus would actually come or make him feel any better about things.

"Sirius, Dumbledore says it's time," James whispered, the words barely coming out. "He said we should cast the Fidelius Charm. With the Order dropping like flies, he fears it's only a matter of time before he finds us and breaks the wards and…"

Sirius frowned as he glanced over at Harry who was putting plastic food into a pot. "So, I know you said your location would be hidden with a person. Can you do it or… how does it work?"

James licked his bottom lip. "Dumbledore thinks the charm would be more powerful if the Secret Keeper doesn't live in the house. Granted, he said it's a fairly new charm and you're trying to conceal people in a house so it could be tricky. We're not hiding… it's the house that would hide. So, everything in the house is what is being hidden. He worries that if the Secret Keeper is constantly in the house that it may make the charm less effective. He worries that Voldemort may be able to break it or, well, be able to draw me out."

Sirius looked up. "I think he could figure out a way to draw you out even if you're not the Secret Keeper."

James' insides twisted. "Probably. I hate to ask this… but there's no one I trust more than you. There is no one that loves Harry as much as Lily and I, except for you. You're the only one I trust to keep him safe."

Sirius let out a small chuckle, his eyes never leaving Harry who had brought him a little pot filled with a bunch of random plastic food. "I don't trust myself to keep him safe."

"Sirius…"

"No, let me finish," Sirius said, heaving a sigh. "You know all about my family, James. You know about Bellatrix, about my parents, and my aunt and uncle. You know what they did."

James nodded, remembering very clearly being fifteen years old when Sirius showed up at his house over the Christmas holiday with no shoes and only a thin and ripped old robe. His hair had been disheveled and his face paler than the snow on the ground. Sirius had a dislocated thumb and a pair of magical handcuffs dangled from his right wrist. His family had practically tortured him, trying to break into his mind to manipulate his thoughts and probably much worse things that James couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"I do," James whispered.

Merlin, he knew. Sirius had disappeared for a good five hours into his father's study as the two of them talked while James helped his mother in the kitchen to make food before heading out to buy Sirius some clothes and supplies he would need. James had never known the full story except that Walburga and Orion Black were tired of Sirius disobeying them, bringing shame onto the family name, and refusing to join Lord Voldemort. They had decided they were going to make Sirius obey.

"They know me, James," Sirius replied as Harry leaned into his godfather's side. "They know how to break me. Bellatrix…" Sirius closed his eyes. "I can't be your Secret Keeper, James. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"There's just no one else I trust more," James said in a lame tone, his eyes locking onto Harry who seemed to have picked up on the odd shift in mood between them.

"You'd be dead if I'm your Secret Keeper," Sirius argued, his arm wrapping around Harry. "I'm the obvious choice. They would capture me and Bellatrix would break me. I have no doubt that she would."

James shook his head. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Sirius. You're stronger than you think."

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I spilled the secret… that I caused your deaths," Sirius reasoned. "You know Bellatrix is an accomplished and natural Legilimens."

"You're a natural Occlumens," James argued. "You said it yourself. It drove Walburga mad that she couldn't see your thoughts."

"No, she couldn't," Sirius admitted, his face growing pale. "But Bellatrix could. She… she saw things. I know she did. When I was tied up…" Sirius licked his bottom lip. "Look, it can't be me."

James didn't know what to say, his eyes only staring at Harry.

"What about Dumbledore?" Sirius asked.

James shook his head. "No."

Sirius frowned. "I thought he offered."

"He did, but… look, it doesn't matter," James replied with a sigh.

"I'm pretty sure Fleamont would say he should be Secret Keeper," Sirius said, his hand carding through Harry's unruly hair. "He was your dad's godfather, after all."

James sucked in a breath. Dumbledore had always been kind to him over the years, coming by the house often when James was young. It had been an awkward transition not to call him Albus once he attended Hogwarts. It was a habit he had even slipped up on as an adult. Everyone at school knew Dumbledore had a soft spot for James, but nobody really knew the extent of their familiarity except for the Marauders and later Lily once they started dating. It wasn't a connection that he advertised. James wasn't interested in allowing his family connections to help him in life. It was why he was so vehemently against joining the Slug Club while in school. He wasn't James to Slughorn, but rather James was a means for Slughorn to connect to some of the best potioneers in the wizarding world because his dad and godfather were so well-renowned around the world. He even wondered if Slughorn knew the Potters' connection to the Dumbledore family.

"He's not my godfather," James argued.

Sirius let out a chuckle. "Fuck, James, our lives are so different. You have Albus fucking Dumbledore willing to offer you protection because he was best mates with your grandfather Meanwhile, nobody in my family or who knows my family would even give a shit if I died tomorrow."

James picked at a string on his joggers, not saying anything.

Sirius sighed. "What about Fergus? He's out of the country half the time anyway."

James shrugged. "He'd trade the secret for a deal on potion ingredients. He's trying to track down some rare plant in New Zealand somewhere that he thinks he could be used to make some life-saving elixir. He's still upset with my dad and, by extension, me ever since my dad helped Damocles with the Wolfsbane Potion. Thinks my dad should have worked with him on it, so he could take the glory. Meanwhile, my dad only just advised Damocles, bounced around ideas with him."

Sirius snorted. "He's still upset about that? Fleamont was Damocles' godfather!"

James shrugged. "I don't understand it. They had a massive fight about it right before my dad got sick. Damocles doesn't really see his family anymore, as far as I know. He sent Harry a birthday gift and a letter saying he's up in Scotland now."

Sirius sighed, his head shaking. James could see the brooms flying around his head, trying to think of another Potter family connection that James could ask. There was no one, James knew that for sure.

"How about I'll be the decoy," Sirius thought out loud. "We'll tell everyone that I'm the Secret Keeper. We'll flaunt it. We'll draw them all close to me. Meanwhile, someone else will be the real Secret Keeper. When I'm captured, they'll have time to run as far the fuck away as possible."

James snapped his attention to Sirius. "Who?"

A beat passed.

"Peter," Sirius replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Nobody would suspect him. He'd be bloody perfect."

"Peter wouldn't last one Cruciatus Curse," James argued. "I love him, but the bloke wouldn't be able to take the torture."

"That's why we flaunt the fact that I'm the Secret Keeper," Sirius insisted. "Look, I reckon Peter would have a couple of days before I'm weak enough for Bellatrix to break my mind and realize I'm lying and offs me."

James shook his head. "No."

"James, come on. We both know I can't really be the Secret Keeper no matter how badly I wish I could," Sirius reiterated.

"You're not going to flaunt the fact that you're the fake fucking Secret Keeper and put a target on your bloody head!" James hissed.

Sirius' jaw clenched. Harry's lip trembled at the harsh tones between the two friends. Sirius rubbed his back, pulling him back on his lap.

"But I'll be the fake fucking Secret Keeper," Sirius stressed.

"Don't be smart, Sirius," James snapped, carding his hand through his hair.

Sirius sighed. "What other option do we have?"

James shook his head. This had been a mistake. This was way worse than he had ever imagined it to be.

"Your nonchalance about all of this is very concerning to me," James explained, his heart twisting painfully in his chest.

Sirius shrugged. "I don't see why."

"You should talk to someone about Marlene's death," James added. "This isn't healthy."

Sirius practically growled, a hand carding through his hair. "This isn't about Marlene."

"You just suggested putting a fucking sign above your head that practically says kill me now," James replied in a dry tone.

"Even if Marlene was alive, I'd say the same damn thing," Sirius argued.

James frowned. "It pains me that you have such little regard for yourself. I've been sick over even asking this of you."

