A/N: All right, everyone, it's time for my confession. I had hoped that I wouldn't have to tell you about this so soon in the story, but here we go.
I'm leaving on the 31st for Madrid, Spain. I'm going to study there for the academic year, working on my Master's degree. While this is an excellent opportunity for me, and I'm really excited about it, I'm sure that you're not going to like it.
I'm definitely going to continue with this story, but it's going to take longer, since I won't have my own computer anymore. I'm going to try my hardest to get at least one more chapter out before I leave, but starting September 1st, I'm only going to promise one chapter every three weeks. I will try as hard as I can to update more frequently than that, but until I know my situation, that's the best I can do.
I am really sorry to have to leave you like this. When I originally started this insanely long story, I thought I'd be done before I left. Sometime last month, I realized that wasn't going to happen.
Again, I'm really sorry. I love you all for your support of my story. I swear I'm not going to give up on it – I love it even more than all of you do! Thanks for sticking with me for so long, and for your patience! Please keep reading and reviewing! Thanks, everyone!
I don't own Harry Potter.
Rivalry
Peter's entire body felt heavy as he dragged himself home. He knew he couldn't Apparate with his mind so preoccupied, and forced himself to walk the distance. He had hoped that walking would help him come to a decision. Unfortunately, it did not.
It was very late by the time he arrived; the house was completely dark. His parents were obviously already asleep. He opened the door as quietly as he could, and lit his wand to make his way up to his bedroom.
Once inside his room, he collapsed on his bed. He didn't even both to take off his shoes before curling up into a ball. Tears gathered in his eyes as the decision he had to make weighed down on him.
"What can I do?" he whispered. "I don't want to do this, but do I have a choice? They were right; the Dark Lord is gaining power. We haven't been able to stop him. He's killed so many innocent people. He killed Lily's parents just because of who they were. He killed Marlene, and she was an Order member. He killed Kathleen when she wasn't even out of Hogwarts. He killed her entire family . . . How can I join the man who killed my Kathleen?
"But if I don't join him . . . Remus lost his career over it. He was afraid he'd lose Laura." He stopped, and his eyes grew round. "What if they go after my family? Or my friends? I can't let them do anything to hurt my friends. I have to protect them, the same way they've always protected me."
"PETER!"
Peter jumped off his bed at the sound of his mother's hysterical scream. He had never heard her scream like that. Something must be horribly wrong. He bounded across the room, and threw open the door.
"Mum?" he yelled.
"In here! Hurry!"
Peter raced down the hall to his parents' room. His mother was completely frantic, standing over his father, who was still lying in bed. His face was gray, and his eyes and jaw were clenched.
"What happened?" Peter asked.
"It's your father! He just started moaning, and clutching at his chest, and now . . ."
"We have to get him to St. Mungo's!" Peter yelled. "We have to talk to the Healers, to find out what we should do for him!"
His mother nodded, and ran to the fireplace at the other end of the room. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the flames.
While his mother talked to the Healers, Peter knelt down in front of his father. He reached out to touch him, but then thought better of it. He didn't want to cause him any further pain.
"Dad?" he asked quietly. "Can you hear me?"
"Peter . . ." The older man opened his eyes, and forced them to focus on Peter. "My son."
"I'm right here, Dad."
"Take care . . . of . . . your mother," Mr. Pettigrew gasped.
"I will," Peter swore. "I always will."
"Don't . . . get yourself killed."
Peter smiled slightly. "I'll try to avoid that."
"I mean it . . . Peter, do you . . . remember what . . . we talked about . . . before? About . . . not breaking . . . your mother's . . . heart?"
"I remember," Peter said softly, thinking back to the conversation he had had with his father while James and Lily were in St. Mungo's on the brink of death.
"Do the right thing, Peter," Mr. Pettigrew said in a raspy voice. He reached out to grab a fistful of Peter's shirt, and forced himself to speak, using all the strength he could muster. "Save your mother the pain of losing you. Do the right thing." His fingers loosened around Peter's shirt, and his hand fell back on the bed. "Make me proud, Peter."
