Marauders Chapter 26
Wow this was a long one and a long wait! I have been so busy with work and school, and this chapter was especially hard for me to get right. Just as I am using this series to see how James and Sirius grew out of their bullying ways, I want to work to see how Peter grew into the cruel cowardly man we all will come to know. I hope this chapter gave you guys some insight into where I'm going with his character and thanks to everyone who has stuck around this long! If you're new, new chapters will hopefully be more regular going forward. I've set a goal to make sure I am updating biweekly so that I can actually make it to the end. But we've still got a ways to go, next chapter should be a bit lighter with some Blackinnon fluff and a James Potter birthday tribute!
"Come on Pete, come on you're almost there and augh!"
With an exaggerated groan Alvin Pettigrew made a dive to his left side, as a four-year old Peter kicked the football into the goal on Alvin's right. His father cried out in defeat as Peter cheered.
"Alright, one more match," Alvin said getting up and dusting his trousers off "but don't think I'm going to go easy on you this time."
Peter giggled and nodded, sticking his little tongue out, determined. A man of few words even back then.
That's what his father always said when he would clam up at family gatherings "Well, that's Peter, a man of few words."
Even when he was a little boy, his father always called him a man, and when he was small it would make him feel special, strong, but as he grew older it just made him feel even more pressure to live up to his father's image of what a man should be. Alvin Pettigrew worked a lot, and Peter's mom said he was under a lot of stress. Every disparaging remark directed his way, every late-night fight with his mother while Peter muffled his cries in bed, every grim look of disappointment was working towards building Peter a better future. They were paying for his education, and he better have something to show for it. He better not let those boys distract him from why he was there.
"Good marks Peter." His mother would say.
"Could be better though," His father would correct "keep working Pete. If that goof off James Potter can manage it, you certainly can."
"He's not a goof off." Peter said in almost a whisper.
His father ignored him. There wasn't much you could do once Alvin Pettigrew had made up his mind. Not that he was unhappy that Peter had managed to make friends so quickly. He had remarked more than once on how amazed he was that Peter had befriended such prominent members of the wizarding community.
"Our Peter, Margaret, it's incredible. I didn't think he had it in him."
"Alvin," she remarked with disapproval, glancing at Peter who was feigning sleep on the couch in the living room.
"Well, he's never been the most social bloke, has he? I'm proud of him really, just shocked is all."
His tune had changed rather quickly when word of Peter's exploits had reached his father's ears in early second year.
"I don't want to hear any more about these detentions Peter. I'm glad you've managed to make these well-connected friends, but all this trouble they've been getting you into lately, I don't know if they're really the best thing."
Peter broke off that train of thought as quickly as he could, not wanting to imagine a world at Hogwarts where he didn't have the Marauders' protection.
"I'll do better Dad I promise."
His quiet, meek voice managed to pull Alvin out of his initial fury. He moved to put a hand on his shoulder before pulling back awkwardly.
"Yeah, well, that's all I wanted to say. Go on I'm sure you've got summer work to do."
Peter took the excuse, scampering off back into his bedroom. Gone was the father who had allowed him to win at their backyard football matches. He was a man now, and as the years went on their relationship grew ever colder.
The funeral that summer wasn't something Peter could wrap his head around. He grieved for the occasional spot of love and approval his father shot his way of course, but more than anything else he felt a shameful sense of joy that the coldness that permeated throughout his house every summer would be replaced by a sharp feeling of pain. For to feel something, anything, was infinitely better than that numb nothingness. He pushed aside that feeling as quickly as he could, allowing anger to remain as his primary emotion, a fury at the men who had ripped his father from the earth. Father wasn't a word Peter tied a great lot of emotion to, but now he had an association with the word. A pure unadulterated rage filled Peter's gut at the mention of it, and it fueled him, the potential to release that rage once he had graduated, with his friends by his side. That all came crumbling down on Saturday morning.
The mail came in its usual way, owls flying over the tables dropping packages and letters to expectant students, and as always on Saturdays Peter received a letter from his mother. He was surprised, though, when he saw that his family owl had also dropped a package in front of his plate which smelled distinctly of his mother's snickerdoodles. The others noticed this as well, and Peter quickly yanked the package from Sirius' greedy grasp shoving it down his robes to be opened before the quidditch match in the privacy of their dormitory bathroom. He shoved past his friends, ignoring Sirius' teasing remarks about "Peter's mommy wuvving him so much", making his way upstairs. He tore open the letter first expecting something of the usual sort regarding the neighborhood gossip or another lecture in text about keeping up with his studies. He was surprised when a clipping from the Daily Prophet fell out of the envelope. He caught sight of the headline and immediately went back to the letter written in his mother's curly handwriting.
Dear Peter,
I'm sorry you're having to hear this news at school, but I hope you at least heard it from me before the gossip mill started swirling. The men responsible for what happened to your father have been found and captured. They have been sentenced to life in Azkaban. The Prophet article goes over more of the details. I'll be seeing you for Easter break and we can spend the time together, maybe we can go to that muggle fair. It's been a while and they always have the most curious little trinkets.
