So many reviews. Not to mention such LONG reviews. It wouldn't be right to say the same thing over and over to each of you, so I'll say it now. First off.
1) No, this not the end. It's really sort of the beginning of the fanfiction. Everything else was just a tiny interpretation of details that went too far (about 30 chapters too far). This is where the story I cooked up a year ago begins. At least, once I arrest Sirius.
2) sadly, my summary does have to do with the story.
3) yes, things will get happier. Just not right now. ;D
4) You guys have seriously affected me - directly. I used to think this was only a hobby, like an excuse for not doing my spanish homework. But the encouragement is just so OVERWHELMING. I'm starting to think that maybe I should be writing?
5) Nobody in their right mind could take credit for this an not feel awful about it. Just imagine if Rowling had wrote it. It is her story, after all.
6) Here's the chapter you wanted. I just hope it's not dissapointing, seeing as all of you are expecting a miracle out of me, or something.
That said, I'll shut up.
~~
Peter stood before the site of disaster – thunderstruck.
He'd been sure that if he'd only stayed and waited, his master would have promised him an overwhelming reward in his triumphant euphoria. But as each minute passed, Peter began to understand that something had gone terribly wrong.
He'd never seen a Killing Curse do damage like that. He was certain no one could have survived that blast. Perhaps it was intentional. Maybe it was only the Dark Lord's rage unleashed. Surely only someone like him could have done damage like this?
But just when Peter had come to the conclusion that that was all it was – that Voldemort had Disapparated as soon as he'd finished – he heard the faint, distant echo of a child's cry.
Without a doubt, he knew what that had to mean – Harry was alive, and Peter's master had left him.
His face contorted with horror. It was over for him. Voldemort had to be dead. He wouldn't have left without killing Harry Potter… and here the child was – unscathed.
In the very hour where Peter had shown his true colors and destroyed everything he'd once valued for some greater glory, the glory was gone. . . leaving the horrible parody of laughter amidst the rustle of swaying trees.
It was hard to say how long he'd stood there – thinking, planning, wondering, and dreading. But just as the moon began to set behind the tall trees in the distance, Peter heard a sound that caused him to flee.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius had been planning this visit all week. He thought it'd be better if he didn't tell Peter when he'd be checking up on him. . . that way word didn't get out. Owls were too risky, and telling him face to face only risked eavesdropping.
Besides, it wasn't like he was going to interrupt anything.
Sirius stepped up to the small house. It was run down and nestled in the middle of a thick horseshoe of trees. It didn't stand out, and you would probably never find it unless you knew it was there.
Sirius knocked, and after several minutes of silence, finally decided against it. He turned the knob, but the door was locked. Cursing under his breath, Sirius brought out his wand. Impatiently, he blew the door open. He'd only meant to unlock it, but excited nerves and growing fear had only added to the mix.
"Peter?" he called. Silence was all that answered. "You blockhead, wake up." He sprinted down the hallway. "Where are you?"
This wasn't right. It couldn't be right. It was Halloween, but Peter wouldn't go out, would he? It's not like he had any friends besides them.
Hastily, he brought out the small mirror from his pocket. James would know. . . Peter would have told him if he'd left.
"James," he said quickly.
"James!"
As a fresh wave of panic set in, Sirius Disapparated.
Instantly, his own flat was in view. He ran through clumsily, threw himself onto his motorbike, and sped off into the night. If something was wrong. . . he didn't want to think about it. . . but if there were dead bodies – or injured (he decided injured was a better word to think of) he wouldn't be able to Apparate with them.
He nearly missed the house because he'd been scoping out for an empty lot. . . but in the area there presently were no empty lots.
He lowered the bike down to where the house was supposed to be hidden. All that was there was a giant pile of rubbish – the remains of an old home blown apart.
His heart staggered, and his face went deathly white.
In the distance, he could see a large figure – a familiar figure. "Hello?" he called. The figure turned around. It was Hagrid. . . holding Harry.