"I will," Peter whispered. "I want you to be proud, Dad."
Mr. Pettigrew nodded once, and his head fell back. Peter's eyes opened in terror.
"Dad?" he asked. He gently shook his father's shoulder. "Dad? DAD!"
Mrs. Pettigrew looked up from her conversation with the Healer at the panic in Peter's voice. With a cry, she lunged across the room. The flames in the fireplace jumped higher, and within moments, a Healer was stepping into the room.
The Healer gently pulled Mrs. Pettigrew away from her husband. Peter caught his mother in his arms, and held her close while the Healer conducted his examination. Finally, he looked up at them, his face grave.
"I'm so sorry," he said. "He's gone."
Mrs. Pettigrew gave a pitiful cry, and slumped against Peter. He held her tightly, letting his own tears run down his cheeks.
Peter had never had a good relationship with his father. They had never been like James and Mr. Potter. But he had loved him. And he wanted to make him proud.
"I will make you proud, Dad," Peter whispered. "I promise."
"I think we may have Pettigrew convinced, my Lord."
Voldemort nodded with a slightly twisted smile, resting the tips of his long fingers together. "He will join us, then?"
"He said he needed time to think. But with his father's influence, I'm sure he will come to the right conclusion."
"Very well. What of the others?"
"Lupin has refused us."
"We know this for certain?"
"We have destroyed his career, and he still didn't come to us. He will always oppose us."
"That is his foolish decision, then. We will move on. Who else do we need to convince to join our ranks?"
"Our next target is Sirius Black, sir."
"Ah, yes, the rogue Black son." Voldemort rested his chin against his fingertips, and nodded slightly. "I'm afraid you are not the ones who will talk to Mr. Black."
"My Lord?"
"There is one who is better equipped than you to deal with him." He smiled slightly. "Hold out your arm."
With a slightly pained expression, the Death Eater held out his left arm, pushing up the sleeve of his robes.
"Regulus Black," Voldemort whispered, pressing his finger into the Dark Mark on the man's arm.
The man winced in pain as the mark burned black. Voldemort pulled his hand away.
"You may go," he said, waving his hand. "I will alert you when your services are needed again."
The man nodded, gave a short bow, and left the room. Several moments later, Regulus appeared with a faint pop.
"Ah, Mr. Black," Voldemort smiled. "Welcome."
"I'm sorry I took so long to arrive, my Lord."
"Think nothing of it," Voldemort replied. "I know of your challenges in reaching me. It is difficult in your particular circumstances."
Regulus nodded. Of course the Dark Lord knew that he could not Disapparate within the confines of Hogwarts. "You wanted to see me, my Lord?"
"Yes . . . I have a mission for you, Regulus."
Regulus stood up a bit straighter. "I will execute it to the best of my ability."
"I know you will. Just as I know that you, above all others, will have success with this mission."
"What am I to do, my Lord?"
"As you are aware, Mr. Black, we are always recruiting new members for our ranks. We have a list of potential members, all chosen for one reason or another. The next person on the list is a powerful wizard, who would be able to contribute greatly to our cause. You will convince him to join us."
"Who is he, my Lord?"
"Why, your brother, of course. Sirius Black."
Regulus' eyes widened in surprise. "You want me to convince Sirius to become a Death Eater?"
"If you think you are not up to the challenge . . ."
"No," Regulus said firmly, knowing that he could not let the Dark Lord down. "I'll do it."
"Excellent."
Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, reading over the resume James had sent him. He nodded as his eyes skimmed over the words. James had done an excellent job of listing his accomplishments. His next task would be to convince the other teachers that he deserved this job. An interview would need to be scheduled.
Dumbledore set James' resume aside, making a mental note to bring it to the next meeting he held with his Heads of House. He wanted to show it to them, and to ask them for a convenient time for the interview.