Make sure and share the cookies!
All my love,
Mom
Peter should have felt relieved, happy, overjoyed, but the most he could manage was a quiet numbness, giving way to a self-righteous anger if he focused too long on the letter's solemn message. He didn't feel up for quidditch after that. Peter spent the rest of the day alternating between staring solemnly at the letter in his hand, eyes flitting between his mother's words and the clipping detailing Alastor Moody's courageous attack on the men who had taken his father's life. He received a deep gash above his right eyebrow for his troubles. Peter ran his hand over the smooth skin above his own right eye and felt the sting of hot, angry tears as he munched on his sixth cookie of the morning. He couldn't help but hear the raucous laughter as the Gryffindors piled into the common room downstairs. The joy emanating from below suggested to Peter that they had won this match…no thanks to him, he thought bitterly. He shook the feeling off, letter still clutched in his hand, as he made his way downstairs.
He grabbed a butterbeer from the pile, trying to make himself scarce in the corner. He shouldn't have bothered, James Potter was able to read him like a book, and the moment he caught side of his dour expression he put everything aside to approach him and ask him what was wrong. Peter simply handed him the letter in answer.
The four friends stood together in their dormitory, the remainder of Gryffindor tower partying away after another fantastic win. But Peter was not in the mood for partying, and neither was the rest of the group, although Sirius was sipping steadily from a bottle of firewhiskey so as "not to waste it". Remus was holding the Prophet article now, scanning the words with an increasingly furrowed brow when Sirius leaped up from his lazy sprawl on James' bed saying: "Let me have a look," as he nearly tore the thing in half in his haste to snatch it from Remus' outstretched hand.
"Sirius." Remus warned, but he just read the article like the rest of them, quickly making note of the criminals' sentence at the bottom of the page.
"I don't know what you're all going on about; it says they got them. That's great Peter. Ooh, life in Azkaban," Sirius said reading the content of the letter more thoroughly and cringing at the severity of the punishment. "Better than the kiss at least." Sirius finished without thinking.
"They deserved the kiss! They deserved worse!" Peter shouted, glaring at Sirius with a rarely seen fire in his eyes.
Sirius looked up, surprised at Peter's sudden outburst, but clocking Remus' warning glare he put his hands up in surrender. "Alright Wormy, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm just saying you can hardly wish that on anybody-"
"Pads, I think that it's high time the Quidditch captain and world famous Quidditch commentator made their way down to the party, don't you?" James shot Remus a severe look, and he nodded back. If anyone could get through to Peter it was Remus, and Sirius was being less than helpful at the moment, especially with a healthy dose of firewhiskey spurring his already impulsive brain forward.
"Alright, if Wormtail doesn't mind us getting back in on the action." Sirius stated, taking another swig of firewhiskey.
"It's whatever." Peter replied, but Sirius was already out the door.
James gave Peter a sympathetic smile, following Sirius downstairs and closing the door lightly behind him.
"Muffliato" Remus muttered, the noise from the party drowned out by a pleasant buzzing sound, as Remus turned to Peter whose foot was tapping along the floor as he looked everywhere but into Remus' soft eyes.
"Do you want to sit?" Remus asked.
Peter shrugged, cracking his knuckles. He ultimately took Remus' advice and sat at the edge of his bed. Remus joined him, sitting on his right side, glancing at him a few times before beginning.
"You know, I'm sure you have a lot of mixed feelings about all of this. It's ok to talk through it. I'm not going to judge you or anything."
"I know you won't." Peter replied, the implication clear.
"The others wouldn't either, Padfoot is just…"
"…an idiot."
Remus snorted at that, but Peter wasn't laughing.
"It doesn't sit well, knowing they're alive." Peter said, admitting what was not even the worst of his bad thoughts for the first time to another human being.
"Killing them isn't necessarily the answer Pete. There are things worse than death, believe me."
"Maybe." Peter said, staring out the window at the moon, halfway around, selfish mind wishing it was full tonight so that the group of them could get up to some trouble. Everything was much easier as a rat, his brain didn't hold onto things as well, he mainly cared about the essentials. Oxygen, food, and the occasional burst of thrilling adrenaline that spurred him on throughout the night alongside his friends.
"Don't go there."
"What?" Peter asked, guilt rising up in him at the possibility that Remus could read his foul little mind.
"I've watched my father spend years trying to quell that same look in his eye, the look you get when you feel like you could have done something different. Your father died a noble death Peter, and I promise you there are worse things they could have done."
Remus unconsciously rubbed at a scar on the back of his arm at that, trying to meet Peter's eye. Remus' father had long since given up on hunting down the werewolf that changed Remus' life forever. Remus still caught him some days, staring into the distance as if maybe if he hunted long enough, he'd be able to achieve the tiniest bit of justice for all the little boys and girls like Remus, haunted by this foul disease because of the selfish actions of one terrible monster.
