Previously in the Darklyverse: Reg insisted on breaking Peter out of Azkaban along with the rest of the Order. The Order tried to reveal Voldemort's death to the rest of the country. Remus and Sirius became boyfriends again.

xx

November 7th, 1982: Peter Pettigrew

Peter wishes he were back in Azkaban.

It wouldn't be his first choice, of course. His first choice would be to bring Emmeline back to life or make it so that she never died—to tell someone when Alecto Carrow started to blackmail him, or maybe to make it so that she never approached him in the first place. But he accepted months or years ago that none of those things are possible: he made the choices he did, and now he's got to live with them. He became a spy, and he let Emmeline die probably thinking that he hated her or blamed her for his own mistakes, and all those things have become just another part of who he is.

Being free of Azkaban, on the other hand, isn't a choice that Peter made: it's something that was done to him, and he hasn't had very much time to sit with that and learn to accept it, either. Maybe Peter messed up by turning himself in to the Ministry—his information ended up putting away the rest of the Order instead of any Death Eaters—but at least when he was in Azkaban he was getting what he deserved; he never asked for anybody to swoop in and save him. He never would have wanted anybody to swoop in and save him.

In any case, Azkaban was no picnic, but it wasn't as hard on Peter as it clearly was on most if not all of the others. He knew while he was in there that justice had been served to him: a lifetime of unhappiness was exactly what was facing him. It was right, and it was true, and it was what he wanted because he shouldn't get to feel happy after everything he'd done. Knowing that kept him sane in there, and even though he was miserable, he still felt like himself—he still knew what was real and what was just and what was happening to him.

Besides, it's like he told Frank while they were in there: being surrounded by dementors in his every waking moment allowed Peter to feel closer to Emmeline, like he could finally better understand what she went through in her depression. It was like carrying around a little piece of her inside him that wasn't just a memory. It was happening at that moment, and it was making him feel connected to her in ways he never understood before, at least not on the same level.

In spite of everything he's done, Peter doesn't believe he's a bad person—he's said as much to Frank and Sirius and the others, and he meant it—but even good people deserve punishment for doing bad things. He belonged in Azkaban. He got what was coming to him, and he could have lived with that for the rest of his life if it meant he wouldn't forget how it felt to feel what Emmeline did.

He never asked for Reg to pull him out of there. He never wanted to be here in the attic with Sirius hollering at him for something Peter didn't even decide. If he's going to be pissed at Peter, fine, be pissed at him—but do it because of Peter's own choices, not because of a choice that Reg made for him without asking.

If Reg had asked—if Peter had had a hand in his own fate—would he have left that place? He hopes he wouldn't have. He certainly tells himself he wouldn't have—that it's not Peter's fault he's on the outside. Then again, five and a half years ago, he was telling himself that he'd never betray his friends to the Death Eaters, and look how that turned out.

The worst part of the attic at Grimmauld Place is the boredom. It's not that Azkaban was chock-full of external ways to entertain yourself, but the dementors kept Peter plenty busy in his head torturing himself with guilt over everything he'd done, with frustration about the rest of the Order treating him like he's unequivocally evil. It distracted him—passed the time. Besides, he had Frank to talk to anytime he wanted to pull himself out of his mind a little. Here, there's nothing to do but sit on the window ledge and wait for his next meal to arrive or until it's time to go to sleep, and Peter feels like he's constantly on the verge of screaming or, maybe, of bashing his head against the wooden floor until it kills him.

His favorite meals are the ones that Sirius, Frank, and Reg deliver to him. Alice and James haven't come up here at all, and Lily and Remus just drop off the food and leave without a word to him—but Sirius gets angry when he comes to the attic, and it gives Peter something to live for, something interesting to do. He stays longer when Peter talks back—defends himself—so he's learned to do so as much as possible, if only to keep Sirius up here with him. Frank, on the other hand, clearly still feels guilty about all those conversations they had in their adjoining Azkaban cells, but he's obviously feeling conflicted enough about Peter that he's still willing to come up here with dinner every once in a while. It's good: it gives Peter something like a relationship to foster, even if he can't call it a friendship.

Of course, it's usually Reg who brings Peter's food, and he's the best of all—because he's the one who insisted on busting Peter out. It's not like Peter feels so happy about this—Peter wasn't supposed to get free—but he usually sits up here and stays and talks until Peter's done eating, and it's always, always, the most interesting part of Peter's day. It's not like they talk about anything important—Reg isn't exactly looping Peter in on Order secrets—but sometimes he'll mention funny things that Harry's done recently or developments with the others, like when Ted started feeding himself again or when Sirius and Remus got back together.

