Previously in the Darklyverse: Peter found out about James's death. Sirius and Remus saved Peter from the beginning of a suicide attempt. The Order debated how to deal with the Death Eaters they took prisoner in the attic after a raid. With Lily in the hospital in Canada, the Order petitioned for political asylum.

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December 16th, 1982: Peter Pettigrew

It's been almost two weeks since Peter first learned that James is dead and Sirius still loves him, and he's got no idea how to feel. When he thinks about never being able to see James again—not just because Peter had joined the wrong side of the war and run away, but because James is gone from this world, never to return for anyone, let alone Peter—he feels like he's suffocating. Even through the layers of hardness Peter developed between becoming a spy and turning himself in, as he tried over and over to convince himself that his actions were justified and Marlene and the others deserved what they got, it's not like Peter could forget what the Marauders meant to him for so long. James being dead makes the war real and final and unforgiving in a way that even working for Carrow never did.

And yet—there's hope. There's hope because Sirius still gives a shit about Peter, enough so that he doesn't want to see him die—wants to save him—wants to find some kind of reconciliation. It doesn't even matter that what Sirius wants isn't possible, that Peter can never undo what he did to make himself unforgivable in Sirius's eyes: a part of Sirius wants to forgive him, and that's more than Peter could ever have dreamed of.

Sirius hasn't come up to the attic since the blowout when he rescued Peter from his feeble attempt at suicide. It's been a long couple of weeks clinging to hope that he'll see Sirius again, but a little hope goes a long way in this attic, especially when he's gone without it for so long. In the meantime, at least, he's had company three times a day in the form of Reg, who has taken to delivering all of Peter's meals and talking to him as he eats. He hasn't been able to worm much more information out of Reg about what's happening outside the attic, but it's enough just not to be alone every minute of the day—to have something stable to look forward to that he knows will help pass the time.

He doesn't know much about what's going on with the Order, but he's done his best to piece together a picture in his mind. The Death Eaters are running themselves and have covered up Voldemort's death and captured control of the Ministry, who weren't the slightest bit interested in having Snape testify against the Death Eaters. For some reason, The Quibbler is the only publication that's reported on Voldemort's death, and most people think it's a hoax. The Order considered recruiting school kids to help their cause, but Peter's vote killed it. And the Order has clearly been going on raids again because they managed to capture a few Death Eaters—how could Peter forget with the ruckus they make every day and night at the other end of the attic?

That night, he's just thinking to himself how much he'd like Carrow and her friends to shut the fuck up so he can get some sleep when, suddenly, the bellowing shifts. Usually, the Death Eaters are incoherent—but now, they fall silent all too quickly, and then Peter hears one of the men unmistakably jeer, "You're pathetic, showing up here all heroic and dirty and reformed—"

Peter doesn't hear the incantation, but he sure as hell hears what comes next—a grunt, a dull thud, and renewed shouting. "Let me see you try that again in a fair fight, Snape!" demands a voice that unmistakably belongs to Carrow. "Even at Hogwarts, you were never one to fight back against bullies unless you knew for damn sure you could come out on top—"

This time, Peter hears the Avada Kedavra. Carrow's words die in her throat, and through his shock, Peter feels a dim sense of triumph, immediately followed by regret that he couldn't be the one to off her.

He doesn't know why Snape is suddenly killing off Death Eaters, and he doesn't really care—at least it gives Peter a little entertainment and means that he might actually get some goddamn sleep at a reasonable time tonight.

That's when it occurs to him that, when Snape is done with his Death Eater buddies, he's probably coming for Peter next.

"REG!" shrieks Peter as loudly as he can. "REG! SIRIUS! REMUS! ANYONE—IT'S SNAPE—HE'S KILLING THE DEATH EATERS—HE'S USED AVADA KEDAVRA TWICE—HE'S GOING TO KILL ME WHEN HE'S DONE WITH THEM—PLEASE—"

The third incantation of the night is barely audible through Peter's screaming, but the silence from next door afterward is more than enough to warn Peter that Snape's gone through all three Death Eaters and is coming for him next. He's crying now—wet cheeks and great, ugly sobs—and a detached part of Peter's mind marvels at the fact that he could be so afraid to die when just days ago he tried to commit suicide up here.

He's not done yet. There's still a chance Sirius wants him, and if there's any possibility Peter can redeem himself, he can't walk away until he's managed it.