He looked up in surprise as an owl flew through his open window. It landed on his desk, and he removed the letter it was carrying. As soon as the letter had been taken, the owl took off again, flying out the same window it had used to enter.
Dumbledore didn't recognize the writing on the parchment. He turned it over, and broke the seal. His eyes widened in surprise as he read the first few lines.
"Well, it appears that James has some competition," he muttered. He glanced over at Fawkes. "And that competition has come from a most unlikely person."
A knock sounded on his door. Dumbledore looked up from the letter.
"Come in," he called.
The door opened, and Professor McGonagall walked into the office.
"Albus, do you have a moment?"
"Of course," Dumbledore said, setting the parchment aside.
"Nothing pressing, I hope?" McGonagall asked, indicating the parchment.
"Not pressing . . . just unexpected." He sighed. "I've had a second applicant for the Defense job."
"I thought you only offered it to James Potter."
"Word travels quickly, Minerva. I could not have expected that others would not have heard of the job opening."
"Well, who has applied?"
"Severus Snape."
McGonagall's jaw started to drop before she stopped it. "Well, you know that hiring him is completely out of the question," she said, trying to recover her composure.
"We have to grant him an interview, at the very least."
"Why? Common courtesy? Think rationally, Albus. We practically have confirmation that Severus became a Death Eater upon graduation from Hogwarts. You can't be seriously considering hiring a Death Eater to teach our students!"
"No, not really. But I believe that an interview would be appropriate. Never forget, Minerva, that we should keep our enemies close. There may come a time when we will rely on Severus, and when we will welcome him back into our school."
"Well, it won't be until he has renounced You-Know-Who," McGonagall said fiercely. "Until the day when he can honestly say that he has given up his life as a Death Eater, I will not trust him."
Dumbledore looked at her for a moment. "Do you believe in second chances, Minerva?"
"Of course."
"Then remember that everyone deserves them – even those who we would rather not think of as deserving."
Lily reached down and laced her fingers through James' as they watched the coffin holding Mr. Pettigrew's body being lowered into the ground. James tightened his grip on her hand, knowing how difficult this was for her. But she had wanted to come. She had wanted to be there to support Peter.
They had all come. It was easy to celebrate with your friends when things were going well. The true test of friendship was to support your friends when things fell apart. They had to be there for one another at times like this, and they always were. For Peter, his world was spiraling apart with each word the minister spoke.
He was standing in front of the gravesite with his arms around his mother. As the coffin was lowered, Mrs. Pettigrew turned her face into Peter's shoulder, sobs shaking her body. He held her close, trying to still her shaking. His eyes looked straight ahead, but he didn't see anything. A thousand thoughts tumbled around in his mind, all leading back to the same point: What was he going to do? What decision was he going to make? How could he best protect himself and his friends? How could he make his father proud?
The service ended, and the mourners began to move toward the hall, where lunch was being served. Peter and his mother remained by the grave, saying a silent farewell to the man who had been a part of their lives for so many years. Mrs. Pettigrew finally looked up at Peter, wiping away her tears.
"Come, Peter," she said hoarsely. "Let's go have something to eat."
"You go, Mum," he mumbled. "I'll just be another minute."
She looked deeply at him for a moment, and touched his face. Then, nodding, she turned and made her way to the hall. Peter turned back to his father's grave, looking down at it as though asking it for answers.
"We should go talk to him," James muttered.
"Let's go," Sirius replied.
"Let me," Lily said softly.
James, Sirius, and Remus all stared at her. James cleared his throat.
"Lil, I know that Peter is your friend, too, but Sirius, Remus, and I know him better than anyone. We really need to be here for him today."
"And you are here for him," Lily replied. "I know that the four of you have the strongest bond imaginable. But, right now, I think I can understand what Peter's going through more than any of you." She looked around at them. "James, Remus, you both still have your fathers, and Sirius, you wrote yours off long ago. Of all of us, Dana and I are the only ones who have been where he is right now. If anyone is going to talk to him right now, it's going to be one of us."
