Chapter 18 - The Spy

9th January 1981

It had been a while since Lucius Malfoy had come to the owl post office. Peter had been dithering over whether to tell him what he knew about Dorcas Meadowes for over a week. Every time the bell above the door rang, Peter looked up to see another unfamiliar face. He could never quite decide if he was disappointed or relieved to find that it wasn't Lucius walking through the door.

When Lucius finally did come to visit, Peter didn't see him come in. He was busy cleaning out the owl cages and was holding a bag full of owl droppings away from his nose when he heard that smooth, drawling voice behind him.

"Ah, Peter. I had hoped to find you here."

Peter jumped, almost dropping the bag on the floor. When he turned to find Lucius behind him, he hastily dumped the droppings in the corner behind the desk and quickly wiped his hands.

"You haven't been here for a while," he replied as Lucius joined him at the desk, laying his cane on the scratched surface.

"My apologies. I've been rather, ah, busy of late. Business matters, you see." Lucius was being deliberately cryptic, and Peter realised why when he spotted another customer browsing the selection of large owls.

Peter cleared his throat and called, "Those owls are unavailable at the moment. They're, uh, resting after long journeys. If you've got a parcel to send, you'd be better off coming back tomorrow."

The customer frowned and looked ready to argue, but a sharp look from Lucius seemed to change his mind. He shrugged and made his way out the door, leaving Peter and Lucius alone.

"How was your Christmas, Peter? Pleasant, I hope."

"Oh." That wasn't a question he'd been expected to hear from Lucius Malfoy. "It was fine, I guess."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Lucius' smile was pleasant, casual, but he was looking at Peter expectantly. It had become routine, lately, for Peter to mention one or two things he'd heard from the Order to him. It had started off with him just passing on a couple of names of Order members, but Lucius seemed to expect more and more from him every time.

Peter opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was nervously tapping his fingers on the underside of the desk, unable to decide how much to tell him.

"Come now, Peter," Lucius said. "There's nothing to be nervous about. We're friends, aren't we? I would never ask anything of you that you aren't comfortable with. All I need is a little information. That isn't so much to ask, is it?"

"I guess not." Peter swallowed. "It's – it's about you, actually."

"Oh?" He leant a little closer, his gaze fixed on Peter's.

"There's someone in the Order who's suspicious of you. She thinks you're involved with You Know Who, and she's looking for information to prove it. She wants to set the aurors on your tail. So just, you know, watch your back."

Those glittering grey eyes lit up, his smile broadening. Peter thought it was no wonder Lucius had so many connections with powerful people, no wonder that he always seemed to get whatever he wanted: he had a smile like a shark's, and it was very difficult to say no to that smile.

"I knew I could count on you, Peter. You see, we have each other's backs, don't we? Just think how much trouble I could have been in without your help."

Peter shrugged. "It's nothing."

"It's much more than nothing; you've given me some very valuable information. Now, I don't suppose you could tell me just how this Order contact of yours knows to be suspicious of me?"

"Oh – um, I think she was in your year at Hogwarts. She knows the sort of people you used to hang around with, people who are known to be involved with You Know Who now. People like Rodolphus Lestrange and Corban Yaxley."

"How intriguing. And which of my old classmates is it who's on my trail?"

Peter hesitated. The question stretched out in the silence, broken only by the rustling of feathers and the creaking of cages. A single owl hooted, making Peter jump.

"I don't know if I should tell you that," he said finally.

"It's only a name, Peter. You've given me names before, haven't you? You've done me a great favour by giving me this warning, but how am I to protect myself if I don't know who's watching me? All I want is to keep myself and my family safe. I have a young son, you know, just a year old. It wouldn't do for him to grow up without a father if I ended up in Azkaban, would it?"

Slowly, uncertainly, Peter nodded. "I suppose. You only want to keep an eye out for her, right?"

"Of course."

"Okay." Peter took a deep breath. "Her name is Dorcas Meadowes."

16 February 1981

Sirius was finding it hard to stand still.

It was the first time in months that all the members of the Order had been called together and, under Dumbledore's orders, even James, Lily, Frank and Alice had been urged to apparate to London for the meeting.

They were, of course, one of the last to arrive, but when James and Lily finally stepped through the door, Sirius was wrapping his arms around them before anyone else had a chance to even say hello.

"Welcome back to the real world!" he beamed. "These are what we call 'other people,'" he gestured to a bemused Gideon and Fabian, "and several new inventions have sprung up since you went underground. Did you know there's a spell for cleaning your teeth now!? What will they think of next?"

James laughed, slapping him on the back as they wobbled on the spot, Sirius refusing to let go of his best friend. "Alright Pads," he said, "calm down."

They parted, and James' smile was bright as more people greeted them warmly.

