Chapter 3: First Contact

Time for a little primal screaming, I think.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

That felt good. Didn't do much, but it felt good.

Sirius Black was frustrated.

It seems like every time I try to get close to Peter, he's with a bunch of other people, so I can't talk with him without making him seem more bonkers than he already is. Either that or he's asleep or with his slimy Master. Honestly, does he never get a minute to himself?

Four of his precious fourteen days had passed, and he hadn't gotten so much as a chance to talk with Wormtail yet. It was also proving more difficult than anticipated to keep an eye on Peter without letting Peter see him.

I may have missed my chance already. Or maybe they messed up, and no one can see me. Or they messed up and everyone can see me. Harry and Moony didn't have much trouble figuring out I was there...

He shook his head sharply. Pull yourself together, Sirius. Go have another try. It's not over until it's over.

Of course, it was supposed to be over when I went and died...

Never mind.

Assuming dog shape, he trotted into the manor house and walked nonchalantly up the wall. I've always wanted to do this.

Halfway up, he stopped and growled as Bellatrix Lestrange came hurrying down the hall, muttering to herself, her arms full of scrolls. Sirius caught only the words "plans" and "wards", and something about "whinging". Probably talking about Peter. He had that down to an art form.

As his head poked through the floor, he smelled familiar odors. Sweat. Fear. Grease. And, unmistakably, rat.

Now which room is his? I know I saw him last night... was it at this window?

He sniffed again, cautiously. Yes, his scent is strongest here. Have to be careful, if he's got someone else in the room I could ruin it all right now...

His ears registered a sound he knew. He had gotten a lot more familiar with it recently, from his daily check-ins on Harry. Someone was crying.

And that someone was inside the room he was investigating.

Even Wormtail wouldn't cry in front of the other Death Snarfers. I think I may have a winner here.

Ever so carefully, he insinuated his head through the door.

Sure enough, he had found what he was looking for. Peter Pettigrew, as little and homely as ever, was sitting on the bed sobbing into his mismatched hands. Sirius felt a momentary flash of pity for the boy he had known in school.

It was obliterated by a cold rush of hate for what this man, this rat, had done to Harry, to James and Lily, to Sirius himself, and to everyone he cared about.

Time for a little payback, Marauder-style.

He pulled his head back into the hallway, took human form, and stepped through the door.

"Hello, Peter," he said.

-----

Peter Pettigrew had been glad, ashamed of himself but glad, when he found out that Bellatrix had killed Sirius Black. He had always been afraid that Sirius – no, I can't think of him that way, it's too dangerous – that Black, then, would seek him out and take personal revenge, despite the obvious foolishness of such an act. He was, after all, an important follower of the Dark Lord himself. And now that Black was dead, the danger was past.

Still, he couldn't help but grieve, a little, and in secret, as he had grieved for what he had done fifteen years ago on Halloween, as he had grieved for the handsome boy he had killed in the graveyard on the night his Master had been resurrected. I never meant to do this with my life. I never meant for any of this to happen.

And no one will ever forgive me.

"Hello, Peter," said a voice.

Peter had been on many adventures. First as a Marauder, then as a Death Eater, then as a rat belonging to a Weasley boy (not so much with Percy, but Ron was a more venturesome type), and then finally as a Death Eater again. He had been afraid many times.

But he had never been as afraid as he was at this moment.

There was a faintly glowing, washed-out-looking version of Sirius Black leaning nonchalantly against his door.

All he could do was squeak.

"That's right, keep it down," said Sirius approvingly.

It is Sirius. But how can it be Sirius? He's dead.

"You're dead," he managed in a frantic squeal before panic closed his throat again.

"Not quite, as it happens." Sirius smiled in his most charming manner, the one he only used when he wanted something. "And there's a reason I'm here. I'm sure you remember a certain night at the Shrieking Shack a few years ago."

Peter nodded.

"I spared your life that night, Peter," Sirius went on. Peter got the sense he was choosing his words very carefully. "That means you owe me. Well, really you owe Harry, but you owe Moony and me as well."

Peter shivered. "I know." He's going to kill me, I know he's going to kill me...

"Tell me something, Wormtail. Is this really what you wanted from your life? Working for the scum of the earth, betraying your friends? We were friends, weren't we?"

Friends. My friends. I had friends once.

No. Death Eaters don't have friends.

"I thought we were friends," Sirius said persuasively. "Don't you remember full moon nights roaming the forest, days planning up pranks and jokes, all the good times we had?"

"Don't." Peter turned away. "Please, don't."

"Why not?"

"It hurts to think... about them. About what I did. I didn't want to betray them, but I didn't want to die either! And I made a choice, and it was the wrong one, and there's no way I can ever fix anything..." His voice failed, and he stuffed his sleeve into his mouth so no one else would hear him crying, crying like a baby for something done and gone beyond recall.

"There's a way you could start," Sirius said quietly.

"Start what?"

"Start fixing things. If you want to."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure you've heard all about the fight at the Department of Mysteries by now from Bellatrix. All about the archway and the veil. Right?"

Peter nodded.

"I'm beyond that veil. Or my body is. And it's still alive. If someone who owes me his life passes through the veil within the next ten days, I can return to this world, alive. That person would die to save me. Like James died, trying to save Lily, and Lily died to save Harry."

Damn him. Damn his name-dropping. James, oh Lily, god, I'm so sorry...

Ignore it. Focus on the facts, Peter. He wants you to go through that veil. He wants you dead.

No. No way. He's out of his mind.

"I saw them, by the way," Sirius added casually. "Lily and James."