Dana nodded. "She's right, you know. Let her handle it, if she wants to."
"Do you want to come?" Lily asked softly.
"Will you need me?"
"If I do, I'll wave you over," Lily replied.
Dana nodded. Lily looked at the men expectantly.
"Only if you promise to wave us over, too," James said.
"Fine. One hand means that I need Dana, and two means that I need the three of you."
"Fair enough."
Lily nodded, and turned from the group. She walked slowly across the cemetery, knowing that there were no "right" words for this situation. She finally arrived next to Peter, and reached out to gently touch his shoulder.
He turned slightly, and caught sight of her red hair. "Hey, Lils," he said dully.
"How are you holding up?" she asked gently.
"As well as I can, I guess. I think this is worse for my mum than it is for me."
"Don't try to be brave for me," Lily replied. "You're going through quite a lot right now, too, Peter. Don't pretend that it doesn't hurt."
"What do you know about it?" he asked.
"Quite a bit, actually," she said softly. "Remember, I watched my father die, too. I lost both of my parents in one day. If anyone understands what you're going through right now, Peter, it's me."
He shook his head. "You have no idea of the thoughts that I have right now. You have no idea of the decisions that I'm facing."
Lily gently squeezed his shoulder. "I know you'll make the right decisions, Peter. I know that you want to do what's right, and I know that you have three brothers over there who will support you in whatever you do."
Peter looked past her, and caught sight of James, Sirius, and Remus. They were all poised to run over as soon as Lily needed them.
"They don't know what it's like," he said. "James and Remus, they both still have their fathers, and they have great relationships with them. They've never had to fight for their fathers' approval, or struggled to make them proud. Sirius wouldn't care if his father dropped over dead tomorrow. He's never cared what his father thought of him. They can't possibly know what I'm going through."
"They may not have lived through the same things you have, Peter, but I know that they understand that you're in pain. They would do anything in their power to make it better."
"But they can't," he said, turning to her with tear-filled eyes. "Don't you see, Lily? They can't make it better. No one can, not even you. Even you can't understand all that I'm going through right now. I'm all alone now, facing this terrible decision. For the first time, I can't talk to them about it. I know they wouldn't understand, and I know they can't help me."
Lily didn't say a word. She merely leaned in, and pulled Peter into a comforting embrace. Stifling the sobs that wanted to shake his body, he clung to her, drawing strength from her inner strength, wishing that she was right, that his friends really could help him this time. But, as much as he wanted it, he knew that they couldn't.
Lily remained silent, gently running her hand up and down his back. She didn't have a clue what decision it was that he had to make, but assumed that it had something to do with his father's estate. But why wouldn't James, Sirius, and Remus understand that? Hiding her confusion, she did the best she could to comfort her mourning friend.
"Why won't you just cooperate for once in your bloody life?"
Lily giggled as she watched James struggling with his hair. He turned to face her, his dress robes whipping around him.
"I'm glad you find this so amusing! Just because your hair is perfect is no reason to laugh at mine!"
Lily smiled, and tried to stop laughing. "Oh, James, you know that my hair isn't perfect. You've seen it first thing in the morning."
"Well, it's certainly closer to perfect than mine."
She walked into the bathroom, and kissed his cheek. "I like it like this."
"You might," he replied. "But that doesn't mean that it's going to impress anyone at this interview."
"It's just our old professors, James. They've all seen you before, and they've definitely seen you looking worse than this." She stepped back to survey the picture of her husband in his dress robes. "You look fantastic."
James smiled slightly. "I don't feel fantastic."
"Well, you should. I know you're going to get this job. Dumbledore asked you to apply for it! He's not going to do that, and then turn you down."
"But what if someone else applied? Let's face it, Lil – I'm not remotely qualified to teach."
"Dumbledore must think that you are," Lily said stubbornly. "Or he must think that you have the capacity to learn." She reached out to smooth the front his robes. "You'll be a brilliant teacher, James."
He leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. "I hope so."