Alice and Lily embraced, and Frank was already pulling pictures out of his wallet to show them how much Neville had grown since their last letter.

Sirius left them to it for a moment, joining Remus by the fireplace. "Honestly, you do nothing for a couple of months and suddenly everyone loves you!"

"It must be nice for them to get out of the house," Remus agreed. "I just wonder why Dumbledore is risking it. Where is he, anyway?"

"Who cares?" Sirius shrugged, enjoying the buzz that was filling the room. "You need to learn to embrace the moment, Moony. Come and see our friends… In fact —" he cut himself off midsentence and swirled back around to Remus. "I have a brilliant idea."

There was something in them all being together that Sirius couldn't quite place. An air of uncertainty, excitement, maybe even fear, but it was intoxicating, and it made him want to find something to elevate the mood – to find the dark places in the room and fill them with something warm and reassuring.

"Let's take a group photo!" He said it loud enough for several people to turn to him. "Yeah, come on! It's the first time we've all been together in ages – why not make it a moment to remember? The Order of the Phoenix – in all our glory."

"I think it's a great idea," James said.

Of course he did, Sirius smirked; he could always count on James.

"Why not," Lily shrugged and, sensing the others' slight hesitation, added, "Come on everyone." She herded the nearby Order members over to the centre of the room, in front of the Gryffindor Scarlett curtains.

Sirius joined them, followed closely by Remus and Peter, then the Prewetts and Marlene. Soon enough they were all stood together, arms around each other's shoulders, smiling at the camera that Sirius had enchanted to float in front of the group.

"Say Butterbeers!"

The camera flashed. Sirius could feel James shoulder against his, and Remus' chest against his back. He could feel the ease of tension as they all shouted at the camera and cheered.

And then Dumbledore cleared his throat from the doorway.

"Welcome, everyone." He smiled gently. "I'm glad to see you're all getting reacquainted."

"Dumbledore," James greeted. He broke away from the group and Sirius found himself resenting his old headmaster for ruining the moment he had managed to create.

"Good to see you could all make it," Dumbledore said. He shook James' hand and looked pointedly over at Frank and Alice. "If you'd all like to take a seat, I'm afraid we have something quite troubling to discuss."

Just like that the atmosphere changed. Couples who had been holding hands let go of each other, comical poses morphed into tensed shoulders, and Gideon jumped down from Fabian's shoulders.

Those who could found seats around the room, while the others stood with folded arms against the walls. Sirius found a spot close to where James and Lily sat, leaning against the fireplace beside Peter and Remus.

"Again, thank you for coming," Dumbledore began, standing at the head of the large dining table. "It is with a great sadness that I must fill this gathering with such a sense of uncertainty, but we must all be aware of the circumstances we face in the continued fight against Voldemort."

Sirius saw Moody nod firmly from close by. Clearly, he knew something the rest of them didn't.

"Recently," Dumbledore continued, "we have been caught off guard by a number of Voldemort's followers appearing to know our next moves. Most of these instances have been small and have thankfully not resulted in any deaths. However, it is time that we must consider the possibility that one of those amongst us may not be on the side of good."

The room was silent.

Sirius felt a lump in his throat. These were his friends – people he had gone to school with. They would never –

A chair scraped across the floor, and Emmeline Vance rose to her feet. Usually an extremely poised and put together figure, she looked pale in the dim light of her dining room. "Do you mean to say that there is a spy?"

"That is indeed what I fear, Emmeline, yes."

Despite the roaring fire biting at Sirius' back, the room seemed to grow cold. Eyes scanned faces they had previously viewed as allies as they mentally made note of who they should and shouldn't trust. Sirius could feel Peter's tension beside him as he fidgeted from foot to foot.

No wonder he was nervous, given his role as secret keeper. Peter was brave for taking on the role, of course, but Sirius could count the number of people in the room that Pete could take in a fight on one hand.

"The purpose of this meeting," Dumbledore continued, breaking the deafening silence, "is not to accuse any of you of anything, nor do I wish to create undue tensions. However, to the person who is sharing details of our missions, I urge you to come forward. I understand that we live in tense times, and if you are being blackmailed, or in some way threatened, we can help you. I do not want to believe that any of us would purposefully put others at risk, but if that is the case, I ask you now – stop. Because we will find out who is doing this. I only hope we can do so before anyone is seriously hurt."

He cleared his throat.

"Thank you for your time. Please know that you can reach out to me now, or at Hogwarts, any time you may need to talk."

Sirius watched him step back from the table. Moody and a few others stood up to engage him in conversation, while the majority of the room remained frozen in place. What were they supposed to do now? he wondered. He placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder, then stepped forward and bent down in the space between James and Lily's chairs.