Peter felt, for the second time in ten minutes, as if he'd been gut-punched. "You – how – they – "

"I was on the other side for a little while, Peter. Before I chose to come back and take this chance. And I got to see them there. They had a message for you."

Oh, right. "Go to hell, you stinking traitor." That's all I deserve from them. "What was it?"

"They said to tell you this was your big chance to make a difference. In a good way, that is. If I understood this right, over there, everyone knows the truth about everyone else, and treats them the way they deserve. In which case, I can't say as you'll get a very warm welcome when you show up. Unless."

Sirius let it hang there, maddeningly.

"Unless what?" Peter finally had to say.

"Unless you do something noble," Sirius said, looking directly at him with those disconcerting grey eyes of his, even scarier when they looked pale and slightly see-through. "Something self-sacrificing. Something good. And I'd say this counts. Think about it. You deprive Lord Snake-Face of a follower, give the other side back a man they lost." He quirked his eyebrows up for a second. "If you want extra credit, you can even tell us all about his big secret plans before you go. And don't forget the personal aspect of all this."

"Personal aspect?"

"Who have you wronged more than anyone, Wormtail? Harry. You took his parents away from him, then as soon as he got something like a parent – me – you kept us apart for the better part of two years. Oh yes, not to mention you helped revive an evil maniac who wants to kill him. And unless you help me, I'm gone for good. Harry needs someone in his life who loves him. He might make it through without me, but I'm willing to bet his chances are better with me."

Someone banged on the door. "Wormtail! Get your sorry arse out here!"

"Coming!" Peter squeaked.

"Oh, yes, just so you know, no one else will see me or hear me," Sirius said with his maddening grin. "So now you know why I'm here, and what I want. I'll give you some time to think about it. But do remember this is a limited-time offer. I'll be back later. Do me a favor and don't scream when you see me – I doubt either of us would like it if Voldie-Wart thought you were deranged. Ta-ta."

He became the great black dog – more gray in this form than black – and vanished through the wall with a bound.

Peter shivered and pinched himself. Nothing changed.

Ten days. Ten days to make a life and death decision.

About my life and death.

-----

Sirius was sitting in Harry's dorm, watching his godson listlessly try to read.

He doesn't cry so much when I'm around. I hear him at it when I get in, but as soon as I get here, he cheers up a bit. If you can call it cheery.

I don't know, maybe I'm doing him a disservice. Maybe I should forget about this and just go on. I'd be with James and Lily again, and Harry could grieve and get over it. I'm really just prolonging it this way...

Then he realized what he was doing.

You're assuming Wormtail will say no. You're assuming you're dead. Well, you are, but you're assuming it's as permanent as everyone thinks it is. You're getting a bad attitude, and that's the thing most likely to lose you this chance. Come on, Padfoot, who besides you ever got a chance to get out of death? Think of the history books.

No, forget the history books. Think of Harry. Think about what he'll feel like when you walk in alive. Besides astonished, dumbfounded, and otherwise surprised. You're going to make him the happiest kid in the world. And for him, that's going some.

He sighed. I just wish so much didn't rest on Wormtail. Awfully shaky shoulders to put my trust on. Little whinger.

Something about that phrase sounded familiar. Sirius frowned, looking over at Harry, who was now actually showing a bit of interest in his book.

Harry. Something about Harry, and a little whinger...

No. Not little whinger. Harry's never been that. No, it's Little Whinging. That's where he lives with the Muggles. Little Whinging, Surrey.

Bellatrix said something about "whinging". At the same time as she was talking about "plans" and "wards".

That settled it. He was going back to Malfoy Manor to do some spying.

Before he left, as he always did, he laid his insubstantial hand gently on top of Harry's head. "See you soon, kid," he said quietly. "In the flesh, I hope."

-----

Although neither Sirius nor Harry knew it, they had an observer in the dorm with them. And that observer knew his duty.

He zoomed invisibly out the door, past the Fat Lady's portrait, through the various stairwells and hallways, and up to a certain gargoyle. "Canary Creams," he cackled, bursting into visibility with a great splash of yellow feathers.

Albus Dumbledore was waiting.

"So, Peeves, any more information on our unexpected visitor?"

"Still watching the Potter boy, Your Headship, sir. Comes every day, he does. And looks familiar, though old Peevesie can't quite make him out. Not a proper ghost, nor a poltergeist for certain, Your Headship, sir. More like someone waiting for something. Someone wanting his second chance."

Dumbledore smiled. "I have a firm belief in second chances, Peeves. It's seen me through thus far, I have no reason to believe it will quit now. Thank you, and please continue to monitor the situation, if you would be so kind."

Peeves bowed and left, dropping a yellow feather or two on Professor McGonagall, who was just entering.

"I don't know what we're going to do, Albus," she said, rubbing her hand across the corner of her mouth. "It seems as if Harry is in denial. I haven't seen him shed a single tear – not one – since the night Sirius died. If he continues this way, he could tear himself apart."

"Patience, Minerva, patience. Let Harry deal with the loss in his own time, as we all must."

"Albus, are you sure?"

"Positive, Minerva. Let matters continue as they are for another, shall we say, ten days. That will give Harry time to return to his aunt and uncle's house and stay there the requisite week. After that, if he has need of help dealing with his emotions, we can provide it."

"I hope you know what you're doing," McGonagall sighed.

"As do I," said Dumbledore with a small smile. "As do I."

-----

(A/N: MAndrews, emikae, and Caprice-Ann HedicanKocur: Here's your update, folks, and thanks for waiting! Hope you enjoy!

Hmmm, should I have Wormtail cave early... or wait until the last second... or not give in at all? Ahh, the possibilities... heh heh heh.)