Disclaimer: Don't own this. I own other things, though, which I will one day publish. Hopefully.

A/N: So…don't line up to hurt me now, seeing as it's been MONTHS since I've posted…because at the end of this, you're going to want to hurt me even more.

Of Cowards and Heroes

Chapter12

Unknown Location, England, 1981

"Finite Incantatem," the voice whispered, a little bit louder than it should have been thanks to an odd mixture of smugness and relief that its owner was feeling. Shutting the door tightly behind him, Peter Pettigrew sighed deeply before staring at his wand in a combination of fascination and horror. The unassuming, reddish stick of wood could either save him or damn him, all depending on when and into whose hands it fell.

'But it's just a safeguard,' he told himself, taking a deep, calming breath to soothe his nerves. 'If – no, when it all happens, then I won't need it.'

Still he frowned, even deeper so as he cast the spell in question, blue smoke pouring out of his wand to form a screen upon two figures were depicted, undeniably Peter Pettigrew and James Potter.

"There's…just been so much trouble with Lily, lately," screen James was saying. "I hate that it has to be this way, Pete, but…if you do this for me…"

"It'll all be taken care of, Prongs," screen Peter assured him. "I understand."

'And I should be crying with relief right now,' the real Peter thought. That day;s meeting was supposed to be their last before it all happened; he'd recorded every single one of those conversations. But there had been just a hint of doubt in James's voice, just a little bit too much suspicion in his eyes for Peter to be truly comfortable, and so, minutes before he was to leave for Godric's Hollow to become the Potters' Secret Keeper, he knelt down in front of his fireplace, calling for one Miss. Cassandra Rosier.

"Cassandra?" he began once she appeared in the fire. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, but if you could do me a favour, I'd greatly appreciate it."

Cass Rosier's flat, England, 1981

Cassandra stared, momentarily mesmerized by the shimmering surface of the pensieve Peter had dropped off; something, apparently, for Remus, that he and James had been working on, but didn't want him to find just yet. 'Huh,' Cassandra thought. 'Remus's birthday isn't for another nine months – and Christmas is a full two months off…' Shaking her head, she placed it carefully inside the cardboard box she'd pulled out of storage, labelling it 'Pensieve' in her careful, flowing script.

"Cass?" Remus's voice came suddenly, and she started, quickly shoving back into the furthermost corner of her closet before hurrying out of her room to greet the newly arrived Remus.

"I'm here, Remus…hi!"

Six months later, having managed to salvage some of Cassandra's possessions before her family took all that had belonged to their now dead daughter, Remus found himself holding a large brown box stating that it contained a pensieve in Cassandra's distinctive script.

"I wasn't supposed to show you!" she had cried, unable to restrain her laughter at the stern expression on Remus's face. "Peter and James were working on it; Peter just dropped it off this evening."

He had grinned then, promising not to touch it or mention that he knew of its existence. The next morning though, on that fateful Halloween, he'd stopped by Godric's Hollow, and while holding Harry, blurted out that he knew about the pensieve James and Peter had made. James, predictably, had gone a bit red before laughing it off and remarking that 'Lily gave things away all the time' and that it was 'no harm done'.

But there had been a split second of confusion, intermingled with deep suspicion before James had laughed, and Remus couldn't help but feel unnerved by the look on his friends face. 'Then again', he told himself bitterly, 'James always suspected me, didn't he?'

Fighting back tears, Remus carefully placed the box away inside another, much larger container before closing it tightly.

"I won't think about it," he firmly told himself. "I'll just forget."

And some fifteen years later, the box still went unnoticed.

Unknown Location, Nov 2nd, 1996

"Ah, Lupin…I see you have survived your transformation," the voice stated, disappointment oozing from every syllable. The tired, rather haggard looking Remus paid it no attention and simply smiled wryly.

"You do sound glad to hear it, Severus; I appreciate the sentiment." He returned, before assuming a rather more serious expression. "Professor Dumbledore said that I was to speak to you regarding what I missed at yesterday's meeting."