"PADFOOT, I'M SORRY—I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU NEED—I'LL BE GOOD—I'LL HATE MYSELF—I'LL BE MISERABLE—JUST DON'T LET HIM KILL ME BEFORE I CAN FIX THINGS—"

The door to Peter's attic room bangs open. "I would have come for you first," Snape sneers, "if I'd known you'd be the most—"

But the most what Peter is he doesn't here, because Snape has made a fatal mistake: he's come here alone, entered the room without setting up a barricade, and brought his wand to finish Peter off. Snape's never come up here to feed Peter before, and he must have forgotten: Peter's not bound in place; his legs are free to carry him forward, and his hands are free to steal the wand and turn it on Snape.

To his credit, Snape doesn't go down without a fight, but it's a weak one. Peter isn't tough, but neither is Snape—neither of them ever was, especially not now that they've barely had room to stretch their legs in months. Azkaban may have taken the strength out of Peter, but it took it out of Snape, too. Physically, they're evenly matched—but whatever it is Snape's fighting for, the stakes for him aren't life and death, and his will isn't anywhere near as powerful as Peter's desire to live.

"INCARCEROUS!" shouts Peter. But it's no good: he hasn't performed a spell in months, and it's his first time using this particular wand. Nothing happens.

He can hear footsteps dashing up the stairs. There's a real chance Snape could take the wand back and kill Peter with it before help arrives, but Peter doesn't need to best him: all he's got to do is keep the wand away from Snape long enough for somebody to save him. It occurs to him that he could Disapparate—or at least try to; for all he knows, the Order has warded the attic against Apparition—but where would he go? He did the isolation thing, and he was miserable—and if he leaves, he'll never turn Sirius back to his favor.

He kicks Snape in the chest and cracks the wand into pieces.

"Stupefy."

Snape drops to the ground. Peter whirls around to find standing in the doorway—

"Alice?"

She looks a little worse for wear, with a darkness behind her eyes that wasn't there the last time Peter saw her. Shit: he suddenly realizes he hasn't laid eyes on her since before he admitted to being a Death Eater spy in October of last year, fourteen full months ago. Her blonde hair and nightgown are both mussed with sleep.

She smiles wryly. "He shouldn't have done that. It's not how we voted."

"But—what's happening?"

"You didn't Disapparate," Alice points out, ignoring his question. "Hell, you could have killed him right here, and you didn't. You snapped the wand. Why?"

Peter shrugs. "If I leave now, I'll never win anybody back."

"And you still want that? To win us back?"

He hesitates. "Yes," he says simply, finally.

Additional footsteps chase up the stairs, and then—Peter's stomach jolts—Andromeda and Ted appear in the doorway. "What's going on?" says Andromeda. "We thought they were just carrying on like they always do, but then we heard somebody shouting something about Avada Kedavra—"

"Snape killed the Death Eaters," explains Peter, nodding at Snape's prone figure on the floor. "He came in here for me, but I broke his wand. Alice Stunned him."

"Go wake Reg, Sirius, and Remus," says Alice in a low voice. "I'll stay here with him."

"Not Lily?" Peter can't help asking as Andromeda nods curtly and disappears.

Something indecipherable crosses Alice's face. "Lily isn't here," she finally tells him. "We had Sirius's house-elf take her to a Canadian hospital two weeks ago."

"The hospital? Is she okay?"

"She made a full recovery. She's in holding in prison there while we wait on our asylum petition to go through."

Ted hedges, "Alice, are you sure we should be telling him—?"

"He's going to find out sooner or later if the Canadian Ministry decides in our favor. Can you go head off anybody else trying to come up here? I want to talk to Pettigrew alone before Remus and Sirius and Reg get up here."

And then—it's just the two of them. Hungry for companionship, Peter can't stop staring at her. "You've never come up here before to bring my meals or clean the toilet or washbasin. I thought for sure you were going to hate me forever."

"Nah," says Alice in a forced-casual voice. "I was… out of my head for a while at first. Apparently, I had one of the worst reactions to being in Azkaban. It's better now, and I could have started coming to see you, but I guess I just… didn't want to face you."

"Because you think I'm a monster?"

"Because I don't think you're a monster," she corrects him, "but I don't know what that makes you, and I wasn't keen to try to figure it out. I've had bigger things to worry about."

