Chapter 2

2.11.1981

It was icy at the graveyard. The snow flakes and the strong wind caused Sirius Black to shiver but he didn't sense the coldness. Since Halloween it seemed that he was only able to feel hate and desperation while the picture of the destroyed Godric's Hollow was constantly hovering before his eyes. He turned his head and let his gaze wander over the crowd. He was surprised that so many people had come to the funeral. But actually he shouldn't be.

The Potters had been respected highly and had been loved by many. They had fought with a bravery against Voldemort which not many possessed. They had been one of the old wizard families and now they had been killed. James' and Lily's bodies had been found in the ruins of Godric's Hollow but not Harry's. The young man closed pained his eyes as he imagined how the ruins of the house had buried Harry underneath and again he sensed how the feeling of guilt weighed him down.

Why hadn't he seen that the traitor was Peter? In the last two days he had asked himself this question countless times but he hadn't been able to find an answer. Even now he couldn't believe that he had been so completely wrong about his former friend. But also the query after the reason of Peter Pettigrew's betrayal was gnawing at him all the time. He was unable to understand it. Why had Peter handed his best friends over to Voldemort? How on earth could he have done that?

Sirius gazed up in the grey dark sky if there he would find an answer and remembered how difficult it had been to convince Dumbledore and the others that he hadn't been the secret keeper but Peter. Only his pleas to testify under Veritaserum had saved him from Askaban and finally they had believed him. Sirius shuddered at the thought what would have happened if they hadn't done it; although he actually deserved it. If he hadn't persuaded James to take Peter but instead had become himself the secret keeper as James had wanted this from the beginning, then his best friend, Lily and his little godson would be still alive. Sirius gave a loud sob and while the pain overwhelmed him, he began bitterly to cry.

Remus Lupin who was standing a few metres next Sirius was mourning as well. Silent tears were streaming down his haggard, careworn face. James, Lily and Harry had been his family. The only one he had ever known. His friends had accepted him and never had they treated him with contempt and disdain, not like all the others had done it as soon as they discovered that he was a were-wolf. Without James' connections to the Minister of Magic it would have never been possible for him to become an Auror. They had helped him and supported him, wherever they could. But, as they had needed help, he hadn't been there for them.

He hadn't been able to prevent the attack on them. They all were dead and Harry, he had been only one year old. Was that justice? Remus felt such a pain that he could have immediately killed Peter without wasting a thought. Peter however had vanished without a trace since Halloween. Since then no one had seen him. Probably he had run straight to Voldemort to hide from them, Remus thought cynically. Peter. He shook slightly his head.

He had never thought that Peter was a traitor. Yet it was really so obvious. Peter had been the weakest of them, who had possessed the least bravery; always had it been James, Sirius or he himself who had had to help Peter if he had run into trouble, but never had Peter helped one of them. Not, when there had been really any inconveniences. But only now, by hindsight, he realized that.

Turning his head he saw Sirius and for one moment he was filled with anger. Why had he persuaded James to take Peter? Why hadn't he asked him if he hadn't wanted to be the secret-keeper himself? Had Sirius not trusted him? Then his fury disappeared however when noticing Sirius' desperate face. His friend couldn't have known it. No more than it had ever occurred to him that Peter was a spy of Voldemort. He shook unbelievingly his head. How could they all have been so blind? His anger and hate were directed instead on Peter and on this day the were-wolf swore to avenge the Potters and to let Peter pay for his deed.

No one of all those present, who had come to mourn together, noticed the rat which was sitting hidden behind a tree and staring at the graveyard. Peter's eyes wandered over the many people and said over and over again to himself that he had had to do it that he hadn't had the tiniest choice as the Dark Lord had demanded from him to give away the whereabouts of the Potters. He would have been killed if he had refused. It hadn't been his fault. But why was he feeling so miserably then? He hadn't had a choice and he wouldn't think about this anymore. There was no point to it anyway. It was over. James, Lily and Harry were dead. The rat spun around and run as fast as it was able to away while the foliage was rustling softly as the animal was rushing through the withered leaves.

Hours later, as a snow storm was howling around the castle of the Dark Lord, a little child was lying in one of the many rooms in a cradle, wrapped firmly in his warm blankets and had a nightmare. Harry saw a flash of blinding green light racing towards him and heard a cruel cold laugh. Startled the baby tore open his emerald eyes and began to scream. The impenetrable darkness which surrounded him scared him and he called for his mum whom he hadn't seen for so long.

He waited however vainly. His mother didn't come. Instead Nell appeared and tried to soothe him. The little house-elf picked the raven-haired baby up and hugged him cautiously to her while rocking him slightly and murmuring soothing words. In the short time, since she took care of Harry, she had grown fond of the child. She found him so sweet and she pitied him. Although she didn't know what had happened she had realized that it couldn't have been something good. Harry clung to her and looked with his tearstained tiny face up to her.

"Mummy, Mummy!"

Nell only sighed sadly as Harry was asking again after his mother. It tore her to see her little charge so unhappy but she couldn't fulfil his wish. She laid the child back in the cradle and wiped gently his tears off his cheeks. Since the Dark Lord had brought Harry to her, he hadn't visited once over which Nell was only relieved. She feared her master.

Nell covered Harry and sat down on the brink of the bed. As she looked at the child, who had nearly ceased his crying by now and who slowly couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, there she knew that she would protect her little darling against all threats which might occur in the future.