Truths

By Neurotica

Three

Remus awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and ready for the day. He silently thanked the makers of his pain and healing potions for them doing their jobs so quickly and effectively.

Something kept him from feeling his normal post-transformation self. He hadn't forgotten the dreams he'd had the day and night before. He had, however, forgotten when he'd covered himself with the blanket that was now draped over his waist. That's what had happened in the dream; someone had covered him with a blanket. Not just someone, though; Peter…

In that first dream, Wormtail, his old friend—his old dead friend—had been there. He'd covered Remus with a blanket and apologized for something. Remus didn't understand what he was apologizing for; he had nothing apologize for.

That one was almost as disturbing as the second one...

Almost.

Remus got out of bed, picked out his tattered clothes for the day, and headed for the bathroom for a shower. A nice, warm shower always seemed to clear the werewolf's mind. He peeled off his pajamas, and turned the water on. Once it was the desirable temperature, he stepped in and thoughts began to immediately surface his mind.

What if it wasn't just a dream? he wondered. What if they really did switch?

Remus also hadn't forgotten the wolf picking up the scent of Wormtail two nights before. And Remus was positive the wolf wouldn't make a mistake like that. No matter how much he missed his friends, no matter how many times he'd try to remind himself that they were dead (in one way or another), the wolf knew the scent. There was just no mistaking it.

But it still didn't make any sense whatsoever.

He'd have to discuss this with somebody. Somebody who wouldn't automatically think he was mad and book him a bed at St. Mungo's. Somebody who would listen to Remus' insane-sounding story and perhaps give some intelligent insight. Whatever this somebody would believe, Remus had to know whether or not he was losing his mind.

And he knew just the right somebody.

Albus Dumbledore.

With his mind made up, Remus quickly finished his shower and dressed. He headed straight for the fireplace, picking up the glass jar of Floo powder off the mantel. Remus threw a small handful of the greenish-blue powder into the fireplace, and said clearly, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office."

Remus stuck his head into the whirl of flames and waited for the spinning to stop. Once it did—ignoring the dizziness the Floo travel had caused—Remus looked around the office. It hadn't changed a bit from the last time he had seen it over three years ago. The room was as grand and impressive as ever.

Sitting at the desk, writing on a piece of parchment, was the man to whom Remus needed to speak. He obviously hadn't noticed the werewolf's head in his fireplace, which struck Remus as odd; Dumbledore always knew what was happening at Hogwarts.

Remus cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Headmaster. Sorry to interrupt."

Dumbledore's head whipped up from the fireplace quickly. The twinkle in the old man's blue eyes was very prominent.

"Ah, Remus. What a pleasant surprise," he said as he walked to the fireplace and knelt down to Remus' level. "What can I do for you on this lovely summer's day?"

"Good morning, sir. I was wondering if I could have a word with you." Remus suddenly felt quite uncomfortable, and not from his position in the fireplace. "It—er—concerns Peter Pettigrew, sir."

Dumbledore seemed slightly taken aback by the choice of topics his former student had chosen to discuss, but he smiled nonetheless. "Of course, my dear boy. Come on through." He stood. "And do, please, call me Albus." His eyes continued to twinkle.

Remus laughed slightly and pulled himself fully through the fireplace. He followed Dumbledore to his desk and sat in the chair across from the Headmaster's, as he was indicated to do.

Remus watched as Dumbledore began silently making tea. Once it had finished, he poured the tea into two cups and handed one to Remus. Remus smiled in thanks as Dumbledore sat, reached into his cloak, and pulled out a small bag of yellow candies.

"Lemon drop?" he asked kindly.

Remus laughed and took the offered candy. He, James, Peter, and Sirius had all become quite addicted to these candies in school. Every time McGonagall would bring them before the Headmaster, he would offer them one.

Once both men had enjoyed their odd combination of tea and lemon drops, Dumbledore began the conversation. "So, Remus, you wanted to speak to me about Peter Pettigrew?"

Remus sighed, trying to think of a way to tell Dumbledore about his "dreams" without the old man thinking he was out of his mind. But Remus quickly reminded himself that Dumbledore could be slightly out of his mind when he wanted to be. His obsession with Muggle candies was sometimes quite absurd...

"Well, sir, it's not just Peter that I wanted to discuss—although he is a large part of it," he began. Dumbledore nodded for him to continue. "It pertains to Peter, as well as Lily, James, and... Sirius." Dumbledore sat up further in his chair. Remus continued once more, "You see, the other night, during the full moon. I—the wolf, I mean—picked up on a scent. It was Peter's scent. And I know he's dead, but sir, I know it was him." Dumbledore looked into Remus' eyes, searching him, and after a moment, sighed and nodded. "Well, the next afternoon, I had a couple of strange dreams. At least, I think they were dreams."