"Maybe you should go," he said quietly. "If Dumbledore's right it could be dangerous –"

"No one would do that though," James said defiantly. "Maybe… maybe if they're being blackmailed like Dumbledore said, but none of us would feed information to Death Eaters. We're all trying to stop them, that's the whole point!"

"James," Lily said quietly, taking his hand, "we can't know that for sure."

"Then why were we even invited here?" James asked severely, "so that people can feel sorry for us? This is stupid."

He stood up abruptly, confusion and hurt evident on his face. Sirius understood more than most this side of James, and it was not a side of him that many had seen.

"Come on then," he half shouted, "I'd quite like to have a word with this spy."

Those in the room who had dispersed halted their whispered conversions to look over, but no one stepped forward. Their evident pity was enough for Sirius to intervene before James could say anything else.

"Come on mate," he tried to be soothing. "Now's not the time."

Sirius didn't have to say much else, because Dumbledore had appeared, Frank and Alice trailing behind him looking concerned. "May I have a word?" he said gently.

For a second, Sirius thought James was going to argue, but he shrugged, his shoulders deflating as the fight disappeared from him.

He and Lily followed Dumbledore out of the room.

"This is mad," Peter was saying when Sirius re-joined him and Remus by the fire. "No one would spy on James and Lily. I mean, it's understandable that people are worried, and could maybe be tricked into accidentally giving away a bit of information. But no one would betray their friends on purpose. It all seems a bit out of proportion and –"

"Sorry to interrupt Wormy," Sirius said. Peter seemed to be rambling. "But can I borrow this one?" He gripped Remus' arm with an urgency that he didn't realise he felt.

"Oh," Peter said. "I guess so, yeah."

Sirius nodded and pulled Remus into the corner of the room, standing too close together so that they couldn't be overheard by Marlene and Gideon, who were close by and also whispering urgently.

"Who do you think it is?" Sirius asked desperately.

He wanted to say more, to babble and panic like Peter, but he restrained himself, watching Remus' careful expression as he scanned the room.

"It's impossible to say," he frowned. "Do you really think someone is doing this on purpose?"

"Maybe," Sirius said, exasperated. "There's so much we don't know about what everyone's up to. Secret missions and secret groups – just more and more secrets. It'd almost be easy for someone to just have one more."

Remus nodded, considering this. "I suppose you're right."

"Yeah," Sirius snapped. Then, "Sorry, sorry – but what are we going to do?"

"I don't know if –"

"No, there has to be something we can do Moony, come on. I need you to tell me we can do something."

"Sirius," Remus looked sad, and had just taken his hand when they were disturbed by Gideon's voice.

"Marlene, leave it!"

Marlene did not seem to be leaving it, as she was now face-to-face with Sirius and Remus, looking furious.

This in itself didn't bother Sirius – Marlene always seemed to look angry about something. He just hadn't seen the look directed at him before.

"Why were you at the White Wyvern last week?"

It took Sirius a second to realise she was directing this question at Remus, who seemed stunned into silence.

"We saw you there." She gestured back to Gideon, who didn't seem to know what to do about the unfolding situation. "All pally with a load of dodgy looking blokes. Gid says one of them is a werewolf. So," she urged when Remus didn't immediately reply, "why were you there?"

"Marlene," Remus said, his voice full of a quiet anger that Sirius was surprised by. "I can't tell you that, but I assure you it's nothing like what you're thinking."

"You assure me?" she said sceptically, and Sirius didn't exactly blame her. Why had Remus been in Knockturn alley, and with werewolves? He'd promised months ago that he'd stopped seeing them…

"That's what he said," Sirius said bluntly. His own voice quivered with a burning anger. He couldn't bring himself to look at Remus but met Marlene's furious gaze with his own. "I suggest you drop it."

He didn't leave any room for argument, and this time, when Gideon grabbed Marlene's shoulder to pull her away, she allowed it.

No one else seemed to have noticed the encounter, but Sirius felt as though the floor was falling away beneath him.

Remus tried to take his hand again, but he flinched away.

"Sirius, I promise you that –"

"Do you think your promises mean shit to me right now?" Sirius asked. "What was I literally just saying about secrets, Moony?"

Remus shook his head. He didn't seem to want to look at Sirius, which only made him angrier.

"How am I supposed to trust you?"

He desperately wanted an answer, but Remus didn't seem to have one for him.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Sirius said, turning away, "me too."

6th March 1981

Peter didn't quite know how or why he'd ended up on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor again. The last and only time he'd been there before was with Sirius, a long time ago, when he had been dragged along on his fruitless mission to get Regulus to change the path he was on. Really, all Sirius had done was shout at his brother: no wonder Regulus hadn't wanted to come with him. Peter could understand why he'd made the choices he had.