"Now, let me give you a good luck kiss, and then you'd better be on your way," she said, reaching up to kiss his lips. "Good luck, love."
"Thanks," James said. He reached up to attempt to smooth his hair one last time. "Is that any better?"
"Definitely," Lily replied, steering him away from the mirror before he had a chance to look at his hair again. She didn't want him to know that it looked the same. "You go impress our old teachers now, and I'll see you for our special dinner tonight."
He smiled. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
With one last grin, he was gone.
James Apparated to a point just outside of the Hogwarts grounds. He heaved a sigh, and began walking toward the castle. He forced himself to walk quickly, knowing that delaying the process wouldn't make it any easier.
By the time he arrived at the Headmaster's office, his stomach was completely jumpy. He hadn't felt so nervous since the night he had proposed to Lily. He had felt dread since then, like during the days and nights when she had been unconscious after their last battle with Voldemort. But this was different. This was the same set of nerves he had felt while waiting for her to agree to marry him. It was a horrible, wonderful feeling that meant that he truly did want this job.
The door of the Headmaster's office swung open. James immediately stood up straighter, and reached up to try to flatten his hair.
"James?" Dumbledore asked with a calming smile. "We're ready for you. Please, come in."
James smiled, and followed the older man up to his office. A conference table had been arranged in the middle of the room. Dumbledore motioned James to a seat at the foot of the table, and took his own seat at the head. Professor McGonagall sat next to him, with Professor Flitwick on her other side. Professor Sprout sat across from McGonagall, next to Professor Turner. James fought the urge to give his old Divination professor a grin and a wink, remembering the torment he and Sirius had put the woman through. They had always rationalized that it served her right for being the Head of Slytherin House.
"I'm sure that you all remember Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said as they took their seats. He took out a recording quill like the one Lily used for interviews, and tapped it with his wand. "Interview of James Potter, for the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, beginning at 8:30 AM."
James nodded, and nervously clasped his hands in his lap.
"James, we're each going to ask you several questions," Dumbledore said. "Please answer them honestly, and to the best of your ability."
James nodded again.
"I'll begin," Professor McGonagall said. She gave James a rather severe look that reminded him of the number of times this woman had assigned him detention. "Potter, tell us about your activities since leaving Hogwarts."
"Well, I've been working in the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of International Magical Cooperation," James said. "It has been my responsibility to open and maintain lines of communication between England and Bulgaria, Greece, and Hungary. I have done a great deal of work with my counterparts in those countries to contain the Death Eaters, and to thwart Voldemort's plans when possible."
A murmur ran through the group at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. James barely refrained from rolling his eyes.
"I've also gotten married," he added.
"Oh, that's right!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "To Miss Evans, correct?"
James nodded with a grin. "That's right."
"She was a brilliant Charms student," Flitwick continued. "I haven't found one to match her yet!"
James grinned again. He could hardly wait to tell Lily what her favorite professor had said about her.
"Moving along," Professor Turner said. "Potter, tell us how you would assess your students in their defense abilities."
James nodded. "Well, I rather think that the examinations we took for our O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were quite comprehensive, and that's how I'd like to evaluate my students. That way they can tell me what they know on paper, and show me what they can do in practice."
Professor Turner nodded slowly. She looked as though she was trying not to be impressed by his answer as she, along with the other teachers, noted his answer.
"How would you make allowances for students of varying abilities?" Professor Sprout asked.
"I would be available for tutoring, if they would require additional help outside of class," James replied. "And I will allow them to work in pairs to learn jinxes and hexes, so that the stronger students could help the weaker students."
Professor Sprout nodded. James watched as all the professors made notes on their parchment. He wanted desperately to know what they were writing.
"What texts would you like to use?" Professor Flitwick asked.
James blinked. He hadn't considered texts for the students. It seemed a bit presumptuous to choose books before knowing that the job was his. He searched his mind for the books he had used as a student, as well as books he had seen Remus reading, and chose the best ones. He rattled off the titles quickly, hoping that they wouldn't question him further about the books.