He explained the first dream in which Peter had entered Remus' home, covered him with a blanket, and apologized for... something. Then how when he'd awoken that morning, he had indeed been covered with a blanket. Remus had intentionally not told Dumbledore about seeing the rat in the window; Dumbledore had no idea that Peter, James, and Sirius were illegal Animagi.

Once he finished his recollection, Dumbledore sat forward with his elbows on his desk, fingers crossed under his chin in deep thought. Quietly, he asked, "How do you know it was Peter's scent that the wolf smelled?"

Remus jumped a bit at the question. He couldn't tell the Headmaster about the Animagi, or about how on every full moon, the four Marauders explored Hogwarts grounds and later Hogsmeade. If Dumbledore noticed Remus' hesitation, he hadn't said anything. "Well, I suppose it's because of my heightened senses from being a werewolf. I shared a dorm with Peter for seven years, and I just know his scent," he lied.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. You mentioned there was another dream?"

Remus let out a small, barely noticeable sigh of relief for the lack of questioning and told Dumbledore of the second dream. About Sirius suggesting Lily and James switch Secret-Keepers; how Peter actually became Secret-Keeper.

"It just seemed so real. It was clear as day—as if I was really there. Like in a pensieve. And I know that isn't possible." The two wizards sat in silence for a few moments, each collecting their thoughts, before Dumbledore spoke.

"Remus, do you believe Lily and James switched Secret-Keepers before they were murdered?" he asked.

Remus sighed deeply. "I just don't know, sir," he replied, shaking his head. "I mean, it could have been possible. If they had... that could only mean Peter was the spy, not Sirius. Peter was the one to betray Lily and James to Voldemort, not Sirius. But I wouldn't know how to explain what happened the next day. Peter tracking down Sirius like that... Unless it was the other way around; unless Sirius tracked Peter down." Remus shook his head again. "But what about the Muggles? What about Peter? Well, I guess I could explain Sirius murdering Peter; Sirius always was one to seek revenge..." he thought aloud.

The mysterious, comforting twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes was long gone. When it had disappeared was anyone's guess. But now, Remus could see no trace of it. And for the first time in nearly five years, Remus saw how old Dumbledore really was.

"There may be a possibility, Remus," the Headmaster began, "that these dreams weren't dreams at all, that these scenarios may have actually occurred. Was there any evidence showing that anyone had been in your home yesterday afternoon?"

Remus thought for a moment. "Other than the blanket, no. But I could have just covered myself without remembering."

Dumbledore nodded, but remained silent in thought.

Remus knew—even if he did not want to believe it—that there was truly only one way to find out the complete truth, one way to solve the mystery that had erupted in his mind.

Maybe it was all just in his mind. Maybe he had been so desperate and lonely for five years that he had made it all up. He supposed the scent could have been a memory of his friend. The rat in the window with the missing toe could have just been some ordinary garden rat.

The other half of his mind was having a similar, yet completely opposite debate. The dreams had been so real. It was a definite possibility that Lily and James switched Secret-Keepers. If they did, and switched to Peter, it also made sense—especially if Sirius was convinced that Remus was the spy.

Sirius had been right about one thing: Nobody would ever suspect little Peter Pettigrew to be chosen as Secret-Keeper. The small, pudgy boy who feared all Slytherins, Secret-Keeper? Hell, at times Peter feared his own bloody shadow! The three of them—James, Sirius, and Remus—spent much of their spare time defending Peter from bullies in Hogwarts.

But Peter grew up, a voice told Remus. He grew up and started disappearing at the oddest times.

That's true, Remus thought back to himself. One occasion in particular stuck out clearly in Remus' mind.

Harry had just been born. The four Marauders were gathered around the nursery window trying to catch a glimpse at Prongs Jr. Out of nowhere, Peter exclaimed in that squeaky voice he used when he got nervous that he had forgotten to do something for his mother and that he would be back later.

Now that Remus thought more about it, Peter did begin to do that a lot a few years after graduation. But how had nobody noticed he was doing it? The answer was quite simple: Nobody really paid much attention to Peter Pettigrew. And in the year before the Potters' deaths, "nobody" had come to include Peter's friends.

But why would Peter turn spy?

Power?

Peter never had power over anything. His mother controlled his entire life up until the day he died. Everything from what he was wearing on any given day, to where he would work.