Sirius licked his lips, his eyes wandering down to where Harry played with his fruit in his lap. "My life for yours? For Harry's? For Lily's? No contest, mate. Not even a fucking question in my mind." Sirius turned to James. "If Voldemort came bursting through this door right now, what would you do?"

James' heart beat harsh in his chest. "I'd fight him. I'd try to… to defeat him to protect my family. I'd want them to run in case things went wands up."

"Then why is it any different for me?" Sirius questioned. "You're my brother, James. Lily is my sister. Harry… fuck, James, I love that kid so much that it hurts. I'd do anything to protect him. He's so little and innocent and…" Sirius swallowed and sniffed. "He can't look out for himself. He only has us. I'll be damned if I let him down."

James nodded, appreciation and love souring through him for his best mate. "Fine, you can be the decoy. BUT, and this is a big fucking but, Sirius, you do not flaunt it. If Voldemort finds out that the Fidelius was cast, then we let him figure it out. We don't shout it to the rooftops. Maybe we can fool everyone and he'll think we'll never choose you because you are the obvious choice."

Sirius nodded. "There's a spy in the Order, though. It's going to get around the Order that we're using Peter as soon as we tell Dumbledore."

"No, because we're not telling Dumbledore," James argued.

"We're not?" Sirius asked, his brows furrowing. "Are you and Dumbledore having a row about something? You've always been very happy following his instructions to the letter."

James stilled at the comment. He stared at his best mate, trying to decide if Sirius knew about Dumbledore's asinine assumptions.

"I think it's best if no one knows. Less chance of it getting out, someone slipping up," James argued. "He tells Alastor everything, doesn't he?"

Sirius let out a bitter laugh. "Fuck Mad Eye."

James raised his eyebrows. "Care to share with the class?"

A low growl sounded in the back of Sirius' throat. "I had Mad Eye questioning me after Marlene's death and the last time I saw my family. I'm not a moron, James. I know they think I'm just like the rest of my family, an evil Black waiting in the shadows to strike. Same fucking story, different fucking day."

James' chest tightened at the words. He hated the Black family and he hated everyone who lumped Sirius in with them.

"Fuck them," James insisted. "None of them matter. Nobody's opinion of you fucking matters."

Sirius grinned. "Except for yours."

James matched the grin. "The only opinions that should matter to you are those that have the last name of Potter. Let me tell you, the three sole surviving Potters think the world of you."

Sirius let out a bark-like laugh. "You're such a sop, James."

"You love it."

Sirius shook his head, the smile still on his lips. "It's bloody annoying, is what it is."

James carded a hand through his hair, a chuckle escaping his lips. Harry giggled with them, his face lighting up as he looked between his two favorite wizards. He bounced in Sirius' lap, eager to join in on the shenanigans.

"What are you going to tell Peter?" Sirius asked, shattering the easiness that had finally settled between them.

"The truth," James replied, his mouth going dry. "He needs to know this isn't about me and being enemy number one or whatever tosh Dumbledore is telling the Order. He needs to know I would only ask this of him because it involves an innocent child."

"Well, I'd hope he'd want to do it regardless," Sirius argued. "Kid or no kid. You're our mate."

James winced. "I would never ask any of you to put your life on the line just for me." James cleared his throat, his gaze meeting Sirius'. "There's one more thing I have to ask you."

While it probably didn't need to be discussed between them, James wanted to make sure that Sirius was fine with his wishes. He and Lily had spent the last few evenings writing out their last will and testament just in case the worst were to happen.

Sirius stiffened. "Yeah?"

"It might take a few weeks to get everything situated with the Fidelius. Lily is meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow to go over the charm. She's going to perform it," James explained.
"But… Voldemort's been moving fast and knows we're hiding somewhere in Godric's Hollow. If he makes a move before we can cast the Fidelius and if somehow Harry survives…" James let out a long breath. "I need to know you'll take care of him. I need to know you'll raise him as your own and, and give him a good life and keep him safe. I need to know you'll treat him like your own son and you'll be the dad to him that I can't be."

"James…" Sirius trailed off.

"There's no one else, Sirius," James admitted, his tone miserable. "I have no other family. Lily's parents are dead and I hate the thought of Petty and Vermin taking care of him. You're the only one capable of loving him the way he deserves. You're the only one I trust to be… to be his dad if I can't."

Sirius stared at James, tears welling in his eyes. A stray tear slid down his cheeks. Sirius nodded, his head cocking to the side as he wiped a hand down his face.

"Of course," Sirius croaked. "I will protect Harry with my dying breath and love him like he was my own."

James nodded, feeling his own tears spring to his eyes. Letting out a long shuddering sigh, James just hoped they'd be able to cast the Fidelius before Voldemort made his move. The thought of Harry growing up without him hurt more than he could even fathom. James had been an adult when his dad had died, and it did nothing to ease the pain of the loss. He couldn't imagine a small child losing so much.

Peter wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to rip his skin apart. His eyes stared at the back of Marlene's head, her brown hair swishing as she walked. Almost as though she knew Peter was following her, she turned around with frantic and wide eyes looking all around her. Her eyes raked across Peter briefly before she moved on.

A slight weight lifted off his shoulders when she barely paid him any attention. Yet, at the same time, a tinge of annoyance shot through him like fire through his veins. He pushed down the emotion because he was silly to even think for one second that Bellatrix's spell work was anything less than perfect.

Peter closed the space between them, his shoulder brushing against hers. She squeaked like a scared little mouse, and Peter fought the urge to smile. He turned towards her, a hand touching her elbow.

"I'm so sorry," he said in a rush. "I was thinking and, well, clumsy me."

Marlene physically relaxed, her wide eyes softening. She even managed a tight smile.

"It's all right," she breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Did I, err, did I hurt you?" Peter asked, his voice hesitant. "You seem upset."

Marlene shook her head. "No, no, you didn't."

Peter nodded and held out his hand. "Peter. Peter Pettigrew."

Marlene accepted the hand. "Bella Riddle."

Peter licked his bottom lip, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Can I buy you a cup of tea as an apology?"

Marlene let out a little huff of air, her eyes narrowing at him to the point where Peter thought she recognized him. "I'm sorry. I have training today at work. I'm starting a new job."

Peter nodded. Another tick of relief flooding him. Bellatrix had her training as a Healer at some posh and exclusive for-profit hospital in Wiltshire where only the richest of wizards go for luxury hospital rooms and five-star cuisine. It was honestly appalling in Peter's mind but he supposed he would enjoy the privacy and luxury if he were a wealthy pureblood. It was somewhere she could work without worrying about Albus Dumbledore or anyone in the Order showing up all the while keeping an eye on her memory charms.

"Oh, congratulations," Peter said with a nod, his sleeve rubbing the sweat off his forehead once more.

Marlene smiled tightly. "I need to get going."

"Right," Peter mumbled as he stepped aside. "Sorry again!"

Marlene walked away from him. Peter gulped, wondering if he should follow her some more just to double check. He had been downright nervous with the way Bellatrix wanted to handle Marlene. Personally, he would have killed her with a quick Killing Curse and let her body burn to a crisp. There would be no worries of anyone seeing her or her regaining her memories. Best of all, there would be no wrath from Sirius to face when he inevitably found out what Bellatrix had done.

Peter made his way in the opposite direction of Marlene, his mind wandering to a crazed Sirius who would surely kill him if he ever found out he had been at the McKinnon Manor that night. Sirius didn't show forgiveness or mercy. Sirius wouldn't hesitate to murder him, and Peter knew Sirius would want to make it hurt. Peter knew he had to prepare for the worst in case Sirius found out. He needed a plan because it was only a matter of time before Bellatrix's brilliant cruelty was discovered.

