Unforgivable
Chapter Three: Discontent, Decisions, and Demands
James leaned backwards in his seat, hands shaking, and looked across at Peter. Silence had been the key element in the common room for the four hours since Dumbledore had left, both of them sitting wordlessly, thinking or staring blankly into the fire.
"Now what?" Peter said at last, throat dry, meeting James' hazel eyes with his own watery blue ones and shifting in his chair.
There was a long moment of silence. Peter looked away from his friend's sharp, piercing gaze and James sighed, looking away and closing his eyes in weariness.
"I don't know."
Peter stood up, trembling.
"He could end up in Azkaban, James."
"I know."
"He could be there for years."
"I know."
"He could die."
James nodded slowly with his eyes closed.
"If they find out he's an Animagus they might find out we are too."
"I know. They might come to arrest us too. It's unavoidable, Peter. There's nothing we can do."
Peter looked out the window. Dim rays of sunlight were beginning to filter through and there were the sounds of birds chirping and twittering. After another silence, he spoke again, voice soft and wavering.
"Do you think they've got him yet?"
James didn't look at Peter as he responded in a hard voice.
"I don't care." Peter turned around in astonishment to look at him and James returned his stare fiercely. "Is any of this sinking in, Peter? Look at what he's done! He's a murderer. He used us. He used Remus as a weapon. He didn't slip up this time. This is what he wanted to happen, don't you see? He wanted to kill Snape. Everything went exactly as planned, and where's it gotten him? What good has it done? Remus is somewhere, wandering around, mad and unarmed. Snape is dead. He himself is a criminal, wanted by the law. And us? Did he think of us at all? He may say he did this as revenge for what Snape did to me. He may say that. But did he think of what the consequences would be? It's just the two of us now, Peter. He and Remus are. we're never going to be all together again. The Marauders are broken, and he broke them. Can't you see that?"
Peter was still for a moment. Then he stood up and said in a small, strained voice, "Right," and raced away up the stairs towards the boys' dormitory.
James curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Suddenly, despite the fire, he felt cold.
Peter came down five minutes later, wearing plain robes and with a lumpy school bag. He didn't speak, just walked over to the portrait hole. As he reached out his hand to open it, however, James spoke from near the fire, not turning around.
"You're going to get caught."
"Not if I can help it," Peter snarled, clearly furious.
"You'll be seen. The teachers are up by this time, the ghosts are everywhere. You won't get far."
"I'll get as far as I can. What do you care? One of your friends might get in trouble and you actually care?"
"My only friend."
"What about Remus?" Peter said, his voice rising, face flushed. "You going to call him a murderer now too? You going to pretend you don't care about what happens to him? You going to let him wander alone and insane and unarmed through the countryside, through London, wherever he is? You going to try to forget you were ever his friend? Once they're in trouble, just drop them, you don't care anymore. As long as it's you that's in trouble and them who're getting you out, that's fine, but the other way 'round -"
"Shut up, Peter," James said softly.
"HE WASN'T JUST YOUR BEST FRIEND, JAMES!" Peter screamed. "YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO'S LOST THEM!"
"I said shut up," James repeated, turning around. Peter fell silent suddenly. Tears were glistening on both their faces. "Now, if you'll kindly have some patience, I'll go get my things. As I was saying, you won't get anywhere at this time. Not, at least, unless you happen to have an Invisibility Cloak."
_-_-_
Sirius had not been the only one who could take no more.
Regulus knew his parents had the right idea for most things, but when it came to Sirius they saw only a scar to the family name. So he had been an Animagus, and was now on the run from the law? His parents were ashamed.
And as much as Sirius may have hated his younger brother, Regulus was worried about him.
His parents couldn't have cared about their oldest son's well-being as long as he didn't tarnished the name of Black any more than he had already.
But Regulus cared. The moment he had seen his brother vanish and the black dog appear in his place, he had thrown ambition and honor and tradition to the winds. He had to find Sirius. If he needed help, he could not be without it.
Of course, Sirius would never admit it if he needed help. But neither would he deny it. And now his wand was reduced to fragments of wood.
Regulus, however, could still perform magic. He set out silently not five hours after Sirius, and purposely disobeyed his father's final order.
He did not fix the window.
_-_-_
Peter, crammed next to James underneath the cloak, had a feeling that his friend's brisk, cold attitude was going to last some time.
He had only told the truth. He had only said what he was thinking.
And it had worked, hadn't it? James had seen sense and come along. But the chill was still there. Peter wished that despite that James would even look at him, even if the look was angry and harsh.
Peter wished everything could be as it was before. But no, James was right. Sirius had made sure that it would always be different.
They walked right past the library, where a copy of the Daily Prophet had just come in. But they didn't hear Madam Pince's gasp as she read the headline, and perhaps it was for the better.
