A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I've been working on future chapters (like way future chapters), getting myself distracted. I made some very minor changes to the last two chapters before adding this, in case anyone wanted to check that out. (Also, how does one find a Beta nowadays?)
Enjoy!
Rats have excellent hearing. They're pretty fast too, as Peter Pettigrew realized early in his fifth year. These two traits, combined with the rather small size of the rodent, enabled Peter Pettigrew to learn the secrets of just about everyone in the school. It was because of Peter that the marauders new that there was an entire corridor on the fourth floor that had been cemented shut (except for a small hole in the wall) for the past half century. It had also been Peter that brought them to the attention of Professor Bulstrode's habit of losing card games to Filch and Professor Flitwick.
Peter also knew that Carmen Hallister's favorite pair of lingerie has teddy bears on it, but that piece of intel he had kept to himself.
When Sirius had told Remus' secret to Snape, Peter had spent most of his free time in his rat form, roaming the castle and avoiding the awkwardness of Gryffndor tower and the wrath of his roommates. During that month, Peter realized the serenity of remaining a small animal for hours on end; his animagus brain eventually became numb to the complex thoughts of his human one. Instead of trying to figure out when James was going to get over Sirius' lapse in judgement, he could venture into the Hufflepuff dormitories and sleep on someone's pillow until the occupants of the room took note of him. Alternatively, he could sneak into a Professor's office and get the answers to the next quiz, any office besides Mcgonnagal's was fair game.
After the chaos on the train, Peter had been unable to find his friends and so decided that he would begin roaming the castle early this year. He didn't want to miss the feast, but he had been on the first carriage that had left Hogsmeade and had a good twenty minutes before his friends questioned his whereabouts. With the goal of giving Filch a good run around, Wormtail set off sniffing about for the scent of grime and cat. Unfortunately, the caretaker spent so much time in the castle that his smell was almost identical to that of the walls.
Not two minutes into his search for Filch, the rat could feel Peter slipping to the back of his mind and Wormtail taking over. Sweet aromas drifting from the kitchens reached his nose, and the rat suddenly realized how stupid he was searching for Filch when there was food to be found. One scent drew him in more than any of the others, a thick, musty scent that smelled something like roast pork. Wormtail's nose twitched in anticipation, and by the time he had decided to search for the source of the smell, his tiny legs had already started to take him there. Wormtail only had to scuttle up one flight of stairs before finding the source of the tantalizing aroma.
If he had been Peter, he would have questioned why such a heavenly scented piece of meat was lying on the stone floor two stories above the Hogwarts kitchens. If he had been Peter, he might have questioned why the large pile of charred red was on the floor at all. If he had been Peter, he wouldn't have had to be less than four inches away from the mass to recognize the one splash of white on the body as a large, unseeing eyeball, staring right at the him.
It was Peter-not Wormtail- that let out a high-pitched scream that shook the suits of armor and portraits hanging on the second floor.
Peter ran as fast as his stubby legs would carry him down the stairs to the Entrance Hall, tripping down the last few steps and almost knocking over Professor McGonagall in his haste.
"Mr. Pettigrew! What are you doing, running about the castle right before the sorting. You know I'm not above taking points-What-" Professor Mcgonagall took a step back as Peter doubled over, pale and sweating, and emptied the massive amount of sweets he had eaten on the train on to the floor, barely missing Professor Mcgonagall's robes.
"My dear boy! What is- what has happened?" Professor McGonagall cautiously stepped towards the short round boy shaking in front of her. Peter heaved air in and out, unable to make his lips do much else.
"Someone's been murdered."
"Said something about a fire too-"
"- been murdered or if they've-?"
"- still here?"
" -was a student-"
James had never seen news get around the student body so fast. In the time it took for Professor Mcgonagall to cross the hall to the dais where Professor Dumbledore sat, every student had whispered to the student next to them about the alleged dead body on the second floor.
"We haven't even been here twenty minutes, it couldn't be a student, could it?" Remus asked, eyes wide.
"I don't see any professors missing," Sirius muttered darkly.
