A/N: Everytime I think this story is done, another chapter invades my brain. This chapter features our favorite rat.
By the way, after looking up the actual dates of the full moons in 1979, I've gone back and changed some dates in the story.
This chapter is dedicated to CLS for giving me the guts to say, "OK, let's keep the story going beyond Chapter Three."
Disclaimer: Peter Pettigrew, those who think he is their friend, and their magical world belong to J.K. Rowling.
Cave Canem
Chapter Five: Playing Both Sides
"I really have to stop reading the Daily Prophet," Peter thought as he scanned an article on the latest family to fall victim to Lord Voldemort. "Just gives me nightmares." A slight rustle of fabric in the doorway and shadow falling across his desk caused Peter to gasp in fear and drop the newspaper.
"Sorry, Peter," I didn't mean to startle you," Lily said as she came into the office Peter shared with one other clerk in the Department of Magical Transportation. "I guess we're all a bit jumpy these days." Peter had never seen Lily "jumpy" and he blushed in embarrassment that she had seen him so.
"I was just caught up in what I was reading, I guess."
Lily read the upside down headline and sighed sadly. "Yes, I read about the Weston family this morning. Those poor children."
"At least they didn't torture the children," Peter offered, "unlike the parents." As terrified as Peter was of death, pain terrified him even more. Everett Hollings, the other clerk who shared his office had once described the Cruciatus Curse in such vivid detail that Peter had no doubts that Hollings had witnessed it. As victim? As torturer? Both? Peter didn't want to know.
Lily nodded sadly and then forced a smile as she put a white box tied with red string on Peter's desk. "I felt domestic this morning and made some of those pumpkin muffins that you and James like so much. Just perform a warming charm before you eat them; they taste better warm."
"Thanks, Lily," Peter said as he untied the string and lifted the lid to peek at the deep-brown muffins. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to. I knew I had a meeting this morning in the building next to yours, so— Speaking of which," Lily pulled back the sleeve of her copper-colored robe and looked at her watch, "I've got to fly. Bye, Peter!"
"Bye, Lily."
The happiness brought Lily brought into the office with her impromptu gift was short-lived. Apprehension replaced it as Hollings came back to the office a moment later. Hollings had made his feelings about Muggle-borns all too clear, and Peter was afraid that he had seen Lily leave. Peter knew he was safer if people didn't associate him too closely with Muggle-borns or with those actively opposing Voldemort. Of course, anyone who knew him at Hogwarts knew who his friends were, so it was probably too late.
"Would you like a muffin, Hollings?"
Hollings stood in the doorway gazing in the direction Lily had gone. "Did that Mudblood Evans make them?"
"Actually, her last name is Potter now." Peter folded up the Daily Prophet and prepared to return to his work.
"That's what disgusts me about Mudbloods," Hollings said in a voice dripping with scorn. He entered the office and sat on the edge of Peter's desk. "They come in and pollute the bloodlines of old wizarding families like the Potters. Unless something is done, we pure-bloods will become an endangered minority."
Peter made a noncommittal, "Hmmm," as he began to read a letter from the Department of Magical Games and Sports and took notes on the number and locations of portkeys they were requesting for an upcoming professional Quidditch match. Hollings was not to be deterred from the conversation so easily.
"When a pure-blood like your friend Potter chooses to marry a Mudblood, he becomes a traitor to our kind." Hollings picked up the Daily Prophet. "Just like the witch in this family. That's why she died with her Muggle husband and their half-breed brats."
Peter felt his blood run cold and struggled to keep his hand steady as he wrote. Hollings made no secret of his bias against Muggles and Muggle-borns. He even expressed approval of some actions taken by the Death Eaters, but he always stopped short of admitting any involvement. Was he about to go that far now? Peter had long suspected that his officemate was a Death Eater, but he preferred not to know for certain.
"Of course," Hollings said as he dropped the newspaper in front of Peter, the portrait of a family now dead smiling and waving at him, "I'm only guessing that was the reason. It's not like I was actually there." He laughed then, and Peter suddenly imagined Hollings laughing as he looked down at the corpses of the Weston family.
Hollings returned to his own desk chair and Peter tried to focus on his work. The sound of his quill scratching across the parchment seemed unusually loud as Peter stared down at the work before him. Not a sound came from Hollings, no scratching of a quill, no shuffling of parchment. Peter could feel Hollings's eyes boring into him.