"I'm going to go out for a little bit." Peter stood abruptly, refusing completely to meet Remus' concerned gaze.
Before he could respond Peter had turned into Wormtail; all Remus saw was a flick of a stringy tale and Peter was gone.
The boys sat next to Lily for a change at breakfast the next morning. Peter had returned late, and Remus had decided to pretend to be asleep, Peter joining him in the little charade; James and Sirius needed no such falsehood, snoring away from a night of good fun following a successful quidditch match. When Peter got out of bed around 6, having drifted in and out of consciousness, never really sleeping at all, Remus quickly dressed before following him down the stairs. They made their way to the Great Hall in silence, surprised to find Lily was already sitting amongst the sporadic group of early risers sipping on coffee together in the Great Hall. Remus took the empty seat on the bench next to Lily, Peter sitting on his other side.
"Morning. Couldn't sleep?" Remus said.
Lily looked up, bleary eyed, a cup full of what amounted to milk, sugar, and a splash of coffee sitting before her. She cradled it close to her chest all the same.
"Shut it." Lily grumbled, her head pounding with leftover firewhiskey from going a little too heavy the night before.
"Morning all!" The sound of James' not entirely welcome voice elicited a grumpy sort of groan from Lily.
"Oh, come now Evans, no one's down here yet. You don't have to act like you're not delighted to see me."
"Who says I'm acting? You're awfully energetic after last night Potter." She stated rather enviously.
James shrugged, reaching across the table for the teapot along with a biscuit, passing over the cream and sugar in favor of a plain cup of the comforting drink. Sirius was far less chipper than his counterpart, providing nothing but a grunt before settling into his sausage and eggs.
"Have you heard the news?" The gang looked up at the sound of this new voice, Alice, full of energy, a copy of the morning's prophet in her hand.
"Alice,"
Peter stood up and left before Remus could even finish his thought, leaving his full plate behind. Alice looked after him, then back to the others.
"What was that about?"
"Nothing," James replied, "Wormtail's just not a morning person. What's going on?"
Alice lit up once again, regaling the group with the story of the most recent capture of a group connected with the infamous Death Eaters. The Marauders exchanged worried looks, the absence of their fourth member noted by no one else except for Lily. James had mentioned the nature of Peter's father's death, and she had a feeling their odd behavior had something to do with it. She watched them make their own polite excuses after Peter's exit, following behind him, and tried to focus on her afternoon tasks. Perhaps she would finish her milky coffee and spend some time in the library, working on some of her upcoming assignments before returning to the Great Hall for lunch.
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor dormitory, the Marauders were doing their best to cheer up their friend, Sirius, surprisingly, being the only one to actually bring out a smile in the boy. He earned himself a detention for lighting off two Dungbombs, clearing out the entire common room, but it was worth it to see the light return to Peter's eyes.
It didn't last, however. By that afternoon the entire castle was buzzing with gossip about the most recent Daily Prophet headline as well as the lesser news of the next slug club meeting rumored to be taking place just before Easter break. Peter's sour mood returned as whispers surrounded him.
"So, you gonna go?" Remus asked Lily, keen to avoid the topic of the recent news for the sake of the boy picking at his chicken a few seats down. He hadn't eaten anything but his mother's cookies since breakfast yesterday morning and, given Peter's propensity for nervous eating, this worried Remus greatly.
"With all this stuff going on I don't know." Lily replied, sipping on her pumpkin juice, looking far more awake than she had that morning. "It feels a lot more like a deliberate act than it really should be. An academic club is all it's meant to be, it's not like I'm trying to pick sides."
"Come on Lily that's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" Remus asked.
Lily shrugged, looking around them. James was trying to amuse Peter with increasingly ridiculous feats, and everyone else in the hall was pretty much occupied watching and cheering him on. Sirius was, curiously, absent…as was Marlene. When James decided to use magic to turn the spaghetti at the center of the table into a tornado, spewing sauce and meatballs across the hall, McGonagall ran forward from the staff table to intervene.
Lily took this as an opportunity to quietly say to Remus: "I heard some people in the library this morning, whispering about Slytherin, how they should just dump the whole lot of them and start fresh, Slughorn included. It's ridiculous, isn't it? You can't judge a whole house on the actions of a few." Remus noticed that Lily glanced at Severus when she said this. He wisely chose to ignore it. "And Slughorn's not that bad. He's old-fashioned and a bit mad, sure, but he's old, isn't he? A product of his time and all that."
"Sure." Remus said, allowing Lily the space to voice all of the things he could tell she'd been bottling up all morning. "I doubt it would matter much, Slytherin or otherwise, if people found out about me anyway, so I hear you."
He said it in barely above a whisper, but Lily heard him and gave him a pitying glance. Before she could respond, a loud voice interrupted them.