It was a terrible sight. The boy's forehead was torn open, and blood was streaming down his screaming face. Sirius gasped for breath, shaking like mad.
"James?" he whimpered. Hagrid shook his head slowly, his face already wet with tears.
Sirius could feel the weight of his body bearing down intensely on his knees, which were buckling. He fell to the ground – sobbing in the cold dirt. Each cry dragged him lower and lower until he forgot that he had life in him.
He clenched his jaw tightly. "Harry," he mumbled. He still had Harry. He wearily got to his feet. Hagrid's face stretched with the effort of keeping from crying, himself.
"Got me orders from Dumbledore. Had some'un watching down the street, and they told 'im. I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm so sorry."
"Give Harry to me, Hagrid," Sirius said, not bearing to look the poor child in the face. "I'm his Godfather, I'll look after him."
Hagrid sighed. "Sorry. Dumbledore – he said Harry'd be livin' with his aunt n' uncle. Don't know why, but I think he has a plan. Don't yeh worry, he'll be safe."
Sirius suddenly lost all he had left in the world. Nodding his head numbly, he painfully accepted it. It was Dumbledore's will… It had been Dumbledore's bloody will for him, Sirius, to keep these secrets. There was only one person to find now. The gaping void in his heart only left enough space for the deepest hatred and rage he could possibly contain.
"Take my bike," Sirius said with much effort. "I won't need it anymore."
Hagrid frowned incredulously, and Sirius turned his back on his wasted life. . . destroyed, utterly wasted and destroyed, because of him.
There was only one person to find, and that person was Peter Pettigrew.
~~~~~~~~~~
Peter fled the scene when Hagrid arrived. For once, he hadn't made a mess of things, hadn't chosen the wrong side, hadn't killed his chances of success by his own stupidity. . . and yet he still was running – empty-handed, guilty, and scared beyond reason.
Things had definitely gone terribly wrong, and for once it wasn't his fault. But he would still be the one to pay. As long as Sirius was alive and well, Peter would forever be the one to pay.
He was destroyed. . . utterly wasted and destroyed.
There was only one person to find, and that person was Sirius Black.
~~~~~~~~~~
*Where would I go if I were a rat?* Sirius thought angrily. He'd been searching everywhere. He'd tried Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade – all the obvious places.
But then it hit him. Peter still had family – he'd say goodbye, wouldn't he?
No, Sirius thought. Peter didn't care about anyone. He couldn't have if he'd done something like this. But after all, maybe Peter was already dead?
The spy. The word triggered a memory in Sirius's mind. Remus.
If Peter was the spy – if he'd been all along – then there was still someone he had left. Someone he'd treated awfully. Someone who would be just as enraged to hear the news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Peter's thoughts raced. He had to find Sirius. If not to kill him, then to remove all doubt that he was the guilty one. The trouble was. . . where would Sirius go?
Certainly, he'd catch on quickly. He'd always been sharp like James.
Sirius wouldn't be accepting apologies. In fact, he was probably looking for him now. So, now all Peter had to figure out was where Sirius would *think* he was.
He tried Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley – all the obvious places. But then he thought that maybe Sirius had taken a different approach – gathering allies.
Surely, Remus would be just as enraged to hear the news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius stumbled along the street. He couldn't Apparate to the house, or else he could wake muggle neighbors, and push them into curiosity at what had made the sound outside.
At a time when Sirius felt as murderous as this, it wasn't wise to have any witnesses.
But before he could reach the street that lead into the woody area where Remus's house was hidden, he found someone already ahead of him, facing him.
"I thought I'd find you here," the person said.
"Peter," Sirius muttered fiercely. As he drew closer, he could see the wizard was smiling. Sirius wasn't sure, but he didn't want to think of the possibility that Wormtail might have something up his sleeve.
"Was it you?" Sirius asked him shakily.
Peter lifted his wand in the air. "Shall I make it known to the world?"
