"Backstabber"
"Sirius Black"
NOVEMBER 1981
Sirius couldn't breathe, his chest so tight that he thought the oxygen would be cut off at any moment. He had no idea where Peter would even go, certainly not back to his flat with Mary. Had he gone to Dumbledore and already started spewing lies? Had he been stupid enough to seek out Voldemort's followers? There was no way he would receive a warm welcome with their master dead. Sirius knew the only way he'd find Peter was through the use of magic. He just needed a bit of Peter and he could pound his ugly mug into the pavement.
When Sirius arrived at Peter's flat early in the morning on the first of November, he blasted the door off the hinges. He didn't care. In fact, Sirius was very acutely aware that he didn't care about anything anymore. Killing Peter before he could tell anyone else about Harry and the prophecy was the only thing that fucking mattered.
Luckily, Mary wasn't home. It made everything easier that way. He marched towards the back of the flat where he knew the bedroom was. He looked around the room, trying to figure out what the best personal object would be for scrying. He had barely paid attention in seventh year Divination during the scrying lesson. He and James took it as essentially a doss subject, an easy O. Sirius paused, a lump forming in his throat. He couldn't think of James right now. He had to think of Harry and protecting Harry.
Blinking, his teary eyes scanned the room. A dirty t-shirt of Peter's lay on the floor. Sirius crouched down and grabbed it, stuffing it into the pocket of his leather jacket before he headed out. He'd need to go to Arcadia Avenue for the scrying crystal. Scrying was a lost artform and only a pretentiously posh shopping village would even carry them.
Sirius made his way to Knightsbridge with a purpose. He wanted in and out, to buy the crystal and to find Peter. The crystal was more expensive than a fucking Pensieve, but Sirius gladly tossed the Galleons onto the counter. He snatched the bag with the crystal and map, exiting the small shop and sitting down outside of a tea shop next door. He shivered in his leather jacket as people gave him odd looks as they passed him. Sirius didn't care as he wrapped the rope attached to the crystal around the dirty t-shirt. Holding the knotted shirt, he watched as the crystal moved around the map in slow circles.
When the crystal stopped on London, Sirius tapped the tip of his wand to expand the map. Again, the crystal started to move until it stopped on Shaftsbury Avenue. Running his finger along the road, he tried to pinpoint where to Apparate. He'd love to appear right in front of Peter and scare the living shit out of him. Standing up, Sirius abandoned the map and crystal on the table. He Apparated without a second thought and reappeared on the pavement. Muggles screamed around him, stumbling away from the man who appeared out of thin air. Sirius saw Peter not far ahead of him, his face losing all of its color in a matter of seconds. Sirius strolled forward, his grip tightening around his wand at his side.
"S-Sirius!" Peter squeaked as he stood rooted in his spot.
Sirius' breath hitched. Clenching his jaw, he thought about how to make Peter suffer for what he did to James, Lily, and especially Harry.
"How could you?" Sirius hissed in a low voice, his body vibrating with anger. "What the fuck did James ever do to you? Or Harry! Fuck, Peter, Harry's only a year old!"
Peter's eyes darted around. Most of the Muggles had disappeared. Others stood and gaped at them. One woman dug around in her bag. Sirius raised his left arm, the limb trembling as a growl sounded in his throat. Peter's eyes snapped to the wand, his lips twitching.
"Lily and James, Sirius?" Peter shouted at the top of his lungs as he took a step back. "How could you?"
Sirius froze at the words, his brows furrowing. What was Peter playing at? Peter reached into his jacket pocket and produced his own wand.
"Why did you murder them, Sirius?" Peter shouted. "Harry was just a baby!"
Sirius' arm dropped just a smidge, his eyes narrowing. Licking his lips, Sirius decided he needed to rid of Peter now. He didn't understand the game Peter was playing and that didn't really matter. Harry's life was risk. Sirius' lips parted, a curse on the tip of his tongue as he aimed his wand at Peter's chest.
"Confringo!" Peter bellowed, his wand moving in a zig-zag as a fiery orange spark shot from the tip of his wand.
The road beside them exploded, bits of asphalt raining down upon them. Sirius dove to the ground, his arms protecting his head from the debris and a tire that flew overhead. Screams rang in his ears. Chaos ensued around him. He peered up to see Peter standing in front of him, his lip quivering. His wide eyes stared at Sirius. Peter pointed his wand at his hand.
"Diffendo!" Peter cried, his severed finger falling to the ground.
Sirius let out a chuckle, his head shaking at what Peter had done. Scrambling to his feet, his wand in hand, Sirius felt numb. Sirius just stared at Peter, really fucking confused by what Peter was attempting to accomplish because he wasn't that smart. In a flash, Peter was gone and Wormtail appeared. The rat dashed towards the street. Sirius' laughter became almost manic and uncontrollable, he couldn't help himself. He pointed his wand at the rat, his eyes narrowing, and shot off a stunner. The rat was too quick, as he started weaving as he scampered away.
"Fuck!" Sirius shouted as he dashed into the street after Peter.
The rat ran underneath a smoking car, causing Sirius to run around the burning vehicle. Sirius' breath hitched in his throat as he saw Wormtail jump into a drain. Sirius froze in the middle of the street, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked around to see blood in the streets, people sobbing, two cars on fire, sirens wailing in the distance. What had Peter done?
It was brilliant, really. The perfect getaway. Sirius howled, the laughter causing his head to roll back to look up at the oddly bright blue sky. When did Peter become so fucking brilliant? Where was that same quick-thinking when they were at school? How many times would they have escaped detention if Peter hadn't been a fucking annoying lump back in the day?
"Drop the wand!" a voice shouted. "Hands up!"
Glancing to his right, Sirius saw an Auror pointing his wand at Sirius' chest. Another bout of laughter consumed him, because he was seriously going to be arrested for what Peter had done? Sirius looked around the street, spotting a small child no older than three shaking his obviously dead mother, the smile falling from his lips and the laughter dying in his throat.
