Disclaimer - I own nothing. The Marauders hold me off with hexes and shields. I am getting depressed.
*~*
"Lumos," he muttered again, and the pale light of his wand bleakly illuminated the devastation around him. He'd entered the back way, thinking that if he'd been Lily or James, he would have fled to the opposite end of the house -
Sirius caught sight of a piece of robes from around the other side of the bookshelf that lay broken and seared on the singed carpet. Hurriedly, he picked his way through the mess.
Lily lay spread-eagled on the ground, face-up, her eyes wide, her face frozen in terror, and defiance. Brave to the end. Sirius felt sick again. She hadn't deserved such a cruel end - not Lily...
With trembling fingers, he shut her eyes, and composed her body into a less awkward position. There was still a faint trace of warmth left in her.
He'd been so close to saving them - if he'd come straightaway the moment he realized Peter was gone - he might have come in time - at least he could have died with them...
"I'm sorry, Lily," he choked out, clasping her cool hands in his. Sirius' whole body felt as cold as ice. "It's my fault for suggesting you use Peter. My fault, all of it. My fault you died. I'm so sorry..."
And still the tears would not fall.
With dread in his heart, he continued the search of the house.
Sirius found a pitifully huddled form in the remains of the living room. James lay on his stomach, wand still clenched in his hand. He dropped to his knees beside his friend's limp body, and carefully rolled him over.
The look in his best friend's dead eyes nearly made him scream.
He bit his lip hard to hold it back. The tears came now, with a vengeance. Cradling James' body, Sirius felt grief surge through him like a flood - grief, and rage. Sobbing with the heart-rending pain of losing two of his best friends, he wondered wildly: How could Peter have done such a thing - betrayed friends who'd trusted him implicitly, been responsible for the deaths of two people he'd known for so long a time? How?....
Sirius didn't know how much later it was when he found himself standing outside the Potters' house, holding his cloak around him in attempt to keep out the chill of the night, and perhaps in an even more futile attempt to keep out the chill in his soul. His mind was clearer now, and focussed on one thing: Peter was a two-faced cowardly snake. Peter would die for what he had done.
He knew that everyone who knew the Potters had had a Secret-Keeper thought that he, Sirius, was the one. Only James and Lily had known the truth. And now they were dead. Everyone believed that he, Sirius, was responsible for their deaths, and it was he they would come after. Running and hiding was useless. Better to meet his fate head-on, willingly. Better to deserve his sentence. It was very simple. He would kill Peter for what he had done. Then Sirius would be sent to Azkaban. Peter would not be able to hurt anyone else, and the Potters would be avenged. Sirius would serve time for something he felt was his fault, for even suggesting it in the first place.
But where would Peter go? Where could he be found? His old house wasn't safe - not with him knowing Sirius would be after him and out for vengeance. He could not stay with another Dark wizard - they would all hate him for being the cause, inadverdent maybe, but nonetheless the cause, of their master's downfall. Peter would want someone to look out for him - someone who could protect him, someone who trusted him still...
Remus.
Of course; that was it. Peter would go find Remus. The kind-hearted werewolf would take Peter in without hesitation, especially after Peter had filled his ears with convincing lies about Sirius' guilt. And, Sirius reasoned, Peter could always hope that if he, Sirius, did show up and catch him, Remus would attempt to reason it out, mediate, as he always had, thus giving the traitor time to conceive another escape.
Well, Sirius would just have to find Peter before he could get to Remus, that was all.
Yeh don' do anythin' stupid now. Hagrid's words admonished him again. Well, he wasn't doing anything stupid - he would be doing something that desperately needed to be done.
"If I'm going to end up in Azkaban," he told himself aloud, "I might as well deserve it."
*~*
Sirius was watching the long street that was the only approach to Remus' neighbourhood. After an hour or two of waiting and fruitless scanning of the area, he was beginning to wonder if he'd been mistaken. But where else would Peter have gone?
The street was beginning to fill up with Muggles, and Sirius began to despair of ever exacting his revenge.
And then, suddenly, he caught sight of the familiar mousy-blond head and stout form of Peter Pettigrew slinking through the crowd. He caught his breath in anticipation.
Wrath boiled in him. Sirius drew his wand and went after Peter, pushing through the crowd, heedless of who he knocked over. Now, Peter would pay for his treachery, for Lily and James' pointless deaths.
He caught up with Pettigrew, laid a hand on his shoulder and spun him around.
"Sirius..." squeaked Peter in dismay, watery ratlike eyes darting around. He was cornered. He could not get away easily. Which was exactly what Sirius wanted.
"You twisted, conniving, traitorous son of a -" breathed Sirius, barely able to stop shaking with rage. "It was you all along." His wand flicked up to Peter's face.
Peter flinched, then started sobbing loudly.
Taken aback, Sirius dropped his wand in surprise.
"You killed them!" he shrilled at the top of his lungs. "You killed them! Lily and James, Sirius! How could you? How could you?!"
Sirius, enraged, raised his wand again, but not fast enough.
The street exploded in a mass of flame and smoke. Sirius could feel the heat strike him like a physical blow. For a stunned second, he wondered hazily if he'd lost control of the magic, like he used to before he went to Hogwarts - but this was not so. For a small, fat man, Peter moved with startling swiftness. He whipped his wand out from behind his back, and with a neat Severing Charm, sliced off his index finger with a small hiss of pain. And then smoke rolled in front of him and Sirius doubled over, coughing. When he recovered, Peter was gone.
Sirius stared in horror at the devastation on the street as the smoke and flames slowly dissipated, the screaming Muggles, the bodies crumpled lifeless along the whole length of the street. Blood was everywhere, the cement cracked and collapsed right down the middle. The smell of burned flesh hung in the air.
Where had Peter gotten so much power?
Suddenly, the morbid humour of it struck Sirius. Peter had always been a poor wizard. When he'd gone over to the Dark side, Voldemort had obviously taught him a few tricks. But noone would ever believe Voldemort would want to use a weak, talentless thing like Peter. Noone would listen to Sirius, and the truth. The thing was, talented and clever as Sirius might be, he couldn't have blown up an entire street even if he'd wanted to. And the under achiever could. Their roles had been swithed unexpectedly and drastically.
Feeling slightly unhinged and light-headed at the unreality of this situation, Sirius began to laugh. He laughed to hold back his grief and bitter disappointment. He laughed, and the horrible, mirthless laughter sounded evil even to his own ears. Little Peter had been more clever than Sirius had given him credit for. Much more clever.
Crack.
The sound of dozens of wizards and witches Apparating onto the street did not disturb him. If I'm going to Azkaban, at least I know Pettigrew won't last long in this mess. Not with Voldemort gone. He's always needed someone else to look after him.
A mixture of Aurors, Hit Wizards, Magical Catastrophe officials, and Magical Law Enforcement committee members were spreading out across the street. Six cornered him, wands pointed at his heart.
"Expelliarmus!"
He stumbled, his laughter cut off abruptly as his wand flew out of his hand. This wouldn't do - he had to explain, tell the truth -
Ropes shot out of a wand and wrapped themselves tightly around him. Sirius overbalanced and fell to his knees. More rope came, gagging him.
Oh, shit, he thought bleakly.