A/N: Totally unrelated to the very serious chapter coming up, but something I've noticed and find very amusing is that the chapters that receive the most hits tend to be the ones with the dirtiest, raunchiest action. Y'all are a bunch of perverts.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter 38: Of the Burdens of Silent Protectors

Peter Pettigrew sat in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron with his eyes darting rapidly around various points in the room without direction. He tried desperately to hold the pint of butterbeer in his hands without spilling, but he hadn't been able to stop trembling for what seemed like days. Small spurts of the golden liquid dribbled from the mouth of the glass twitchily. His ears roared deafeningly, jumping from conversation to conversation within the pub, listening hard but not sure for exactly what. Each voice sounded higher than it should. Each laugh sounded like a cackle. Cold shivers ran up his spine in defiance of the heat.

The air was insufferably heavy with humidity – it seemed like it hadn't rained in months. There was a forecast for rain finally the next day, and Peter thought he might cry with relief at the very thought. He wore a jumper over his shirt to ensure that no stains seeped through, but the heat that built between the layers was excruciating. The jumper felt like a lead weight, and his shirt clung stickily to his back, with the salty sweat on his skin seeping into the deep gashes that were engraved into his back with mind-numbing stinging. He prayed desperately that the wounds wouldn't reopen while he was out, wiping the heavy sweat from his brow shakily.

Finally, he saw a tall young man with light brown hair step in from the late August heat. The long scar along his jaw was obvious even at the distance as he looked around the pub. His eyes finally fell upon Peter fondly, and a small smile spread across his lips as he moved towards his table. Peter smiled weakly with his chest painfully tight as he approached with a small but shaky wave. The small movement tugged at the cuts in his back – his hand shot back down to his lap. The sweat seemed to drip faster, and he cursed at himself silently, though he couldn't be sure for what anymore. Once again, he was shamefully weak, gazing up after the bright light of a star he couldn't reach.

As Remus approached the back table of the Leaky Cauldron that Peter sat at, the warmth he felt at seeing his friend quickly melted into deep concern. Peter looked pale – even more so than usual – with deep rings beneath his eyes. He looked somewhat thinner even. His hair was matted with sweat, which was dripping off of him profusely. He sat rigidly with an unnaturally straight back and trembling hands. Was it the heat? He had no idea how Peter could possibly be wearing a jumper – Remus was wearing the thinnest work-appropriate clothes he owned, and he still felt constantly sticky with sweat and humidity. Something in his stomach turned slightly at the sight of his fellow Marauder.

"Wormy," he greeted warmly, but with concern, as he sat down, "You okay, mate?"

"Yeah!" Peter squeaked, his voice very shrill and unnaturally high. He seemed to catch how bizarre he sounded and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, a little more normally this time. "You know, just a little put off from the heat!"

Peter's eyes were wide, darting around nervously. He looked even more rat-like than usual. It had been a long time since he'd seen him this jumpy, and he'd recently taken on a more confident stance, which he'd attributed to the man's relationship with Eris. He still didn't feel comfortable with the treasure hunter, but he was quite glad for her seemingly positive influence on his friend.

However, the changes now all seemed to have been reversed. Peter seemed to shrink into his seat, peering around them with slight panic. Remus' concern deepened.

"Peter," he said again, this time more seriously. Peter's gaze jerked back to him. "Did something happen?" he asked in a low voice. His muscles all seemed to tighten. Something clearly wasn't right.

Peter held his gaze with trembling eyes and mouth. Remus could nearly hear the deafening barrage of thoughts pouring from Peter's mind as he mustered his courage to answer.

"How is Rowan?" he asked. His voice was still high, tempo slow, afraid. Remus frowned but tried not to let on how perturbed he was. He was too worried about Peter's strange behavior to even consider how painful it was to think of the dark-haired girl.

"She's okay I think," he said carefully. "I haven't seen her since our weekly. Why do you ask?"

Peter jerked strangely – a weird version of a shrug. "Just wondering!" he responded shrilly. He cursed at himself again – why couldn't he keep his composure just this once? "She just seemed s-so… so upset the other night. I just th-thought maybe you could cheer her up!" He let out a soft but high and nervous laugh that seemed very awkward and misplaced. Remus watched his friend with deep concern, but before he could say anything, Peter continued.

"You two should get back together!" he blurted.