"DROP THE WAND NOW!"
Sirius opened his fingers, his wand falling to the ground. Tears burned Sirius' eyes as he thought of Harry and the broken promise to see him again soon. It would take days, weeks, if not months to work everything out with the Ministry of Magic and prove his innocence. Sirius started laughing again, not out of humor for his ex-friend's amazing show of brilliance for the first time in his pathetic life. But rather because of how fucked up everything had become in a matter of a day. He couldn't stop laughing, the tears pouring down his face as he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and forcefully shove it behind his back. Cold encased around his wrists as he allowed the Aurors to arrest him without resisting.
A wand pressed against his throat and a male voice hissed in his ear, "What the fuck is the matter with you?"
Sirius winced as the wand pressed deep into his neck. He couldn't speak, his entire body shaking with laughter, with fear, with anxiety. All he wanted was to hold Harry, to tell him everything would be all right. The thought of not seeing Harry in the near future made him want to collapse into the fetal position. Harry would be so scared with Petunia and Vernon. He never met them, never even saw them before. Sirius had seen the way Harry reacted when people he didn't see often stopped by the Hollow. He had always been scared, clinging to his parents or to Sirius. Harry didn't like new people.
"Please," Sirius gasped out between his half-laugh, half-sob. "Let, let me see my, my godson."
Fingers wrapped around his elbow, pushing him forward. "The only thing you're going to see in the near future is fucking bars."
Sirius screwed his eyes shut, trying to regulate his emotions but failing miserably. "I need to see him!"
His entire world squeezed together as he felt the sensation of side-along Apparition occur. He stumbled when he landed in a white room with no windows or any furniture. Just a boundless white that nearly blinded him. Sirius craned his neck to look behind him to see three Aurors surrounding him. He blinked back the tears, wondering when the fuck they had all appeared. His mind spun as he was shoved forward.
"Walk," one of the Aurors barked at him.
Sirius stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet as they exited the too-bright room into a more normal hallway. They shoved him forward into a new room across from the one they had just exited.
"Do you have any other wands on you?" one of the Aurors asked. "Any contraband?"
Sirius blinked, the laughter finally dying in his throat as he trembled. "No."
The door to the room opened, and several other Aurors stepped inside. At the end of the small group stood Alastor Moody, his face hard and unreadable. The bonds left Sirius' wrists and he automatically started to massage his wrists.
"Look, there's been a…" Sirius licked his bottom lip, "a serious mistake."
"Strip, Black," Alastor commanded as he stepped in front of the group of people.
Sirius' heart pounded in his chest, his fight or flight reaction kicking into overdrive as old memories flooded his mind. His throat closed up, his eyes snapping to look at everyone in the room.
"What?" Sirius managed to gasp out.
"Strip," Alastor said again. "We need to check you for contraband before we transfer you to Azkaban."
Sirius blinked. "Azkaban? What… what about a holding cell? Aren't you, aren't you going to interrogate me?"
Alastor sighed. "Strip or else we'll do it for you."
One of the Aurors raised their wand and pointed it right between Sirius' eyes. Sirius' chest heaved as he shrugged off his leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor. The wand didn't lower so Sirius hauled his bloody t-shirt off over his head.
Alastor nodded at his shirt. "Whose blood is that?"
Sirius licked his lips again as he dropped the ruined shirt onto the floor. "Harry's."
"Harry? You mean Harry Potter?" Alastor pressed, murmurs erupting around the room and echoing off the walls.
Sirius nodded. "I, I saw him last night. After…" Sirius cleared his throat, his head shaking. "They were already… Harry had a cut on his forehead. Is he all right?"
"Keep stripping," Alastor replied, ignoring Sirius' question.
Sirius clenched his jaw as he bent down to undo the laces of his boots. His entire body shook as he tried to figure out how he was going to explain this entire mess. He'd need to come clean about him and Peter being Animagi. It would probably be less time in jail if he was the one to reveal the illegal magic they had performed at fifteen. Fuck, they were morons. Why didn't they just register like normal people? It would be easier to explain, more believable.
Sirius stood up and toed off his boots as he worked on the belt buckle. His fingers fumbled. He couldn't stop his quivering limbs no matter how hard he tried. Once the trousers were off, he carded both of his hands through his hair, grabbing the strands as he tried to regulate his breathing.
"Boxers too," Alastor added. "Take the necklace off."
"Can you just fucking tell me if Harry's all right?" Sirius asked, his voice on edge as he pulled the dog tags off his neck and tossed them to the ground.
When Sirius didn't receive a response, he sucked in a breath and pushed his boxers to the ground. He cupped himself immediately, trying to maintain some sense of privacy, as he kicked his boxers off. He felt sick, like he could spew vomit all over each and every single wanker that stood before him. Nobody was listening to him. Nobody would tell him how Harry was. He wanted to scream, punch a wall, destroy everything in sight. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to contain the emotions swirling around inside of him.
"Hands up in the air," Alastor instructed.
A shuddering breath escaped his lips. His eyes burned as he kept them wide open in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. His arms shook as he raised them above his head, and Sirius felt himself start to shut down. His gaze rose to the ceiling as he let out a long breath.
"Check his tattoos," Alastor said. "Make note of any runes on his body and check for the Dark Mark."
Hands touched his body, Aurors walking around him as they inspected the ink on his skin. One Auror grabbed his right arm and turned it. Sirius didn't have the fucking Dark Mark on his arm. Except nothing witty would leave his lips. He felt numb and mute, his eyes closing as he saw Harry's crying face haunting the backs of his eyelids.
"There's a burn mark where the Dark Mark would be," the Auror announced.
"Why'd you burn your arm there?" Alastor asked in a casual tone.
Sirius swallowed. "Because I'm fucking left-handed and I wanted to burn myself to see if I was alive."
Alastor snorted. "Turn around, hands on the wall. Bend over."