Slipping into an alleyway out of sight, Peter Apparated to Godric's Hollow. James had contacted him the night before on the mirror, looking pale with large bags under his eyes. There was no glint in his hazel eyes, no laughter or mirth. There was just a seriousness that Peter couldn't ever recall seeing on his mate's face before. Peter didn't know why James wanted to see him, but he knew it must be bad.

He had been to Godric's Hollow plenty of times before. Fleamont and Euphemia had lived on the outskirts of town. Their wedding present to James and Lily had been the cottage closer to town with a promise of minding the grandchildren whenever they needed a night out in the village. As far as Peter knew, the Potters never got to make good on their promise. They had grown sick not long after Harry was born and died within a week of one another, before they ever saw the boy's first Christmas.

Sucking in a breath, Peter stepped into the wards of the cottage and made his way up the cobblestone walk. He rapped his knuckles on the door, before rubbing his hands on his trousers. The door opened a beat later.

James didn't greet Peter with his normal smile. He looked far too exhausted for his face muscles to even move. His unruly dark hair was longer and shaggier than Peter had ever seen it, a hint of gray splashed by his ears. Peter thought twenty-one was far too young to have a hint of gray.

"Hey, Wormtail," James greeted as he stepped aside. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."

Peter nodded as he stepped inside, his eyes not leaving the patch of gray. "You all right, Prongs?"

James forced a smile on his face, his fingers running through his long hair. "Yeah, just stressed."

"You, uh, you got a spot of gray," Peter pointed out as he touched his own hair above his ear.

James winced. "Yeah, the Potters have fucked up genetics when it comes to hair. Refuses to lie flat. Stress grows without a stop in sight. Prematurely grays. My dad started graying at fifteen, can you believe it?"

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?"

James nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, he used to get mocked for his name a lot. It stressed him out so he started taking private dueling lessons. Became grand champion by nineteen. Bloody powerful wizard. Pity he chose potions to focus on."

"Ruddy hair potions, no less!" Peter said in an enthusiastic tone, quoting James from when they were back at Hogwarts.

James laughed, not the normal kind of laugh that lit up his face but a restrained sort of one. "Ruddy hair potions indeed, Pete."

Peter's gut twisted when James clapped a hand on his shoulder. It was then that Peter noticed just how frail James looked. James had always been athletic with biceps that made the girls giggle as they tried to not so sneakily run their fingers along the lines when he was in a t-shirt or without a shirt during and after Quidditch practice. Now, instead of filling out his jumper like he had always done, the jumper swam on him. It was almost like he had lost all of his muscles and a considerable amount of weight.

"Can we talk, Pete?" James asked, his hazel eyes so lackluster that Peter was half convinced the man before him was not the same James he had grown up with.

"Is everything all right?" Peter squeaked.

James' lips drew in a thin line, his jaw clenching. "Not in the slightest, mate."

Peter just blinked, not knowing what else to do. He had not seen James in months, not since Marlene had died. James had not looked nearly as bad then as he did now. It seemed like in two months James had started to waste away to nothing.

"Is it…" Peter gulped. "Is it the, the bounty on your head? Dumbledore said You-Know-Who had marked you for death. Top of his list."

Peter knew that wasn't the truth, but he had become a rather good liar in the past year. Bellatrix had opened his horizons and he had learned so much from her.

James shook his head. "I bloody well wish, mate. I'd die a thousand times, the most gruesome death, just to have that be the reality instead of what is."

A shiver ran up Peter's spine. "What's wrong, Prongs?"

"I'm sure Lord Voldemort wants me dead," James began as Peter shuddered at the name of his Lord. "But I'm not enemy number one or whatever the bloody hell people are calling it. He wants Harry."

"Harry?" Peter whispered, his eyebrows raising as he tried his hardest to look surprised.

James only nodded, tears springing to his eyes. "My son, Wormtail. A little tiny baby." James sighed, his gaze glancing down at the floor. "There's a prophecy about Harry and Voldemort."

Peter perked up. The Dark Lord had wanted to know for over a year the full contents of the prophecy. He had been too nervous to bring it up to James and blow his cover. There was no easy way to start asking questions about prophecies without a segue.

"A prophecy?" Peter asked, sweat prickling his forehead. "About Harry? What does, what does it say?"

James shrugged. "The less you know, the better, I reckon."

Peter tried to keep his disappointment at bay. Bellatrix would have been delighted if he would have brought her the full contents of the prophecy.

"Pete, I have…" James licked his bottom lip, his gaze boring into Peter. "I'm just going to cut to the chase, because this has been weighing on my mind for a while. I have a really big favor to ask."

Peter's brows furrowed. "Yeah?"

"Dumbledore thinks it's wise if we go under the Fidelius Charm," James started.

Peter listened to what exactly the spell was, his body trembling because the Dark Lord would not be very happy when he hears that he would need to figure out, track down, and torture someone for the secret. The bright side was that Peter knew Sirius would take on the role of Secret Keeper without hesitation. James and Sirius were codependent and attached at the hip. There was no one else James would trust to keep Harry safe.

But then, James threw him off-kilter.

"Sirius thinks it best if he's the decoy," James spoke the words as though the thought made him physically ill.

"Decoy?" Peter repeated in a baffled tone.

Sirius Black trusted no one except for James Potter. The very notion that Sirius would not take on the responsibility of Secret Keeper made zero sense to Peter. Who in the world could Sirius think would be better than himself?

"Pete, I hate to ask this of you," James said in a rush, each word dripping with pain. "I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't for Harry. He's just a child. He doesn't deserve this."

Peter's heart beat harshly in his chest. There was no way that James was asking what Peter thought he was. Peter would be hailed as a hero… he could picture Bellatrix's face alight with pure joy.

"Will you be our Secret Keeper?" James' voice sliced through the air. "I'm so scared for my son. I've never been so scared before in my life. The four of us, the Marauders… we've been through so much together and it pains me to ask this of any of you. It-"

"Yes," Peter said without hesitation.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was on the side that would win. Peter let out a breath, his eyes raking over James and the man he had become. Lord Voldemort had stripped James bare. The once confident and happy-go-lucky wizard had turned scared and depressed, unraveling at the seams. It was jarring to see not only the stark contrast in appearance but also personality.

"Are you sure?" James confirmed.

Peter nodded. "You'd do it for any of our kids. No questions asked."

A smile crossed James' face that made him look a little like the old James. "I feel like thank you doesn't even begin to cover the sheer amount of gratitude I feel right now."

Peter felt a lump in his throat. "For you? Prongs, I'd do anything for you."

At one point in time, that statement had never rang truer. Except now… now James was weak and backed into an impossible corner. He just had to fight the Dark Lord, had to defy his offers to join, had to choose the wrong side, had to marry Lily Evans. If only James had joined the Dark Lord, he would have grown in power instead of crumbled to the ground. If only James had chosen a pureblood witch to marry, to continue the pure bloodline like Frank Longbottom and Alice Fawley had done, then everything would be fine.

But James had rebelled like centuries of Potters had done before him. The original blood traitors, the outcasts of the pureblood society. It had been the ultimate mark of shame for them to be excluded from the list of the sacred families. James had it so easy, the Potters had it so easy. They had fucked it all up. Peter wouldn't have defied tradition and been outcasted if he had been a pureblood.