"It isn't too late for your friend you know."
"What?" Peter looked up at this strange statement.
"They haven't been married long, and there are no children, yet. If something were to happen to the Mudblood, perhaps while she is home alone, people might be inclined to give him a second chance. Hopefully, he'll choose a bride more wisely next time." Hollings looked away from Peter and unrolled a parchment on his own desk. "A true friend would want him to have a second chance."
"He wants me to tell him when Lily will be home alone," Peter realized. Of course Peter knew—he knew very well. The next full moon was only a week away, and Lily would be home alone all night while James, or rather Prongs, would be with Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail. "He's crazy. I won't hand Lily over to him, not even to save James." Hollings had hinted that he needed certain pieces of information before, and if it was innocuous enough, such as warning him that an certain abandoned cottage on a Scottish moor was being watched, Peter had complied. It was worth it to stay safe. But this—this was asking too much.
Hollings interrupted his reverie. "You can't play both sides of the street forever, Pettigrew. Sooner or later, you'll have to choose a side. The smart man chooses the side that will keep him alive. Just think it over. Potter's life might not be the only life you save."
"This was the moment Peter had been dreading. His life was being threatened. Peter had to choose between his own life and another's, between his life and Lily's. "There has to be a way to save all of us. It'll just take planning, like a really elaborate, high-stakes prank. And if there isn't a way to save all of us— I'll face that when the deadline comes. Deadline. How appropriate."
The rest of the day passed in a bizarre imitation of normality. Peter and Hollings each did their work. Hollings asked Peter if he wanted to accompany him for lunch; Peter declined, and Hollings did not press. Later, Hollings politely offered to get Peter a cup of tea when he got one for himself; Peter accepted but did not drink it. He was almost able to forget that Hollings had threatened his life. Almost.
Peter was counting down the last quarter of an hour until he could leave for the day and escape Hollings's scrutiny when there was a soft knock at the office door. Peter looked up to see Remus leaning against the doorjam.
"Hi, Peter. Are you almost done work?"
"My, you certainly are the popular one today, aren't you, Pettigrew?" Hollings chuckled. "Go ahead and take off. I'll cover for you if the boss pokes his head in the door."
"Thanks," Peter murmured as he quickly straightened up his desk and put items away. Peter was on his way out the door when Hollings called him back.
"Don't forget your muffins, Pettigrew." He laughed as Peter flushed and grabbed the box. Remus half-cocked his head and raised his eyebrows slightly—a look Peter easily recognized as Remus's "I'm dying to ask, but I won't pry" look.
"Lily made them," Peter explained quickly as they headed for the stairs. He didn't want Remus to develop any incorrect ideas about secret admirers bestowing baked goods. "Not that Remus would tease me. He's the only person I know who's dated less than I have."
"Do you have time to talk?" Remus asked. "I could use your advice about something."
"Sure. Fortescue's? or the Leaky Cauldron?"
"Whichever you prefer."
"Fortescue's it is," Peter said as they headed away from the governmental district and toward the shops of Diagon Alley. "So, how is work going, Remus?"
"Funny you should ask. As of two and a half hours ago, I'm unemployed, again," Remus replied with false cheer.
"Why?" Peter exclaimed.
Remus laughed quietly. "I think the main reason given was that I'm a filthy, disgusting beast who should be locked up or destroyed instead of being allowed to pretend I'm a normal human being."
Peter knew only he would hear this unedited version of what had been said. Sirius and James would get a much tamer version lest they become inspired to hex Remus's former employer.
"No, I mean—why now?" Peter clarified. "Usually you get fired right after a full moon, when they when you've been absent."
Remus shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his robe and sighed. "My new, dear friend, Morris Burdock of the Werewolf Registry, decided to pay me a visit at work."
"Oh shit, Remus. He's just going to keep making your life hell, isn't he?"
"He'll lose interest in me eventually—I hope." Remus grabbed the handle of the ice cream parlor door but paused before opening it. "Don't tell Sirius that Burdock had anything to do with me being fired."
"I won't—I'm not crazy."
Remus pulled open the door, and Peter smiled at the familiar cheerful jingle of the bell over the door. Fortescue's was the only shop in Diagon Alley that Peter knew of with this particular Muggle affectation, so the sound always made him think of ice cream and the less stressful days of childhood.