"You know if it were me, I would have gone after them ages ago!" The voice, coming from the Slytherin table, carried all the way across the hall. Remus noticed Peter's fists clench. James looked up, McGonagall still reaming him for the tornado, but he was no longer even pretending to listen.
"Well, to be fair Rosier, you're not a sniveling coward."
A familiar greasy voice followed with its own commentary and James immediately stepped forward, ignoring McGonagall's shouts of "Potter, sit down!"
"Quite bold of you to talk about sniveling cowards Snape!" He said.
"Go on, protect your little stooge Potter, that's all he's good for anyway. Building you up into the perfect hero in exchange for a worthless, fancy-haired, dull-minded bodyguard."
James pulled out his wand at this, the sound of "Potter!" issuing from his head of house behind him. But James didn't care, blinded by his rage, he was prepared to take a thousand detentions if it meant showing Snivellus the pain he deserved. He was stopped, however, by a stronger-than-normal grip from the boy sitting next to him.
"James, please just drop it." Peter whispered.
James scoffed, rolled his shoulders, but did as he was told. He sat down rather forcefully, and McGonagall paused before making her way carefully back up to the staff table.
"Loyal little dog aren't you, Potter?" Snape's voice issued from across the hall.
James gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might break, but he refused to rise. He left the Great Hall a few minutes later, off to the Quidditch pitch to run some drills. Snivellus was lucky Sirius hadn't been there or he would have risen to show Snape what a loyal dog really looked like.
Peter followed James out of the Hall quickly, moving up to the common room rather than onto the pitch. He lay in his bed, not bothering to remove his robes, just staring at the unchanging wall as the sun moved steadily across the room, eventually disappearing altogether.
"Don't fight him Peter…"
A ghost of a voice whispered in the dark.
"This danger that's coming, there are going to be more than enough fighters on our side, good witches and wizards, and a lot of them are going to die. You don't have to be one of them."
Two strong hands gripped his shoulders, and Peter tried to figure out who they belonged to. It felt as if the voice was coming out of a void, like Peter had gone completely blind.
"I'm just saying being an auror might be a little steep for you." The voice said.
It sounded pitying, annoyed.
"I'm not afraid." He piped up, shoving the hands from his shoulders, turning to face the person who didn't believe in him.
"It seems like you really believe that son." But his father's solemn face morphed from the kindly man standing above him into something darker.
"But do you think they will?"
Peter turned to where his father was looking, finding Rosier and Snape, laughing heartily. They looked a lot taller than when he had last seen them.
"I would've gone after them ages ago"
"Well to be fair you're not a sniveling coward." The words from that morning echoed across Peter's mind…coward…coward…coward, getting louder and louder until he felt himself falling down, down, down. The ghostly figures of the boys he dreaded facing in his daily life stood above him, growing ever more distant, until they were not but two shadowy figures as if he was seeing them from the bottom of a deep cavern.
"Wormy little guy, isn't he?" He heard a voice from behind.
He turned to see James and Sirius standing behind him. They wore the smirks they normally reserved for the Slytherins or the occasional victim from another house. Peter tried to speak, but all that came forth from his mouth was a variety of squeaks. The boys began laughing as Peter heard another voice from behind.
"That's disgusting! Don't just stand there, kill it."
Lily Evans, who had always been kind enough to Peter, stood high above him now. He looked down again and saw two little feet with stubby little toes on the end. Out of the corner of his beady eyes his whiskers appeared, and he screwed up those eyes trying to change back before jumping onto Lily herself with pleading squeaks, squealing as she kicked him off with a screech.
"Ugh, Potter you toad, kill it why don't you?"
He looked over to see that James was no longer there, rather a boylike creature with wolflike features, not quite a werewolf, but a mix. He looked almost like a boy-wolf style chimera, but he spoke in Remus' voice when he said:
"I'll do it. Disguting little vermin."
Peter felt a hand grip him around his middle. He saw Sirius, baring vampiric teeth, smiling widely.
"Go on then Moony,"
The wand pointed at him without a care from its owner.
"Avada Kedavra"
Peter heard the unforgiveable curse in Remus' distorted voice, he saw a flash of green light, and he woke up in a cold sweat.
"Peter!"
He jumped back, Remus and James stood over him, Sirius rubbing the sleep from his eyes in the bed behind.
"Are you alright?" Remus' voice, always Remus.
It was soft, not the cruel voice from his nightmares. His amber eyes were alight with concern. His furrowed brow was genuine.
"I'm fine." Peter managed to squeak out, still sounding rather like the rat from his dreams.
"Alright then," James spoke up without any further questioning.
"But-" Remus' concerns were cut off by James' next words:
"You heard him Moony, now let's get on with it."
Peter was confused now, James was still in his dressing gown, but he was reaching for his cloak.
"Where are you going?" He asked.
"On an adventure, unless you want to get more sleep Wormy, but I think you're going to want to see this one."
Peter felt his curiosity growing, and as this new sensation filled his brain, the fear from his nightmare slowly began to drift.