James took a step forward, closing the space between them. Peter froze when James' arms wrapped around him, his hand clapping on Peter's back. The only thing he could do was to wrap his arms around James' waist, a smile tugging on his lips. There was no doubt in his mind that Bellatrix would finally see him as a worthy partner when he delivered the Potters' location on a silver platter.

James laid in bed. He could hear the music from Harry's room playing and soft murmurs as Lily sang him some Muggle lullaby to put him to bed. James just felt sick to his stomach, his mind couldn't stop thinking about what Peter and Sirius were going to do for his family. A scream crawled up his throat, his limbs twitching to destroy everything in sight. His shoulders shook as he stifled his sobs.

A pecking jerked James out of his misery. Turning his head, he saw Fawkes sitting outside of his window with a scroll in his beak. Rolling out of bed, James made his way across the room and opened up the glass to allow him entrance. Taking the parchment, James reached out and brushed his fingers down the bird's neck.

Fawkes stuck around and James could only assume that Dumbledore wanted a response to whatever he had sent. Biting back a groan, James flopped back onto his bed and unrolled the scroll to find two sheets of parchment. He concentrated on the first one with a short message.

Dear James,

I received correspondence from Lily that Sirius has accepted the role of Secret Keeper. I implore you to reconsider. It is not simply a matter of trust, but a matter of security. If Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters come for Sirius, I fear he will not be able to protect himself and he will become captured.

I only want the best for you and for your family. You have lost so many people the last few years, from your grandparents, to your parents, and now with the threat to your son. I promised your father that I would protect you, no matter the costs. I intend to make good on that promise.

You are a very bright and talented young man. I have been honored and proud to watch you grow from a rambunctious toddler to the brave man with a heart of gold you have become. It pains me that you have been forced into this impossible situation. I beg of you, James, allow me to be your Secret Keeper.

I am sorry for suggesting that Sirius could be anything less than trustworthy. I merely worry about what the Blacks would do to Sirius to force the secret out of him. So very little is known about the Fidelius Charm and what we do know may not function in the way we desire it to.

No matter what you decide, I will continue to support you. I know the bond of a best friend. Henry was an extraordinary man, and there is not a day that goes by that I do not miss my dearest friend. He loved you so very much. It pains me to know that he never had the opportunity to meet Harry. Henry would have simply adored his namesake.

Sincerely,

Albus

A lump formed in James' throat as he sat the letter down in his lap, his eyes gliding to the second sheet of parchment. A long breath escaped his lips when he recognized the handwriting of his father. His trembling fingers touched the parchment and he picked it up.

Dear Albus,

I am writing you to know that despite our best efforts of isolation, Euphemia has contracted Dragon Pox as well. We have reunited, willing to see how this all plays out together. I must say, I regret our latest holiday to the dragon reserve in Hungary. I do not think the dragon secretions are a suitable potion ingredient anymore. I was lost in the prospect of taking a highly toxic ingredient and turning it into a beneficial one. I believe my own arrogance may be my very demise. I am just happy that we did not break quarantine protocols when we arrived back in England. James was ever so anxious to see us, and now I only hope that I can have the chance to see him again.

I suppose I am writing to you, because I do not have a very positive outlook to how this will all end. I know given my heart condition that the pox will only increase my chances of a heart attack. My only wish is that Euphemia will be able to survive the disease. She is in far better health than I am. I daresay, the Potters have not had a lot of luck with their hearts. My father warned me before he died that I needed to take better care of my heart issues, but I was flippant about it as always. I have lived a long and good life. My only regret is that I will not see Harry grow into as fine of a young man as James has.

I must admit, my writing to you is out of pure selfish need. My very soul has shattered upon the news of the prophecy and I have felt helpless as I watch James become a shell of the person he was. My carefree son has become paralyzed with fear. I knew Euphemia and my trip to Hungary only exasperated his anxieties. Except, I had the idea that the dragon secretions could be compiled into a quick escape potion, one that could be drank and allow the drinker to travel in a swirl of flames, one that could bypass the anti-Apparition wards. I was only trying to save my family's life and provide them with a quick getaway. The idea was sparked by that article in The Wizards' Journal about the witch who took dragon scales to build a box that could make objects disappear and reappear in another similar box. Although, now that I think about it in my death bed, I think she may have been a fraud. Why would dragon scales actually matter? It must have been the enchantments and not actual material. I'd love to talk with her to find out, but alas I cannot.

I have gone on a tangent, but you know that I cannot help myself, Albus. My mind is always jumping from one idea to the next. James was always more methodical like Euphemia, luckily. I wonder who Harry would take after. Again, I digress. Perhaps, I am rambling in hopes that the words come easier as I write. I have only one request for you, one that I hope you will be able to fulfill although I am not naïve enough to believe that it is a guarantee.

I cannot protect my son. I cannot protect my grandson. My grand ideas of how to hide them and protect them has only ended in disease and near certainty of death. I must ask you to watch over James, Lily, and Harry. I must ask you to keep them safe, no matter the cost. They are so young. What is supposed to be the best time of their lives has been so cruelly ripped away from them. Please, Albus, let my boys grow old. Let Lily grow old. I need to know that even after I die, there will be someone left to look after them and protect them. I must also ask you to look after Sirius as well. He is such a lost soul, beaten down in the most horrific way possible by the worst human beings I have ever met in my life. I wish Walburga and Orion Black nothing but the most painful deaths known to wizard-kind. I must admit, I have thought about using the last of my strength to show up on their doorstep and wipe the pus from my pox all over them. Though, I suppose even Dragon Pox isn't enough suffering for those two. They deserve so much worse.

I love you, Albus. You have been there for us in every single way possible. I know that you will say that we have been there for you as well, but you have saved us in more ways than one. I am forever honored to have known you, to have you be a part of my family. I appreciate all that you've done for James and helping him find a direction and path in life that was more than what the next great prank would be. I hope you will be able to guide Harry in the same way you guided James, since I know I will be unable to.

This isn't goodbye. I truly do not believe that, for the last enemy that shall be defeated is death.

Love,

Fleamont

Tears poured down James' cheeks as he read the letter not once or even twice but three times. The ache in his chest for his father only grew, to have one last rambling conversation with him that took a grand twenty minutes just to cut to the chase. He bowed his head, wondering if he was going about the entire Secret Keeper situation wrong. Perhaps, if Fleamont were alive, he would tell him not to be smart and just to allow Dumbledore to be the keeper of the secret. Maybe it was a better chance of survival.

"James?"

Snapping his attention up, James saw a blurry Lily entering the bedroom. She held her dressing gown tightly around her body, her sparkling green eyes wide with concern. Nothing made a lot of sense to James in the past year. The one thing he did know was that Lily was his rock. He needed her guidance most of all.

"Are we doing the right thing?" James asked, his hazel eyes boring intensely into hers.

She brushed her long auburn hair behind her shoulder as she sat down in front of him on the bed. She offered him a brilliant smile, one that showed all of her pearly whites and lit up her face. Merlin, she was gorgeous. He still marveled from time to time over the fact that she had given him a shot to prove to her he was more than a prankster and looking for the next bit of fun.

"I hope so," she whispered.

James swallowed. "I feel like I'm drowning. Ever since Dumbledore told us about the prophecy, I feel like I haven't been able to breathe." James pointed to his chest, right where his heart was. "My heart aches all the time, because I brought a son into this world and I don't know how to protect him. My dad was…" James licked his lips. "He was my rock. He guided me. He protected me. He had all the answers to all of the questions that I sought. I know nothing. I am not a rock or a guider or, or anything but a scared and dumb kid. Harry is going to die because of me."