Sirius opened his eyes and looked over at Alastor. There was nothing but an empty and cold gaze staring back at him. There was no familiarity, like they had never fought side-by-side in the Order of the Phoenix before. There was only disdain and hatred. Turning around slowly, Sirius braced his hands on the wall and bent down.
A cold sensation filled his backside, causing Sirius to shiver. A sob crawled up his throat at the degrading process, but he refused to let the sound escape his mouth. Sirius sniffed, waiting for it all to be over with. When he was told to stand up and turn around, he did so obediently… just like he had when he was a child and his mother ordered him around, too scared to disobey in fear of what kind of punishment she would inflict upon him.
Prison robes were shoved towards him.
"Get dressed," Alastor instructed. "I'll be transferring you to Azkaban."
Sirius grabbed the drab gray robes, dressing as quickly as he could. He didn't want to be exposed anymore, his tattoos and marks scrutinized. All he wanted was to know how Harry was doing, if he was crying for him, when he'd get the chance to talk to someone about what had truly happened. He knew it wasn't the time to lash out. Being compliant would help his case. Surely, when they looked at his wand and the spells that had been cast, there would be more than enough evidence to prove he didn't kill anyone.
"Hands behind your back," Alastor commanded.
Sirius did as he was told, felt the coils fastening his wrists together once more. Alastor grabbed him roughly by the bicep and Aurors surrounded them as they left the room.
"Please, just tell me how Harry is," Sirius tried once more as they made their way through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, all eyes turning to openly stare at them as gossip filled the otherwise silent room.
"Why do you even care?" Alastor asked in a bitter tone. "Want to know if your little friends got to him yet?"
Sirius shot Alastor a look. "I know you think I'm the spy, but I'm not."
Alastor let out a bitter laugh as they stopped in front of a massive stone fireplace that looked out of place. "I know you were the Secret Keeper. I also know it took you less than a week to sell out your supposed best friends and godson."
Sirius screwed his eyes shut, beyond upset that he and James had been so arrogant to tell no one about the switch. He didn't even know how to explain why they decided to keep it secret. James' reasoning seemed ridiculous now and he felt like such an idiot for going along with it, for being so upset that Dumbledore had suspected him as the spy.
Someone pushed Sirius forward. He opened his eyes just in time to see the green flames in the fireplace and he fell into them. Falling out of the second fireplace, Sirius grimaced as his face collided with little pebbly rocks. A chill ran up his spine as he looked up to see a small hut next to a vast sea. Hands hauled him up, and Sirius winced as his bare feet pressed into the sharp pebbles. He supposed shoes weren't apart of the official prison uniform.
Alastor threw a badge at the security wizard standing in the hut. "Booking Sirius Orion Black. Birthday the third of November nineteen fifty-nine. He'll be in maximum security for murder and breaking the Statute of Secrecy."
Sirius glanced over at Alastor, his brow furrowing as a lump lodged itself into his throat. Maximum security. His wrists twisted against the bonds, his heart speeding up. The blood rushed in his ears, his eyes screwing shut. There was Harry again, his face puckered up and tears spilling down his bloody face. Sirius gasped for air, his knees trembling under his weight. He couldn't help it. He started laughing again.
"Completely mental," an Auror muttered.
"Heard the entire family was certifiable," another Auror grumbled.
Sirius laughed during the boat ride to the small island, his body shivering uncontrollably as the icy water flicked up beneath him. He had really stepped in it this time. He had been walking on a tight rope for so long, thinking himself clever and untouchable that he had scraped by without too much trouble. At sixteen, he had nearly murdered Snape with one sentence, a few words, and a lot of anger.
His life had been a series of mistakes and near misses. Somehow, he had always come out unscathed except for a few hexes, slaps, reprimands, or shouting matches. Nothing noteworthy to remember except losing his friendship with Remus. But now… now there was the death of his girlfriend, the death of his brother, the death of his sister, the loneliness and sadness that his godson would experience. There was maximum security prison, and a threat of losing his freedom if the trial didn't go in his favor.
It was all Sirius' fault. The death and destruction that threatened to suffocate him. The broken promise to Harry as his entire world fell apart around him. Sirius couldn't even comprehend anything going on around him as he made his way through the prison, barely registering the screams and shouts echoing around him.
It wasn't until he was pushed into a cell, his body colliding with the jagged stone, that he come to his senses. The bars behind him closed with a loud click. The bonds on his hands disappeared. But Sirius didn't move from the floor.
"Fucker," a voice hissed.
Sirius licked his lip, a metallic taste coating his tastebuds. Then, within moments, coldness pressed against his skin as his lungs constricted. Gasping for breath, he craned his neck around to see a figure floating past his cell in tattered robes. Long fingers wrapped around the bars to his cell and Sirius could only sob as despair settled into his bones.
After becoming lost in the sewer system beneath London, Peter had transformed into his human self. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't believe he had bested Sirius! A wide smile spread across his lips. He felt like he was floating, having an out-of-body experience. When Peter had seen Marlene last, he knew he needed a plan in case Sirius ever found out what had really happened at the McKinnon Manor and that Peter had been there that night. Framing Sirius for his murder seemed like a brilliant plan. It would put Sirius behind bars and keep Peter safe. It would allow him to work in secret as Wormtail for Bellatrix.
Apparating to Wiltshire, Peter transformed immediately. He couldn't risk being seen by anyone. He took off immediately towards Lestrange Manor. He couldn't wait to tell Bellatrix all about how he had beat Sirius and framed him for murder. She would be elated and proud. He wouldn't be surprised if she even gave him a second look and saw him as a worthy partner. They would be a great duo in both their personal and professional lives.
By the time he scurried up the walkway towards the Lestrange residence, he was out of breath and wanted nothing but a warm bed. He stilled when he caught sight of Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Barty Crouch Junior.
"I'll fucking kill him!" Bellatrix shouted.
