Chapter Seven

Severus apparated into the street of little terraced houses in Rickmansworth where Peter Pettigrew lived, startling a handful of pigeons as he did.

He knocked on the door of number 22 - noting that the green paint was peeling off … A wizard of any skill should be able to sort that in the flick of a wand - but then Pettigrew had never had much in the way of skill.

The door opened just a crack and a beady eye peered through, 'who is it?'

Although the eye was cautious, the voice was hopeful - as if its owner was expecting something good to be at the door.

'An old school … acquaintance ,' Severus said. 'I'll not say friend.'

The door was pulled open fully, revealing plump little Peter standing there, blinking in the weak winter sunshine. 'Severus…' his voice now sounded high pitched and nervous. 'This is a ...why are you…'

'Perhaps I could come inside - instead of standing on the doorstep for every muggle to see. I am here on official business.'

Pettigrew gulped, 'official?'

'Dumbledore sent me.'

'Dumbledore?'

'Inside,' Severus said - and pushed his way past into Pettigrew's house. Pettigrew followed him down the hallway - protesting. But Severus ignored him and swept into the living room.

...

He stared around at all the cards and the cookies. 'I see people have been sending their condolences.'

Peter gulped again, and nodded. 'Everyone's been - everyone's been very kind.'

'Ah- huh,' Severus said, slowly and precisely.

'Well - would you - would you care to take a seat?' Peter waved his arm towards a chair.

'No thank you. This is not a social call. I shall not be long - assuming you answer my questions to my satisfaction.'

Peter gulped for a third time, 'well - I don't know - don't know what it is you can want to ask,' he blustered.

...

Snape reached inside his cloak and brought out a copy of The Daily Prophet. He flourished it in Peter's face. 'You've been talking to the press, Pettigrew - you've been lying.'

Peter turned bright red and began to splutter. 'I - well - I - well - don't know … whatever you're insinuating…'

'Stop choking on your own faux outrage,' Severus drawled. He eyed the other man very carefully. 'We both know the stories you are telling Rita Skeeter are false. You and that blasted Potter best friends, Black hanging around on the sidelines - anyone who set foot in Hogwarts during our school years can see the lies for what they are. Now, I don't care about the lies themselves - I'm not here to put the record straight for sainted Potter and his Death Eater chum. Let the world think of Black and the werewolf whatever nasty little things you want to tell them. No - the reason I'm here, the reason I care - is I want to know why you are lying.'

Peter only spluttered some more.

...

Severus tutted in impatience. 'He has Lily's child,' he said. 'Black - his pet halfbreed - they have taken the child and who knows what they plan to do with it. Now, I myself don't particularly care if the only son of James Potter gets tossed in the sea from the seat of that dratted flying motorbike Black was so fond of … but presumably you have some feelings about it all?'

'Well - well of course,' Pettigrew wrung his hands together and looked desperate - his little eyes darted around the room, as if seeking escape. 'Little Harry - no one regrets more than I…'

'Ah -huh,' Severus said again - just as slowly and precisely, like he was weighing up Pettigrew's words, measuring them exactly to discover their worth.

'You have to believe me.'

'You're lying to Rita Skeeter - I'm afraid your word is not really enough right now.'

'I just … well - what difference does it make?' Peter burst out. 'If James loved Sirius more than anyone - all that shows is he was mistaken. That he was fooled by the Dark Lord's spy. Why not change the past? Why not make it seem like James didn't trust him all along - why tell the world he was duped? A trusting fool?'

'Is that how you see him?' Severus barked out his words - a sharp staccato burst of sound.

Pettigrew gulped once again. 'I loved James,' he stuttered, 'but … you must agree, Severus, he trusted the wrong man.'

'And is that all there is to it?' Severus narrowed his eyes, 'a desire to protect the reputation of Potter - stop him looking like an idiot who brought his own death upon himself?' He looked around the room - at all the presents from Peter's well-wishers, 'and to get some fame and sympathy for yourself, no doubt. Is that really all it is?'