Lily shook her head, her hands fumbling for his. The letter dropped onto the bedsheets as her smooth fingers brushed against his. He allowed her warmth to wash over him.

"You are brave and smart and kind," Lily assured him, her hands squeezing his. "You are an amazing father who is patient and loving towards our son. This circumstance we find ourselves in, it has nothing to do with you. It is tragic and unavoidable but it is not your fault. There is no one that I would rather have by my side during this difficult time than you, because I know you would do anything to protect Harry and I."

James nodded. "I would. I would die in a heartbeat if there was a possibility that you and Harry could live a normal life."

"That, James, right there. That's why I fell in love with you. That's why I married you," Lily whispered, a watery smile crossing her features. "You love so fiercely. You would do literally anything for the people you love. That's so rare and special."

James blinked, his gaze falling to their joined hands. Lily scooted closer to him, her hands leaving his and causing an emptiness to fill his chest. She tossed the letters aside. Her fingers trailed along the long and jagged scar that ran from his chest down his stomach. James shivered under her touch, remembering the first time that James had defied Lord Voldemort. James had laughed in his face when Voldemort offered James power beyond his wildest dreams. Voldemort had brandished his wand through the air and sliced him open. He had nearly bled out on the ballroom floor in his parents' house.

"I just wish I could give Harry the childhood I had," James whispered. "We traveled the world. We were constantly going on adventures. I remember going with my dad to the potions facility. I remember attending so many parties. Not the stuffy pureblood ones that Sirius endured, but the fun ones that all the blood traitors threw where everyone was invited and there was music and entertainers. I remember exploring Hogwarts during the summer holidays as a little kid when my dad would stop by to visit with Dumbledore. My mum took me to the Ministry with her and did zero work on those days. I was always surrounded by people and there was always something to do. Now… now there is just this house. Harry hasn't done or seen anything."

"He will, James," Lily stressed. "He's just a baby. He won't remember this time. Right now, he doesn't care about any of that. He's happy with the unlimited cuddles and snuggles from his mum and dad. He's pleased when his dad sits with him all day in the parlor playing with him. He's excited when Sirius comes to visit. He's downright a little terror when Padfoot and Prongs come out to play with him. All that other stuff, all the adventures you want to take Harry on, that can come later when this entire nightmare is over with. I promise you. He will have adventures and he will be happy and he'll have such a strong bond with both of us because of this time in isolation."

Merlin, James hoped she was right. He couldn't help the dread that built in his chest. He didn't expect to live a long and full life. It wasn't just because the old Divination professor told him at thirteen that his palm was riddled with tragedy and an early demise. There was just a growing pressure that seemed like it was going to burst at any moment. When it did, he knew he wouldn't survive the blast.

Sirius took a long drag of his cigarette as he stood on the back deck of the Hollow. Harry sat near him on the ground, pushing and pulling a train while making noises that sounded nothing like a train whistle. Sirius scratched his bottom lip with his thumb nail as he watched Harry play, trying not to think about what was happening inside of the house behind him.

Lily felt confident enough to perform the Fidelius Charm and had asked Sirius to wait outside with Harry. That was fine with him. He didn't want to be anywhere near the spell casting, worrying that somehow he would possess the secret and ruin the entire damn thing. Sirius took one last drag on the cigarette before he tossed it on the ground and stomped the ball of his boot on it.

Sirius squinted at the floor of the deck, watching as it rippled. The grass seemed to grow through the wooden boards, surrounding him. Harry let out a loud wail as he scrambled to stand up. He stomped his feet, his face turning towards Sirius. It only took Sirius four strides to reach Harry, scooping the little boy up in his arms as the back deck to the Hollow had been engulfed by grass. Whipping around, Sirius turned to see… nothing. The cottage was gone.

Harry continued to cry, big dragon tears sliding down his cheeks. "Mama! Mama!"

"Shh, it's all right," Sirius murmured, rubbing Harry's back as he cuddled the boy close to his chest.

Then, out of thin air, Peter appeared. "Did it work?"

Sirius blinked at him for a few moments. "Well, yeah, we can't see the fucking house!"

Peter looked please. "Perfect!"

Sirius only scowled. "Do you want to tell us the fucking secret or what?"

"Oh! Yeah, sorry," Peter mumbled, his cheeks reddening. "The Potters can be found at Number 7 Crested View Drive in Godric's Hollow… in Herefordshire… that's in England. Do I need to say all that?"

The Hollow appeared before Sirius, like it had appeared in a puff of smoke. Slowly but surely, it became solid. Harry quieted down in Sirius' arms, his thumb sliding into his mouth in a habit long forgotten.

Sirius swallowed. "That was enough. I see it again."

Peter let out a sigh. "Brilliant. It wasn't too horrible. Lily did most of the work. I just sort of stood there. James paced. He doesn't seem like he's doing too well."

Sirius glowered at Peter. "How'd you think you'd be doing if your son was being hunted by a ruddy psychopath and you had to live in hiding for the foreseeable future and live in constant fear?"

Peter shut his mouth, turning even more red. Sirius didn't say anything else. He didn't have the patience to deal with Peter's questions. He brushed past his friend and entered the kitchen of the cottage to see Lily and James standing by the island.

"Mama!" Harry squealed as he wiggled in Sirius' arms. "Mamamamama!"

Sirius placed Harry down on his feet. The little boy scampered across the room. He held his arms up as soon as he reached Lily and she bent down to pick him up off the floor. He snuggled against her chest and started to play with a lock of auburn hair.

Snapping his attention to James, Sirius knew what Peter meant. Sirius had noticed it starting a good six months ago when the stress and depression had started to consume James with his too-long hair and permanent five o'clock shadow. Now, Sirius could see the hints of gray above his ears and the way his beard had grown thick on his face. He saw it in his friend's gradual weight loss, the way his eyes had lost their sparkle in the past few months. James looked older than twenty-one, like he had aged a good fifteen years when in reality it had only been one.

"It worked," Sirius announced. "We couldn't see the house. Harry had a meltdown."

James nodded, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. The back door creaked and Sirius didn't need to turn around to know that Peter had entered the house.

"We tell no one," James announced, his gaze never leaving the ceiling. "We don't tell Remus who the Secret Keeper is. We don't tell Dumbledore. We tell not a soul. Let them assume what they want to assume."

Sirius pursed his lips.

James dropped his gaze to Sirius. "We don't fucking make it public that you're the Secret Keeper. Do you understand me, Sirius? We don't need to flaunt the Fidelius, or that you own the secret, to draw attention away from Peter. It could take months for Voldemort to even realize what we've done. The only person outside of this house that even know the Fidelius was cast is Dumbledore."

"James," Peter piped in a small voice. "Why aren't we telling Dumbledore that I'm the Secret Keeper?"

James' gaze flickered to Peter. It had been a question that Sirius had wanted to know as well. Albus Dumbledore and Henry Potter had been best friends since they were both in nappies, both in Gryffindor with grand ideas of what the world should look like. Sirius could remember attending Henry Potter's funeral at seventeen, watched as Dumbledore had shed a tear for his old friend and had hugged Fleamont. The Dumbledores and Potters had been linked for centuries, the two families close, having both settled in Godric's Hollow long ago.

"I have my reasons," James replied, his body tense.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at his friend. James had always been very vocal about his support of Dumbledore, hadn't hesitated to join the Order of the Phoenix when asked. James had been practically giddy at the prospect as his parents had been members for a few years prior when the killings had started and the words 'Lord Voldemort' were spoken in hushed whispered.