"Alright, I guess I'll come."
"Alright, you'll need to transform though. We won't all fit under the cloak anymore."
At those words Peter tensed up.
"I'm actually sort of tired Prongs."
"Ok, um, that's cool if you want to stay…" But Remus cut him off.
"No, I've got it."
He walked over to Peter, giving the top of his head a light tap with his wand. Peter felt as if Remus had poured a pitcher of water over him.
"Disillusionment charm. Sirius, you and James get under the cloak. I have to be out on prefect duty tonight anyway. Sorted."
James nodded. "What do you say Wormtail?"
Peter considered the question as he moved his hand across the room, watching it morph from the Gryffindor scarlet of the bed hangings to the ratty, burnt grey of their carpet from far too many nights experimenting with potions and spells.
"Ok."
The boys snuck out through the common room, which was empty except for the odd fifth year cramming for exams.
They moved slowly downstairs, running into Peeves on the fourth staircase. He was sticking great wads of gum under the banisters.
"Ooh, perfect prefect, Loopy Lupin; are your wittle buddies here, hiding behind walls and charms?"
Peeves asked, looking at the spot of slightly shimmering wall that was Peter standing as still as he could on Remus' right side.
"It's just me Peeves, I'm on patrol duty tonight." Remus said, trying to stand in front of Peter to block him from Peeves' sight.
"Interesting. I just crossed Miss Evans and she said that was her job this fine evening."
"Do you really want to know what we're up to Peeves, or would you rather watch the surprise with everyone else in the morning?"
A wicked grin crossed Peeves' face at that, and he rubbed his chin, considering. "Carry on then." He decided, bouncing off across suits of armor making great clattering noises to the discontent of one caretaker Argus Filch whose shouts of "Peeves!" could be heard booming throughout the castle. James double checked the map, heading in the opposite direction from the caretaker's voice, and towards their destination.
"The kitchens?" Peter questioned.
"That's right Wormtail old boy. We are going to add a rather special ingredient to the Slytherin's breakfast table tomorrow morning." Sirius replied.
"You don't have to do that." Peter said, frowning.
"As if it's for you." Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Those blokes have been asking for it for weeks."
"Ok." Peter said, but he still sounded unsure.
James removed the cloak from over himself and Sirius. "Mischief managed" he said, clearing the map. He then moved forward and tickled the photo of the pear in the portrait and watched the hidden door swing open. The group made their way into the kitchens where they were instantly surrounded by an eager collection of house elves.
"You need a snack or anything sirs?"
"Yes, please." The elves looked around the room, trying to identify the hidden voice.
"Disillusionment charm, no biggie." Remus explained.
"Oh, such talented boys."
A house elf said, walking forward as the others rushed off to fetch Peter something to eat. She looked older than the others, and she carried herself with a confidence that was unusual for a typical house elf. She wore the classic Hogwarts insignia on her white toga-style apron, and upon seeing the boys her face stretched into a welcoming smile.
"Thank you very much Roxie." Sirius replied. "Now, I assume you've started on the breakfast dishes already?"
"Yes sir, we're starting on the breads and such right now."
"Wonderful, and I assume you've been keeping up with the news in the Daily Prophet?"
"Yes sir, terrible things we've been hearing about." She replied, the other elves shaking their heads, aware of countless of their fallen brothers whose fates were hardly covered in the last pages of the paper compared to the deaths and disappearances of wizards and muggles alike which was always front-page news.
"So, I think you might be willing to give us a hand?" James stepped in.
She raised an eyebrow.
"What do you need me to be doing exactly?" Roxie asked, a suspicious but not unwilling glint in her eye.
"All I ask is that you take a moment with your merry gang to find another part of the castle to clean while your various breads and such are getting ready for the oven?"
"I don't know about that Mister Potter sir."
"Come now Roxie, we're not going to do anything uncouth, we're just having a little bit of fun tonight. You can understand that?" Sirius said, a pout crossing his handsome face.
"House elves are not meant to be having fun sir." An elf from the back spoke up.
"Shush," Roxie replied. "I can turn my back for five minutes Mr. Black sir, not a second more."
Sirius smiled. "Thank you my dear." He replied, giving her a kiss on the hand, which caused her greenish skin to turn a strange purple color.
"Troublesome boys." The elf in the back muttered again, but he didn't dare disobey orders, no matter how he might disagree with them. So, he, as well as the others, followed Roxie through a small door which led to a tunnel that James made note to ask about so they could add it to the map.
"Alright, how many drops was it Moony?"
"Three, not one bit more Padfoot. I mean it."
"Alright, alright." Sirius said, moving towards the batter for the muffins and toast for the next morning. After a fake tripping act with the bottle made Peter shoot cookie crumbs out of his nose, Remus snatched the bottle from Sirius, adding the three drops to each batch of batter himself.