"Where's Peter?" James was scanning the room anxiously. He had seen Evans comforting a teary eyed first year towards the back of the hall, and the majority of the rest of Gryffindors in their year were in the seats beside them. Peter hadn't been seen since the beginning of the train ride.
"I'm sure he's around here somewhere." Sirius replied, but he too began scanning the crowd.
"James, there wouldn't have been time for a student-"
"It doesn't take more than a second," he replied shortly. James stood on the bench to see over the bustling students.
"Dammit, Pete, this is not the time-"
Four loud cracks followed flashes of blue light and the students silenced.
"Thank you." Professor Dumbledore had stood from his seat and his sharpened blue eyes were surveying the students before him. James could see that the headmaster's wand remained in his hand. We might still be in danger, then.
"We have suffered a great tragedy, that is for certain. Beyond that, we have only our own questions and fears. I ask that you each find the strength within yourselves and from each other to remain calm as your professors and I tend to this very serious matter. For now the Great Hall shall be your haven- be comforted that you are well guarded in this room both by protective charms and by well trained ministry personnel." He nodded at the dozen or so men and women that wore ministry patches on their dark robes who were standing by every door leading from the Great Hall. "If the head boy and girl will come to me please." A shaking Stefan and stony faced Galina pushed through the crowd of students to the dais where the teachers usually sat, and listened as Professor Dumbledore gave them whispered instructions.
"They're going to have us on lock down. As if it's not likely someone in this room is the murderer." James put his hand on Sirius' shoulder to keep him from speaking further. A second year behind them had gasped at his whispered words.
Turning away from the Heads, Dumbledore cleared his throat, as if to get attention from the staring and unmoving students before him, and solemnly began to speak.
"You have all had a long journey, dinner will commence shortly." And with that, Professor Dumbledore exited the Great Hall, trailed by Professors Mcgonagall, Slughorn, Flitwick, and Paddles.
"Prefects will be coming around to do a roll call." Galina's voice could barely be heard over the murmur that had started as soon as the doors had closed.
She continued shouting instructions, and James registered that the remaining professors had left the dais and had moved to join the students, comforting those who had started to cry. But James was too distracted to pay attention to what Galina was saying.
"We need a diversion." He whispered to Sirius.
Sirius raised his eyebrows, "You want to go check on what's going on upstairs? I don't think even one of our feats can distract the aurors at every exit."
"No, I need to check the map. There's still no sign of Peter."
"Do you think that the dead body will show on the map? I mean, it shows ghosts, so.."
"You don't need the map." James snapped his head around to find a pale Peter standing behind them, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. "I can tell you who it was." Peter swayed slightly on the spot, and James stood to grab his shoulders and steady him.
"You saw it then?" asked Sirius. But Despite Peter's mouth opening and closing, no sound came out.
"Pete, look at me." James said softly, "Are you- are you hurt, or-" Peter shook his head.
"It was awful. Just so horrible."
"Take my seat. I'm going to see if Madame Pomfrey is around."
"She gave me a potion already. Mcgonagall sent me to her for-for shock or something." His eyes were now darting nervously from person to person in the hall, hands fidgeting with his robes.
James stared at his friend, unsure of what to say. James had seen many dead bodies before, even a few of people he cared for. But he had never seen one outside of a casket, without being surrounded by flowers and friends.
"Pete-"
Food suddenly appeared on the tables before them. It was a mark of the seriousness of the situation that none of the boys neither realized nor cared.
"Lupin! What are you doing?" Galina had found the group. Remus jumped at the sound of his name, and begrudgingly swung his legs over the bench.
"I have some chocolate left, Pete." Remus handed over a handful of wrapped Honeydukes finest. "I'll find you all as soon as I can." He turned to leave.
"Wait, Moony!" James reached over the table to grab Remus' arm. "Can you just- I mean, can you check, can you make sure that-" he ran his hand through his hair and glanced to his right, "Evans just seemed a bit shaken on the train."
"I'll talk to her, Prongs." Remus nodded at him and made his way towards where the red head was standing a few yards away, taking the names of a group of fourth years.
