Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of J.K Rowling and Warner Bros. The song is by Paul Simon. No copyright infringment is intended and I make no money from this.
Peter: Slip-Sliding away
Slip-sliding away.
Slip-sliding away
The rat ran, as fast and as far as he could. Scurrying through the long grass trying to get away from the howls, barks and screams coming from behind him.
He veered desperately when he reached the lake, how long before he was away from the influence of the castle and was able to disapparate? He needed to get away, and fast, while Black was still busy with the werewolf.
He still wasn't sure what exactly had happened. At the beginning of the year he'd been in a comfortable position, good home, well-fed, maybe neglected somewhat but otherwise very well set up in life for a rat. Now, after the most stressful year of his entire life, he was on the run with nowhere to hide.
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip-sliding away.
He ran through the forest, every sense on the alert for owls, foxes and other night predators. Not that there'd be any foxes in the forbidden forest, they wouldn't last a minute, but there were always the damn owls.
How many times had he run away from owls during their time at school? Sirius had laughed at it, because when you're a large black dog you don't have to worry about running away from anything. James had occasionally tried to protect him, but there was a limit to how much he could do if Peter was on his own. Many of the owls were school owls too, or children's pets, and James refused to hurt them.
It was funny really, after all the good times they'd had together the only thing he really felt for James was a sort of blinding jealousy.
I know a man
He came from my home town.
It was about her of course. His Tiger-Lilly. But she'd never noticed Peter, and Peter had never dared to approach her because when the alpha-male grabs a girl there's nothing for the beta-male to do expect sit and watch. He'd watched James' stupid ego-ridden courtship of her, consoled him when he'd failed, and kept a photo of Lilly hidden under his pillow. Neither James nor Lilly knew he'd taken it.
James had been so obvious about it. James and Lilly. And what Potter wanted, he tended to get.
He wore his passion for his woman
Like a thorny crown.
James had acted like the only man who'd ever been in love. Sirius had watched on with bored amusement, Remus had given good advice (which had never been taken) but when his preferred friends were busy, James had turned to Peter. The rat remembered long evenings, sitting listening to his friend (his friend?) wax lyrical about the love he wanted and could never have. The love Peter wanted but would never dare ask for.
He said 'My lady
I live in fear.
My love for you is so overpowering I'm afraid that I may,
Disappear.'
James had spent all of sixth year asking her. And her continuing irate refusals seemed to encourage him more and more. Sometimes Peter thought that it wasn't Lilly that James loved at all; it was the ideal of her, the image of a beautiful, unobtainable red-head. In James's head she had transformed, from a good-looking, intelligent, slightly moody young girl into a vision of Aphrodite.
He'd talked to Remus about it once (thinking back, Peter realized he'd never had a conversation alone with Sirius, ever. Certainly nothing more than a casual chat about homework, and even then he'd been scared stiff of the boy).
'What do you think about James and Lilly.' He'd asked nervously.
Remus looked up from whatever essay he was attempting to finish on time. 'At the moment, hopeless.'
Something inside Peter had leapt up at that, 'You think she doesn't love him?'
'Oh, she loves him alright, but she won't let herself go out with him while he persists in mooning over her like a lovesick puppy.' Remus frowned at his work, 'I'm sure that's not how you spell mandragora.'
Slip-sliding away
Slip-sliding away
He ducked behind a tree root as a large shadow swooped overhead. Squinting up with the week rat eyes he could see a crowd of Dementors hovering over the lake. Good, perhaps they'd take both Lupin and Black, maybe even the children too, leaving no witnesses.
Even as he thought that his conscience gave a jolt. Because it had never meant to be like this. He'd never meant for James to die, for his beautiful Tiger-Lilly to die, for Harry, who was half Lilly, to be surrounded by a horde of Dementors.
He'd wanted to be a spy, to be useful like Snape and Remus, to be popular like Sirius and James. But it had all fallen apart somewhere.
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip-sliding away.
He was almost near the edge of the forest now. In situations like this it was easiest to let the rat's small brain take command. Ducking and dodging quickly through tiny spaces was what rats were good at. A person panicking away in the background was no help at all.