Chapter Three: Discontent, Decisions, and Demands
James leaned backwards in his seat, hands shaking, and looked across at Peter. Silence had been the key element in the common room for the four hours since Dumbledore had left, both of them sitting wordlessly, thinking or staring blankly into the fire.
"Now what?" Peter said at last, throat dry, meeting James' hazel eyes with his own watery blue ones and shifting in his chair.
There was a long moment of silence. Peter looked away from his friend's sharp, piercing gaze and James sighed, looking away and closing his eyes in weariness.
"I don't know."
Peter stood up, trembling.
"He could end up in Azkaban, James."
"I know."
"He could be there for years."
"I know."
"He could die."
James nodded slowly with his eyes closed.
"If they find out he's an Animagus they might find out we are too."
"I know. They might come to arrest us too. It's unavoidable, Peter. There's nothing we can do."
Peter looked out the window. Dim rays of sunlight were beginning to filter through and there were the sounds of birds chirping and twittering. After another silence, he spoke again, voice soft and wavering.
"Do you think they've got him yet?"
James didn't look at Peter as he responded in a hard voice.
"I don't care." Peter turned around in astonishment to look at him and James returned his stare fiercely. "Is any of this sinking in, Peter? Look at what he's done! He's a murderer. He used us. He used Remus as a weapon. He didn't slip up this time. This is what he wanted to happen, don't you see? He wanted to kill Snape. Everything went exactly as planned, and where's it gotten him? What good has it done? Remus is somewhere, wandering around, mad and unarmed. Snape is dead. He himself is a criminal, wanted by the law. And us? Did he think of us at all? He may say he did this as revenge for what Snape did to me. He may say that. But did he think of what the consequences would be? It's just the two of us now, Peter. He and Remus are. we're never going to be all together again. The Marauders are broken, and he broke them. Can't you see that?"
Peter was still for a moment. Then he stood up and said in a small, strained voice, "Right," and raced away up the stairs towards the boys' dormitory.
James curled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Suddenly, despite the fire, he felt cold.
Peter came down five minutes later, wearing plain robes and with a lumpy school bag. He didn't speak, just walked over to the portrait hole. As he reached out his hand to open it, however, James spoke from near the fire, not turning around.
"You're going to get caught."
"Not if I can help it," Peter snarled, clearly furious.
"You'll be seen. The teachers are up by this time, the ghosts are everywhere. You won't get far."
"I'll get as far as I can. What do you care? One of your friends might get in trouble and you actually care?"
"My only friend."
"What about Remus?" Peter said, his voice rising, face flushed. "You going to call him a murderer now too? You going to pretend you don't care about what happens to him? You going to let him wander alone and insane and unarmed through the countryside, through London, wherever he is? You going to try to forget you were ever his friend? Once they're in trouble, just drop them, you don't care anymore. As long as it's you that's in trouble and them who're getting you out, that's fine, but the other way 'round -"
"Shut up, Peter," James said softly.
"HE WASN'T JUST YOUR BEST FRIEND, JAMES!" Peter screamed. "YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO'S LOST THEM!"
"I said shut up," James repeated, turning around. Peter fell silent suddenly. Tears were glistening on both their faces. "Now, if you'll kindly have some patience, I'll go get my things. As I was saying, you won't get anywhere at this time. Not, at least, unless you happen to have an Invisibility Cloak."
_-_-_
Sirius had not been the only one who could take no more.
Regulus knew his parents had the right idea for most things, but when it came to Sirius they saw only a scar to the family name. So he had been an Animagus, and was now on the run from the law? His parents were ashamed.
And as much as Sirius may have hated his younger brother, Regulus was worried about him.
His parents couldn't have cared about their oldest son's well-being as long as he didn't tarnished the name of Black any more than he had already.
But Regulus cared. The moment he had seen his brother vanish and the black dog appear in his place, he had thrown ambition and honor and tradition to the winds. He had to find Sirius. If he needed help, he could not be without it.
Of course, Sirius would never admit it if he needed help. But neither would he deny it. And now his wand was reduced to fragments of wood.
Regulus, however, could still perform magic. He set out silently not five hours after Sirius, and purposely disobeyed his father's final order.
He did not fix the window.
_-_-_
Peter, crammed next to James underneath the cloak, had a feeling that his friend's brisk, cold attitude was going to last some time.
He had only told the truth. He had only said what he was thinking.
And it had worked, hadn't it? James had seen sense and come along. But the chill was still there. Peter wished that despite that James would even look at him, even if the look was angry and harsh.
Peter wished everything could be as it was before. But no, James was right. Sirius had made sure that it would always be different.
They walked right past the library, where a copy of the Daily Prophet had just come in. But they didn't hear Madam Pince's gasp as she read the headline, and perhaps it was for the better.