That was how all of this had started, really. That day when Peter and Lucius had stood there in the doorway together, listening to the two brothers shouting at each other. Was it that conversation with Lucius that had caused Peter to start doubting his friends? Or had it started long before that, with every time Peter was spoken over or ignored or chosen last? It was hard to tell, now, how Peter had ended up where he was.

He'd had a letter that morning, delivered by the most well-groomed eagle owl he'd ever seen; its plumage put every owl in the post office to shame. In elegant, curling handwriting, the letter had invited Peter to visit Malfoy Manor. Lucius owed him for the tip he'd given him a few weeks ago, it said.

Peter hadn't been sure whether to accept the invitation at first, thinking about how his friends would react if they heard about it – but why shouldn't he go to visit a person who'd actually been kind to him, who listened to him and valued him more than most of the Order seemed to? No one could stop Peter from talking to whoever he wanted. There was nothing wrong with going to visit a friend.

And besides, it wasn't like he had a whole lot of other invitations.

The door was opened by a house elf clad in what looked like an old pillowcase, who looked uncertainly at Peter.

"Oh, hi," Peter said. "Um, I'm here to see Lucius Malfoy?"

"Is Master Malfoy expecting you?"

"Yeah. He sent me this." Peter took the letter out of his pocket and showed the roll of parchment to the house elf, who nodded, his long ears flapping.

"Come, come. Dobby will take Master Pettigrew to him."

The first thing Peter noticed about the house was how expensive everything was. The carpets were thick and soft, the curtains were heavy, the furniture was ornate. It was all mahogany and gold, polished until it shone. He saw vases and portraits and tea sets that probably cost more than everything Peter owned.

The second thing he noticed was that he was clearly not the only one Lucius had invited. He passed a pair of men he didn't know talking over glasses of fire whiskey in the drawing room, and Antonin Dolohov laughing at the joke of a tall blonde man in the dining room. Narcissa gave him an unreadable smile as he passed her, a baby with tufts of white blonde hair clutched in her arms. Peter found himself wondering whether Sirius knew his cousin had a child now, but then he decided to push all thoughts of Sirius out of his mind.

When Dobby finally led Peter to Lucius, then bowed and quickly scarpered away, Peter realised with a jolt who Lucius had been talking to. Mulciber turned around and gave Peter a cold, contemptuous sneer.

"What's he doing here?" he asked Lucius, wrinkling his nose.

"Come now, Mulciber, I'm sure I must have told you what an essential ally Peter has become. He has done a great many favours for us."

Us. Peter realised with an uneasy twist of his stomach that Lucius was including all of his other guests in that word. Every piece of information Peter had given him had gone towards helping all of his friends, as well.

Lucius clapped him on the shoulder and pressed a drink into his hand, pointing out all of the other people in the room. He knew some of them from school. Other names rang in his ears: Lestrange, Macnair, Karkaroff, Nott. Those were all names he'd heard in Order meetings, all some of You Know Who's worst followers. He was in a house full of Death Eaters.

"I'm glad you could make it today, Peter," Lucius said. "This celebration is all thanks to you, after all. You ought to be the guest of honour."

Peter's stomach twisted tighter, contorting itself into knots.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sounding small and squeaky.

"Thanks to the tip you gave me, we've managed to take care of one of our most irksome enemies. Dorcas Meadowes will no longer be causing us any problems."

Part of him really, really didn't want to know what he meant by that, but he still had to ask. "Taken care of?"

"I'm sure you understand that extreme measures must be taken sometimes, Peter. These Order members won't be reasoned with, you know. Sometimes, there's only one way to stop them. You needn't worry, though; she didn't suffer, I'm told. The killing curse is completely painless."

The killing curse. Peter saw, in his mind, a wand pointed in the darkness, a flash of green light, a body falling to the floor. He remembered Dorcas talking at Order meetings, always strategic and cool-headed. He remembered her dancing with him at James and Lily's wedding, saying that he looked gloomy.

If Lucius saw any of what was going through Peter's head on his face, he didn't comment on it. Another guest walked in the door, and Lucius went over to greet him, his voice loud and cheerful, the room full of laughter and triumph. Celebrating the death of someone who was dead because of Peter.

Mulciber turned to him, his lip curled cruelly. "Grew a backbone since you were at school, did you?"

"Now now, Mulciber. We ought not to speak that way to someone who has proven himself so valuable to us. He deserves our gratitude."

Peter felt himself shrink a little as he turned around to see the source of that high, cold voice. He had heard that voice only once before, ringing through the Ministry of Magic the day of the battle there, telling his Death Eaters to retreat. He hadn't ever expected to meet the source of that voice in person, had hoped never to come face to face with him. And there he was, his red eyes fixed on Peter.

"Peter Pettigrew," he said, "I've heard a great deal about you."