"Welcome, gentlemen. What would you like today?" Florean Fortescue asked with a smile.
"I'd like a cone, one scoop of Caramel and one of Spicy Pumpkin," Peter replied as he pulled his money bag out of a pocket. Fortescue scooped up the desired flavors and handed the cone over the counter to Peter.
"And you, Sir?" he asked Remus.
"No thank you," Remus replied.
"Come on, Remus. My treat," Peter urged. Seeing Remus's embarrassed hesitation, he added, "You deserve something to go your way today. You can have chocolate."
Remus grinned and nodded. "One scoop of Double Chocolate in a cone, please."
After Remus got his cone and Peter had paid, Remus led the way to a table by the ice cream parlor window, the table farthest from the counter and from Fortescue. Peter surmised that Remus didn't want Fortescue to overhear.
"I'm glad I caught you at work," Remus said. "I didn't want to bother you at home." Peter nodded. They both knew that Mrs. Pettigrew's opinion of Remus wasn't much better than his former employer's.
"So, what did you want to ask me?" Peter began. "I'm afraid I don't have any job leads right now."
"No, it's nothing to do with that. In fact, I decided to come talk to you before I got fired." Remus licked around the edge of his cone and stayed silent for a minute.
Peter ate his own ice cream and waited. When Remus found something difficult to discuss, it was best to let him tell it in his own way. But Peter did wish he would hurry up; he didn't want to hear his own thoughts. "Pumpkin ice cream—pumpkin muffins—Did that Mudblood Evans make them?—perhaps while she is home alone—alone for the full moon— can't play both sides of the street forever—"
"The truth is, Peter, I'm really worried about the full moon next week."
"What!" Peter flushed with guilt at his own thoughts. Then calming himself, he asked, "Why?"
"It's because of what happened last month. I've been having nightmares almost every night since. It's the same dream every time. I relive the night I almost killed Severus and James in the tunnel." Remus returned his attention to the melting ice cream. Peter couldn't see the connection, but he waited for Remus to explain. "But in my dream, I kill James. I think the wolf is angry at James for stealing away his prey." Remus saw the puzzled expression on Peter's face and explained quietly. "Last month, I was locked in a cell with a human. The wolf knew it; he knew he would finally make a kill. Then just before moonrise, James arrived and—" Remus shrugged and took a bite of the cone.
"And you're dreaming about the night in the tunnel—"
"Because it's the same situation. The wolf would have killed Severus if James hadn't interfered."
Peter nodded. "Twice. No wonder the wolf is pissed. So the question is, will the wolf attack Prongs? Will the wolf recognize that Prongs is James?"
"I think I might. After all, no offense meant, but rats and deer are both prey animals. The simple fact that I don't try to make you dinner must indicate that I recognize you in some fashion. I may simply recognize that Prongs is my packmate, or I may recognize that Prongs is James and thus my packmate. I think it's the former, but the risk that it's the latter is too great. I can't take the chance."
"What are you going to do?"
Remus finished his cone and banished his napkin to a nearby trashcan. "I'm going to spend the night at my mum's, in the shed. I sent her an owl this morning."
"You've already decided," Peter said in surprise. "What did you need to ask me?"
Remus smiled wryly. "How do I tell James and Sirius? I hate to tell James that I've been dreaming about killing him. And I really hate to tell Sirius. Not only will he be freaked out on James's behalf, but he'll find a way to make it all his fault. Anything connected to Burdock he considers his fault."
Peter said the first thing that came to mind, "Don't tell them. Lie."
"Lie to James and Sirius?" Remus looked surprised but not shocked at this advice.
Peter laughed. "Yes, Remus 'I have to visit my sick mother' Lupin should tell a lie. Don't tell me you've forgotten how."
"O.K.," Remus rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. "Now I just have to come up with a convincing lie. I don't think they'll fall for the sick mother story this time."
Peter suddenly realized that he had a possible solution to his own dilemma. A way to seem to hand over Lily to Hollings, but ensure that she'd be safe. And if the plan didn't protect her, it would at least deflect suspicion off Peter.
"Whatever you come up with, Remus, don't tell them until the last possible minute."
"Why not?"