Remus wanted to bury his face in his hands with frustration. Why was everyone in his life pushing him to talk about this all of the sudden? He was beginning to think that they'd all discussed it prior and were orchestrating their efforts in unison as a team.

"What is it with that lately?" he muttered to himself tiredly under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His neck felt slightly cooler after, but the tightness in his chest remained.

"Why do you say that?" he asked Peter.

Peter's mouth trembled, and his eyes deepened with fear. The strange tightness in his Remus' chest extended to his stomach. Something was very wrong.

"I j-just-," Peter stammered. His eyes couldn't seem to focus on anything in particular, darting around wildly again. His hands were absentmindedly wiping themselves against his pants at his thighs rhythmically like a strange ritual. The paleness of his face seemed to only grow, but he finally looked up at Remus, eyes blazing. Remus couldn't believe the fire there. He looked like a different man.

But before he could speak, a sultry voice interrupted them.

"Merlin, what a surprise to see you two here!"

Remus whipped around to see a pale heart-shaped face set against dark waves. A seductive set of full lips was spread into a smug smile directed at the two of them – it was Eris. The dark voice deep within him snarled for some reason that he couldn't explain. But the person next to her was what surprised Remus most – a young man in a fine, elegant suit with straw-colored hair. His wolf roared deafeningly at the sight of Barty Crouch Jr. He strained to keep the gut reaction from his face.

The young man smiled warmly at the two of them, showing no sign of noticing Remus' inner thrashing.

"Lupin, great to see you! Pettigrew," he greeted kindly, clapping Remus on the shoulder jovially and nodding to Peter. His eyes held only good intent, but Remus couldn't help but bristle inwardly. He forced a smile to his face.

"Good to see you, Barty. How have you been?" he asked politely. "Great job at the Ministry – you guys have been doing some fantastic work recently." He smirked to himself, knowing fully well that their "fantastic work" was in fact all thanks to the Order of the Phoenix.

Barty beamed. "Thanks, mate. It's been pretty busy with all the arrests, but we're really optimistic for some convictions. How've you been?"

"Oh, you know – same as usual," Remus answered vaguely. He didn't want to continue this conversation for any longer than necessary. He glanced towards Eris, who was watching their conversation earnestly. "How do you two know each other?" he asked.

Barty glanced over at her and smiled. "Oh, Ms. Eripice came across some rare goblin-made pieces my father has his eye on. We were just meeting to discuss them over lunch," he said.

Eris smiled broadly. "Yes, it's quite the coincidence that we ran into you two," she said. She then turned to Peter. "Sweetheart, I wish you'd told me you had lunch plans with Remus. We could have walked over together from work," Eris cooed. She trailed her hand through Peter's sweat-drenched hair with long nails scraping against his scalp slowly. He shuddered slightly as he imagined the sweat pooling beneath her nails. He thought of a black spider wrapping its long legs around a fly.

Her expression was warm, but Remus still felt incredibly uneasy. He turned back to see Peter. The round man was not shaking as much as before, but he was stone still, as if he'd been petrified. His eyes were wide; mouth slack in an expression of purely distilled fear. He barely breathed. Remus began to speak before he could stop himself.

"Actually, we were just finishing up," he said quickly, forcing himself not to glance back at Peter. He could feel his friend perk up and wanted to kick him. "Have to get back to work – busy day," he said.

Barty smiled. "Ah, that's too bad," he said disappointedly. "But yes, don't want to keep you! I hope we catch you sooner next time," he said. His eyes flickered with something indiscernible.

Remus forced a stiff smile. "Yeah, definitely."

Barty and his companion stared after the retreating forms with flashing eyes. The young man's mouth was set into a tight straight line while the woman's red lips curved into a broad grin that could only be described as excited. Her honey-colored eyes blazed with a spark. Even her posture held a visible charge, like a prowling spider ready to pounce.

"Oh, he is in trouble," she drawled. Her voice spoke lowly with great anticipation. It dripped with pleasure.

Her male companion, however, chewed his lip with slight concern. He stared after the door as he saw the taller man disappear behind it with a clenching heat in his stomach that he identified as anger. He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for that damned werewolf – Rowan would be eating out of the palm of his hand by now if it weren't for him. He'd still be in his master's good graces – wouldn't be partnered with this psychotic bitch – if it weren't for Remus Lupin. He wanted nothing more than to carve his name into the Half-breed's back, just as he had with his sniveling rodent of a friend.