Rodolphus grabbed her elbow, harshly turning her around to look at him. "You want to scream your murderous inclinations a little louder, love?"
Bellatrix wrenched her arm away, the tips of her hair rising off her back. "HE BETRAYED ME! THAT FUCKING RAT!"
Peter darted behind a bush, his heart pounding against his ribs. Surely, Bellatrix wasn't talking about him? He had delivered the Potters! Sure, it hadn't gone as planned and Harry was still alive and the Dark Lord vanished into thin air, but he had done exactly what was asked of him! He delivered the Potters! He had put Sirius behind bars! Surely, without Sirius protecting Harry, they would be able to find Harry and Bellatrix could finish what the Dark Lord had started! She'd be the perfect replacement for the Dark Lord. She was cunning, intelligent, beautiful, amazing.
Rodolphus laughed. "Merlin, Pettigrew was a lump. Did you really think you could craft him into some brilliant wizard?"
"I had him eating off the bottom of my fucking boot," Bellatrix hissed. "He was my bloody servant. I had him drooling like a pathetic dog."
"Now, the Dark Lord is dead," Barty interjected, a twisted smile crossing his features. "Because of you."
"I WILL DESTROY YOU!" Bellatrix roared, her left hand reaching for her wand as she leapt forward.
Rodolphus grabbed her, one arm around her waist and pinning her to his chest. His fingers on his free hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her from hexing Crouch. He only laughed in response.
"Let's channel your anger on Pettigrew into something useful, yeah?" Rodolphus asked, his hand gliding up her body until his fingers tightened around her throat. "Barty said he saw Frank Longbottom at the Ministry this morning, asking for his job back. Barty followed him home. Apparently, they've been holed up in his great-grandmother's abandoned estate over in Blackheath. The wards weren't even that grand. Not like the Potters. We could break them."
Crouch licked his bottom lip, his eyes raking down Bellatrix's body. "Want to drop to your knees and apologize, Bella?"
"If I drop to my knees, I'll bite your fucking tiny cock right off," Bellatrix hissed.
Rodolphus chuckled, his hand leaving her throat and roaming down until it disappeared beneath the fabric of her low-cut robes and cupped her ample breast. "That's my girl. Channel all that rage into destroying the Longbottoms. Take charge, destroy them."
Peter couldn't stay. Bellatrix had been upset with him. She hated him. She used him. She thought he was a pathetic dog? Peter scurried away, not knowing exactly where he was going, but he knew he had to get as far away from Wiltshire as possible. Bellatrix had never seen his Animagus form before, but he didn't want to risk her figuring it out. He wouldn't put it past her to kill every single rat she found in hopes that it was him. He had never seen her so angry before.
Day became night. Peter was exhausted, thirsty, and didn't know how much more he could move. He found a petrol station several hours later and found a large vehicle that he could hide on. While the wind blew against his fur, he let sleep consume him as he traveled even further away from Wiltshire in the dead of night. Nightmares of Bellatrix finding him and torturing him plagued in his mind. In the dead of the night, he jumped off the vehicle when it stopped and set off again, having no idea where he even was anymore. He was starving and ate something smelly and rotten out of a bin in some small village. He knew he needed to find a place to settle, as far away from the love of his life as he could manage. He could barely move, his legs nearly dead weight beneath him, both from so much running and from a broken heart.
When the sun rose, Peter saw a muddy pond. He gulped down the water, so happy to have something to drink after a day of just running. Plopping down onto the grass, he thought about where he could go. A nice wizarding family was what he needed to find. One that would take him in so he could hear news about Sirius' trial. Surely, no one would believe Sirius' story. He was a Black after all.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" a tiny voice roared. "I DON'T LIKE YOU TWO!"
Peter froze in his spot and turned his head towards the shouting. He noticed a small redheaded child running. His glasses slid down his nose, tears pouring down his freckled cheeks. The boy threw himself on the ground not far from the pond. Crossing his arms over his chest, he pouted. His foot kicked at the dirt, digging a small hole.
"They're so mean," the boy grumbled as he looked around the garden, his eyes landing on Peter.
Peter didn't move, hoping that the kid wouldn't hurt him. Except a soft smile crossed the boy's features as he scooted closer to the pond.
"Hello," the boy greeted. "My name's Percy. What happened to your foot?"
Peter blinked at the boy. Was the boy playing with him? Harry sometimes babbled to inanimate objects or screeched at the cat, but this boy was a lot older than Harry. Percy picked him up and Peter stayed as still as possible.
"You have a scab on your foot," Percy observed, as he plopped Peter in his lap before pushing up his glasses. "Did you hurt yourself?"
Peter twitched his whiskers. Maybe, just maybe, the little boy would take care of him if he was friendly and nice.
"I'll call you Scabbers," Percy decided. "Since your foot's all scabbed up. Let's go see if Mum will let me keep you! You can be my friend. I don't have any friends," Percy explained as he stood up and cradled Peter to his chest. "Bill and Charlie are best friends. Fred and George are best friends. Ron and Ginny are babies, and I'm pretty sure they'll end up being best friends too one day. I don't have anyone. Can we be best friends?"
Peter snuggled against the boy's soft jumper, a content sigh escaping his lips. It was a cold November day and he really just wanted to sit by a fire and warm up. Plus, he couldn't run anymore. His front paw throbbed something awful, nearly as bad as his heart ached. Percy rushed towards a lopsided house and Peter felt joy burst in his chest.
"MUM!" Percy shouted as he entered a door into a kitchen. "Mum! I found a rat! Can I keep him? I named him Scabbers!"
Peter spotted a redheaded woman sitting at a table, her hair pulled up into a messy bun with tired eyes. A tiny baby laid in a small cot on the table. On the other side of her was a small boy in a highchair munching on berries. The boy couldn't have been much older than Harry. Peter perked up when he noticed the knitting needles working on a jumper with magic and some pans in the sink cleaning themselves.
"Oh, Percy, a rat?" the mother asked, her face falling. "Are you sure you want to keep a rat?"