He'd always admired James, even through the jealousy. He remembered the wedding, Sirius getting drunk, Remus smiling more than he'd ever seen before, and his beautiful Tiger-Lilly looking so radiantly happy.
I know a woman
Became a wife
After that he'd been very careful to keep his feelings and actions towards her purely platonic. They'd all come over to visit sometimes, for Christmas, or birthdays, and he'd help Lilly in the kitchen. They were some of the happiest memories he had of his adult years, drying dishes while talking with her about mundane ordinary things. Watching the light play off her hair every time she turned around, and listening to Sirius and James' laughter floating in from the other room.
It worried him sometimes, that his happiest memories were of doing housework in the company of another mans wife.
These are the very words she told me
To describe her life
Everyone found it hard, in the years when they worked for The Order. It was not a time that encouraged marital bliss. Sometimes they'd come round to visit and find James sitting on the sofa, head in hands.
'Hey, Prongs, what's up?' Sirius would ask gently and James would shake his head and gesture upwards to where Peter knew Lilly would be sitting in the bedroom, trying not to cry. Sirius would say 'Women, eh?' and break open a bottle of firewhiskey (ignoring Remus's despairing look) while Peter would sneak upstairs and find her, face screwed up with the effort of hiding tears, staring at her wedding photo.
She said a good day
Ain't got no rain
'Are you alright?' He'd ask, and sit down next to her. Then the tears would flow and sometimes she'd lay her head against his shoulder. He never stroked her hair (though he often thought about it) but instead just gazed at her, and tried to think of comforting things to say. He never did say anything, but the crying seemed to make her feel better.
'Why does he have to do it, it's not bravery.' She said, laying the photo down gently on the pillow. 'You're his friend; can't you make him change his mind?'
He shrugged, partly because he was not quite sure what stupid thing James had elected to do and partly because he knew that James would never take his advice, not in a million years.
'It's dangerous, why can't he see that? It's not even necessary.' He fetched a tissue for her and she sniffled into it for a bit. 'Thanks Pete.'
He mumbled something in reply.
'You're not like him you know. You're sensible.' She was quiet for a moment. 'Does he want to die?'
Peter thought carefully, 'I think it's more that he thinks he can't.'
She twisted the tissue between her fingers, 'It's just some of these missions and things he agrees to go on, they're almost suicide. And I wondered if…if it was something to do with me. You know. If he was, well, unhappy. He might just want to get away.'
He stared at her helplessly. He didn't know what to say. 'It's nothing to do with you. Really. James just takes his work very…seriously.'
She said a bad day's when I lie in bed
And think of all the things that could have been
'You know I sometimes wonder,' She looked down at the floor clearly embarrassed, 'What it would have been like if I hadn't married him.'
He felt his heart jump, but kept his voice steady, 'He would have been very unhappy.'
She smiled. 'Yes. Back then he would've.'
'He still loves you.' Why did woman have to talk about their relationships all the time? This was torture.
'And I love him, very much so. It's just, it was a rather hurried decision.'
They'd been worried; the Dark Lord had been on the rise. Lots of people had married quickly, wanting to enjoy what time they might have left.
Hating himself for saying it he asked 'Was there someone else you think you could have…been happy with?'
She didn't look at him. Was that a good sign or not? 'There are lots of different choices I could have made.'
Slip-sliding away
He'd joined the Death Eater's for her. For them, as a spy for the Order. But somehow, it hadn't turned out. Maybe he should have told Dumbledore. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to do it alone.
Slip-sliding away
She'd trusted him. She'd trusted him with her life, with Harry's life. But he'd been too far in by then. The Dark Lord had stared into his eyes and he'd been trapped, trapped like a rat in a world that was suddenly far too big for him.
Occlumency, that was what it was. The Dark Lord had taken one look at him and Lilly had floated helplessly, hopelessly to the front of his mind. The more he'd tried to hide it, the worse it had become, and then the pain had started.
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip-sliding away.
He couldn't help it. He hadn't been able to hide it. And he knew Sirius and Remus would never understand because neither of them had ever met the Dark Lord, neither of them had faced him and known what power he had.
And now, the Dark Lord was all he had left. At school he'd stuck with Black and Potter for protection, protection against them mostly, because when he was laughing with them they weren't laughing at him. Now all he had was the Dark Lord, everyone else was out to kill him, only Voldemort could keep him safe.