"I'll kill you!" Sirius said, struggling to keep his voice down. His hand inched closer to the pocket of his robes where his wand was, and Peter snapped his wrist towards Sirius, sending red sparks his way.
"Imagine killing your only proof? Shall I wake the muggles?" His wand rose higher in the air.
Sirius gave him a threatening look, and Peter smiled all the more. From his wand erupted a loud cracking sound and a flurry of red sparks that invaded the night air.
Sirius wasn't too confident with his wand, knowing he had no spell with which to block a Killing Curse. He merely separated his feet in preparation for jumping aside.
But Peter didn't strike. He made another loud cracking noise with his wand, and waited until people had poked their heads out their front doors.
Peter lowered his wand to Sirius's level, and Sirius tried to keep his own hand from shaking. He had to find the right opportunity to reach for his wand. Meanwhile, some of the more bold and curious muggles stepped out of their houses entirely.
At this point, Peter hid his wand behind his back with one hand, to give the impression that he was unarmed.
"How long has this been going on?" Sirius muttered, only loud enough for Peter to hear.
"Whatever are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Voldemort."
Peter cringed only slightly. "I had no choice," he said mildly.
"No choice?" Sirius exclaimed quietly.
"He was too powerful – I had no choice."
"A confession," Sirius bellowed to the witnesses, who frowned in bewilderment.
Peter swallowed hard, pulling something out of his pocket that Sirius couldn't identify clearly. "I can't believe you'd do this, Sirius."
"Do what?"
"You know what I'm talking about," he said, raising his voice. He closed his eyes as one steeling themself for excruciating pain. "You were their secret keeper, weren't you?"
Sirius clenched his jaw and Peter feigned a look of misery and anger. He screamed in a sobbing voice, "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"
Sirius felt the hot knives of rage pierce him. He brandished his wand, Peter cried out in pain as one of his hands slipped, and from behind his back came a blinding flash of white light.
Sirius stumbled back, shielding his ears from the deafening blow. The light left a shallow mist, which slowly faded, and Sirius could see the hazy outlines of fallen bodies. To his right he saw something scurry as a rat would, down into the sewers.
Sirius yelled out, jumping for the sewers, but narrowly missing Peter's tail. He stood, enraged and bitterly defeated. He looked up at the houses, and immediately heard muffled shrieks of fright and the sound of windows being shut.
"Damn!" Sirius muttered furiously.
He surveyed the street – or rather what was left of it. He found something crimson glinting in the moonlight, and tentatively, he approached it.
Accompanying a bloody mass of skin in the indistinct shape of a finger was a knife – a knife Sirius instantly recognized. It was the one he'd given Peter as a gift.
The irony hit him like an arrow. It was his fault. He'd given Peter everything he needed. The knife, the secrets, and his unwavering trust. It must have been the best day of the bloody rat's miserable life.
His eyes numbly traveled upwards to where the sky was lightening to a musky gray. The fog was already settling, bringing with it an eerie silence.
Amidst that silence a loud cracking sound erupted, followed by a series of more noises. People had Apparated behind him.
"Merlin's beard!" one of them said softly. "Who did this?"
Sirius laughed, noting how suspicious it must have looked to see him with his wand out, in the middle of a giant crater littered with a dozen bodies, standing over a heap of bloodstained robes and the fragment of a finger.
One of the muggles had come out, sobbing. "He did it!" she cried, pointing her accusing finger at Sirius. "He killed them all! My Robbie just came out to see. . ." She broke down next to the huddled figure of a man in pajamas.
Sirius turned around miserably, feeling dizzy – and still laughing. "Who are you?" he asked ineptly, like a drunken man. He felt as if he were going mad. He could still feel the wrenching pain that was tearing his soul and his sanity apart.
"Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Catastrophes, and you are under arrest."
"I killed them," Sirius mumbled disbelievingly as two wizards seized him with their wands. "I killed them all."