"Like—getting asylum in Canada?" says Peter, trying to wrap his brain around this new piece of information.

She shakes her head. "Like when I'm ever going to get to see Neville again."

Suddenly, Peter feels like a moron. "Of course—he's not here with you. I'm sorry. Do you know if he's…?"

"Safe? Yes, he is. He's living with Frank's mum, but we're hoping to take him back if our petition is accepted and we move to Canada."

"And what about me? If the rest of the Order takes refuge in Canada, what happens to me?"

"We… aren't sure, to be honest. You haven't broken any of their laws on their territory, so we're not sure if they'd imprison you themselves. Under normal circumstances, they'd deliver you back to Azkaban, but they know from us by now that Azkaban and the British Ministry are both in the hands of the Death Eaters—Canada's not going to trust Britain with anything as heavy as your fate."

"And Snape? He just gets off scot free for killing three Death Eaters and nearly offing me, too?"

"Snape… I'm not sure. We'll have to leave him to Reg and Sirius to decide."

Peter points out, "If you leave him to his own devices, there's a strong possibility he's going to try again to kill me and succeed in it this time."

"He won't," comes a gravelly voice from the doorway. "I'll see to that."

It's Sirius, who's come upstairs with Remus in tow. Peter can't believe his luck tonight. "Padfoot—Moony—my friends—"

"We're not your friends," says Sirius harshly.

"Sirius—" Alice starts.

"He's right, Al," says Remus quietly, firmly. "We haven't been friends for a long time—longer than any of us ever knew, until a year ago. I don't know what he is, but he's not our friend."

Andromeda reappears with Reg in tow; he dashes to Peter's side and starts fussing over him immediately. "I'm okay," says Peter numbly. "He didn't get to me."

"But he could have," says Reg. "Shit. I'm so sorry, Peter. You weren't exactly supposed to be happy up here, but you were at least supposed to be safe, and we failed you on that count tonight."

"He didn't try to run," Alice says now. "He could have—he had time—but he didn't. I think we should at least—we can put a spell on the perimeter of the house so that he can't leave it, but I think it's time we let him out of this attic."

"Absolutely not," Sirius growls. "You know what he's done. Have you forgotten that Marlene is dead because of him?"

"Pads," says Remus softly, "I'm not saying he deserves full freedom, but he got himself in over his head, that's all. We all know we wouldn't be in this situation if Carrow hadn't been blackmailing him—if he hadn't been trying to protect us, at least in the beginning."

Reg says, "We don't have to decide anything tonight. Let's just—move Severus into the room where the other three used to be kept before we wake him up, so that he can't come after Peter when he does. I'll stay here with Peter tonight."

"Reg, you don't have to—"

"Yes," says Reg firmly, "I do."

Remus is looking at Reg like he's never seen anything like him before. "I will never understand why you do any of the things you do, my friend."

Reg just twists his lips and says, "Someone's got to do it. Someone's got to stand up for people who don't have a voice."

"You can't bring her back," says Sirius, and Peter realizes in an instant that he's talking about Mary. "You can't make it right that she's dead by taking care of the rest of her old friends. She was a bloody lesbian, Reg; she didn't even love you."

"No," agrees Reg, "but I loved her, and I can never make right the fact that we were fighting about her involvement with your lot when she died. This is the least I can do to tip the scales."

Peter's pretty sure anything he could try to say here would just make him look bad in comparison to Reg's portrayal of him, so he keeps quiet until ten minutes later, when everybody but Reg has filtered out of the attic and Alice has locked them both inside the room. "Thanks for defending me," Peter mutters.

"There's nothing to thank me for. I'm not doing it for you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know—you're doing it because you believe in the goodness of humanity. Still—thanks."

Awkwardly, Reg accepts this and nods. "You're welcome, I guess. So, uh, I can take the floor tonight—"

"No, you should take the mattress. It's lumpy and has got springs poking out in places, though, so don't think I'm doing you any huge favor."

Reg laughs. "All right, then."

You'd think it would take Peter a long time to fall asleep there on the floor, but he has to force himself to keep his eyes open and his ears peeled for Reg's breathing. After all, this might be the only overnight companionship Peter ever gets again in his miserable life—whatever comes next, he wants to savor this.

In his dreams that night, he hates himself just a little more.

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END OF PART TWENTY-FIVE