Peter wrung his hands again. 'What else is there? I'm weak and I'm foolish, Severus, I never claimed to be anything else.'

'Yes - you are those things- a liar too.' He suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Peter by the collar. Peter squeaked in fear. 'But are you lying to me now? Did Black's betrayal really come as a surprise to you? The werewolf too? Or were you in on it too? - Was it the whole little gang turning on their leader? And now you're turning on them just the same - to save your own stinking skin?'

'Severus!' His voice was high pitched and wavered in panic. 'Think what you're saying -'

Severus tightened his hold on Peter's collar and Peter was cut off, choking.

'I am thinking. I'm thinking that a liar can tell many lies to many different people. But if you are lying to me …' He glared into the smaller man's eyes and left the threat dangling.

'I swear - on my mother's life! Black and I were working on different sides.'

...

Severus let go of him, then, with a grunt of disgust - thrusting him away with such force that Peter stumbled back a few steps. 'I suppose a weak little thing like you would never dare stand before the Dark Lord.'

Peter just cowered - and this seemed to confirm what Severus was thinking. 'Very well - but I'll be keeping an eye on you.'

'For what?'

But Severus didn't answer - and instead just swept from the room. After a moment, there was the sound of the front door banging and - left alone - Peter took in some great, gasping gulps of air.

...

His hands were shaking. This was no good - that had been a close call. He needed to be careful. But he also needed to compose himself before his next interview. Tonight's would be a big one.

...

Still sucking in great lungfuls of air, trying to calm his furious heart rate and stop his hands from trembling, he unstoppered a bottle of finest oak matured mead, which Madam Rosmerta had sent him just yesterday, and poured himself a glass to steady his nerves.


That night, after they had put Harry to bed, Sirius and Remus switched on the radio - Remus tapping it with his wand to tune them into the Wizarding Wireless Network - and sat in the narrow kitchen - at the table - to listen to it.

Sirius brought out a bottle of red wine. Remus raised his eyebrows - 'planning on celebrating?'

'Nah - I was thinking more along the lines of "we might need this" … to listen in to whatever Wormtail has to say.' He poured them both a generous glass.

...

On the radio, Celestina Warbeck finished warbling her love song and the announcer's voice came over the waves . 'And now a special treat for our listeners at WWN - this Saturday evening - we will be talking to none other than Peter Pettigrew about James and Lily Potter, You Know Who and what his downfall means for us all - welcome, Peter.'

...

Remus took a sip of his wine, 'listening to the stories of someone whose friends have been murdered is a "treat" now is it? What is this world coming to?'

'We're best off out of it - Moony, old friend - you'll see. Just the two of us.'

'Three of us.'

'...Yeah... That's what I meant.'

...

'Thanks for having me, Alphonso, it's great to be here,' Peter's voice said.

...

'He sounds really cut up about his loss,' Remus said drily.

'Huh - the little rat.'

...

'So first off - WWN would like to extend their heartfelt condolences for your loss, Peter. Truly - so many of us have lost so much in this terrible war - and now it seems like you are becoming an emblem of all that loss. A symbol. People hear you talk - and they hear their own experiences being told back to them - held up like a mirror. You really have come to represent us all in this time of grief and healing.'

'And people have been so kind,' Peter replied. 'I appreciate it all.'

...

'I bet the fat, little git's enjoying every minute of this,' Sirius said, draining his glass of wine down in one gulp and then pouring himself another. 'Selling his nasty, little stories about us - just so he can get his name in the paper and a victoria sponge cake in the owl post from some doting dear in Dorking.'

'Peter is … well, he's certainly nothing like I ever thought he was.' Remus sighed. 'How much he was hiding. I wonder for how long. I wonder if he always hated us? All those years...' He shook his head.

'One thing he was hiding - Wormey was obviously far cleverer than we ever thought. To pull off something like this.'

But Remus shook his head again. 'Cunning, maybe. Calculating. But not clever. He was never clever - and he still isn't. We shouldn't mistake being a ruthless bastard for being clever, it's not the same thing.'

Sirius looked surprised, 'where did you learn a word like that, Moony? And here I was thinking you were a good boy.'