Peter's genuinely surprised when Reg tells him this last point at dinner one day. "And you're telling me this?" Peter says thickly through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "Are you sure the two of them are okay with me knowing about it?"

"Why wouldn't they be? It's not like they're keeping it secret from anyone."

"Yeah, but I'm not just 'anyone,' am I? Not to sound arrogant, but…"

Reg chuckles a little. "If anything, I'd think they'd want you to know that they've found happiness without you."

"And they do seem happy? I can't really say about Remus, but I only ever see Sirius act pissed when he comes up here, but I'm guessing he's not always like that."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think they're happy—or as happy as they can be under the circumstances, anyway."

He's delving into dangerous territory, but—Peter's so bored, and it's not like he's not curious, and the words come out before he can stop them. "The war's not going well, is it?"

Reg pauses. "You know I can't talk to you about that."

"But—you trust me enough not to think I'm going to try and escape. You trusted me enough to bring me back with the others."

"I wouldn't say I trust you. I just—couldn't leave you in there in good conscience. Anyway, it's not my call to make; there are things I couldn't share even if I wanted to."

"Can you at least tell me what happened to Carrow?"

"Carrow?"

"Yeah. Alecto Carrow. She was my liaison in the Death Eaters—she's the only name I was able to give the Ministry when I turned myself in. Is she in Azkaban? I didn't hear her in there, but I wasn't close enough to hear most people."

"We…" Reg suddenly looks apprehensive. "Our Aurors were arrested soon enough that they wouldn't have heard what was done with the rest of your testimony, but nothing about her being accused or imprisoned was reported in the Prophet. I'm sorry."

Shit. "What about Snape? He was a Death Eater, too, and he had loads more contact with them than I ever did. Didn't they get his testimony against them when they arrested him?" Reg shakes his head. "So that's it, then? You think that's Malfoy's administration is covering for them?"

"I… we can't do this, Peter. We can't have this conversation."

"Okay." Peter slumps back in his seat and pushes his empty plate forward. "I understand. I'm done now; you can go if you need to."

"Well, I—dinner for the rest of us won't be ready for a while yet. I can stay for a little bit."

"Why? I don't understand—I've never understood. Why throw your whole life away to help any of us? Why wipe our arses and feed us? Why me when I was working against your wife all this time?"

"Mary wasn't in the Order when you were—not after the first couple of months, anyway."

"Yeah, but she joined back up with them after I left. She never stopped caring."

Reg raises his eyebrows. "How do you know Mary went back to the Order, anyway? None of us have ever understood how you would know that—or how you managed to turn in the Weasleys or the Tonkses or Kingsley."

"I—was living in Arthur and Molly's house as their kid's pet rat for a while. I heard stuff."

Grimacing, Reg says, "You—were a kid's pet rat?"

"It was extraordinarily dull, but I got lucky with the family I found—it kept me in the loop."

"And you wanted to be in the loop? I would have thought, after you turned your back on the Order…"

"Doesn't mean I didn't still care—or that I don't still care." Peter shrugs. "I may be a monster, but I still want my friends to be okay. Er—former friends. I know I don't have any left anymore."

Reg stares at him for a second. When his eyes snap down, he mutters, "You've got a friend. You've got me."

"You'd do that? You'd be my friend? After everything I did?"

"Everybody needs friends," he says simply, "just like nobody deserves dementors."

"And you'd say that about Death Eater scum like me? You'd say that about Voldemort? You're telling me that if You-Know-Who were captured tomorrow, he wouldn't deserve the Kiss?"

"It's not my problem, is it? You-Know-Who isn't getting captured tomorrow."

"But if he were—"

"He's not. Peter, You-Know-Who is dead."

That stops Peter in his tracks. "What? When? How—?"

"Lily," Reg whispers. "Right after the mass imprisonment. He's dead, and they covered it up. The only people who believe it are the ones who are willing to believe The Quibbler."

"The Quibbler? But—"

"I've said too much," Reg insists. He picks up Peter's plate and rises to his feet. "Moody's waiting outside to put the barrier back up so I can leave."

"Don't go. Please don't go. You don't know what it's like up here with nothing to do and no one to talk to. I can't…"

This is always the worst part—the fallout when Reg or whoever else comes upstairs leaves Peter alone again. He never realizes how starved he's been for companionship until it leaves him—feels the ache so, so much worse in the first few hours it's gone than he does after he's had time to get used to how it feels again. Peter's not supposed to want good things for himself—he's not allowed to want good things for himself—but just because he shouldn't want any respite doesn't mean he doesn't, and…

He tries to think about Emmeline. This isolation—even with Peter, she felt it, too.