Short AN, no time... posting before school at seven am. Just... R&R!

Peter usually slept like a baby. He knew for a fact that his friends often discussed important things while he was asleep, but it didn't particularly bother him. They'd fill him in later, but he preferred his sleep.

But tonight he hadn't even made his way up to the dorm. He was hunched in an armchair by the fire. Empty sweet wrappers were littered around him, and he nibbled on a bar of Honeydukes' finest as he sat. His day's loot from Hogsmeade was half gone, and he still hadn't worked out what he was going to do.

Flashback

The Three Broomsticks was as warm and comfortable as ever it had been, Madam Rosmerta was making her usual cheery conversation, and the tankard of Butterbeer felt warm between his hands. Peter grinned, leaning back in his seat.

Life was good.

He excused himself to go to the toilet, and as he made his way back to the bar a few minutes later, a tall man with a shadowy face brushed past him. Peter felt a pressure on his hand, and looked down to see his fist grasping a slip of parchment, Opening his palm and uncrumpling it, he read the single sentence quickly.

Honour her memory and join us

Forbidden Forest, Midnight

The symbol below served better than any signature.

It took a moment to register, and once the sentence had fully worked itself into his brain, he felt dizzy. He reached over to grasp the brass rail that ran around the top of the bar to keep his balance and in that moment, a wild possibility flashed through his mind.

Flashback Within a Flashback

"It's just a campaign," Julie insisted, reaching over to grasp his hand. Peter looked at his sister. Five years older, with his same pale skin and watery grey eyes, although her hair was darker, thicker, her face more oval than round. Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm,

"Think about it. A few demonstrations to make sure that you have a better future, where you can go to school with your equals."

"But the papers said…" he started, but Julie interrupted.

"Oh, that was just some cover story cooked up by that old quack Dumbledore. He'll do anything to make his motives appear pure, but it doesn't change anything. He still killed that man."

Peter was doubtful, but he agreed anyway.

"Well, yeah, obviously."

Julie's face broke out into a smile.

"Good kid. In a few years time I'll take you with me. For now, we'll keep this a secret, okay?"

She stood up, picked up her bag, blew him a kiss and closed the door quietly behind her.

End Flashbacks

Peter hugged his knees. His sister had been a wonderful person, sweet, clever (she'd been in Ravenclaw and made his mother proud), not to mention passionate. And her murder had made the front page. Aurors in a bland muggle supermarket. She'd been buying herself a pint of milk.

A bloody pint of milk.

It was Barty Crouch, the madman climbing his way up the political ladder, who'd given the order. Kill on sighting, he'd said. When they'd checked her wand later, it had turned out that the most vicious spell it'd ever cast had been a Jelly Legs Jinx.

But that didn't matter. When your name was on the government hit list, it doesn't matter what your crimes were. They were Unforgivable.

It wouldn't bring his sister back. He knew that. But it could ease the pain, maybe. And he wouldn't know until he tried.

He shivered, although it was almost swelteringly hot in the Common Room.

Yes. He'd do it. After all, he was a Gryffindor. He must have it in him, or else his courage would go to waste, and what better cause could he put it to than to prove to his sister that he'd valued her life? Quickly, cleanly, he'd avenge his sister. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, he'd avenge his sister's death and that'd be the end of it. He'd be in and out before it got too serious, and no one need ever know about it.

He glanced at the clock. Quarter past eleven. He'd better hurry up if he was going to get to the forest in time. Getting up, Peter started to make for the portrait hole. He'd only gone a few steps when he realised that he was still dressed in his striped pyjamas and dressing gown. He'd better get changed if he was going to make a decent impression. He hurriedly mounted the staircase, praying that his friends would already be asleep. If not, he'd just have to meet them as he was.

Slowly pushing open the dorm door, he poked his head around. He was in luck. The lights were all out and three sets of regular breathing told her that his friends were all fast asleep, tired by the long day in the village. Tiptoeing over to his dresser, he pulled open a drawer, wincing as it squeaked.

"Choo doing, Pete?" Remus's voice mumbled sleepily. Peter froze.

"Just… just getting a glass of water," he whispered back, his voice slipping into his habitual squeak.

"Oh."

Peter stood stock still, hearing Remus turn over and settle onto his stomach. As his friend's breathing returned back to its steady rhythm, his every tensed muscle relaxed. He slipped across the room, opening the door a crack and letting a beam of light illuminate his friend's silhouettes. He smiled. His friends would forgive him, eventually. And he'd be able to protect them from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. If it ever came to that.

"I do." James muttered, clearly dreaming about his forthcoming wedding. Peter sighed. James was lucky. James had the perfect life: the beautiful fiancÈ, the rich parents, the Quidditch talent. Not that Peter begrudged him any of it. He couldn't have ever hoped for a better friend, not being the talentless tag-along that he was.

Then it occurred to him. If he was accepted, he could stop the Dark Lord from murdering his friends! He could stop him, beg, barter, plead…

He owed it. To James. To the best friend he'd ever have.

Smiling to himself, he slipped outside and closed the door.

----------

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

Ginny pulled her head out from the crevice beneath Harry's chin and straightened up on the sofa. It was eleven forty five, and although nearly asleep, she'd been keeping half an eye on the Marauder's Map copy, copy that Harry had inherited from the twins. The swiftly moving dot labelled Peter Pettigrew scuttling through the corridors that lead from Gryffindor Tower.

Scuttled, she thought grimly, Just like a rat…

Prodding Harry back into full consciousness, she nodded her bright head at the map. Harry tensed, instantly alert, gently shoving her off his lap to stand up. Reaching for his wand holster inside his sleeve, he gestured for Ginny to follow him out of the door.

----------

Peter felt a rush of adrenalin flood through him as he rushed down the steps leading down to the entrance hall. He was going to do it. He was going to avenge his big sister's death. He was going to save his best friend's life. He was-

"Going somewhere, Pettigrew?"

The voice was almost alarmingly friendly. He shrank back to see Professor Potter leaning casually over the banister, one eyebrow raised.

"Erm… I was just… getting…doing…"

"I think I know exactly what you were doing," Harry's voice became even more silky and pleasant, the poison in it as plain as the scar on his forehead. He leaned further over the banister, and his voice became a low hiss, "I think I know exactly what you were doing. Slipping away to tell the boss, were we? Going to sign my parent's death warrant a few years in advance, are we?"

Peter took a step back, astounded, both by the venom in the voice of the young, friendly teacher and the accusations that had just shot like poison tipped arrows from the man's tongue.

"W…what? I wanted… I'm trying to save…"

"Your own skin? Ha, I already knew that, Pete. But you're not going to get that far. You're not ratting out to your boss that I'm here, understand?"

Peter couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He didn't even hear the cry of 'Obliviate!' that flew from a nearby pillar. Peter looked as though he'd been hit over the head with a mallet. His watery eyes became unfocused, his knees almost buckled, and he sank to the floor, colour high, breathing shallow. Harry gave a twisted smile.

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't understand now."

He nudged Peter with his boot.

"Now get out of my sight. Get on your way, and report to your filthy ranks, got it?"

Peter stumbled to his feet, giving a frightened squeak at the sight of his teacher's pale face and almost tripped over himself rushing down the stairs and out of the great door. Harry's eyes glittered fiercely as he slid to the floor in the spot where Peter had half collapsed moments before. Ginny slipped out from behind the pillar, giving a little sob at the sight of his face. Hurrying over to him, her small hand found his, and she curled up beside him on the cold stone step. It took almost a minute for Harry to choke out a single, dry, sob.