Popularity?

That had always been James and Sirius' department. The two most popular guys at Hogwarts. Best at Quidditch, best in classes. They even got the girls they wanted. Even Remus was able to share some of the popularity spot light with Prongs and Padfoot. Peter, however, was the "forgotten" Marauder; the tagalong.

Respect?

Ha. That's a laugh. Peter rarely received respect within the group. Remus tried his best, but sometimes Peter could be so... stupid. Sirius cut him down on a daily basis, but insisted he was just joking. James didn't help matters much before seventh year. But perhaps that would have been too late?

Perhaps Peter would have turned spy to accomplish something the others hadn't?

He was never bright or athletic. He'd never scored high on any test; a passing grade was a huge success to the boy. Nor was he on the Quidditch team (unless you count equipment manager—James had given Peter the title when he was made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain in sixth year).

Peter would have made the perfect spy. Nobody noticed him. He never spoke in crowds unless spoken to, unless it was to one of his fellow Marauders. He could wander around in his Animagus form through conversations. He could have easily passed secrets onto Voldemort without the others knowing.

Remus' stomach clenched painfully. It was all starting to make sense now—in his mind, at least.

There is a way to prove this all, you know. The voice was back.

Lost in thought, Remus didn't notice Dumbledore gazing at him over his half-moon spectacles. After another moment, Remus finally realized he was being watched and looked up at the Headmaster.

"What is it you would like to do with this information, Remus?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

There is no other choice... I have to know! Remus thought.

With a heavy sigh, wondering if this was, indeed, the right thing to do, Remus spoke, "I would like to go to Azkaban and speak with Sirius. Is there any way you could arrange that, sir?"

Remus noticed a small trace of the Dumbledore twinkle in the old man's eyes for a split second. "Are you free this afternoon, Remus?"

Wondering through dark sewers of London, Wormtail searched for the tunnel he needed. After hours of traveling from Remus' cottage, Wormtail met up with a few fellow rats that seemed more than happy to help the Animagus find his way.

He needed to get to Little Whinging, Surrey. Wormtail knew this was where Harry Potter had been taken. He'd gone to Godric's Hollow with his master that Halloween night. He'd hidden in some trees while it'd all happened. Wormtail heard James yell for Lily to take Harry and run. Then he'd heard the Dark Lord and James duel for a few minutes before James' life had ended. Wormtail heard Lily's pleas for mercy for her son, heard the Dark Lord laugh at her, and finally heard Lily's screams as his master murdered her. Moments later, there was a bright green light, followed by a scream of pain and confusion. That was when the house had been destroyed. That was when the Dark Lord had been defeated and had fled. Wormtail didn't leave his position in the tree; he waited for his master to come back for him, to give him instructions.

Sirius had arrived less than five minutes later. Wormtail watched as his former friend grieved for Lily and James, watched as he began to walk away, only to double back and uncover a fifteen-month-old child. Harry had survived. Hagrid arrived, and told Sirius that Harry was "ter be taken to his aunt and uncle's house."

Wormtail left the scene after that.

Wormtail knew exactly where Lily's sister's home was located. Just after graduation from Hogwarts, James and Sirius had come up with the brilliant plan to "prank the Muggles whom have caused his Lily-flower hell," as James had put it.

So the Marauders arrived at Number Four, Privet Drive and proceeded to change the Dursleys' home different colors. By the time they had finished, the house was pink with yellow dots on one half, and rainbow colored on the other. Just for good measure, Sirius bombarded the house in rotten eggs (he'd wanted to use used toilet paper, but Remus explained that that was just sick and highly unhygienic, and talked Sirius out of it). Lily never found out about that particular prank. If she had, the Marauders—especially James—would have been in a lot of trouble with the fiery redhead. It was a harmless prank. Besides, the colors were only charms; they wore off two days later.

Since Peter had become a Death Eater (and subsequently a spy for the Dark Lord), he'd learned to pay very close attention to detail. Therefore, he remembered exactly where to find Harry Potter.

The only problem was finding the blasted sewer that would take him to Surrey. Wormtail was covered with filth from sewer water and Merlin only knew what else and he was beginning to become slightly agitated with his rat guide. The idiot didn't seem to have any clue as to where he was going. But Wormtail followed. Not that he had much choice in the matter; if he didn't follow, he could end up in Australia for all he knew about the sewers.

Finally, the rat ahead of him squeaked excitedly, pointed a dirty paw towards yet another wet, dark tunnel. Wormtail thanked the rat impatiently, and headed off, hoping he would be able to leave the sewers soon.