~~~~~~~~~~
1) No, this not the end. It's really sort of the beginning of the fanfiction. Everything else was just a tiny interpretation of details that went too far (about 30 chapters too far). This is where the story I cooked up a year ago begins. At least, once I arrest Sirius.
2) sadly, my summary does have to do with the story.
3) yes, things will get happier. Just not right now. ;D
4) You guys have seriously affected me - directly. I used to think this was only a hobby, like an excuse for not doing my spanish homework. But the encouragement is just so OVERWHELMING. I'm starting to think that maybe I should be writing?
5) Nobody in their right mind could take credit for this an not feel awful about it. Just imagine if Rowling had wrote it. It is her story, after all.
6) Here's the chapter you wanted. I just hope it's not dissapointing, seeing as all of you are expecting a miracle out of me, or something.
That said, I'll shut up.
~~
Peter stood before the site of disaster – thunderstruck.
He'd been sure that if he'd only stayed and waited, his master would have promised him an overwhelming reward in his triumphant euphoria. But as each minute passed, Peter began to understand that something had gone terribly wrong.
He'd never seen a Killing Curse do damage like that. He was certain no one could have survived that blast. Perhaps it was intentional. Maybe it was only the Dark Lord's rage unleashed. Surely only someone like him could have done damage like this?
But just when Peter had come to the conclusion that that was all it was – that Voldemort had Disapparated as soon as he'd finished – he heard the faint, distant echo of a child's cry.
Without a doubt, he knew what that had to mean – Harry was alive, and Peter's master had left him.
His face contorted with horror. It was over for him. Voldemort had to be dead. He wouldn't have left without killing Harry Potter… and here the child was – unscathed.
In the very hour where Peter had shown his true colors and destroyed everything he'd once valued for some greater glory, the glory was gone. . . leaving the horrible parody of laughter amidst the rustle of swaying trees.
It was hard to say how long he'd stood there – thinking, planning, wondering, and dreading. But just as the moon began to set behind the tall trees in the distance, Peter heard a sound that caused him to flee.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius had been planning this visit all week. He thought it'd be better if he didn't tell Peter when he'd be checking up on him. . . that way word didn't get out. Owls were too risky, and telling him face to face only risked eavesdropping.
Besides, it wasn't like he was going to interrupt anything.
Sirius stepped up to the small house. It was run down and nestled in the middle of a thick horseshoe of trees. It didn't stand out, and you would probably never find it unless you knew it was there.
Sirius knocked, and after several minutes of silence, finally decided against it. He turned the knob, but the door was locked. Cursing under his breath, Sirius brought out his wand. Impatiently, he blew the door open. He'd only meant to unlock it, but excited nerves and growing fear had only added to the mix.
"Peter?" he called. Silence was all that answered. "You blockhead, wake up." He sprinted down the hallway. "Where are you?"
This wasn't right. It couldn't be right. It was Halloween, but Peter wouldn't go out, would he? It's not like he had any friends besides them.
Hastily, he brought out the small mirror from his pocket. James would know. . . Peter would have told him if he'd left.
"James," he said quickly.
"James!"
As a fresh wave of panic set in, Sirius Disapparated.
Instantly, his own flat was in view. He ran through clumsily, threw himself onto his motorbike, and sped off into the night. If something was wrong. . . he didn't want to think about it. . . but if there were dead bodies – or injured (he decided injured was a better word to think of) he wouldn't be able to Apparate with them.
He nearly missed the house because he'd been scoping out for an empty lot. . . but in the area there presently were no empty lots.
He lowered the bike down to where the house was supposed to be hidden. All that was there was a giant pile of rubbish – the remains of an old home blown apart.
His heart staggered, and his face went deathly white.
In the distance, he could see a large figure – a familiar figure. "Hello?" he called. The figure turned around. It was Hagrid. . . holding Harry.