"You don't want to give them time to talk you out of it, or to look into your story too closely. In fact, let the rest of us gather at James and Lily's as usual, but instead of you arriving, an owl arrives with your excuse."
* * * * *
Hollings left Peter alone for the remainder of the week, but Peter knew it wasn't out of kindness. Hollings was allowing the tension to build. By Friday morning, Peter had become quite anxious. The full moon was Monday night, and he had to speak to Hollings before that. However, he needed Hollings to bring the subject up. Peter didn't want to seem overly eager to share the information. Fortunately, Hollings seemed to think that he had given Peter enough time to stew. Just one hour into the workday, Hollings suddenly shut the office door with a wave of his hand.
"So, Pettigrew, have you decided whose lives are worth more to you?"
"Do you promise nothing will happen to James?" The words "or to me?" were unspoken, but just as real to both men as the spoken ones.
Hollings rose from his own desk and sat on the edge of Peter's. With a touch, he lit one of the candles on Peter's desk. In a soft voice, he said, "Sooner or later, someone will go to their home. If both are home—" Hollings slowly passed his hand over the flame, "but if only the Mudblood is home—"
Peter was silent for a few moments. He wanted to give the impression that he was struggling with his conscience. "James is planning to go out Monday night with me and two other friends."
"When?"
"We'll go out around six-thirty and stay out for at least a couple of hours."
"There are wards and protective spells around their house." It was not a question. Peter nodded and swallowed hard. "What do you know about them?"
"Not very much," Peter admitted. Hollings picked up the candle and tipped it, dripping hot wax on Peter's hand.
"All I know it that James, Lily, and Remus each did some," Peter added quickly. "I know that Remus set up a ward that recognizes certain people and allows them in. Anyone else has to be invited in by someone inside."
Hollings returned the candle to the desk. "Does it recognize you?"
"Yes, but—but I'm supposed to be with James." Peter felt a sharp tug as Hollings pulled out a few strands of his hair. "Polyjuice potion," he thought. "I wonder if that will fool the ward. I can't exactly ask Remus."
"Well, Peter," Hollings said in a cheerful voice as he returned to his own desk. "You've earned a reward. Is there any problem you need solved?"
"No, I don't think—" Peter suddenly realized that he didn't have a problem, but Remus did. "Actually, I would be very happy if a certain Ministry employee were convinced to retire early."
"Me?" Hollings laughed.
"I wouldn't mind that," Peter admitted, "but the person I meant is named Morris Burdock. He works for the Werewolf Registry."
"Done. What do you have against him—or, rather, what does he have against you?"
"That's my business," Peter said as he waved his wand at the office door to open it again.
* * * * *
"Come on in, Peter. James and Sirius are in the kitchen burning dinner," Lily said as she opened the front door. The last part was said loudly enough to carry back into the kitchen.
"I heard that, Lily! Just for that, no venison for you!" Sirius shouted back.
"Venison?" Peter pulled off his cloak and allowed Lily to hang it in the closet.
"He's just teasing James. We're having roast beef."
"Yum, and roasted potatoes?" Peter asked as they both walked into the kitchen.
"Of course," James replied. "After all, we can't let the carnivores have all the fun, can we, Wormtail?"
"Don't worry, Spikehead," Sirius laughed. "I'm making a salad. Don't want you to commit cannibalism by eating the venison. Oh sure, Lily says it's beef, but she can't fool me."
"Where's Remus?" Peter asked as he watched Sirius tearing lettuce into pieces.
"He spent the weekend at his mum's, helping her put the garden to bed for the winter. He didn't have to hurry back for work," Sirius frowned at this, "so he said that he'd be back sometime today. I'm actually surprised he isn't here already."
As if on cue, an owl tapped at the window. James was sitting on the counter near the window and reached over to open it. The owl flew in, dropped an envelope into the salad bowl, and flew out. Sirius read the envelope silently, opened the letter, and read aloud.
"Dear Everyone,
Sorry I'm not there. I planned to leave today, but Mum insists that I stay for a few more days. She told me to give her one good reason why I should spend the full moon at your house instead of here. I've got a good reason, three good reasons, in fact, but I can't tell her that. So…I'm stuck here. Feel free to cook the meat beyond rare, Lily. I'm not there to complain that it's overcooked.