"Tell us about your abilities with hexes," Dumbledore said.
James took a deep breath, and began to recount all the hexes he had mastered. Once he was through with that, they asked him to discuss his knowledge of jinxes, of general defensive spells, and of dark creatures. James told them all that he could do, hoping that it was enough.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said at last. "You will receive notification by the end of the week."
"Thank you, sir," James said. He shook Dumbledore's hand, and then those of the other professors.
"I'll walk you out," Dumbledore offered. He led James back to the moving staircase, and rode down with him. "Thank you for coming in today, James."
"It was my pleasure, sir," James replied.
Dumbledore smiled. "Between you and I, I think you did very well."
James grinned. "Thanks."
The staircase came to a stop, and James walked off it. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and collided with someone. He jumped back, and looked to see who was standing in his pathway.
"Snape?" he asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same," Snape sneered. "Still serving detentions from your schooldays?"
"Mr. Potter is here for the same reason you are, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore cut in, trying to avoid a confrontation. "And if you'll follow me, we can begin your interview."
James' jaw dropped. Snape was interviewing for his job?
Snape endured the same round of questions that James had. While his answers to the instructional questions were not as good as James', his knowledge of the Dark Arts far outstripped his opponent's. At the end of the interview, Professors Sprout and Flitwick looked at one another with raised eyebrows. They had never realized exactly how interested their former student was in the Dark Arts. McGonagall and Turner exchanged dark glances.
"Thank you, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore said. "Let me see you out."
Snape nodded, and stood up, shaking his greasy hair out of his eyes. He followed the Headmaster onto the moving staircase.
"Professor, be honest with me," he said as they made their way back down. "Will this job go to me or to Potter?"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Severus, I have some reservations about offering the job to you," he said. "Your knowledge of the Dark Arts is quite extensive – almost too extensive. I'm afraid that the Defense Against the Dark Arts post would not be the place where you could best serve Hogwarts."
Snape raised his eyebrows. "You have another job open?"
"Not this year, no," Dumbledore replied. "But perhaps next year. Our Potions Master is considering retirement, and I know that you were one of the best Potions scholars Hogwarts has ever produced."
Snape looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You think I would be better in Potions?"
"Yes." Dumbledore looked deeply into his eyes, and watched as Snape's defenses blocked him out. "You are quite skilled in many areas, Severus. I just wish you would use your talent for the right reasons."
"If you don't approve of my life choices, Professor, just say it."
"Very well. I have credible sources that have informed me that you are a Death Eater."
"And you believe these sources?"
"Until you tell me otherwise, I have no choice."
Snape looked away.
Dumbledore nodded. "And now I'm sure you can see why I cannot place you in a position to teach my students Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"And so I've lost to Potter again," Snape spat bitterly.
"No," Dumbledore said quietly, "you've lost to yourself."
"Are you being serious?" Sirius laughed. "Snape applied for the Defense job?"
"Isn't it ridiculous?" James asked. "Can you imagine that git as a teacher?"
"Can you imagine how the students would tear him apart?" Sirius laughed, jumping onto the couch with his mirror held tightly in his hands. "The first time they saw that greasy hair, they'd laugh hysterically! He does still have the greasy hair, doesn't he?"
"Of course," James laughed. "He still hasn't learned how to wash it."
"Well, if Snivelly was your competition, I think you've got it in the bag, Prongs," Sirius said easily. "Are you coming over for dinner with Remus and I tonight?"
"No, Lil and I are going out," James replied. "It's our two month anniversary."
"You two truly are sick. You know that, right?"
James laughed. "You wait until you make an honest woman out of Olivia. You'll be just as bad."
"Who said I was going to marry Olivia?" Sirius asked with a grin.
"Right," James replied.
A knock sounded on the door of Sirius' flat. He frowned.
"Looks like I've got company, Prongs," he said. "I'll talk to you later, all right?"