It was a terrible sight. The boy's forehead was torn open, and blood was streaming down his screaming face. Sirius gasped for breath, shaking like mad.
"James?" he whimpered. Hagrid shook his head slowly, his face already wet with tears.
Sirius could feel the weight of his body bearing down intensely on his knees, which were buckling. He fell to the ground – sobbing in the cold dirt. Each cry dragged him lower and lower until he forgot that he had life in him.
He clenched his jaw tightly. "Harry," he mumbled. He still had Harry. He wearily got to his feet. Hagrid's face stretched with the effort of keeping from crying, himself.
"Got me orders from Dumbledore. Had some'un watching down the street, and they told 'im. I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm so sorry."
"Give Harry to me, Hagrid," Sirius said, not bearing to look the poor child in the face. "I'm his Godfather, I'll look after him."
Hagrid sighed. "Sorry. Dumbledore – he said Harry'd be livin' with his aunt n' uncle. Don't know why, but I think he has a plan. Don't yeh worry, he'll be safe."
Sirius suddenly lost all he had left in the world. Nodding his head numbly, he painfully accepted it. It was Dumbledore's will… It had been Dumbledore's bloody will for him, Sirius, to keep these secrets. There was only one person to find now. The gaping void in his heart only left enough space for the deepest hatred and rage he could possibly contain.
"Take my bike," Sirius said with much effort. "I won't need it anymore."
Hagrid frowned incredulously, and Sirius turned his back on his wasted life. . . destroyed, utterly wasted and destroyed, because of him.
There was only one person to find, and that person was Peter Pettigrew.
~~~~~~~~~~
Peter fled the scene when Hagrid arrived. For once, he hadn't made a mess of things, hadn't chosen the wrong side, hadn't killed his chances of success by his own stupidity. . . and yet he still was running – empty-handed, guilty, and scared beyond reason.
Things had definitely gone terribly wrong, and for once it wasn't his fault. But he would still be the one to pay. As long as Sirius was alive and well, Peter would forever be the one to pay.
He was destroyed. . . utterly wasted and destroyed.
There was only one person to find, and that person was Sirius Black.
~~~~~~~~~~
*Where would I go if I were a rat?* Sirius thought angrily. He'd been searching everywhere. He'd tried Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade – all the obvious places.
But then it hit him. Peter still had family – he'd say goodbye, wouldn't he?
No, Sirius thought. Peter didn't care about anyone. He couldn't have if he'd done something like this. But after all, maybe Peter was already dead?
The spy. The word triggered a memory in Sirius's mind. Remus.
If Peter was the spy – if he'd been all along – then there was still someone he had left. Someone he'd treated awfully. Someone who would be just as enraged to hear the news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Peter's thoughts raced. He had to find Sirius. If not to kill him, then to remove all doubt that he was the guilty one. The trouble was. . . where would Sirius go?
Certainly, he'd catch on quickly. He'd always been sharp like James.
Sirius wouldn't be accepting apologies. In fact, he was probably looking for him now. So, now all Peter had to figure out was where Sirius would *think* he was.
He tried Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley – all the obvious places. But then he thought that maybe Sirius had taken a different approach – gathering allies.
Surely, Remus would be just as enraged to hear the news.
~~~~~~~~~~
Sirius stumbled along the street. He couldn't Apparate to the house, or else he could wake muggle neighbors, and push them into curiosity at what had made the sound outside.
At a time when Sirius felt as murderous as this, it wasn't wise to have any witnesses.
But before he could reach the street that lead into the woody area where Remus's house was hidden, he found someone already ahead of him, facing him.
"I thought I'd find you here," the person said.
"Peter," Sirius muttered fiercely. As he drew closer, he could see the wizard was smiling. Sirius wasn't sure, but he didn't want to think of the possibility that Wormtail might have something up his sleeve.
"Was it you?" Sirius asked him shakily.
Peter lifted his wand in the air. "Shall I make it known to the world?"