"Don't concern yourself over them, Crouch," cooed "Eris." She leisurely sat down at the table that the two other men had abandoned moments before, taking a long swig from the pint that Peter had left behind with great relish. Her eyes danced with laughter. "We'll find little Squirmy Wormy later tonight and pull the conversation with the Half-breed out of him. No need to worry about it now." She rested her chin upon a long-fingered hand and smiled, broad and scarlet. "Besides, it's not like he can do much anyway, can he? There's never been a more useless man as poor, pathetic Peter."

Barty nodded vaguely, but the worry remained. True, Peter Pettigrew was quite possibly the most pitiful wizard in Britain, but he'd still gone against their orders to not contact his friends until they gave him permission. To see him with Lupin alone was worrying considering the man's relationship with Rowan. He still needed that girl as a gateway to the Order of the Phoenix, and if Lupin even considered going back to Rowan, he knew she'd be completely beyond his reach – Dumbledore and the Order would be beyond his reach.

He sat down with the anger still flaring in his chest. He hoped spitefully that Peter's back wounds hadn't closed yet – he would dig much deeper tonight. He would make sure that Peter Pettigrew never disobeyed him again.

Despite the excruciating heat, Peter felt his lungs expand with relief as Remus pulled him out of the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as they hit the sidewalk, the taller man grabbed his arm and began pulling him down the street and out of Diagon Alley. The fast movement tugged at the wounds in his back painfully, and he winced with each step. He wanted to vomit from the strain.

When they reached the I.C.E., Remus tugged Peter into the building, down long, winding hallways filled with men and women in long white lab coats and even a strange assortment of magical creatures. Eventually, he found himself in a small, white office filled with books and cages of what looked like kappas with bared teeth and tiny hands full of cucumbers. Remus sat him down in a seat and filled a glass of cold water, shoving it into his hands. The sudden chill shot through his bones. He felt quite lost.

"Here, drink this," Remus murmured before sitting down across from Peter. He looked at Peter with a hard look. He trembled again. "What the hell was all of that back there?" he asked. It was nearly a growl.

Peter felt his hands shake again, placing the glass on Remus' desk before he could spill it on anything important. He gripped his pants to try to still his hands, but to no avail. One of the kappas slapped its cucumber against the bars of the cage and snarled at him aggressively as if it knew just how weak he was. He felt even more pathetic.

"I-" he started, but couldn't continue. He thought of groomed straw-colored hair coming out of place with shaking fury, flashes of red light reflected in brown eyes. He thought of contorting faces, full, seductive lips thinning to cruel grins and shrieking laughter. His entire body shook and heat stung behind his eyes. His stomach seized painfully with sick nausea.

Remus watched him carefully with his mouth in a taut line. He hadn't felt so weak in several months. Why had things turned out this way? What had he done to deserve this kind of pain?

"Pete," Remus said softly, "Something is wrong with Eris, isn't it?" he asked lowly.

Peter jerked up. "No!" he blurted. His face burned with shame. He could feel her long fingers wrap around his neck, her wand carving curses into his back. Remus looked at him with furrowed brows, obviously disbelieving. "No, it's just that… that…" he stammered, mind groping for straws desperately.

"We had a row the other day!" he said quickly. He tightness in his chest slackened slightly with relief, but Remus' expression was still skeptical.

"I wasn't ready to see her yet, which is why I was so nervous earlier. I'll make up with her later though," he explained quickly. "Don't worry about it!" He laughed nervously and kicked himself for how hysterical he sounded. Remus obviously still didn't believe him.

"Peter," he started gravely. His gaze was dark. "If y-"

Sickly pale skin and red eyes flashed in his mind. His back burned.

"I'm fine, Remus!" he shot back suddenly. Remus jolted slightly at the sudden interjection with wide eyes. Peter kicked himself again. He'd never been so rude to Remus. Why couldn't he be more natural? He needed to change the subject now.

"You have to get back together with Rowan!" he blurted again.

Remus stared hard at Peter. He felt his face burn under his friend's intensity, but Remus didn't respond. He took the opportunity to push forward and take control of the conversation's direction. The gashes in his back stung bitterly.

You will listen to me, Wormtail.

"You two belong together," Peter said shrilly. "She shouldn't be with Barty. She should be with you!" Remus' gazed still held, eyeing him warily. Something dark flickered in his gaze. Peter trembled. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, his jaw chattering and trembling, but he pushed forward.