Percy nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"
A man wandered into the kitchen and Peter instantly recognized him. Peter had met Arthur Weasley a few times at the Ministry and at the last few Order of the Phoenix meetings. Peter really had to be on his best behavior because a pureblood family would be perfect to settle into.
"Morning, Weasleys!" Arthur greeted as he pressed a kiss on the boy's head in the highchair before he went to the small cot on the table. "Hello, Ginny. Are your fingers rather delicious today?" He picked up the baby and cradled her close to his chest. "Percy! What do you have there?"
"A rat I found. Can I keep him?" Percy pleaded, his bottom lip protruding out. "I named him Scabbers."
"Scabbers?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowing.
"Look, he has a scab on his front paw! He hurt himself!" Percy exclaimed as he held out the rat for his father to inspect.
"Well, what did your mother say?" Arthur asked, glancing at his wife over the top of his glasses.
She pursed her lips. "You'll have to take care of him! I don't want to be cleaning up after him at all!"
Arthur nodded, a serious look crossing his features. "An animal is a very big responsibility, Percy. You'll have to feed him. Clean up after him. Bath him. Your mother and I don't want a pet, so you can't rely on us to do anything with him."
A grin flittered across Percy's face. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I'll take such good care of him! Gooder than anyone could ever take care of a rat!"
Arthur chuckled as he sat down at the table, the baby still in his arms.
Molly sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. "Bring him here. I'll look at his foot."
Percy transferred Peter to Molly. Her nose wrinkled and Peter decided he was going to be the best damn rat that he could muster. He'd be well behaved, never leaving a mess of food and making sure he wouldn't leave any droppings in the house. Arthur and Molly would no doubt be impressed with Percy for house-training his pet rat so well. Peter twitched his whiskers as Molly pointed her wand at his foot and a bright yellow light escaped the tip of her wand. He sighed in relief, the scab disappearing and replacing it with a small pink circle.
Once back into Percy's arms, the boy rushed upstairs and quickly started telling Peter all about his brothers and sister. Peter understood very quickly to stay away from the twins. Merlin, they sounded worse than James and Sirius in their heydays! He smiled when Percy sat him down gently on a fluffy pillow and laid down next to him, prattling off about silly things. With a content sigh, Peter drifted off to sleep.
The Potters were buried on the third of November. Remus thought it had to be some sort of cruel cosmic joke that their bodies would be laid to rest on their betrayer's birthday. If he had even an ounce of control over the situation, he never would have allowed it to happen. Except the funeral arrangements had been made by the Ministry of Magic so they could profit even more off the deaths of two people who had given everything to save the bloody fucking shit world Remus found himself a part of.
It was easier to call them the Potters in the days following their deaths, because saying Lily and James were dead made Remus choke and sob for hours. It was impossible to think that he and Mary were the only ones left of their friendship group. Remus' heart ached for their more carefree days when they were untouched and invincible.
The only reason he mustered up enough courage to attend the funerals was so that he could see Harry. Otherwise, he would have buried away his troubles with cheap liquor and probably would have wound up in some Muggle hospital with alcohol poisoning. Instead, he put on a suit and a tie and masqueraded around as a Muggle. He was one of the few to turn up to the graveyard in appropriate attire as Ministry of Magic employees tried to repel the Muggles and shouted at the wizards to change their clothes.
He looked around for Harry in the mass throng of people since he had no clue what the Dursleys even looked like. Only James, Sirius, and Marlene had ever met Lily's sister and her brother-in-law. From what he gathered, nobody had liked them very much. Tugging down his suit jacket with its patched elbows, he meandered through the crowd for any sign of Harry's messy little head. Except, he was nowhere to be found.
Remus couldn't pay attention, his mind buzzing and head foggy. He spotted Mary across the graveyard while the Minister of Magic himself gave a eulogy to the right of the gravestone that bore his friends' names. She waved weakly at him, her face red and puffy. Remus could only muster a curt head nod before turning away.
Everything had been so wrong. The quote on their gravestone that had been apparently hand-picked by Dumbledore didn't encompass anything real about the Potters. Just some tacky placeholder instead of something more personal. There were cliche white lilies everywhere that would have Lily rolling her eyes in exasperation. There were so many people that Remus didn't know, which only highlighted that nobody really knew the true Lily and James there except for a select few who seemed to be huddled together. Worst yet, the sky had the audacity to be bright and sunny.
Remus didn't even stay for the entire funeral. He couldn't take any more of it. It wasn't a funeral to remember the people that James and Lily had been but rather a big fake production.
As Remus left the graveyard, a figure in the shadows caught his eye. He looked up to see Andromeda Tonks in a fitted black dress with a small black hat. She clutched a pocketbook in her hands in front of her, her gray eyes staring at Remus. He had nothing to say to any member of the Black family at that moment.
"Remus, may we talk?" Andromeda called.
He had only met her a handful of times over the years. She had always been pleasant and nice, but she had the same haughty and proper air around her that Sirius possessed.
"What do you need, Andromeda?" Remus asked, his tone clipped and short.
"I wanted to talk about Sirius," Andromeda admitted, her eyes slightly misty.
Remus sighed. "I have no interest in talking about Sirius."
Andromeda frowned. "Don't you believe he's innocent?"
Remus laughed bitterly. "No, I don't think Sirius is innocent."
Andromeda squared her jaw. "You think he's capable of murdering thirteen people?"
"You obviously don't know Sirius as well as I do," Remus replied, thinking of Sirius' cruel joke when they were in fifth year that nearly marked him as a murderer. Remus had tried to forgive, he really did, especially after James had told him how Sirius had fled his family home a few weeks after the incident. Remus had seen the way Sirius had looked upon arriving back at Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays, looking hardened with brand new clothes and a new wand and how he recoiled when someone would touch him for the longest time. Remus had tried to forgive, but he hadn't forgotten.