"I'll kill you!" Sirius said, struggling to keep his voice down. His hand inched closer to the pocket of his robes where his wand was, and Peter snapped his wrist towards Sirius, sending red sparks his way.
"Imagine killing your only proof? Shall I wake the muggles?" His wand rose higher in the air.
Sirius gave him a threatening look, and Peter smiled all the more. From his wand erupted a loud cracking sound and a flurry of red sparks that invaded the night air.
Sirius wasn't too confident with his wand, knowing he had no spell with which to block a Killing Curse. He merely separated his feet in preparation for jumping aside.
But Peter didn't strike. He made another loud cracking noise with his wand, and waited until people had poked their heads out their front doors.
Peter lowered his wand to Sirius's level, and Sirius tried to keep his own hand from shaking. He had to find the right opportunity to reach for his wand. Meanwhile, some of the more bold and curious muggles stepped out of their houses entirely.
At this point, Peter hid his wand behind his back with one hand, to give the impression that he was unarmed.
"How long has this been going on?" Sirius muttered, only loud enough for Peter to hear.
"Whatever are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about. Voldemort."
Peter cringed only slightly. "I had no choice," he said mildly.
"No choice?" Sirius exclaimed quietly.
"He was too powerful – I had no choice."
"A confession," Sirius bellowed to the witnesses, who frowned in bewilderment.
Peter swallowed hard, pulling something out of his pocket that Sirius couldn't identify clearly. "I can't believe you'd do this, Sirius."
"Do what?"
"You know what I'm talking about," he said, raising his voice. He closed his eyes as one steeling themself for excruciating pain. "You were their secret keeper, weren't you?"
Sirius clenched his jaw and Peter feigned a look of misery and anger. He screamed in a sobbing voice, "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"
Sirius felt the hot knives of rage pierce him. He brandished his wand, Peter cried out in pain as one of his hands slipped, and from behind his back came a blinding flash of white light.
Sirius stumbled back, shielding his ears from the deafening blow. The light left a shallow mist, which slowly faded, and Sirius could see the hazy outlines of fallen bodies. To his right he saw something scurry as a rat would, down into the sewers.
Sirius yelled out, jumping for the sewers, but narrowly missing Peter's tail. He stood, enraged and bitterly defeated. He looked up at the houses, and immediately heard muffled shrieks of fright and the sound of windows being shut.
"Damn!" Sirius muttered furiously.
He surveyed the street – or rather what was left of it. He found something crimson glinting in the moonlight, and tentatively, he approached it.
Accompanying a bloody mass of skin in the indistinct shape of a finger was a knife – a knife Sirius instantly recognized. It was the one he'd given Peter as a gift.
The irony hit him like an arrow. It was his fault. He'd given Peter everything he needed. The knife, the secrets, and his unwavering trust. It must have been the best day of the bloody rat's miserable life.
His eyes numbly traveled upwards to where the sky was lightening to a musky gray. The fog was already settling, bringing with it an eerie silence.
Amidst that silence a loud cracking sound erupted, followed by a series of more noises. People had Apparated behind him.
"Merlin's beard!" one of them said softly. "Who did this?"
Sirius laughed, noting how suspicious it must have looked to see him with his wand out, in the middle of a giant crater littered with a dozen bodies, standing over a heap of bloodstained robes and the fragment of a finger.
One of the muggles had come out, sobbing. "He did it!" she cried, pointing her accusing finger at Sirius. "He killed them all! My Robbie just came out to see. . ." She broke down next to the huddled figure of a man in pajamas.
Sirius turned around miserably, feeling dizzy – and still laughing. "Who are you?" he asked ineptly, like a drunken man. He felt as if he were going mad. He could still feel the wrenching pain that was tearing his soul and his sanity apart.
"Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Catastrophes, and you are under arrest."
"I killed them," Sirius mumbled disbelievingly as two wizards seized him with their wands. "I killed them all."
~~~~~~~~~~