Missing you all more than you know, Remus
P.S. I really wish I were there to have some venison."
Peter felt a brief moment of shock at the post-script before he realized that Sirius had ad-libbed it. "He wouldn't have said that if he knew the real reason Remus isn't here. Well, Stage Two of the plan begins."
"Damn. Poor Remus," James sighed. "He hates that shed." Lily moved closer to James, and he put an arm around her. Sirius resumed tearing lettuce, more forcefully this time.
"Let's go there," Sirius said suddenly. "We can't let him be alone."
Peter felt a brief moment of panic. "That's not the plan."
"You know you can't, Sirius," Lily said sadly. "Mrs. Lupin would want to know why you're there."
"So, we'll tell her," Sirius snapped. "She's experienced at keeping secrets."
James shook his head. "Remus made it clear that he'd prefer to stay there alone rather than tell his mum about us, but you get to decide it's O.K. to tell her. No."
"Even if she did know that we're animagi, you know she'd insist that Remus be locked up for the night," Peter pointed out. "If she were even to suspect that he hasn't really been spending the full moon in James and Lily's cellar, she'd never let him out of her sight for the full moon again."
"Damn," Sirius said under his breath.
"Crisis averted," Peter thought with relief. Then he smiled and said, "Well, since Mr. Moony can't be with us, I vote that Mrs. Prongs should be the fourth member of our party on our outing tonight."
Lily smiled back. "Thank you, Mr. Wormtail, but traipsing around the woods at night does not appeal to me."
"That wasn't what I had in mind. After all, we do the outdoor thing for Mr. Moony's benefit. Tonight, we should do something that appeals to Mrs. Prongs. A Muggle movie, perhaps?"
"Ooh—" she looked up at James with a smile. "I haven't been to a movie in ages."
"May I throw popcorn at people?" Sirius asked.
* * * * *
Between the movie and the pub afterward, Peter managed to keep Lily and James away from their house from six-thirty until almost eleven o'clock. He stood in the front hall of his mother's house staring at the grandfather clock.
"I hope we stayed out long enough. I hope the Death Eaters came and went. I hope they didn't wait for them to return. I hope Hollings believes me tomorrow when I explain that our plans changed at the last minute. God, I hope he believes me tomorrow."
"Peter! Peter, are you there?"
Peter jumped at the sound of Sirius's voice coming from the living room and quickly hurried in. Sirius's head was floating in the flames of the fireplace.
"What's wrong, Sirius?"
"Just come to the flat right away. James and Lily are here. They—just come over—please."
"O.K., let me grab my cloak." A few moments later, Peter was standing outside the door to Sirius and Remus's flat. Sirius opened the door before he could even knock.
"Come on in, Peter."
James and Lily were sitting on the sofa still wearing their jackets over the Muggle clothes they had worn out for the evening. He had one arm wrapped around her, pulling her close, and was holding her hand with his other hand. A sheet of long hair obscured Lily's face as she sat with her head tipped down against James's shoulder. James looked over the top of her head at Peter and nodded slightly in acknowledgement. The usual sparkle was absent from his eyes, his skin was pale, and there was a hard set to his jaw.
"I've never seen him so tense," Peter thought. "Yes I have. He looked like this when Remus had to face the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures." "What happened?" Peter asked. "How close was it?"
"Someone tried to break into our house while we were out," James replied. He tried to sound calm, but Peter knew him too well to believe it. "They got through about half of the wards."
"Someone?" Peter asked as he sank into a chair.
"Death Eaters don't leave their calling card unless they've been successful," Sirius growled. "But who else?"
Lily pulled her hair back behind her ear as she lifted her head and looked at Peter. Her eyes and nose were red. "They killed Uther. He was out hunting and must have come home while they were there." Uther, a barn owl, had been one of the first gifts James had given Lily.
"Thank God you weren't home," Peter told her. James pulled Lily tighter and closed his eyes. "I guess we should thank Remus for staying at his mum's. If we hadn't changed our plans—"
"We know, Peter," Sirius said sharply. Then in a softer voice, he addressed James and Lily. "Why don't you two go to bed. Peter and I will stay up." Peter nodded emphatically. He had no qualms about being on guard duty. He knew the danger was past, for tonight at least.
James nodded once. "Come on, Lily." They rose from the sofa and went hand in hand into Remus's room. Peter waited until the door closed before he spoke again.