"Just spit it out," Sirius demanded. "What the bloody hell could he have done? He's been hiding you for over a year. He's been way more cautious with you than he has with the Longbottoms. They didn't go into hiding nearly as early as you did. Dumbledore has always been thicker than thieves with your family."

James blinked. Sirius just raised his eyebrows, challenging him.

"He believes you're the traitor, Sirius," James said in a monotone voice. "He has been asking me about your whereabouts. He tried to convince me not to make you our Secret Keeper. He questioned your loyalty."

Sirius froze at the words, every single muscle in his body tightening. He didn't know why he was so surprised to hear it. He had suspected it ever since Mad Eye's interrogation at Merrick's home in July. Part of him was hoping he was just being a moody and grumpy git. He wanted to have just been paranoid, because hadn't he proven himself yet? He had risked his life, had lost the love of his life, all for Dumbledore's little Order and this was how he was being viewed? Why? Because he was a Black?

"Nobody questions my brother's loyalty," James said in a dangerously low voice.

It struck Sirius like a Bludger to the head, confirming what he had suspected since he was only sixteen years old and shivering outside of the Potter Manor in the dead of winter. The Potters were his true family, the only ones that mattered and the only ones he trusted completely. They were the only people to never look down at him, question him, hate him for sharing the same last name as a bunch of sociopaths. They had taken him in without reservations or even a thought. They had unofficially adopted him. Sirius had never been more grateful for a group of people than he was for the Potters with their hearts of gold.

The other thing Sirius knew. He was fucking done. Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix could kiss his fucking arse.

Remus sat on his sofa, a bottle of whisky in his hand as he stared up at the cracked and yellowing ceiling. Merlin, he lived in a fucking dump. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried not to think about Dorcas or the fact that he had skipped her funeral. Out of all the funerals that he had attended in the past couple of months, he had chosen not to go to hers… to say goodbye. He fucking hated himself for being weak and pathetic.

A knock on the door drew Remus out of his self-pity. Heaving a sigh, he stood up from the sofa and sat the half-empty bottle of whisky on the end table. Carding a hand through his hair, he stumbled towards the door. Wrenching it open, Remus wasn't even surprised to see Dumbledore standing there with his three-piece suit and fedora. Remus couldn't help but wonder if he had any other Muggle clothing.

"May we talk?" Dumbledore asked.

Remus stepped aside to let Dumbledore into his home without a word.

"The Potters have gone under the Fidelius Charm," Dumbledore said as he launched into a very brief description of how it all worked.

Remus stood numb as he listened. Nobody had told him anything. Not James, not Lily, not Peter. His heart dropped to the floor. None of his friends trusted him any longer.

"Sirius has been made Secret Keeper," Dumbledore finished.

Remus shook his head. "I don't think that's the wisest idea."

Dumbledore nodded. "I quite agree, but there is nothing that can be done. They performed the charm yesterday afternoon. What's done is done."

"Why are you telling me this?" Remus asked, his hands shoving into his trouser pockets as the bottle of whisky called to him.

"I want you to join Fenrir Greyback's pack," Dumbledore replied. "Excuse my bluntness, Remus, but I know you would rather me cut to the chase."

Remus' legs trembled underneath his weight. "Join Greyback?"

Dumbledore's brows furrowed underneath his glasses. "It is important that we accelerate our plans. You have swayed all the wolves you could from the pack. Now, it is time to join Greyback. We need to know about any whispers of the Potters. We need to prepare ourselves if any group hears anything or is asked to attack the Potters. My spy does not have anything to do with Greyback's or any of the other packs that follow Lord Voldemort. I fear that Greyback is the closest out of all the wolves with Lord Voldemort. I have heard Lord Voldemort appreciates Greyback's viciousness."

Remus shook his head. He did not want to join Greyback's pack. He didn't think he could stomach it. It was one thing to talk to wolves who were bullied into joining Greyback's pack, ones who were scared and lost. It was another thing entirely to pretend that he actually revered Greyback in order to become close with him.

"I can't," Remus croaked. "This… it's too much."

Dumbledore nodded. "I thought you may say that. I understand, Remus. Truly, I do. I have asked so much of you these past few years. Being a spy is not easy. It is dangerous and you are often forced to do things you would not wish to do. I will figure something else out. Thank you, Remus, for everything."

Dumbledore inclined his head towards Remus before he made his way to the door. Remus' heart beat harsh in his chest. He couldn't help but wonder how the spy in Voldemort's inner circle was able to do it. The thought of pretending to like someone who made him physically ill seemed impossible.

"Who's the spy that you have in Voldemort's inner circle?" Remus asked, turning around slowly. "How do they do what they do?"

Dumbledore paused, his back stiff. Remus rubbed his chin, not expecting Dumbledore to actually answer. Heaving a sigh, Dumbledore turned around.

"Severus Snape," Dumbledore said in an even tone.

Remus narrowed his eyes, not expecting that answer. "Snape? What…? Why?"

"Severus still cares very deeply for Lily Potter," Dumbledore explained. "It pains him to know Lord Voldemort is searching for her."

For her.

Snape only cared about what happened to Lily. If James had married any other woman and had any other child being hunted, Snape would not care in the slightest. He probably would be waiting anxiously for them to die. Remus only scoffed.

"He is trying to make up for past mistakes, Remus, that's how he does what he does," Dumbledore explained. "I know Greyback revolts you. Rightly so. But you could bring upon his downfall and save countless lives in the process. That thought is the only way you'll be able to infiltrate his inner circle and stomach the very thought of being kind to him."

Remus nodded, a pounding rushing in his ears. "Do they know? James and Lily? About Snape?"

Dumbledore merely smiled. "No, they do not. I daresay, even after all these years, James would not take kindly nor believe any information that comes from Severus. Some dislikes are far too great to overcome."

"He doesn't know who the spy in the Order is?" Remus asked.

"I am afraid not," Dumbledore replied, his shoulders sagging. "All he knows is that the spy keeps close to Bellatrix. She's training them. They are close to the Potters. It has been bragged about how she snagged a close friend of theirs."

"Sirius," Remus whispered, an irrational rage filling him. "You think Voldemort will attack them soon then?"

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes sad. "I would not be surprised if an attack on Godric's Hollow happens within days or weeks. I shudder to think of how wide-scale the attack could be. It is why I call upon you to position yourself. I need as many ears as possible to catch whiff of an attack."

"You think the attack will take place during the November full moon?" Remus clarified, his body stiff.

"If Lord Voldemort is planning a full-scale attack, he may plan it for that date," Dumbledore confirmed. "It is vital that we gather as much information as possible."

"You think it'll be a full-scale attack?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know, Remus. I worry that Lord Voldemort may try to make an example out of James. Then again, he may just want to… get James out of the way and not have a big show about it. Lord Voldemort's actions puzzle me, I must admit. There are times when he is subtle, calculated. There are times, when in great rage, that he feels being quite loud and vicious is more appropriate. I know how much the Potters have upset him."

Remus froze at the words, picturing James being dragged out of his home and put on display to be tortured. Blinking, Remus tried to push the images out of his mind. He didn't know if he could stomach the very thought of it.

"I do not mean to upset you, Remus, but the actions of a madman are never easily discernable," Dumbledore continued. "It is best to be prepared for all possible outcomes."

Remus nodded, a long breath escaping his lips. "I'll do it. I'll join Greyback's pack and try to figure out if they know anything."

Dumbledore smiled tightly at Remus, but he didn't feel the effects. It was the twenty-eighth of October, so Remus didn't really have a lot of time to gain Greyback's trust and figure out if they were going to be involved in an attack during the November full moon. Remus would be damned if he didn't try.