"Perhaps, you're the one who doesn't know Sirius well enough," Andromeda said in a cold voice, her chin jutting up.
"You don't know the things Sirius has done," Remus countered in a soft voice. "He's not who I thought he was."
"If you're talking about the prank he pulled at sixteen," Andromeda started, a huff in her voice.
"He told you?" Remus snapped, cutting her off from saying anymore as he looked around the graveyard.
Andromeda pursed her lips. "Of course, he told me. He had received a letter from Walburga a few weeks prior where she told him she was done with him acting out and things were going to change over the Christmas holidays. I don't think I need to tell you what they did to him and how he just narrowly escaped with his life."
"That's an excuse?" Remus snapped. "To try to force me to be a murderer because his parents are shit people?"
Andromeda shook her head, a sneer working on her face. "He was beyond stressed about going home for the holidays. He snapped. He knew it was a mistake the moment the words left his lips in anger, but the only thing he could do to try to stop it was to tell James. He regretted it, knowing it changed your friendship forever."
Remus stood frozen, his demeanor turning cold. "So… he just told you then? That I'm… I'm a monster?"
Andromeda blinked at him, clearly looking bored with the conversation. "Being a werewolf doesn't automatically make one a monster, Remus."
"How can it not?" Remus hissed.
"I grew up in the Black family, Remus. There were monsters around every corner. Trust me when I say that none of them were werewolves," Andromeda replied. "Sirius was one of the good ones."
Remus closed his eyes. The pain of that statement made him want to scream until his throat split in two.
"It wasn't reported in the papers, but Sirius was the one to give Voldemort Lily and James' location," Remus whispered.
Andromeda stiffened. "That can't be true."
"It is," Remus said, his hands shoving into the pockets of his tattered trousers. "I'm sorry, Andromeda. He had us all fooled."
Andromeda shook her head. "You're wrong."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "I wish I was. Truly, I do, but they were under some charm. Only a Secret Keeper could reveal their location. James picked Sirius as his Secret Keeper."
Andromeda swallowed, her perfectly cold and calculated persona crumbling. "Then he was hoodwinked. Tricked. Manipulated. Sirius would never sell out James, let alone Harry. Sirius doted on that boy. I never even met the kid, but I have a stack of letters telling me all about him. Merlin, I even have photos from the last time Sirius stopped by before… before Marlene died."
Remus felt his anger spike. "Well, consider yourself fooled, Andromeda."
"He wouldn't, Remus. Deep down, you know that. You're just hurting," Andromeda said in a rush. "We need to prove he's innocent."
"We don't need to do anything," Remus emphasized, his head shaking. "He'll get his trial and you can see what happened for yourself. I, for one, will not be there or even listening to it."
"But Harry-"
"Harry is fine! He's with his aunt and uncle where he belongs, because his psychopathic godfather has been arrested for murder!" Remus hissed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I don't feel like talking about Sirius fucking Black when I'm trying to bury my best friends that he bloody well killed."
Remus brushed past Andromeda, not bothering to look back at her as she called out for him. All he wanted was to be left alone to wallow in his grief. He certainly didn't need to hear about Sirius Black, the poor rich pureblood who had bowed down to his blood supremist family's ideologies and murdered his best friend and orphaned his godson. Remus Apparated on the spot, looking forward to spending the rest of the day with the bottle of whisky on the counter in his kitchen.
Sirius' breaths came out in harsh huffs. His eyes physically hurt from all of the tears he had shed and his refusal to sleep, his mind numb and empty just like James' eyes had been just days ago. He couldn't even blink his eyes because every time he did, he only saw James lying dead on the floor. Sirius had done that. It was his fault. All his fucking fault. Sirius only wished he had a sharp object to take to his wrists and stop the pain.
His gaze turned to the wall next to him to see three lines carved into the stone wall, a bit of blood staining the weathered gray.
Three days ago, James and Lily had died. Two days ago, he had arrived in Azkaban. One days ago, he curled up into a ball and hadn't moved from his spot on the floor while he lost his ability to cry. Today… today, he was twenty-two and wanted to die.
Sirius licked his chapped lips, wondering when his day in court would be. He didn't even know what he would say in front of the Wizengamot but he knew he had to pull himself together. He had promised Harry he would see him soon before he had left to track down Peter. Harry was waiting for him. Sirius needed to protect his godson. Peter was still out there, waiting and lurking in the shadows.
Except, Sirius didn't know how to pull himself together. He had been wrong about Remus. Peter had been the backstabber. Marlene, James, Lily, and so many more had been murdered because of his treachery. Sirius wanted to rip Peter's head off his body with his own two fucking hands.
No.
He had already tried and failed to destroy Peter. Now, now he needed to be there for Harry. He had to raise him and love him and tell him all about James and Lily and not let their sacrifice be for naught.
But Sirius couldn't move. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel. He was a shell of himself battling against a boundless darkness that consumed him. There was only death and destruction. Maybe, just maybe, he deserved to be there and stay as far away from Harry as humanly possible.
He was a Black. A parasite. A bête noire. He was as dark as his name. A stain. An aberration.
A chill ran up Sirius' spine, a heaviness filling his chest. A sob gasped from his lips as a herd of Dementors passed by his cell. His body trembled, a cold sweat breaking out along his brow.
"You don't think about anyone!" Remus' voice roared in his head. "I could have killed Snape! I could have been executed! Life isn't one big joke, Sirius!"
Sirius screwed his eyes shut, his palms pressing against his ears.
"You killed him," James whispered in a breathless voice. "Sirius, you just killed someone."
"It's us or them, James! He was a Death Eater!" Sirius roared, unapologetic to what he had done.
"If we kill, we are no better than they are!" James argued.
"If we don't kill, we might as well dig our own graves!"
Sirius couldn't breathe. His lungs closed from the cold as he attempted to gasp for air, his body toppling to the ground and convulsing.
"You're no better than the rest of us it seems," Regulus said in a low, bored tone. "You think you're better than us but really, Sirius, you're not."
