By Sarah Watkins
Disclaimer: All characters herein are the property of Warner Bros and J K Rowling in disproportionate measure. This is not a profit making venture, this is FUN! No infringement, yada yada yada
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Do you know how it feels to be like this? Utterly alone?
I might be surrounded by people, by everyone from the Order - butI am alone. I shouldn't be bothered by it. After all, I thought for many years that I was the last of the Marauders. You and James dead, Sirius in Azkaban.
Just me.
Good old reliable, sensible, dependable Remus Lupin.
And nowwell, now it's happened again. The grief has returned, but everything is different.
The Order are all talking in low, hushed almost reverential voices about how Poor Harry must be feeling since Sirius passed through the veil. Poor Harry. Always Poor Harry. The phrase should be trademarked. For once, I want to be selfish.
What about poor Remus?
Not one of them has come to me yet and asked how I feel, if I'm coping with his death, whether I will miss him or notnot one. I've seen a few hesitant looks, as though someone would say somethingbut they don't. I think they have no idea how to broach the issue.
Sirius was my friend. He was unstable and volatile - true. But his heart was in the right place, and his brain was truly phenomenal. He trusted me, nurtured me, guided me when others would not.
And now he is gone, taken too soon. He was doing what he did best, I hear them whisper. He died fighting. He would have wanted to go that way. But they didn't know him. I DID know him. He never wanted to go at all. Sirius was brave, but he was afraid of death. He told us all that, one summer's day, when we were talking about what we were afraid of.
"I want to live forever," he declared. "Just to annoy the hell out of the rest of you."
Sirius, my friend - if only you had.
James has been dead these many years now. Yet my grief for his loss was renewed at the discovery that it was not Sirius who killed him, but you, Peter. Little Peter Pettigrew. The one who tagged along and whined at our heels. The one none of us ever suspected capable of such catastrophic betrayal.
And now that grief you caused me has increased tenfold through the loss of Sirius. Inadvertent or not, Peter, you are to blame for his loss just as you are to blame for James' death. Without you, Voldemort would never had regained the strength to return. Without you, Sirius would still be here. Without you, I would not be so angry.
Remember this? We swore an oath once, foolish children that we were. We thought we were so clever. Blood brothers. Closer than brothers born, we declared. Heart's blood to heart's blood. One for all, all for one. We were the four musketeers of Hogwarts.
We were fools to ever trust you, you little rodent.
I hope you're proud of yourself, Peter. You broke the oath, broke the chain, broke your promise - broke my heart.
I still can't believe you've turned truly. I still feel that there must be something good still inside you. You were a Gryffindor. You never understood what it was the Hat saw in you that placed you in our house, did you? But I did. You were always braver than people gave you credit for. Clever, devious, yes. Of that there's no doubt. Your betrayal of James and Lilly was almost unforgivable.
ButI know what it is to be quite literally bitten by the night, to be lulled by the wash of the darkness. How can I condemn you when others have been so swift to condemn me for who - for what I am in the past? Most of my life I have battled that darkness. You were always going to be the most pliable, Peter, and I should have seen it coming. I guess I just refused to believe that it could be true.
If I thought about it, I would say that you need no further punishment. I bet you regret everything you have done. But it's too late now, too late to wish you had never begun the systematic destruction of those you once called 'friend'.
Face the facts, Pettigrew.
There were four. Now there are two. And you have been responsible for both their deaths. It follows that it comes down to this.
You.
Or me.
You might have the power of the Dark Lord on your side - but can you fully trust one so perverted, so twisted? You would, wouldn't you, Peter? The strongest bully in the playground MUST be the one who wins.
But time will tell.
We will meet again soon, Peter Pettigrew. And you will be called to account for the innocent lives you have taken. Our chapter has not yet been written.
The one thing I can assure you is that it will not be a happy ever after.
Of that you
can be sure.
© S Watkins, 2003