They then made their way back to the common room, Remus removing the charm from Peter, all feeling considerably lighter than that morning. However, there was still the inkling of that dreaded nightmare left behind, and, needless to say, Peter didn't get much more than an hour's sleep before the dawn beckoned him out of his comfortable bed.
At breakfast that morning the Slytherins all erupted in disgusting boils, moving as a unit to the hospital wing so that only a handful who had skipped breakfast or passed over the toast, were in lessons later that day. The whole of Gryffindor house, and most of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were laughing heartily while McGonogall swore to get to the bottom of who had done it, looking quite pointedly at the Marauders who were all staring rather intently at their porridge. Unfortunately, Snape was among those who had missed breakfast to do some potions homework, so James made a point to hex him separately in their shared potions class so that he could join his fellows in the hospital wing.
"Detention Mr. Potter!" Slughorn's voice boomed through the dungeon as he escorted Snape, his eyes covered in purple pustules, upstairs. "And class dismissed! I expect that essay on my desk on Monday." James tried to catch Lily's eye after this latest stunt, but she made sure to keep her eyes focused on tidying up her potion ingredients. A few weeks went by, more disappearances, more attacks, and a steadily rising beast of tension between the houses.
A light in a sea of darkness, Remus' seventeenth birthday finally arrived along with the first inkling of warm spring weather, though nobody felt much like celebrating. The reading of the Daily Prophet had become a daily ritual at the house tables, and so the general atmosphere of Hogwarts school was solemn and subdued. Impromptu memorials had been erected throughout the castle, all for students' family members who had gone missing, some aurors, some simply unlucky enough to be muggleborn and in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"There's hardly going to be any aurors left at this rate." Alice whispered, thoughts racing to her boyfriend who was training to join the very force that was being picked off one by one.
"He's not an auror yet Alice, he'll be ok." Lily said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
The Marauders all decided that the lack of a big party for Remus' birthday celebration could be excused by his latest transformation being especially taxing (he had taken nearly a week's recovery in the hospital wing this month).
None of them would say it out loud, James in fact insisted: "Moony's not one for parties anyway, and we are celebrating him after all Padfoot," but they all knew that these excuses were just that. It was a combination of the lack of mood for a party among the Gryffindor house in general, a first year's muggle mother having recently gone missing on a routine trip to visit her aunt in Surrey, as well as a certain Marauder's lack of enthusiasm for…anything really.
"Look, I understand not throwing a party. This isn't the time for it, you're right, but," Sirius glanced around the common room while James pretended to be focused on his transfiguration homework.
He brought his voice down to a whisper, even though the room was pretty abuzz with conversation and the subject in question wasn't anywhere near them: "Just because Peter is still in a sour mood doesn't mean we shouldn't be having any fun. It's been nearly a month Prongs, and we haven't done anything since the great boilgate of '77, I mean come on."
James paused, bringing the end of his quill to his mouth again, the tips of its feathers long gone at this point from endless hours of worried chewing.
"He just needs some time."
"We all have our shit, Prongs. Wormtail needs to grow up and deal with his. I think, if we can't have a party tonight, we can at least try to pull him out of his stupor."
"I'll talk to Moony about it. It's his birthday after all."
Sirius shrugged, sighing and abandoning his own transfiguration homework. He made his way upstairs where Remus and Peter were sitting quietly on their separate beds, Remus reading while Peter puzzled over his work, asking Remus a question now and again.
"Alright, what are we doing tonight? I was thinking a quiet stroll of the grounds, maybe sneak a trip to Hogsmeade."
Remus looked up.
"I thought we agreed on a quiet night in, a couple butterbeers, maybe some exploding snap."
"Come on Moony, you're of age, you can use magic whenever you want, go anywhere you want to go, and you're going to pass your apparition test tomorrow."
"Which is why I need to stay inside and relax. Maybe we can do something this weekend alright Pads?" Remus shot a pointed glance at Peter, who was still frowning at his papers and books.
"Alright, that's it." Sirius unceremoniously grabbed Peter's papers from under his hands, spilling his ink pot all over his bedcovers.
"Come on Padfoot! I almost had that. Scourgify." Peter watched defeatedly as his lackluster cleaning charm only managed to clean up the big slop of ink, leaving behind a pretty nasty stain.
"Sirius," Remus said warningly "Scourgify." He then muttered, succeeding in removing the stain from Peter's bedspread completely.
"Wormy it's been eight months already. You don't see Evans or Jones or Wilson or Stevens moping about just because they lost someone. And some of them don't even know who did it, or if they're even alive. The people who did this are in Azkaban, they're not going to hurt anyone ever again, and your father was a right git anyway, so stop being such a prat."
"What do you even know about it Sirius? You've never liked your parents, and you don't even talk to them anymore even though they're still here, so don't tell me that I don't have a right to be upset, no matter how long it's been."
The tension in the room was palpable, like humidity on a hot summer's day, the feeling that anyone in that room could suffocate at any moment. And like a great gust of wind James Potter walked in and broke it.