"Which wards did they get through?"
Sirius shook his head. "I didn't ask. We'll sort it out in the morning." Sirius sank onto the sofa, into James's vacated place. Sighing, he dropped his head and raked his fingers through his hair.
"I was just wondering if they were the ones Remus set up," Peter persisted.
Sirius looked up sharply and fixed Peter with an icy glare. "Why?" he demanded.
Peter knew he had touched a nerve—even more easily than he expected. "Well—uh—because Remus set up virtually the same ones here and at my house. And if they can get through them—"
"Oh." Sirius relaxed somewhat. "We'll find out tomorrow."
Peter decided to embed the suspicion deeper. "Do you think they knew Lily would be home alone tonight?"
"No," Sirius shook his shaggy head, "we're the only ones who know that Lily's always alone for the full moon." Peter saw a brief flicker of panic in Sirius's eyes as he realized the implication of what he had just said.
"You're right," Peter agreed. "They were probably after both James and Lily." "Should I push further?" he wondered. "Yes, better they suspect Remus than me." Peter stood and moved nearer the photo Lily had taken of the full moon. "But still, she's more vulnerable alone, and she would have been alone tonight. Thank God that Remus changed his mind at the last minute," he paused, "and stayed at his mum's."
* * * * *
Peter awoke to the sound of tapping; an owl wanted to be let in at the window. Peter watched Sirius open the window and pay the bird for the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. Peter stood up from the chair slowly and stretched his neck from side to side. "Oh, it's stiff. Shouldn't have slept in a chair."
"When did I fall asleep?"
"A couple of hours ago," Sirius replied. "I made some coffee. Do you want some?"
"I'd rather have tea." Sirius started toward the kitchen. "Sit. I know where everything is. Do you want to go get some sleep?"
"No, I've got the day off, so I'll sleep later." Sirius sat at the kitchen counter and watched Peter brew his tea. "I want to be awake when James and Lily get up. I don't want James to go home without me."
"I won't," James said as he came into the room. He sat on the stool beside Sirius and gave a tense smile to his friends.
"Did you get any sleep, Jamie?" Sirius asked.
He shook his head. "Lily did. I just lay there and watched her all night. I didn't want to stop looking at her to close my eyes." Tears spilled down his cheeks as Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.
Peter grabbed another mug. "Coffee? Tea?"
"Or me?" Lily said with chuckle. They all turned to stare at her. "Sorry, Muggle joke. Man, so many things go right over your heads." Sirius vacated his stool so Lily could sit beside James. Then he went into the kitchen and grabbed a whisk.
"Ze chef will now take ze breakfast ordairs. Ze chef has been told by many beautiful ladies zat his breakfasts are superb. Of course, ze ladies are usually ravenously hungry by ze morning after zair very active nights." Lily giggled and even James smiled.
"Actually, I hate to say this," Peter said, "but I really have to go home and change. I have to be at work soon. You don't mind if I leave, do you?"
"Of course not, Peter," James said. "Staying up all night with Fido was going above and beyond the call of duty as it is. I know very well the methods of torture he devises to keep people awake."
"I only do that to you, my dear friend."
* * * * *
Hollings didn't come to work that day, much to Peter's relief and confusion. He had practiced his explanations over and over again in his mind, but there was no one to offer them to. He was just straightening up his desk in preparation to leave for the day when he heard a woman's voice in the hall.
"Hello, Everett. We missed you today."
"I wasn't feeling too well this morning, but some Fly Away Flu Potion and a nap, and now I'm feeling fine," Hollings replied. "I just stopped in to get some work to take home with me."
"Well, aren't you the dedicated one. I'm sure all your work could wait until tomorrow."
"This can't."
Peter took a deep breath as he stared at the door waiting for Hollings. He felt the outside of his pocket and made sure his wand was there. Hollings came to the doorway and stared at Peter with narrowed eyes.
"Hello, work," Hollings said quietly. "I've come to take you home with me." Peter nodded and bit his lower lip.