"Who was it, Wormtail?" Sirius pushed a glass of pumpkin juice towards him.
"I wouldn't have been able to recognize him, but Mcgonagall knew right away. Called him Marcus Higgins. I think he was supposed to be-"
"Our next defense professor. Of course." Sirius said darkly.
"What do you mean, 'of course'? Did Higgins have a death threat against him or something?" asked James.
"Not exactly, but it makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, we've always heard that the position's cursed. Six years we've been here and four professors we've had already. One died in his sleep at the age of sixty, another decided he'd rather study kelp in Ireland, and Professor Shelp had to retire because his Spattergroit was so bad. Spattergroit is severely contagious, but no one in the castle had it and he hadn't left the school all year. "
James shook his head. "There's a big difference between changing careers or getting sick and getting flat out murdered. This is bigger than all of that, Pads."
"Cooked." Said a quiet voice. The two dark haired boys turned to their friend.
"Err, what was that, Wormtail?"
"He wasn't j-ju-just m-murdered, he was... cooked. "
Sirius and James exchanged a look.
"Uh, Pete," Sirius started, trying to sound gentle, "when you say cooked what exactly do you mean?"
Peter nervously began fiddling with his robes again, eyes shifting from face to face.
"I-I c-could smell it. It was b-b-burned." At that moment his eyes locked on the steaming ham that laid untouch in front of them, face green and eyes as wide as the silver plates on the table.
James clenched his jaw, watching his friend sit unmoving, except for his trembling hands. This was Hogwarts they were talking about. Last year there had been two Aurors that patrolled the grounds now and then. Tonight, James had seen nearly twenty, half inside and half outside the hall. Twenty ministry trained dark wizard catchers standing watch, and a teacher had been brutally murdered without even one suspecting a disturbance. Although the Great Hall was just as bright and colorful as it always was during the Welcome Feast, James felt as if he was merely in a painted cell, just as dark as the world he had thought he'd left.
A half hour later, Dumbledore returned, announcing that the heads of houses would accompany students to their common rooms after a brief sorting ceremony. During the process, James kept glancing at Peter, hoping his friend would show some sign of being aware of the goings on around him. But Peter only continued to stare at the ham, looking pale and sickly.
After the sorting, Dumbledore stood in front of them all again.
"Marcus Higgins... was a kinda and noble man. After a long career in the Department of Spell Development, he wished to have the chance to impart knowledge and inspiration in the young minds at his own school. He has died tonight, before he was able to help each of you as he had hoped to do. But his life was dedicated to helping students in ways he could never witness. Let his death remind us all of the importance of spending our short time here unafraid of helping the person standing next to us, as well as those we can not see." Silence echoed through the hall as Dumbledore nodded at the heads of houses, who marched to the back of the hall and began to usher students out.
Lily had nothing to do but stare at the fire. It seemed no one had wanted to linger in the common room after supper, preferring the comfort of his or her own bed. But Lily couldn't sleep, and she didn't fancy listening to her roommates theorize and lament about today's event. In the hall, Lily had been focused on what she knew she had to do as an older student and prefect. But now...
Now she had finally sat, after an hour of pacing, wishing she could find an excuse to talk to Professor Mcgonagall or Dumbledore or anyone that might be able to give her answers, or at the very least give her orders.
A sharp creak made her start, and Lily jumped up from the couch, pulling out her wand.
"S'all right, it's just me."
Lily let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, but gave James a sharp look.
"What are you doing down here?" She meant to whisper it, but it came out closer to a shout.
"I, er, expected the common room to be empty, for one. What are you doing down here?"
Lily let out a frustrated sigh. "Absolutely nothing. Nothing to do, is there? No homework, or..." She drifted off, but James nodded, understanding that it wasn't homework she was wishing for.
They stood in silence for a while, each consumed by their own thoughts.
Eventually, James cleared his throat.
"You should try and get to bed. Staying up isn't going to make tomorrow any easier." He gave her a small smile, but she narrowed her eyes at him.
"You never said why you came down here. "
"Just... wanted to be alone, ya know?" James tried do smile again, but Lily had only narrowed her eyes further.