"Hey, I heard shouting, what's-"
Sirius shoved past him, followed not so closely by Peter, the both of them going off to separate parts of the castle to brood.
"What did he do?" James asked Remus who was rubbing his nose with that frustrated look he reserved only for when Sirius did something particularly boneheaded.
"I'll find Peter. You just stay here." James sighed, grabbing the map from his bedside table, before turning to Remus, pulling a parcel from his robe pocket.
"Oh. Happy birthday Remus." He handed the package over, before heading out the door.
Remus opened the package on his lap, finding a pack of collectible chocolate frog cards, painstakingly sought out and worth a substantial amount, within. Among his favorites were Alberic Grunnion, inventor of the dungbomb, Remus chuckled at that. Balfour Blane, who established the committee for experimental charms; Lily would be excited to see that one, and Celestina Warbeck, who James knew Remus had a slight crush on. She waved at him from her little window, shooting him a cheeky wink, and he felt some color rush to his cheeks.
Sirius walked through the halls alone; it wasn't that late, a number of students were still milling about the corridors, making their way back towards their common rooms or towards the library for a last-minute bout of studying before it closed. As he moved, not paying much attention to where his feet were taking him, he found himself walking along the corridor near the dungeons, a group of Gryffindor boys he recognized as fourth years pushing a boy in Slytherin robes to the floor. Sirius moved forward, considering joining in, depending on which of the Slytherin pack was taking the attack, Mulciber had a nasty penchant for curses. One of the Gryffindors pulled out his wand, and as Sirius approached, finally getting a good glimpse of the face of the boy on the floor, he grabbed the Gryffindor boy's arm.
"Hey, what the hell?" The boy turned around, saw it was Sirius behind them, and grew even more confused. "Black, what's your problem?"
"Leave him be Cole."
Martin Cole, the boy who Sirius had stopped from hexing the young Slytherin, chuckled and ripped his arm from Sirius' grip.
"Shove off Black."
He turned his attention back to the boy on the floor, wand aimed at his chest.
"Hey!" Sirius whipped Cole around with one swift motion, shoving him to the ground.
"I said leave it."
Cole stood up, abandoning the boy on the floor for the moment.
"Or what?"
Sirius' eyes lit up with a fire that he hadn't felt in months as he raised his fist, giving Cole a swift punch in the nose. A great gush of blood squirted out onto the other boy's white dress shirt. He squeezed his nose tight, trying to staunch the bleeding, as his friends stepped up.
"What the hell is wrong with you Black?"
Two of them moved forward, wands at the ready, but Sirius hit one across the face, and one in the stomach, their wands clattering to the floor.
"What, too afraid to face me man to man?" Sirius said.
The fourth boy moved forward, throwing his own wand on the floor voluntarily, before punching Sirius across his jaw. Sirius relished in the sting, smiling widely at the slight metallic taste in his mouth.
"Wonderful Belfast. Step up the lot of you."
He said gesturing at Cole and the boys still picking themselves up off the floor. The group of them converged on Sirius, Cole's nose still leaking blood as he approached.
Sirius struck first, getting faces, stomachs, even kicking Cole hard in the shin. But the other boys were more ready this time, and they gave as good as they got. With four on one Sirius was quickly overwhelmed. Cole tackled him to the floor, struggling to hold him down, getting a good hit in, cutting Sirius' head open above his eyebrow. The assault was interrupted with shouts of: "Mr. Cole! Mr. Black! What is going on here?"
Cole immediately jumped off of Sirius at the sound of the familiar voice, picking himself up and dusting off his robes.
"Professor McGonagall, we were just…" But Cole didn't have an answer for her.
Sirius was picking himself up off the floor, trying to staunch some of the bleeding with his sleeve. McGonagall turned her attention to the other boys, noticing the young Slytherin standing in the back, practically camouflaged by the shadow of the wall, without a scratch on him. She noted his eyes, his nose, his haughty expression, and took a deep breath as she turned back to Sirius, an ugly bruise rapidly forming on his cheek below the cut above his eye.
"Get to the hospital wing, all of you. Madame Pomfrey will fix you up. Don't let me catch you engaging in this barbaric behavior again, or there really will be trouble."
Sirius shot an imperceptible look at the Slytherin, and Regulus Black shifted awkwardly under his brother's piercing gaze. Without another glance Sirius and the rest of them headed off to the hospital wing telling Cole, "You've actually got a nice right hook there, mate," and Regulus continued on his way back to the Slytherin common room.
James was walking through the Hogwarts halls following the little dot labeled Peter Pettigrew, hurrying along as he saw three unwelcome names approaching his friend.
"Hey Pettigrew!" James heard the voice and snuck through a little hall behind a tapestry practically running towards the vicious voices whose names were represented on his map.
"Where's your daddy huh? Guess he can't protect you now."
"Mischief managed." James whispered, shoving the blank map back into his pocket as he burst through the tapestry to find Snape, Avery, and Rosier surrounding Peter who was backed up against a wall.
