Note: I'm sure you all thought I'd lost my mind with the second chapter, and that I had no idea what I was doing, or how it would all come together. Well... You were right. oo; However – somehow, I managed to tie up all the loose ends, and (if I do say so myself), pretty neatly. FEAR ME! BWAHAHAH!
Another Note: .. It sort of ventures into slash, even 'though it was partially accidental. The bit with Peter towards the end, for example, was NOT purposely. The bit with Remus's inward description of Sirius in the sunlight – that was originally a lot worse... Substitute 'beautiful' for 'striking', for example, and you'll catch my drift.
They were gone, now.
Peter could not help but feel a slight tug of sadness. Lily and James, life's constants – they were dead. It was difficult, true, but now Peter Pettigrew was no longer slave to the wishes and whims of these lesser mortals. No, the one Pettigrew served was far greater than any James and Lily Potter would ever be.
Peter checked his watch. Yes, the job would be done, by now. 'The job would be /finished/,' Peter corrected mentally – his mother had had an insane obsession with proper grammar. By now, done or finished, James and Lily Potter were dead, and there were two less barriers on his master's road to immortality.
'Three,' Peter amended. He'd nearly forgotten – that annoying prophecy. Well, Harry Potter would be long finished, now, too, along with his mother and father. Peter slipped away from any remorse, and smiled, remembering that death was the present topic of contemplation. Why ruin something like that with guilt?
Sirius looked out the window blankly, the curtains drawn back. What the hell was he going to do...? Remus, a traitor. Probably not the first thing that would have come to mind.
"He sold them to Him, Sirius!"
Peter's words echoed in his mind. Sirius shook his head. How could it be? Remus couldn't be a traitor – Sirius wouldn't allow himself to believe it. "What reason does Peter have to lie?" Sirius asked himself loudly. "Nothing. He's just... Peter."
The thought that Peter might betray them was laughable – he depended on him. Many a time, Sirius had been down and out, and the mere, never doubting presence of Peter alleviated the pain. Always the first to cheer for his friends: Peter needed them. Sirius paused before he realised that he needed Peter as much as Wormtail needed him.
That was why Peter was now the Secret-Keeper.
A gnawing doubt pulsed throughout his entire being, but Sirius was not one to pause and contemplate the other obscure possibilities. Sirius was a man of impulse – Remus was the one who would reflect upon murky prospects; and now that he was...
Sunlight showered through the dirty glass, the light varied in places where it fell against Sirius's pale countenance. How was he supposed to decipher all this rubbish? Who betrayed whom, the circumstances of this and that, this happened to them, and Godric knew what else. He gave a shuddering sigh. "Damn it."
Remus sped down the street, the news on every witch and wizard's lips buzzing in his ears. "Dead?" It wasn't possible. James Potter – the first to ever care. Lily Potter – the first to understand. United, in their friendship, between themselves and with him. He took an uneven inhale.
The scarf that hung loosely about his neck fluttered away, but still Lupin did not pause. He raced down, running faster than he had ever done in his life. James and Lily were dead, and he knew who had done it. Not by his own hands, but –
He was their Secret-Keeper, and he knew it. Peter had told him everything. A soft, fond smile played about Remus's mournful features. Peter, reliable, stout, true – he, at least, knew where his loyalties lay. Peter would never turn James and Lily to You-Know-Who. Peter wouldn't just give up James, his first friend. Peter wouldn't let Voldemort have Lily, who sympathised and was kind. Peter certainly wouldn't hand a child, an infant, little more than a year old, to a murderer. Unlike another. A tear slid down Remus's cheek. Damn it all, he would kill the bastard.
The witches and wizards mingled freely in the streets with the Muggles, their fluorescent robes disproportioning against Lupin, a dull brown. A warlock garbed in a brilliant green recognised him from the crowd – "Where are you going, Lupin? Have you heard the news?" He laughed merrily. "He's done! You-Know-Who's finished!"
Remus shoved past the celebrating throng. There were more important matters, for the time being. He grimaced as the wizard made an offended sniff, and immediately quashed the sentiment of righteous indignity.