Sirius grappled to pull himself up, but he only felt like he was being pulled further under.
"Take him, Euphemia!" Walburga screeched, venom dripping from her words "And you'll see just how wretched he really is!"
Vomit spewed from Sirius' lips, the smell penetrating his senses.
"You'll never escape us, Sirius," Bellatrix whispered in his ear, sending goosebumps down his arms. "I'll always find you and I'll break you and bring you home."
Sirius gasped for breath, the cold lifting from his skin but leaving him drenched in sweat. His eyes opened but his gaze was unfocused and blurry. He pushed himself up off the floor, his hand smearing in his own sick. Bile rose in his throat once more.
He blinked, his own sweat burning his eyes, as he scooted away from the mess on the floor.
"That's certainly one way to give the two-finger salute to your posh pureblood family," James echoed in his head. "Vomiting all over yourself isn't very refined, Padfoot."
Sirius slammed his head against the stone wall and something out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He turned his head to see James leaning casually against his cell wall. Sirius' throat clogged.
"You're not real," he croaked.
James shrugged. "I'm as real as you are right now."
"Fuck off," Sirius growled, his head rolling to look up at the stone ceiling. Everything in Azkaban was made of stone. Cold and dark. Sirius felt a lump form in his throat.
"I tried telling you that Remus wasn't the spy," James continued in a casual tone. "Though, admittedly, I didn't see Peter being the spy either. I guess loyalty isn't an absolute in times of war."
Sirius screwed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything, but his mind came up empty as though everything had been sucked from his brain.
"You're not real," Sirius repeated.
"You can't rot in here, Padfoot," James pressed.
"Don't call me that!" Sirius roared, his eyes snapping open as he turned to look at his best mate's ghost. "You're dead! You're not fucking real!"
James seemed unbothered by the outburst. "You've been spiraling for months now. I've seen it. Lily's seen it. Merlin, Sirius, even Harry has seen it and he thinks his fingers are food."
"Go away," Sirius sighed.
"If you stay in here for another day, you will be stuck here. You are slipping away right now. I can see it. You'll be nothing soon," James reasoned.
"I'm already nothing," Sirius replied in a tight voice. "I've lost everything."
"What about Harry?" James pressed.
Sirius didn't think it was possible that he'd have any tears left to cry but it seemed like he had a few more left for his beloved godson. "He's better off without me."
"You and I both know that's not true," James whispered. "Sirius, look at me."
"I can't look at something that's not real," Sirius murmured and refused to look at him.
"For fuck's sake, Sirius!" James shouted. "You don't get to give up! You don't get to sit here and wallow in your self-pity!"
Sirius' lips twitched. "I don't have to listen to you."
"Well too fucking bad, because I'm not leaving until you get up!" James continued as he crossed the room and crouched down right in front of Sirius. "Get the fuck up."
"Suck my cock," Sirius seethed. "You're not him. You're not James."
James shook his head. "If you won't get up for me, then get up for Harry!"
"Don't talk about Harry to me," Sirius growled as he looked at James.
James' jaw clenched. "I'll talk about my damn son if I want to talk about him. Get the fuck up. Don't let them win."
Sirius scoffed, his head shaking. "Fuck off."
"Get up!" James shouted. "Get up, Sirius! I understand how you're feeling right now. I've been scraped across the bottom of the barrel, feeling as though I were drowning and like I was struggling to get every single fucking breath out. The fear and uncertainty were paralyzing. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything but worry that I was letting Harry down, letting Lily down. You can't fall into the same bottomless pit that I did. Harry needs you. He needs you to protect him. He needs you to help him. Voldemort isn't gone. He'll come back and he'll hunt Harry down."
Sirius stood up on shaking legs, his limbs trembling from lack of use and lack of nutrients. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. He knew it wouldn't be long until the Dementors force-fed him. He'd seen in it with his own two eyes, prisoners trying to kill themselves by starving to death. Death wasn't easy in Azkaban. The guards made sure of that.
"Leave me alone," Sirius sighed, no longer having the strength or the will to argue.
"Sirius, you promised," James whispered.
Sirius screwed his eyes shut as he stumbled across his cell. James' words from a few weeks ago haunting his mind.
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.
Promises broken. Promises unkept. Sirius didn't even want to think about Petunia and Vernon taking care of Harry. They were probably doing the bare minimum, yelling at him and hating him. Sirius felt another sob crawl up his throat. Harry needed cuddles right now, not whatever the Dursleys were giving him.
Cackling echoed, quieting down the entire wing of the prison. Sirius' heart stopped. He'd know that mad cackling from anywhere. He stumbled towards the bars of his cell, his fingers wrapping around the cool metal to help him keep up right. His heart hammered in his chest as he saw Bellatrix Lestrange being dragged into the cell across from him.
She looked madder than ever, like what little sanity she had left had all but vacated her body. Her laughter pierced through the air, her eyes practically lighting up when she caught sight of Sirius. He forced himself to look away, his eyes catching Alastor Moody staring at him.
"Alastor," Sirius croaked.
The other Aurors looked at Alastor, waiting for further instruction. He waved in their direction before he stepped up in front of Sirius, his lips snarling.
"What do you want, Black?" Alastor snapped.
Sirius licked his dry lips. "I need to speak with Dumbledore."
Alastor snorted. "He has no interest in speaking with you."
"Look, I know you think I'm the spy," Sirius said in a rush. "J-James told me as much. But it's not me. It was Peter and he-"
"You have a lot of nerve, Black," growled Alastor. "Blame it all on a dead bloke."
Sirius swallowed. "He's not dead. I saw him."
"Oh, and I'm fucking Merlin," Alastor replied, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Nice try, Black."
Sirius tightened his grip on the bars and leaned forward so he could lower his voice. "Peter knows about the… James told him about the you-know-what. About Harry. He's going to tell all the other Death Eaters."