They looked up, and Rosier sneered at James' heroic entrance. "Oh, your new daddy came out to save you, huh, Pettigrew?"
"Get behind me Wormtail." James said, but Peter didn't seem relieved to see him.
To James' surprise he seemed almost annoyed.
"What's your plan Potter?" Snape asked, a furious rage evident in his voice. "Have Black sneak up from behind and turn us all into roaches?"
"Still sore about that book Snivellus? I would have thought you'd find it by now being such a genius and all."
"I told you. I've already written a new one, and I've been dying to test this new spell out." Snape replied, pulling his wand from his pocket.
Peter, however, stepped forward and grabbed James' wand arm before he could raise his own.
"Prongs, don't."
"Don't worry Wormtail. These cowards know they can't match me in a duel, even three on one."
"Boys."
The group all turned, Professor Flitwick standing off to the side, looking oddly stern despite his tiny stature.
"I trust I won't have to prove my own adeptness at dueling tonight, as you all well know I was quite the champion back in my day."
They all muttered some apology as Flitwick held his own wand at the ready.
"Now, get back to your common rooms, all of you."
He glanced pointedly at James and Snape who both huffed before turning in opposite directions, making their way down the corridor under Flitwick's watchful eye.
"You should have let me handle it." Peter said, indignant. "Now they'll be hassling me all day tomorrow about not being able to defend myself."
"That's what friends are for Wormtail, no one can take three on one."
"You can." Peter said, not even trying to hide the bitterness lacing his tone.
"Cause of that load back there? I was just trying to get them to back down without a fight. Besides, we could have handled them together."
"You more than me."
James flashed back to an earlier conversation between the two of them, on the night of Peter's father's funeral.
"You're still pretty broken up about your dad's killers, huh?"
Peter shrugged.
"I know Moony was saying that you wanted to be the one to catch them. I don't blame you. I'd want the same thing if I was in your shoes."
"You going to tell me revenge doesn't solve anything, and I should just be happy I had a dad who wanted me in the first place, right?"
"Not at all." Peter looked at James, surprised.
"I know your relationship with your dad was complicated, Pete, but that doesn't mean you wanted him dead. We can't change the fact that his direct killers are in Azkaban, of course, but there's still one person out there who is to blame for your father's death, and we're going to get him. I'll make sure of it."
"Who do you mean?" Peter asked, not following James' train of thought.
"Voldemort." James said, only slightly shuddering at the use of the name that had grown to be the most feared in the wizarding world.
Peter, on the other hand, turned pale. James paused in the middle of the corridor, right below Gryffindor tower. He turned to face Peter head on.
"He's the man who is responsible for your father's death Peter. We shouldn't give him any more respect, right?"
"Right" Peter replied, although he could feel his throat being constricted as he realized what James was going to ask of him next.
"So, say it." James said.
Peter paused, looking around as if he were a little kid about to get caught saying a dirty word by his mother.
"Vol-Voldemort" He managed to stutter out.
"Good man." James said, clapping Peter on the back for his courage. "And we're going to take him down one way or another. But we've got one more year left so we're going to enjoy it, and learn all we can." James said. "And as for the matter of Padfoot."
"He's gonna kill me" Peter groaned, remembering his venomous words from just hours prior.
"Well, then at least you'll die knowing you did the right thing." James smirked at him, but Peter sighed, walking towards the common room on legs like lead.
Sirius had already returned, having been patched up by Pomfrey in a flash and abjectly refused her insistence that he stay the night just in case.
"Hey." Peter said, approaching him first after a light shove from James pushed him over by the fire where Sirius sat.
"Hey." Sirius said, not looking up from the transfiguration homework laid out before him.
"Look, about earlier, I was out of line." Peter said, waiting with bated breath for Sirius' response.
"Yeah, you were." Sirius started, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He finally looked up at Peter's terrified face, "but I've been out of line a lot more times before then. You're frustrated and upset, I get it. But I also want you to join in with some mischief this weekend for Remus' birthday. It's been too long."
"I can do that." Peter nodded, and Sirius punched him lightly on the arm.
"Cool. All is forgiven then Wormtail, but we're going to need a..." He looked around at the still relatively crowded common room, and dropped his voice to nearly a whisper "…different version of you to help us out this weekend for us to be completely square."
"Alright," Peter replied, and James smiled, seating himself next to Sirius by the fire.
"Up for a game of wizard's chess Peter?" James asked, summoning his set from up in their room.
"Yeah, let's do it."
And as Peter sat down across from James, setting up the pieces, and preparing to make his first move, he couldn't help but feel like a great burden had finally been lifted off his shoulders. James was right. When their time at Hogwarts was done, they would be by each other's side to go after Voldemort himself. Screw what his father had told him, screw the Slytherins who didn't believe in him, James knew what he was capable of, and Peter wasn't going to let anything stand between him and the justice his father deserved.