He turned back into a human at the boundary of Hogwarts and tried to work out where it would be best to apparate too. The latest rumour he'd heard was that the Dark Lord was in Albania. He took a deep breath, trying to concentrate. The last thing he wanted to do was end up splinched across the English Channel.
I know a father
Who had a son
Any tension between Lilly and James had disappeared with Harry's arrival. The initial euphoria of impending fatherhood had lasted for some time, but even as it had faded James had changed. He became more cautious, less likely to rush headfirst into Sirius's madcap schemes. He took more care of Lilly too, and while she pretended to complain about being treated like a glass ornament, Peter could tell that she secretly loved the attention.
Harry's birth had not changed that, although James had changed from an excited father-to-be into an exhausted childminder. Sirius had helped occasionally, and even Peter had been roped in as a babysitter. It had been an interesting experience, alone in the house with a small child. Harry had spent most of the evening asleep, but had woken up once to be fed. Peter had cradled the small child in his arms, terrified of somehow breaking it, holding the bottle at an awkward angle and looking with slight amazement at Lilly's deep emerald eyes looking so out of place in the tiny face.
He'd been a Death Eater by then, and had spent all night terrified that the Mark would burn, that he'd have to leave the baby all alone in the house, and try to think of an excuse to give James the next morning.
He longed to tell him all the reasons
For the things he'd done.
It suddenly occurred to Peter that he'd spent more time with Harry than James, Sirius and Remus put together. More time than Lilly too, a thought which saddened him. Thinking of Lilly always made him miserable, although the pain had dulled over the years. Spending twelve years of his life in a house full of redheads hadn't helped either, he could only feel glad he'd left before the girl had turned into a woman.
James had never been able to talk with Harry. Never been able to teach him Quidditch, or tell him the tales of what he'd got up to during his school days. And it didn't help Peter to know that it was all his fault.
Or was it? It hadn't been his idea after all, it had been Sirius's. He'd thought about refusing, but Lilly's eyes had fixed on him and she'd whispered 'I'd rather you than Sirius.' He'd felt helpless, because it made sense; he was more sensible, more steadfast than Sirius.
But he was also a Death Eater, and the Dark Lord was a dangerous man to play games with. Looking at Lilly though, had strengthened his resolve. He would be strong, he would survive whatever the Dark Lord threw at him and he would keep Lilly's secret safe.
How long had he lasted? Ten minutes, twenty at most?
He came a long way, just to explain
In his last year at Hogwarts, that terrifying, horrifying year, he'd thought he'd seen James once. It had been the night after Sirius had appeared in the Gryffindor Tower with a knife, and Peter had been sitting under Ron's bed, shivering with cold, fear and lack of sleep, when he'd seen something, hovering above Harry's bed.
It all probability he'd imagined it. What with Remus, Sirius and that wretched cat, he'd been surviving on minimal sleep and not much food either. Ron had been forgetting to feed him and he didn't dare sneak down to the kitchens any more for fear of the cat. The shape had been white and as he'd blinked his week little rat eyes it had seemed to solidify into something that vaguely resembled a human figure.
He'd been thinking a lot about the four of them recently, especially with Remus and Sirius wandering around.
He kissed his boy as he lay sleeping
Then he turned around and headed home again
All the same, Peter wasn't sure how ghosts worked, but if they could be obtained temporarily he wouldn't put it past James to come and take a look at the boy. Just to see what he'd grown into.
At any rate, it had scared him half to death. He'd cowered under the bed and hid his head behind the bedpost. James knew who'd betrayed him, and vengeful ghosts could be dangerous.
He hadn't meant to betray them.
Slip-sliding away
Given a choice he would never have chosen too
Slip-sliding away
But the Dark Lord didn't give choices. Once you had joined his service it was for ever. Until death. And now, if Sirius survived and his story got out, the Dark Lord was the only person who wouldn't kill him on the spot. Was it weakness to need protection? The Potter's had needed protection, and they had trusted him.
He'd failed them. He'd failed James. He'd failed Lilly.
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip-sliding away.