"Oh, yes," Snap grudgingly admitted, before sighing as he took a seat in the armchair opposite Remus. The two men were in the large sitting room of the old house, the roaring fireplace between them giving the otherwise cold, high-ceilinged room some much needed warmth. But, despite the fact that it was a rather chilly November, the house, who's owner Dumbledore had so far declined to identify, felt much warmer and far more welcoming than the dank, dark corridors of their former headquarters at Grimmauld Place.

And, much to their surprise, Severus Snape and Remus Lupin had found the reason for their great relief upon leaving it to be mutual; no longer did they feel so haunted by Sirius Black. Even stranger, the two found themselves closer than ever, and so it was that the tall Potions master was quite civilly reporting the various specifics of the previous day's deliberations.

"I'm not sure I understand, Severus; you said that their mission was…to do what to Malfoy?"

"I understand that your mind is not quite yet up to speed."

Lupin laughed, its hoarseness momentarily echoing the bark-like laughter of his now dead best friend.

"Yes, yes, so, please, go a little slower on this transformation addled mind of mine."

Snape's mouth twitched upwards as the faintest hint of a smile passed across his face, returned in kind by a tired one from Remus. "It is, I suppose, slightly problematic. As far as I have been able to ascertain, Malfoy, Rockwood, Nott, Pettigrew, and a woman have all left the country; perhaps even the continent – and the reason appears to be Malfoy; that is, a Malfoy."

"Ah," Remus nodded his comprehension, and then frowned. "Narcissa is at home, and one would think in a very secure position thanks to this past July – Draco…is something wrong at school?"

"Mm – not that I am aware of, although he was recently betrothed, with the full approval of both his parents to a Miss Nadia Zabini; still, nothing that would supposedly send his father and three other Deatheaters abroad."

"Nadia Zabini? Surprising."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell?"

'Well, Harry's letters have been full of nothing but her these past few weeks', Remus thought, but outwardly waved the query off with a gesture of hand.

"Her elder sister died in rather tragic and mysterious circumstances, so it has been said that she was most likely a squib; so I'm merely surprised that the Malfoys chose Miss. Zabini regardless of that fact."

"Her father is the heir to the Zabini fortune; she is an only child, considered-" Sanpe spat out the word with distaste "-pretty, by her peers; does well academically and although a powerful witch in her own right, has demonstrated a maturity beyond her years in preferring the understated in what she does."

Remus blinked several times before grinning widely, opening his mouth to tease Snape mercilessly for his uncharacteristic praise of a student when the dark haired man smirked.

"She is one of my Slytherins, Lupin, and although a year younger, already rivals some of Granger's scores. Please, let me have my moment of pride."

Remus, however, was frowning again. "Three other Deatheaters?" he queried. "I thought you said…"

"Malfoy, Rookwood, Nott, Pettigrew and a woman, who, unless Voldemort has recruited more women without my knowledge, is not Bellatrix and almost certainly not a Deatheater."

Snape almost smiled again as he saw the wheels of Remus's mind turning; the werewolf quickly coming to what he was privately convinced was the right conclusion.

"Personal vendetta, then?

"It would seem so, yes, apparently for this woman; and that would suggest that they are looking for a someone related to Malfoy-"

"-and finding them must further Voldemort's cause if four of them would risk his anger at simply leaving the country for such an extended period of time."

Snape settle back into his chair, staring at the fire rather morosely. "Good, good, so you've grasped the basics, but before we even begin to consider what on earth it is they're doing, we will need to know who the woman is and what personal vendetta the five of them could possibly have in common."

And that's it, folks, that's as far as I wrote in this story before reading HBP. Which, in doing so, dealt a lethal blow to my love of fanfiction reading and writing; this is the first time I've touched the stuff since I read the book, and that's only to post this last tid-bit. I've thoroughly appreciated all your reviews, but instead of opening up a new world of questions and ideas to write about, HBP pretty much closed it all down. (despite the fact that I tremendously enjoyed the book).

Having said that – I am, at least for the foreseeable future, completely giving up fanfiction; if you see me anywhere on the site, it may be over at the LOTR section, but even that is doubtful. I'm still writing, and getting a lot of original stuff done, but all my stories here are being abandoned for the time being. If anyone would like to continue this story, or even my Summer at the Vale story, just let me know by a review or email; and those I'll probably read; otherwise, this is it.

It's been great, ya'll.

-Laren