Alastor leaned in close, a snarl clear as day crossing his features. "I'd shut the fuck up if you know what's good for you, Black."
Sirius clenched his jaw. "When's my trial?"
Laughter erupted from all of the Aurors. Sirius looked around at them, not knowing what was so fucking funny.
"There is no trial, Black," Alastor explained. "In fact, I'm here to kill two birds with one stone."
"What?" Sirius managed to gasp out. "What do you mean there's no trial?"
Alastor cleared his throat. "What I mean is, the Auror Department and the Wizengamot agree, there's more than enough evidence against you to convict without a trial. A life sentence."
Sirius' heart sank to the floor. He had never heard of something like it before. No trial? An agreement on conviction without even a syllable heard from him? It was beyond corrupt. There was no one left in Sirius' life that would fight for anything different for him. James wouldn't stand for such an injustice, but he was dead… along with Lily, Fleamont, and Euphemia. There was the potential that Andromeda may want answers but even then, he was afraid she would think he was just like the rest of their wretched family. She had cried buckets when Regulus had joined the Death Eaters and had subsequently been killed not long after.
"Reggie, Sirius, we failed to protect him! We let Walburga destroy him!" Andromeda's sobs echoed in his head.
"He was beyond saving, Andy. He was always a good little pureblood son," had been Sirius' cold response that had left Andromeda fuming.
"Step away from the bars, Black," Alastor commanded.
Sirius stumbled back, the cell spinning around him. Aurors pushed him against the wall of his cell, pulling his arms out on either side of him before they attached them to the wall with invisible bonds. Sirius' breathing picked up as he squirmed, concerned with what was happening to him.
"Stop! What are you doing?" Sirius gasped as a man in an Azkaban guard uniform grabbed him by the chin, his nails digging into Sirius' flesh.
"You are no longer Sirius Black," the man in the guard robes told him.
Sirius let out a small chuckle of disbelief. "What does that even mean?"
Nobody answered his question. He was so sick of nobody answering him when he spoke. A wand pressed to his temple and Sirius couldn't move his head, as though a Sticking Charm kept his cheek pinned to the wall. He started to kick his legs, but those too were immobilized. A wand touched his neck and pain exploded as a familiar sensation of getting a tattoo consumed him. Sirius screwed his eyes shut, as he tried to figure out what they were branding into his skin. He could barely concentrate as he was fairly certain the first two motions were some kind of runes as they didn't follow a pattern of any familiar number or letter. Gritting his teeth, he thought the last three motions were definitely numbers and letters, but it was hard to concentrate due to the pain radiating down his body. They were familiar yet Sirius couldn't quite picture them in his current state.
"Done," a voice announced. "Welcome to your new permanent home, Prisoner Three-Six-Zero."
The wizards walked away, leaving Sirius pinned to the wall. Once the door to his cell slammed shut, the magic holding Sirius to the wall fell. Sirius crumpled to the ground in a heap. His heart pounded as his hand rose and he felt around his neck. He couldn't make out what exactly they had branded him with as it was smooth against his skin. There was no mirror to see the fresh ink that had been etched into his pale skin, the first tattoo he received that he didn't fucking want. Leaning his back against the wall, Sirius closed his eyes.
No trial.
Convicted.
Life sentence.
No more freedom.
No more sun.
Certainly, no more Harry.
Sirius' heart ached, his eyes snapping open and frantically looking around the dirty and bare cell. He didn't want to be alive anymore. What was the point of living if he was going to rot away forgotten in some bloody cell?
A cold chill ran up Sirius' spine, the Dementors were back. They were always there except for the rare times when the Aurors brought in a new maximum security prisoner. Sirius refused to blink as he watched the cloaked figures walking past his cell.
"Ssssss!" Harry's enthusiastic hissing filled his head and Sirius' body trembled.
"Harry…" Sirius whispered in a miserable tone.
"You let them win," James' voice echoed in his head. "I told you not to let them win, Pads."
Pressing his palms into his eyes, Sirius tried to push the voices out of his head. Harry's crying echoed all around him until Sirius couldn't take it any longer. His hands dropped from his face and he saw him. He saw Harry. The little boy stood in front of him, blood streaking down his cheek and tears swimming around his emerald eyes. He didn't move. He only cried, large tears pouring down his cheeks. Sirius sucked in a breath, unable to stop his own tears from falling as he stared at the crying toddler in front of him.
Sirius knew Harry wasn't really there. Just like James hadn't been there either. Sirius did the only thing he could think of. He transformed into Padfoot, curling up in the tiniest ball he could manage.
The sound of crying stopped. The vision of Harry disappeared from his cell. And Sirius was all alone.
That's it! I hope you guys enjoyed this little one-shot turned six-chapter saga! Don't forget to drop a review. It's the last time I'll be able to hear feedback on this story and I would truly appreciate it. Us writers put in a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into these stories. It takes hours upon hours of planning and writing to get a chapter ready for posting. And it's all free to you the reader. The least you can do is let an author know your thoughts. It only takes an extra few minutes. It keeps writers writing and stories from being abandoned. So, please, drop a review every once and a while and ALWAYS review the final chapter of a story.
Those of you who follow me on tumblr know that I have been planning Backstabber to be turned into a series. The next story in this series will be called Brumous (which takes place in Harry's fifth year and is the true beginning of my Sirius' lives AU) and I am aiming to start posting it in early November. I have a prequel planned as well called Bête Noire that I also plan to start posting in November. Hope you guys will stick around for the ride!
Special thanks to Bell for all of her help. She's a rockstar and these stories would never see the light of day without her. She's not only a fantastic editor, but she's also my sounding board and enabler to not abandon any idea. Special thanks to funbunnypotter as well. She is a constant Britpicker for me and she's been my prereader this entire story, hyping me up with her live commentary and showering me with encouragement. The both of them are truly special and amazing friends as they listen to my crazy ideas, my rants, my fears, and my whines about literally everything under the sun.