"And your friends just let you wander off without them?"
He rolled his eyes. "I'm only in the common room, Evans."
"Don't bullshit me, Potter." She stood up so that her eyes were almost level with his and crossed her arms. "You were going to leave weren't you?" James opened his mouth to reply, but his usually adept lying skills failed him under Lily's fiery gaze and he could only emit a gurgling "err".
Lily huffed and her hands went to her waist, a pose James had seen her assume numerous times before.
"I can't believe that tonight of all nights you can't resist gallivanting about-"
"I am not gallivanting! And it's none of your-"
"It bloody well is my business I AM A PREFECT and you-"
"Prefect," James scoffed, "and that gives you the right to just shout at me in the middle of the night does it?"
"I am not shouting! And it bloody well does, and that is not the point!"
"And what is the point of you waking up the entire tower, Evans?"
"Because your giant head is going to get you killed, Potter. Are you hoping that roaming around at night you'll bump into the culprit and be able to save the day? Don't be so god damn stupid, Potter."
James' red face contorted and he took a step forward so that he and Lily were hardly a foot apart, and James could see every goddamn freckle on her face. For a moment they only stood there, Lily waiting for James' angry retort; James too furious to do anything but glare.
"Fuck this, Evans. Do you know who found the body tonight? Or has that piece of information not reached your ears all the way up on your pedestal?"
Lily's eyes got wide. "But… you were in the Great Hall before Mcgonagall got in, I saw you."
James shook his head. "Not me, Peter."
"Is he alright?" She asked quickly.
"He's shaken, but he's going to be fine. And before you ask, he doesn't know anything the rest of us don't."
"I wasn't going to." Lily said, although admittedly she had hoped James could tell her something useful.
There was another moments silence before Lily added, "But I still don't understand. What are you doing now that has to do with Peter?"
"Madame Pomfrey gave him something for the shock, but he still can't get to sleep. I was going to nick a sleeping potion."
"Oh. You should have just said."
"Evans, come on-"
"No, I mean… just wait here a moment."
Lily dashed up the stairs to the girls dormitory, trying to be as silent as possible. That's twice I've shouted at him today, she thought as she made her way up to the sixth year girls' room. Maybe I've just gotten into the habit. When she opened the door she was relieved to see that all of the curtains were drawn around each bed, meaning the occupants were either sleeping or pretending to sleep. She crossed to her own bed, the only one untouched, and opened up her bag that she had thrown precariously onto her trunk a few hours before, rummaging around until she felt a small round vial. She wasn't going to sleep tonight anyway.
When she reached the common room, she thought for a moment that James had left and felt her stomach sink in disappointment. But a moment of her eyes adjusting to the dark allowed her to see a shadowy figure standing by the window. She made her way over to him unnoticed.
"The curtain is shut, what are you looking at?" She asked, amused.
James jumped at her voice, and looked embarrassed as he answered, "You can see the moon from the slight part here." He gestured to where the ends of the two red curtains did not quite meet. "It was full yesterday."
Lily inched closer to him to look outside. "It's… beautiful." She whispered, a little unsure.
"A little foreboding, I was thinking" James said, turning to look at her.
Lily looked outside again. The night was dark and cloudless, but from the small portion of the sky they could see, there were no stars. No owls flew over the grounds to give the life to the night, and no wind swept through the trees. Everything was still.
"Did you know that a waning moon is supposed to give you clarity? A deeper look into your own subconscious." James said, looking out the window again.
"I heard waning moons are perfect for powerful banishing spells. If you ever want to make a dragon disappear, just wait till the waning crescent." James chuckled and turned his back to the window, leaning against the wall.
"Trying to think of ways to get rid of me, Evans?" He asked, eyebrows raised.
"Please. I wouldn't need the help of the moon for that." She smiled and held out her hand. "Sleeping potion, for Peter."
"You had this in your room?"
Lily shuffled her feet uncomfortably. "I get bored over the summer holidays sometimes" she lied.
"And that's why you had the healing salve for Remus, is it?" James asked, clearly not convinced by her muttering.
"Exactly."
"Alright, then."