James swirled his wrist, multicolored puffs of smoke escaping the tip of his wand. Harry clapped his hands, a string of babbles escaping his lips as the red and gold of Gryffindor danced towards the ceiling. James smiled at Harry's excitement, remembering back to when his own dad made smoke dance for him growing up. James had always been enchanted by the smoke that wafted up from Fleamont's cauldrons so his father often put on smoke shows for him away from dangerous potions.

A lump formed in his throat at the thought of his father, as that always seemed to happen anytime James thought of his late father. Fleamont had been the kindest wizard James had ever known. The thought of Harry not knowing his grandfather made his heart ache. His parents had been enthralled by their tiny little grandson with the classic untidy Potter hair and his bright green eyes. Sadly, Harry wouldn't remember the first four months of his life when he knew his grandparents.

Harry giggled as he tried to catch the smoke, but it only slipped through his fingertips. Somehow, that made him cackle all the louder as his body swayed to the side. He kicked his feet in his blue sleep suit that had arrows embossed on it for the Appleby Arrows. Sirius thought it funny to buy his godson the pajamas of James' most hated team. They had quickly become Harry's favorite pajamas as they were impossibly soft.

"James?" Lily called.

"In the parlor!" James replied back, the smoke shifting into a matching baby blue for the Arrows.

Harry bucked his entire body, a grin so wide that all of his eight teeth showed. James let out a low chuckle. He supposed a good Quidditch rivalry between father and son wouldn't be so bad… as long as the Falcons dominated.

Lily entered the parlor, her hair hanging around her face and slightly wavy. She had just gotten out of the shower and only dried her hair enough that it wasn't dripping wet. James' eyes raked along her body and his lips quirked up at the sight of her nightdress and satin dressing gown.

"Are you trying to seduce me while the baby is awake?" James asked, his eyebrows wiggling.

Lily rolled her eyes. "That comes after Harry's put to bed if you play your cards right."

James nodded, his lips pursing. "I think we have some leftover treacle tart and elf-made wine. I could definitely wine and dine you first."

Lily laughed, her hand flicking back her hair behind her shoulder. "Let me put Harry to bed first and you can prepare our night."

James grinned as he scooped Harry up in his arms and handed him to Lily. Harry snuggled instantly against Lily's chest, his fingers playing with her long auburn hair. James tossed his wand onto the sofa and stretched.

"You seem…" Lily trailed off, her face pinching.

"Happy?" James supplied.

Lily shot him an apologetic smile. "More… at ease than you have been the past couple of weeks."

James stretched his neck. "Just trying to put things in perspective."

Lily could be dead like Marlene and he could be devastated like Sirius. Harry could have been killed in the womb like Matthew McKinnon's unborn child. They could be scared and petrified, living without any wards and special charms and just waiting for death to knock on their door. James forced a smile on his face. They were safe under the Fidelius. He just had to look at that as a positive and not a negative. What was one more layer of isolation? He needed to grow used to it.

Then, there was a bang.

James felt his heart still in his chest and his veins turn to ice. James bolted to check to see what had happened. When he skidded into the entryway, his worst fear stood before him.

In a devastating second, James realized that Peter had betrayed them. Peter had given their location. Peter was the reason his baby boy would die. It had been less than a week under the Fidelius. Now his son and wife would die.

Peter was the traitor.

Peter was the backstabber.

That seemed nearly impossible to even comprehend, but it was a reality as Lord Voldemort stood before him with his wand out. There was no other explanation.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" James shouted.

He didn't care about himself. He would gladly give his life for his family. His stomach dropped when he realized he didn't have his wand. He had been too comfortable, too secure. James' chest heaved and the only thing he could think of was that he'd never see Harry or Lily again.

Lord Voldemort laughed. "Avada Kedavra!"

Green hurled towards him, illuminating the entire room. Then, there was nothing.

Something didn't sit right with Sirius. He couldn't help the nagging that tugged at his brain as his mind wandered most nights to Peter instead of succumbing to sleep. After casting the Fidelius Charm, Peter seemed too calm about everything. Peter had never been calm, always asking a billion questions and fretting into the wee hours of the night. Except, there had been nothing but a smug satisfaction about him while James and Sirius shot each other worried glances.

Sirius checked on him nightly, for lack of anything else better to do. He wanted to make sure Peter was fine, which would probably have to cease soon because it would only be suspicious that anti-social Sirius Black suddenly made nightly trips to Peter and Mary's flat. But he couldn't help the feeling of uneasiness in his chest, like he had missed something. A large part of him wished that he had become Secret Keeper and had fled the country.

When Sirius checked on Peter on Halloween, he frowned when a sobbing Mary answered the door clutching a robe to her chest. Sirius couldn't help the sinking feeling that filled his chest. Peter had been captured. It was the only explanation.

"Mary, is, err, is Peter here?" Sirius asked.

Mary shook her head, a loud sob escaping her mouth as she thrust the robes at him. Sirius blinked as he looked down at them, not seeing why she was so upset until he saw it. A red lipstick stain on the collar, blood red and terrifyingly familiar. How many times had Sirius seen Bellatrix with her blood red lips, the way her teeth shone brightly in contrast to the dark red? He was projecting, he knew that. There was no way that the lipstick on Peter's collar was from Bellatrix… except, he couldn't think of who else would wear such a ghastly shade.

"I knew it," Mary sobbed. "He's been cheating for months."

Sirius blinked at her, wincing. "Mary…"

"He's always gone, says he's on Order missions but they're never brought up in meetings," Mary continued. "He comes home smelling like perfume and he's been burning clothes. He's wearing robes more than his trousers and t-shirts, which Peter hates wearing robes. Why is he wearing robes more? He's found a new witch."

Sirius dropped the robe, a ringing sounding in his ears. He thought of the picture of the Marauders, the one where Marlene had circled Peter's and Remus' heads with the word backstabber written in her blood. Sirius had wanted to die, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Peter was the spy… the traitor… the backstabber. Sirius felt like he had fallen into a deep pit, unable to breath. He fled, without a word to Mary.

No.

He had to be wrong. Peter? There was no way that Peter was the spy. But Peter was the Secret Keeper. And… Sirius swallowed. He needed to clear his head. He couldn't very well go to James and spew his suspicions to him. James would roll his eyes, sigh, and say that he was being paranoid. Hadn't Sirius spent the last six months or more trying to convince James that Remus was the spy? He needed more.

Sirius hopped on his motorbike. A nice fly would clear his mind as he worked out what he was going to tell James. He needed clear facts, to have a productive discussion. They needed to dissolve the Fidelius Charm immediately and recast it with Sirius as Secret Keeper. He was a fool, a bloody moron. They would recast the charm and then Sirius would head to his Uncle Alphard's flat in Nantes, France that he inherited. It pained him not to know the next time he'd see the Potters, but he had been a fool. He never should have suggested Peter. What was wrong with him?

When he made it to Godric's Hollow, all the air left Sirius' lungs, like he had been kicked in the chest and left to die. He couldn't breathe, couldn't see straight, couldn't even think. A large coil of smoke filled the air near town, near where the Hollow was located. Sirius increased his speed, his entire body trembling when the Hollow came into view. The roof had been blasted off the cottage and the front door was blown off the hinges.

Sirius crashed the bike into the front garden, surprising himself that he hadn't broken a limb when the bike tumbled on its side upon landing. Sirius stumbled to his feet, a ringing sounding in his ears as he staggered towards the front door as though being led by some invisible force as he prepared himself for the worst.