"Good evening, Mister Adams," said the kindly old woman absently, as she sat at the front desk of the apartment complex – personally, Lupin would have preferred NOT to have people scoffing at his rather unusual name. By Muggle standards, at any rate. She huffed peevishly, as Mister Adams did not bother even to reply, but rather chased down into the lift down the hall. Some people just couldn't even trouble themselves to be civil...
"Moony!"
The familiar squeak. Lupin quickly pressed the 'Open' button on the lift's controls. Peter careened down the main corridor and nearly fell over as he slid on the tile towards the lift. "Moony!" he cried again. "Have you –," he paused to catch his breath, "have you heard – James –"
"I heard," Lupin replied, curiously emotionless. "I heard, Peter."
Peter stepped into the lift, head bowed. A few moments of silence passed. Peter thought about a word of remorse – anything for a more convincing performance – but the instant he opened his mouth, Remus leaned forward and pressed the button for the seventh storey.
The sound of the noisy lift started Sirius from his thoughts.
Slowly, blankly, as 'though it simply did not matter any longer, Sirius raised his head to see who it was. In another time, another sense of being, Padfoot's gaze would have met the newcomer's immediately, probably with a flashing grin; but this was different. Already, his face was pale.
It was Remus. And Peter. Sirius didn't bother to withdraw from his full slouch. Sirius blinked. Remus had his wand out.
"Has it actually come to this?" Sirius said hoarsely. "Moony and Padfoot, coming to blows. I never would have thought it."
Remus grimaced. "Get out, Black." He did not want to see him there – in the light, his face so brilliantly pure and striking. This was not how Remus wanted to remember Sirius Black dying – Sirius Black would be in a corner, eyes mad, and mutual hatred would be passed. A good, loving Black – a just, wronged Black – it was too much like the old Sirius to be suffered. Remus raised his wand, readying to defend, but threatening all the same. "Get out!" Lupin snarled.
Peter watched from the hall, the lean figure of Remus Lupin shadowing the corridor. "Get out," Remus repeated, softer.
"I'm not leaving, Moony," Sirius replied quietly. "Not until I have the truth." He longed to shout out at him – 'Why did you do it, Remus? Why did you sell the only people who have ever cared about you?' Yet he restrained himself. It wasn't true, and he hated himself for it. Lily and James were not the only ones who had cared.
"What truth?" Remus shouted back. "WHAT TRUTH? There IS no truth!" Peter gulped. This was getting far too emotional, too quickly. 'There is no truth, Sirius!' Remus cried in his mind. 'Lies – shadow – deceit! That is all I know, or ever have!' A tear slid down Sirius's cheek.
"I'm not leaving, Moony!"
A scarlet flash of light hit Remus from behind. Peter squeaked, the power in his wand felt between his fingers almost overwhelming. "Go on, Sirius!" he cried. "I'll take care of Lupin!" Padfoot raced towards the door while he could. Take care of Lupin – had he had the time, Peter probably would have smirked to himself. That was certainly the last thing on his agenda; then again, in the more common masculine banter, to 'take care of' someone was roughly what he intended to do. Pettigrew winced. He really wouldn't know... "They all think YOU'RE the Secret-Keeper, remember? They won't suspect me, but you – you'll – run!"
Sirius paused for a moment in the doorway, watching as Peter knelt to lift Remus's head off the ground from where he fell. "Go!" Peter shouted. Sirius nodded, and blinked away what looked like tears. It could be the light, Peter reflected. Yes, light. Light didn't cause guilt.
"You're right." His voice was gravely and dry. "Thank you, Peter," Sirius said after another precious moment. "You know, I always thought of you as the weakling, but now – now..." His voice trailed off. Sirius bowed his head, dark tresses of his thick mane crossing over the paleness of his face, contrasting amazingly in the stark light from the open window.
"I'll meet you up, later," Sirius murmured. "The safe house, near Grimmauld – you remember?" Peter nodded weakly. "Hide there. I know, they'll be after me, but – no chances, right?"
Peter looked down at Lupin, whose head was supported against Peter's knee. Idly, Peter swept away a shaggy lock of golden brown from his brow. These were the ones he had betrayed, thought Peter. The only ones who had ever really, truly cared. Inwardly, he sobbed, but hastily recaptured his emotions. "Go," said Peter faintly. Sirius nodded, inhaled haltingly, and dashed down the corridor.
Note: I heart cliffhangers. oo;