"Sure," James replied.
"Have fun with Lils."
"I will. Talk to you later."
Sirius put his mirror down, and grabbed his wand as he moved toward the door. He opened it, and stopped short, staring at the person standing on his doorstep.
"Hey, Sirius. It's been awhile."
"Regulus," Sirius whispered.
Peter paced around his room like a caged animal. He still didn't know what to do, but he knew that his time was running out. He was certain that the Death Eaters would try to contact him soon. How could he make a decision like this alone? He needed help.
"I need to make a list," he muttered, thinking of the lists of notes he and his friends had created while trying to complete their Animagi transformations. "It'll help to see everything written out."
He had just sat down at his desk when an owl flew into his room. He grabbed the letter from it, and it took off again. He broke the seal on the letter with shaking hands, and looked down at the parchment.
"Meet us tonight in the store at midnight."
There was no signature, but Peter knew without a doubt who had sent it.
"What am I going to do?" he muttered.
"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked.
Regulus smiled sheepishly. "Well, that's a warm welcome for your little brother. Don't I get an invitation in?"
"Of course," Sirius replied, moving aside to admit his brother.
"So," Regulus said as he looked around, "this is where you live, huh?"
"Yeah, this is it," Sirius replied. "Remus and I are the only ones here since James married Lily."
"Is Remus home now?" Regulus asked, his eyes betraying a hint of nerves.
"No, it's just me," Sirius said slowly. "Are you all right, Regulus?"
"Of course."
Sirius looked at him closely. "Here, sit down."
Regulus nodded, and took a seat on the couch. Sirius sat down across from him.
"Do you like living here?" Regulus asked, looking around the room.
"Stop that," Sirius said. "We never had to make small talk before, and we don't now. We may have lost touch for awhile, but I think that we can still be as honest with one another as we always were. Don't beat around the bush. Why are you here, Regulus?"
Peter put the letter down on his desk. As his eyes roamed over it, they fell on a picture from James and Lily's wedding. He had only recently framed it to add to his collection. James and Lily were in the center, with Sirius, Remus, Peter, Olivia, Dana, and Laura gathered around them. They were all laughing, and waving up at Peter. He smiled as he watched them.
The picture next to it was taken at graduation. The same eight people were standing together with their arms around one another. The girls blew kisses at the camera, and the boys were laughing at them. As Peter watched, James grabbed Lily around the waist, and twirled her around. She laughed hysterically, clutching his shoulders. He set her down, and kissed her cheek.
Peter smiled again. He loved his friends. He would never do anything to hurt them.
He turned his eyes to the last picture on his desk. It was of him and Kathleen, taken on the last day they were at Hogwarts before Christmas during their seventh year – the last day Kathleen had ever been at Hogwarts. In the picture, he had his arm around her waist, holding her close to him. She leaned over, and kissed his cheek.
Tears began to gather in Peter's eyes as he watched. Why had she been taken? Why?
"I loved her," he whispered. "I loved her so much, and I couldn't help her. Lily loved her parents, and being in the Order didn't help them. What if . . .?"
Wiping away his tears, he stood up. He had a meeting to get to.
Regulus sighed. "Sirius, why do I always have to have an ulterior motive with you?"
"You don't always," Sirius replied. "But consider this: I haven't seen you since I left Hogwarts, and it's been even longer since I've spoken to you. Suddenly, without even a letter in all that time, you show up on my doorstep. How do you think it looks?"
"I guess I can see your point."
"If you don't have an ulterior motive, then I apologize," Sirius said. "Don't think that I'm not happy to see you, because I am. I'm glad you came, it's just . . . Well, how have you been? How's life . . ." Sirius trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "You, my little brother, are still supposed to be at Hogwarts. Tell me – why aren't you?"
"I . . . I . . ."
"Did something happen to Mum or Dad?" Sirius asked quickly. "Is that why you're here? Did you come to tell me?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Regulus replied, narrowing his own eyes. "You'd just love it if Mum or Dad died."
