Author's Note: Sorry this chapter was so slow to come, as often happens life has intruded upon my writing. A big thanks to those who are reading and reviewing. The Anonymous Review option has been enabled! (Thank you Mara Jade Jedi for clueing me in!)
Oh! and I seem to have neglected the legal disclaimers. I own nothing! I'm simply playingin J.K. Rowling's sand box.
8
We do not speak again till we have reached the doors of the school when Dumbledore turns to me, "Remus, return to your room and rest. I will send for you later." And then he is gone in a swirl of spangled robes and swift clicking boot heels. I start toward the guest room, but instead find myself wandering though the deserted corridors of the castle. The memories are thick as the smell of my mothers bread once was on her baking days. Full and warm and alluring despite the sour tang of yeast that wove through them.
I realize with a start, that I am standing before the statue of the hump-backed witch that marks the tunnel into Honeydukes. I remember our first venture into that dark foreboding space, still unaware of the sweet treasure that lay at its end. At the time it seemed both dangerous and harmless, none of us believing that any ill could come to us despite the risks we took. I can still see each of their faces, so young, and glowing in the wand light. James set and resolute, refusing to give way to the fear lurking just beneath the surface. Sirius was carefree and utterly unconcerned, happy just to be out and roaming in the night. Peter continually jumping away from the shadows and unnamed sounds in the darkness; but following none the less.
None of the revelations of the day have fixed this, I realize. I have only traded one traitor for another, and my little family of trusted friends remains irrevocably broken. I love a traitor just the same, even though not as much nor in the same way, but I loved him. Peter was a brother to me. He was one of the three friends who had brought a hopeful dawn to the lingering dark night of my childhood.
Even still, Sirius had been right today…we were all blind. Peter who had always been far too eager to please…anyone. Peter who loved to hover at the edges of brilliance, but could never quiet obtain it. Peter whose mind could be changed and convictions be altered by nothing more than a nod or suggestion. Peter who had made a habit of hiding in the shadows of bigger, stronger more powerful wizards. Peter, the rat. Peter. Of course Peter would be the one to turn to, what had seemed for a time the unbeatable force that was Voldemort. I can not decide if we had overestimated him or underestimated him. Regardless, we had trusted him and it had been a deadly mistake.
The bitterness that rises in me is breath taking, followed closely by rage and confusion. Peter. The change in my feelings is remarkable…When I thought Sirius was our betrayer I was so torn, so shamed. Now I know it to be Peter, it is like a switch has been flipped inside me and that unbearable static of emotion is gone. There is a cold stillness within me, because this, this makes sense. I can understand that Peter would turn from us. I can understand that my friendship with him was misplaced, where as I could never comprehend that my love of Sirius was. I am angry. I am bitter and hurt, but I can comprehend that hero-worship might become something darker.
Darker…really the darkest part is I want it to have been Peter, childhood friend or not something despicably like joy leaps inside me when I consider that it was him, and not Sirius. No, there are no escapes from shame. This is a weakness, surely, that at the first words suggesting Sirius' innocence are what I would grasp and cling to. I know that accepting Sirius' claims has far more to do with my heart making sense of this, than my head. I desperately wanted to believe it was anyone, anyone other than Sirius. I can't help but wonder, if it had been someone else that he had named, or if he had claimed imperius or cracking under torture…or any of a thousand possibilities, would I have believed him so easily?
To my shame I can't claim I wouldn't have. It leaves me feeling like a traitor myself. First I accepted, never truly believed but accepted, it was Sirius. Now, with only a few words and so little proof I believe it is Peter. I've never thought of myself as fickle, but here the proof lies. I believe Sirius, because I want to believe. My friendship with Peter be damned, I want to believe my lover is innocent. It is shameful and even pathetic, but it is at least true. Heaven knows there's been to little truth about lately.
I sigh, exhausted and with my head aching I return to my room and fall into something that resembles sleep.