Another man fell into step on the other side of Peter as soon as he left the building with Hollings. He looked vaguely familiar. Peter thought he may have been at Hogwarts with him, but several years older. The three walked in silence past Gringott's and into Knockturn Alley. Just past a shop advertising, "Potions for Those Requiring Discretion," there was an unmarked grey door. Hollings tapped the door with his wand and muttered something under his breath. He then opened the door and revealed a short hallway with a staircase at the end. Peter went in and looked up the stairs. The stairs disappeared into darkness. Peter wasn't sure he could actually force his legs to climb those stairs. "Walking into my own imprisonment. This must be the way Remus feels about walking into the shed just before the full moon." Hollings then tapped the banister with his wand, twice, and spoke quietly again. The staircase shimmered before Peter's eyes and was gone. "No, still there, but now it leads down."
"After you, Pettigrew," Hollings said with a smile. Peter reached for the smooth black banister with a shaking hand and began to descend. He had just reached the point where it was too dark to see the treads when a sudden pain in the center of his back sent him flying off the stairs and crashing flat onto the floor at the base of the stairs. The impact forced the air from his lungs, and as he gasped for breath, he felt a searing pain from his ribs.
"Tsk, tsk, Everett," spoke someone already in the basement. "You might break his neck doing that. We don't want him dead—yet. Show a little patience." Peter carefully pulled himself to a crouch and looked into the darkness where he judged the speaker to be. A bright light flared directly in front of Peter and he squinted as his eyes adjusted. The man who spoke stood directly beneath the light. He wore a black cloak and his hood was pulled over his head concealing his face. Peter tried to stand, his injured ribs protesting the movement.
"Stay down!" barked the man who had accompanied Peter and Hollings through the streets. Peter fell back onto his knees and sat on his heels.
"We have a little problem, Peter," the hooded man said in a soft voice. "We couldn't get through all the wards last night. Someone did a very thorough job of protecting the Potters' house."
Peter waited nervously. "The less I say, the better."
"Everett said that you only knew how to get past one ward. Is this true?" Peter nodded. "I said, 'Is this true?' Crucio."
Every centimeter of his skin was being simultaneously sliced with flaming knives while the muscles twisted and contorted, breaking the bones they clung to. Then the feelings disappeared as swiftly as they began. Peter lay on the floor gasping for breath amazed to see that none of his limbs were broken, that none of his skin was bleeding.
"Is this true?"
"Yes," Peter gasped. "Oh God, I don't know enough for them to bother keeping me alive." "I'd tell you more if I knew it, I swear!"
"This is indeed a problem, Peter," the hooded man said sadly. "You see, we had a deal."
"A deal?" Peter pushed himself up to kneel again.
"We take care of your little problem, and you give us a Mudblood in return. We held up our end of the contract—"
"Burdock," Peter realized.
"Two werewolf associates of mine were more than happy to invite Morris Burdock to dinner last night." Hollings and his associate laughed cruelly. "But you didn't hold up your end. You didn't deliver."
"I told Hollings all I knew," Peter protested. "Hollings said that was enough."
"Everett was mistaken," the hooded man said coolly. "He has spent the day paying for his mistake. So, now we have to rectify the balance sheet. You owe us one life, Peter. Will you pay with your own? Or is there a Mudblood you can deliver to us? You have one week to pay your debt. No more.
"In the meantime, you are about to learn a little lesson about our hierarchy. The Dark Lord took out his disappointment on me, I took out my anger on Everett, and now Everett is welcome to take out his anger on you.
"Just remember to keep him alive, Everett. He has one week to live."
* * * * *
Peter watched Hollings examine the map that Peter had given him, learning where to apparate to. "Burdock was Remus's problem, and I got rid of him," Peter rationalized. "Remus owes me."
Hollings rolled up the map and nodded at Peter. Peter disapparated, and a moment later he stood in a dark garden looking at a small cottage. He saw Hollings apparate a short distance away and waited for him to draw near. Peter looked away from the cheerful warm light pouring out of the cottage windows and up to the cold light of the waning moon, almost to third quarter.
"Burdock was going to keeping torturing Remus. Remus owes me," Peter repeated. He led the way up the garden path and knocked on the door. As they waited, Peter wasn't sure if he wanted the door to open. When it did open, a woman smiled at the sight of Peter.
"Why hello, Peter!"
"Hello, Mrs. Lupin."
"Are you looking for Remus? He went back to London yesterday."
"No, I'm here to see you. This is my friend Everett Hollings."
"Come in, come in, of course. Nice to meet you, Everett."