'Well - I have a devilish friend.'

They glanced at each other - both smiling - and it might not have been just the wine that was making them flush.

...

But away from the warm comfort of their soft smiles and flushed skin, Peter was still hissing his poison over the airwaves:

'You know of all the kindness I have received - I must mention that I had a visit from an old school friend today, and it is those personal touches that really stop the grief from becoming too great to bear. But his visit did remind me of a trick Black and Lupin played back in their school days - one that perhaps really showed us the mettle of their characters before we were old enough for them to really explore what they were.'

...

'Oh here we go,' Sirius muttered. 'What did we do this time?'

...

'It was in our fifth year - during the summer term I believe, not long before we took our OWLS - when Sirius Black and Remus Lupin played a trick on a Slytherin boy which - had it worked - would have undoubtedly led to the boy's death. I don't hesitate for a moment, now, in saying my former friends tried to murder this boy in cold blood.'

...

Sirius winced and looked guilty.

'He has got you there, Padfoot. You did try to kill Snivellus.'

'It was a joke!'

'Was it?'

'Well … I didn't think he'd actually be stupid enough to do what I told him. He hated us- why would he trust what I had to say? Why wouldn't he think it was some prank to get him into trouble? How was I to know the great tit would take me seriously?'

'Well … maybe you shouldn't have told him the truth. You put us all in danger.'

'I would never meaningfully put you in danger, Moony. You have to believe that.' He glanced at his friend - and his expression was so fierce that Remus blushed and had to drop his eyes.

'I believe that.'

'Good - because it's true.'

'But - you did try and kill Snape.'

'As a joke!'

...

'Could you give us some details about this attempted murder?' Alphonso asked.

'Well - it hurts me to tell you this … and I shouldn't gossip…'

...

Remus and Sirius looked at each other again - eyebrows raised. Sirius topped up both their glasses.

...

'But I'm sure most of your listeners read the horrifying truth about Remus Lupin in yesterday's paper?'

...

Remus drained his glass.

...

'Yes,' Alphonso was saying. ' For those of our listeners who didn't catch yesterday's scoop by Rita Skeeter, Remus Lupin is - and has been since childhood - a fully fledged werewolf. And he had this condition even when he attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He only left there three years ago. To any of our listeners - your children may well have been at school with him - in danger from him. Questions will need to be asked as to why this was allowed.'

...

Remus' head was hanging low, as he listened. The index finger of his right hand traced around the rim of his empty wine glass and he was biting his lip. Sirius looked at him, and then took hold of his hand, stopping the circular motion his finger kept repetitively tracing. 'Remember what we said. The lies don't matter.'

'This isn't a lie.' He took a deep breath. 'And now everyone knows.'

Sirius squeezed his hand - and inhaled sharply. If he hadn't asked Remus to run away with him, then this wouldn't be happening to him. Remus would not be being exposed this way. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault.'

'It sorta is.'

'No - this is Peter's fault. I could be either back home with Peter, not knowing what he had done and keeping my furry, little problem a secret - or I could be here … with you.'

There was a tense moment, where they both suddenly seemed to become aware they were holding hands.

'And … would you rather be here - with me?'

'Yes.'

They didn't drop hands - instead, they just squeezed tighter.

...

But the WWN was not finished with its programming yet. Peter was still talking:

'Although I have the greatest respect for Albus Dumbledore - I worked tirelessly underneath him to help bring down You Know Who - I have to say I believe he made a grave error in judgement when he allowed Lupin to join Hogwarts, as a boy. Of course, he put all manner of protections in place - a hidden bolthole for Lupin to transform in, guarded in such a way that no one could happen across him by mistake. But Black was always capable of great charm - and had an affinity for dark creatures. And Lupin belonged to him in a way I never quite fully understood.'

...

Both men dropped hands at the same moment - and avoided each other's eyes.

...