He took a deep breath and apparated, the familiar feeling of nausea spreading over him until finally he was standing alone, near what looked like an old dilapidated village. He did a quick check to ensure he'd got here safely, then allowed himself to relax a little. Was this Albania? At any rate, it was far away enough from Black and Lupin.
He trudged towards the village, his feeling of relief disappearing slightly as he remembered why he was here. What would his Lord look like? He'd been nothing but vapour when he'd left Quirrel (in the years he'd spent as a pet of the Chosen One's best friend he'd gleaned a large amount of very useful information) what would he look like now? Would he still be powerful?
His powers had left him at the Potter's house, how much had he retained? Was it even worth trying to find him? Unconsciously, Peter rubbed the Death Eater's mark on his forearm. He didn't really have any choice, he never had. He served the Dark Lord now.
The wizarding world had cheered when Voldemort was destroyed. There had been so many owls that the sky had resembled a small snowstorm, to say nothing of the fireworks and parties. The only people who hadn't celebrated that day (apart from the Death Eaters) were those who knew what a tremendous failure the whole thing had been. The Dark Lord had been defeated, but not because of any grand scheme of Albus Dumbledore.
It was Lilly. That thought still made him feel proud. Lilly had defeated the Dark Lord through her child.
But it very nearly hadn't worked. Even Peter couldn't say for certain what had been going on that night.
Oh, God only knows
Probably only Dumbledore had truly known everything that had happened that night.
God makes his plans
Dumbledore had been playing a dangerous game, and that night it had very nearly fallen to pieces. Dumbledore knew the prophecy, he knew that Snape knew it and he knew that Voldemort knew it. He knew Sirius was the Potter's secret keeper, he knew the Potter's child was a very likely candidate for the Chosen One.
He had all the information, and he'd marshaled his pieces on the great gaming board. But then they'd messed it up. James, Sirius and Lilly and Peter between them had thrown a spanner into the works of whatever carefully ordered plan Dumbledore had. It hadn't even had very much to do with Peter being a Death Eater, even without joining Voldemort, he knew in his heart of hearts that he would not have lasted long as the Potter's secret keeper.
They should have told Dumbledore, but then, maybe he should have told them. They hadn't known about the prophecy at all, James and Lilly had no idea that they were in danger until Dumbledore had told them. He'd suggested the Fidelus Charm, and maybe if they'd known just why it was so important they would have allowed Dumbledore to be the secret-keeper rather than insisting on Sirius.
But no. The whole story of that last year was one of confused misinformation and distrust.
The information is unavailable to the mortal man
Distrust. Distrust and fear. He'd kept his little secrets squirreled away from The Order while, in the dark nights of terror, the Dark Lord had withdrawn them from him, one by one.
It had been a nightmare existence. He hadn't known who to trust. And he hadn't known about the prophecy then, the Dark Lord had waited before attacking the Potters and for a glorious month he had dared to hope that all would be well.
We go to our jobs
Collect our pay
James had been sticking to his job at the ministry, and staying away from the more dangerous work of the Order. He had a son to look after now. Peter had met him every day of that last month, and every day he'd smiled and asked how Harry was doing. James would run an exhausted hand through his hair and say something like 'Fine, fine, he was only up three times last night.'
Thankfully he hadn't had to face Remus or Sirius, James had been bad enough. The month had dragged on, and the Potters had still lived. He hadn't known about the Prophecy then.
It was only in that last terrifying night, that he'd realised. He'd been at a party at Narcissa's house and overheard Bellatrix Lestrange whispering some to young Barty Crouch. Something about a prophecy and the Potters. It had hit him with an almost physical shock, leaving him gasping for breath when he realised what he'd done. He'd made his excuses and left, apparating straight to the Potters house.
But by then it had been too late, too late.
We think we're gliding down the highway
When in fact we're slip-sliding away
He'd taken Voldemort's wand, turned into a rat, and vanished. What else could he do?
Slip-sliding away
Slip-sliding away
You know the nearer your destination
The more you're slip-sliding away.
------
Notes: A couple of interesting ideas of my own in this one, just stuff I wanted to get written down before Deathly Hallows came out and smashed it all. If you didn't like it, come back tomorrow for Sirius's chapter, it is better and more canon.
And please review... :)