"Regulus, don't talk like that," Sirius said fiercely. "I don't agree with them on most things, and I don't want to have anything to do with them, but I don't wish them dead."
Regulus nodded. "Sorry."
"So, if Mum and Dad are fine, why are you here?"
Regulus drew a deep breath. "I have a proposition for you."
"What kind of proposition?"
"It's about the Dark Lord."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"You knew I was here on his behalf?"
"No, I didn't exactly know . . . but what else could it be? I know that you're involved with the Death Eaters. You have been for years."
"And you've never approved."
"No, I haven't. But what news have you brought me from Voldemort?"
Regulus flinched.
"You're willing to serve a man, but you don't want to hear his name?" Sirius laughed.
Regulus ignored his comment. "I've come to ask you to join us, Sirius."
Sirius laughed. "You want me to become a Death Eater?"
Regulus looked at him evenly. "Yes."
Sirius stopped laughing, realizing that his brother wasn't joking. "You really mean it, don't you?"
"Of course I do," Regulus replied. "The Dark Lord sent me to recruit you over to our cause – to ask you to join the side that will win this war."
"Regulus, do you honestly expect me to agree?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"I'd like you consider it."
"Do you know what I've been doing since I left Hogwarts?"
Regulus shook his head. "I had to work quite hard to find where you live. Your occupation was a bit above me."
"Well, let me enlighten you. I've been training to become an Auror."
Regulus' eyes grew round.
"Exactly," Sirius said. "So, I'd advise you to leave before I'm forced to arrest you as a Death Eater."
"You wouldn't arrest your own brother."
"I don't want to. But if you ask me to join your side again, I will."
"Sirius, be reasonable."
"I'm being very reasonable. The fact that I haven't taken you to the Ministry yet should tell you how reasonable I'm being."
Regulus nodded, realizing that he had hit the end of his brother's tolerance. He stood to leave. "I hope you're not going to regret this."
Sirius looked at him for a moment. "I won't."
Peter arrived at the store where he worked promptly at midnight. His face was set in determination. He would protect his mother. He would save his friends. He would make his father proud.
The two men who had approached him the week before were already waiting for him, sitting on benches outside the store. They both stood when they saw him approaching.
"You got our message," the first man said. "Good. The fact that you've come to meet us tells me that we're going to like your decision."
Peter looked at them for a moment. "Before I join you, I have a request."
The second man laughed. "You are not in a position to make requests."
"Let the man talk," the first man said patiently. "What is your request, Pettigrew?"
"I want to make sure that my mum and my friends are safe."
The two men exchanged glances.
"I know that you know who my mum is, and I'm sure that you know who all my friends are," Peter said. "If I join you, I don't want them harmed. I want to know that they will all be safe. I will not do anything to hurt them, and I want to be sure that no one else will, either."
"I think we can arrange that," the first man said. "Come here, and touch this. It will take you to the Dark Lord."
Peter reached out to touch the parchment, and instantly felt himself being transported away from the store.
When his feet slammed into the ground, he was in a large office. He looked up, and saw a crackling fire. A large wing-backed chair was before it. He barely managed not to gasp as he saw Lord Voldemort sitting in the chair. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair, and his fingers were steepled before his face.
"Mr. Pettigrew," he said softly. "I am so glad you have chosen to join us."
"I have a condition," Peter said nervously. He tried desperately to remember his Gryffindor bravery. "I won't join if it isn't met."
"Yes, of course," Voldemort said, waving his hand. "Come here."
Peter stepped forward, practically shaking with nerves.
"Give me your left arm."
"Why?"
"Mr. Pettigrew, when you touched the parchment that brought you here, you agreed to become a Death Eater. I am now going to officially make you a member of my army."
Peter nodded slowly, and held out his left arm.
Voldemort pushed back the sleeve of Peter's robes. He placed his hand on Peter's forearm, muttering an incantation.
Peter screamed in pain as the Dark Mark was blazed into his arm.