'It was not long before Black knew the truth about Lupin - was delighted by it. He very much enjoyed having a werewolf of his own, to do his bidding. And he knew where Lupin would go to transform. One full moon, he gave instructions to the poor Slytherin boy, telling him where he needed to go - he sent that boy straight to Lupin. If it hadn't been for myself and James pulling him back - at great risk to ourselves - Black and Lupin would have been murderers at sixteen years old.'

'And though I wish no harm on the poor boy, their intended victim,' Alphonso said, ' what trouble could have been saved if Black had been sent to Azkaban at 16 … and the beast executed for its crimes.'

...

Remus closed his eyes - feeling sick.

...

He opened them again when he heard a loud thumping sound - and the noise of the radio being cut off. Sirius, it turned out, had just thrown it at the wall. He was on his feet and shaking with anger… or possibly something else. 'That isn't - that wouldn't have happened.'

'Sirius -'

'I would have told them - that you had no idea. I wouldn't have let them blame you. You weren't involved. Even if they stuck me in Azkaban and threw away the key.'

'They wouldn't have listened.'

'I'd have made them listen.'

'How? People believe what they want to believe. Look at Snape. He had no reason to trust what you told him - but he wanted so badly to find out the truth about me that he followed your instructions anyway. No one would want to hear that the heir of the House of Black had indirectly killed a boy and that the werewolf responsible was innocent.' He lowered his voice. 'You heard what they just called me.'

'They -' Sirius' eyes flashed with anger. 'They can't call you that.'

'They just did.'

But Sirius was still trembling with rage. 'It's not right.'

Remus got to his feet, he went to where Sirius was standing and stood in front of him - taking hold of his arm and looking into his eyes. 'It is how it is. It is how it has always been. This is how the world treats my kind.'

'Your kind -' Sirius snorted. 'It's not "your kind" - you're a person - same as anyone.'

'I know that's how you feel - and that's all that matters. What you think about me ...No one else's opinion matters. Not really. Not anymore. '

He smiled, softly … and after a moment Sirius' expression grew ever so slightly less furious. 'Really?'

'Really.'

The air grew warm between them. They were both suddenly very aware of Remus' hand on Sirius' arm - and only the thin material of Sirius' robe stopping their skin from touching. The tension rose - breathless and heady - until it became almost unbearable … and Remus pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. 'So - get the radio set back up, let's hear what else Peter has to say about us. We might as well finish this.' His voice was brisk, trying to cover what he felt.

They pulled apart - both of them feeling their hearts hammering in their chests - and Sirius retrieved the radio and switched it back on.

...

'So even though he was very young - he was still completely deadly on a full moon?' Alphonso asked. Peter replied in the affirmative. There was a pause - and then Alphonso spoke again. 'It's a full moon tomorrow night. Do you think, wherever he is - little Harry Potter will be in danger from Lupin tomorrow night?'

...

The two men looked at each other again, and Remus saw the guilt plain on Sirius' face - the guilt that Remus was a wanted man, being torn apart on the WWN, because Sirius had asked him to run away with him.

'Nobody else's opinion of me matters but yours,' he said again, gently - but firmly.


High up in his office, Dumbledore finished listening to Peter's broadcast and switched off his own radio. As heavy as his heart had been these past two weeks - now he felt disappointment. In Peter.

Black fulfilling the destiny of his bloodline and turning dark had been hard. Remus throwing everything away for the love of a man who did not deserve it had been heartbreaking. But Peter selling out his friends - even his former ones - trading on their names, and James and Lily - to get famous... that was disappointing .

To think - of their whole group - only James would turn out to be worth anything. And he was dead.

This war had taken too much - had brought out the very worst in too many people. And now it seemed - even with Voldemort gone - people were still sinking to new lows, selling the tragic deaths of those they loved as cheap gossip to be pored over by the grief greedy masses.

That Peter could value James so little that he could stoop to such sordid depths… It was disappointing.

...

Still - he should turn in, get a good night's sleep. He needed to prepare for the morning. Following Peter's interview, and the revelation that Dumbledore had allowed a werewolf into Hogwarts - and then colluded in hushing up the fact that that werewolf had nearly killed somebody ... he could expect to be bombarded with owls of complaint in the morning.