"With the way things are going, you should be with the ones you love the most!" he argued. His mind was a cluster of chaos. He could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone express them. Rowan's face – the way her eyes burned for him so many months ago – glowed behind his eyes.

"Please, Remus," he begged shrilly. "She loves you! Don't you love her too? How can you stand to see her with someone else?" He felt his eyes sting hotly and tried desperately to blink the tears away. "She's been waiting and waiting for you, and yet you're going to keep pushing her away when there are so many reasons to be with her?"

His eyes bored into Remus, who continued to stare at him with a hard, indiscernible expression, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tight. He searched his face frantically for any sign that he comprehended his words.

Please hear me, he begged silently.

"How can you…" He felt the burning in his back spread down his limbs, into his lungs. He saw pale skin and red eyes. He heard high-pitched laughter resonate through his chest, into his stomach. Red light flashed behind the amber eyes that had been engraved into his heart. He wanted to cry.

"How can you be apart from her?" he breathed.

Everything in him seemed to drip away – the air, the fire in his blood, his heat, his blood; everything. The sound of shrill laughter bore down on him heavily, and he trembled beneath its weight. He thought of pale skin, smooth cold scales slithering around him, the feeling of his bones and skin twisting under the fire of a long-fingered, white hand.

He felt her slipping away, fading into the red light. Everything in him ached. If he couldn't do this… If he couldn't even save her, then for what had he endured all the agony? His mind screamed. Please hear me.

"Okay," Remus said.

Peter's head jerked up to see Remus gazing at him, almost dejectedly. He didn't dare believe what he'd heard.

"You're right," Remus said quietly. He ran his hands through his hair slowly, fingers tugging at the brown and gray strands. "You're all right," Remus said to himself.

Peter wanted to throw himself at Remus' feet, kiss the ground he walked on, but he couldn't find his voice. His eyes burned, but he blinked away the tears, grateful that Remus' gaze remained downward. His chest felt like it could explode at any moment with gratitude. Remus would be there. He would be there for her! If Remus were there, she would be safe. He'd protect her. It didn't matter if he'd dirtied himself. It didn't matter if she never knew how much he wanted those bright gazes for himself. She would be safe.

"I just…" Remus started quietly. Peter watched him with bated breath. The taller man kept his gaze downward – long, scarred fingers dangling between his knees. "I don't know…" he trailed off. Peter could see the battle waging inside of his friend.

"You have to talk to her," Peter breathed.

Remus' head jerked up and stared incredulously at Peter. The smaller man's face burned red, but he moved forward. This was it. He just needed to push forward – just a little further.

"You just need to talk to her," Peter said again. His eyes blazed with determination. Remus was slightly taken aback by the sudden ferocity in his friend's expression – he had never seen him look so strong before. He felt surprisingly weak in comparison.

"You have to tell her how you feel and that you're there to stay," Peter said. His voice trembled slightly, but his face was determined, his jaw much more square than Remus had ever seen. "She probably won't believe you at first, but you have to show her how much you love her. You have to prove that you're there to stay."

"I know all of that," Remus said quietly. "I just don't know how." He looked down at his hands.

"I don't either," Peter admitted, "but you know her better than anyone else, don't you? You'll find a way."

Remus looked at Peter with a searching expression, and Peter felt the bricks of his fortifications being pulled out one by one. The panic began to seize his chest again, but then the corner of Remus' lips twitched slightly – the smallest of smiles. It was so small, and yet so bright.

"Thank you, Peter," he said quietly.

Peter smiled genuinely back. The two men sat in silence, simply enjoying the stillness between them and the momentary reprieve from the heat. Peter vaguely thought how strange it was to hope for Rowan to give Remus another chance, and yet he'd never wanted anything so badly in his entire life. His thoughts were interrupted by another question.

"If something was wrong… If you were in trouble, you'd tell me, right?" Remus asked slowly.

Peter nodded without thinking. He didn't trust his own voice. The brief contentment he'd just had fell away, and the fear gripped his chest again. He prayed he'd have the opportunity to see Rowan and Remus together again – prayed he'd be able to see her safe and happy. A shiver crept up his spine that had nothing to do with the icy glass in his hands. He knew he'd be seeing Barty Crouch and "Eris" later that evening. The cuts in his back burned.