Upon entering the Hollow, Sirius saw James first, his body too still and eyes too glassy. Sirius fell to his knees, ignoring the pain as they hit the hardwood floors. Gasping for breath, his vision blurry, Sirius reached out a trembling hand and pressed his fingers into James' neck. When nothing pulsed beneath his fingertips, he only dug them in deeper and more desperately.

He was drowning, his lungs forgetting how to breathe as he was pulled deeper and deeper into a dark abyss. Sirius' hands fumbled to grab James' shirt and shake him because it wasn't fucking funny. How dare James just lay there? How dare he not move? A strangled sob escaped Sirius' lips.

It couldn't be real.

This was not happening.

Sirius loosened his grip on James' shirt, his body sagging against the floor. Bile rose in Sirius' throat as he blinked away the tears so he could see more clearly. His left hand shook as he reached into his pocket for his wand. He pressed the tip onto his right forearm, his chest heaving as he sent a spark of fire into his skin. It burned but Sirius refused to lift the spell. He wanted to wake up. He needed to wake up.

He screamed, his voice not sounding like his own. He had been a fool. Peter had been the spy all along. Little pathetic mousy Peter. Sirius would fucking murder him with his bare hands. Peter had betrayed them all. He had betrayed Marlene, Dorcas, Lily, James, and…

Sirius shuddered. He lifted his wand off his arm and stared at the angry round burn mark he had inflicted upon himself.

Harry.

Harry.

His beloved godson. His darling fifteen-month-old godson… so full of smiles and an infectious cackling laugh. Sirius didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't want to be alive. He would kill Peter and then off himself. He had lost everyone he cared about. What was the point of living?

A bang from upstairs had Sirius whipping his head towards the stairs. Standing up on shaky legs, Sirius stepped over James' body. A familiar cry in the distance made Sirius' heart stop. Sirius darted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"HARRY!" Sirius screamed. "HARRY!"

Rounding the corner, Sirius watched as Hagrid exited Harry's nursery with a small bundle in his arms. Tear tracks stained Harry's face and blood smeared across his forehead and leaked down his cheek. When he saw Sirius, his tear-filled green eyes lit up.

"Ssss! Sssss!" Harry hissed, his body wiggling in Hagrid's arms as he reached out for Sirius.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed as he closed the space between them and he reached out for his godson.

Hagrid eased the crying toddler into Sirius' arms. Sirius hugged Harry to his chest, his arms crushing his godson against him. Harry's little fingers curled around the leather of his jacket, his body melting against his. How had Harry managed to survive?

Sirius' fingers tangled in Harry's hair. The little huffs of breath against Sirius' neck were reassuring and allowed him to breathe for the first time since he had entered the house.

"Harry, are you all right?" Sirius gasped out as he reluctantly pulled his godson away from his chest so he could see where the blood was coming from.

"Yeh shaking Sirius," Hagrid commented. "He's all right. Just a scratch on his head."

Harry blinked up at Sirius. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Sirius wiped his hand across Harry's forehead to get rid of the blood. From his hairline to the corner of his eyebrow was a bright red cut in the shape of a lightning bolt. Sirius had never seen anything like it. After wiping his hand on his shirt, Sirius traced the cut on Harry's forehead with his finger.

"Dumbledore was alerted that the wards fell from the house," Hagrid explained. "Nothin' was left. He sent me to get little Harry."

Harry's hands touched either side of Sirius' face. Sirius tried to smile at him, to tell him everything was all right now that he was here, but Sirius couldn't get his face to cooperate. The only thing that Sirius could think about was that Peter had betrayed Harry… Peter knew about the prophecy… and Sirius didn't know how much of the prophecy James had told him. Peter was a threat to Harry.

"Dumbledore asked me ter take 'im to his aunt an' uncle's," Hagrid announced.

"What?" Sirius asked, his attention snapping up to look at Hagrid. "His aunt and uncle? The Muggles? Is Lily…" Sirius couldn't even get the words out.

Hagrid nodded, a stray tear running down into his whiskers. "She… yeah. Best place fer Harry is his aunt an' uncle's."

"I'm his godfather," Sirius protested, his gaze looking down to see Harry had snuggled back against his chest. "He should be with me."

"I reckon he should, Sirius, but Dumbledore gave me orders," Hagrid replied as he wiped his own tears from under his eyes. "I bet Dumbledore just wants him out of here, somewhere safe. Then he probably'll have yeh take him."

Sirius' heart twisted as Harry's breathing evened out and the little boy fell fast asleep against him. His mind raced. He didn't want to leave Harry, not after what had happened but… Sirius kept thinking about Peter and what Peter knew. Peter could harm Harry with only knowledge and that didn't sit well with him. If Sirius' suspicions were right, if Peter had been fraternizing with Bellatrix, there was no bounds of cruelty that could be inflicted upon Harry.

"Lily an' James," Hagrid lamented, sniffing. "No two finer people. Damn shame, Sirius. Don't yeh go in that room. Lily… she…"

Sirius closed his eyes, not even wanting to picture Lily in the same state as James. Sirius let out a long sigh before he looked up at Hagrid. Tears poured freely down his face.

"I need ter get him out of here," Hagrid said. "His aunt an' uncle are in Little Whinging. Place on Privet Drive. Dumbledore just wants ter get yeh set up with protection firs' before Harry comes with yeh. Yeh understand, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm… I'm sure."

Hagrid reached for Harry but Sirius couldn't hand him over. He knew he should just turn and run with Harry, get him out of the country and live a life away from England. Another part of him knew that they would always be on the run with Death Eaters still lurking about. Peter… Merlin, Peter was still out there.

"He needs ter get somewhere safe," Hagrid pressed. "Sirius, are yeh listenin' ter me? Yeh as white as a ghost."

Sirius blinked. Hagrid was right. Godric's Hollow wasn't safe anymore. He mentioned the wards had fallen? Sirius raked his eyes over Hagrid. How had the Fidelius broken? Had it been the blast from whatever spell had torn the roof off the house? None of it made any sense.

"Sirius!" Hagrid pressed. "Give him ter me before yeh drop him!"

Sirius' mouth felt like the dessert. "Get him… get him somewhere safe. Take my motorbike. It's outside. Get him to safety as fast as you can."

"Yeh motorbike? Yeh sure?" Hagrid gasped.

Sirius nodded as he slowly pried his godson from his chest. "I won't be needing it."

Harry settled in Hagrid's arm with a loud groan. Sirius looked down at his white t-shirt to see blood staining it. Harry's blood was everywhere. Sirius gulped and wiped his hands on his trousers so he wouldn't see the blood stained on his hands.

Stirring awake, Harry started to cry once more. A lump formed in Sirius' throat. He couldn't stand it for a second longer. He'd dispose of Peter for Harry's safety and then he would go to him. Merlin, maybe they could leave the country, maybe Dumbledore would cast the Fidelius on a different house for just the two of them. Nothing mattered anymore except keeping Harry safe.

"Go, please," Sirius managed to gasp out.

Sirius couldn't watch as Hagrid left with Harry. His eyes screwed shut as he listened to his godson's frantic wails, no doubt crying for him, for his mum, for his dad. Gripping his hair, Sirius tried to regulate his breathing and prepare for what needed to be done.

I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! Sorry for the delay in posting. I've been severely demotivated in my writing due to lack of reviews and just general trolls trying to dampen my creativity. So, please, take the extra minute to drop a review. Reviews motivate me, inspire me, and just plain make my day. I will respond to reviews from last chapter later today and tomorrow. I wanted to get the chapter up as quickly as I could for you.

Special thanks to Bell for being an awesome editor. She's fabulous.