How I Could

Gregor Lestrange locked the door and turned to face me. "In the chair, Wormtail, and keep your hands where I can see them."

I scowled as I made my way to the seat. "My name is Peter," I muttered resentfully.

Lestrange gave a short, barking laugh. "An Animagus who can turn into a rat?" he smirked. "The name suits you and you’ll answer to it."

I sat in the chair, glaring at the wall and at the fireplace in front of me. Lestrange had my wand, so there was little enough I could do. He was staring off into space out the window, as though waiting for something. He bothered me. "Why am I being kept like this?" I asked.

Lestrange looked right at me, in a way I only thought his wife could, and answered in a calm and icy voice, "You have betrayed your closest friends and sent their deaths to them. Both the Dark Lord and I have little reason to believe you would not do the same to us."

I was a little cowed, but I retorted, "When this is all over, you’ll wish you hadn’t said that." Lestrange didn’t deign to reply. I turned my gaze back to the blank wall. My hands were clutching each other in a fit of nerves, simply out of habit. But a small glow of pride had sparked.

Good for you, Peter. About time you stood up to them.

I flinched. That was James’s voice in my head.

"No!" I whispered under my breath. "You are not about to let that get to you!"

I had a plan, you see. The trick was to think of them like they were already dead. James was the hero who could never resist a chance for attention. Lily was an excitable Mudblood who was never satisfied with doing anything normal. I practiced with the others too, because once my master got ahold of them, they’d be past tense too. Sirius was a bully who never really liked me. And Remus was always nice to me just because my dad used to pick him up for school in September.

That cheered me up, thinking about those people like that. I began to imagine the rewards I would reap when the Dark Lord came back from Godric’s Hollow and honored me. Those others never respected me. Well, Remus never said anything. He always felt like he was in my debt for some reason. Probably for never telling. I know Sirius always doubted me, wondered how I had dared to get into the same house as him and James. He always said he was joking when he’d say things, but we both knew he was lying. Well, he’ll get his for being such an ass to me! And James, well, he never questioned it openly, but I could always see it behind his glasses: a qualm about my character, a touch of misgiving about my qualifications. It always hurt me. I tried to make them accept me: I tried so hard, I really did. But then I realized that there were greater things in the world than the Marauders -- of whom I really was never a part, just the rat along for the ride -- and honestly, if you can’t beat them, join them. The Dark Lord has so much more to offer me than they did.

I never told them why I was in Gryffindor, why the Sorting Hat placed me with them. I remembered that conversation so vividly: sitting up onstage, alone with a talking hat.

"Stop shaking, young ‘un, I can't see anything with you jostling me about like that!"

Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry...

"No need for all that, just keep still so I can do my work. Well let’s see, what we have here? I’ve seen your family here before. All Hufflepuffs they were."

If you put me there it’ll be easy and my parents will be proud and I can get off this stage and people can stop looking at me and hasn’t it been long enough? Please can’t you let me go?

"Er, maybe not Hufflepuff -- you lack the virtue of patience, I see. And not exactly one to pursue books: that leaves out Ravenclaw. You’ve little talent for heavy loads, I think."

Please stop! Please let me go!

"The easy way out, eh? You just want to escape? I may just keep you up here to spite you..."

NO!

"Calm down, son! You needn’t be so jumpy! Everyone has to go through this. Why, you’d not complain if you heard what I said to young Mr. Avery..."

Please, I’m not interested, can you please just put me somewhere so these people will stop looking at me?

"Fine. You’re obviously too upset for me to make any kind of rational judgment. What are you so scared of? Are you afraid people won’t like you?"

Everything. People have never liked me.

"The world isn’t all that scary, you know."

I’ve learned otherwise.

"Well, I do this with misgivings, but perhaps exposure to others of this house will give you the courage to stand up for yourself."

And so it put me in Gryffindor. I fell off the stool, and the whole Hall laughed at me. What an introduction. The real Gryffindors were usually nice to me, but I knew they never meant it. I had to tag along and laugh at their jokes and be underfoot for them to pay any real attention to me. I only found out about Remus because I was in bed with the curtains shut when James and Sirius talked about it. They wouldn’t have told me. I was always underfoot, the dimwitted sidekick.

But not anymore. I took my gaze off the fireplace and glanced at my watch. Seven minutes to eleven. My lord ought to be there by now.

I had been staring at the wall, my hands in knots, for several more minutes, when Lestrange’s scream coincided with an explosion of pain in my left arm. Stars burst behind my eyes, and I gasped; my right hand wrapped itself around my forearm, and then pulled the sleeve of my tatty gray robe to the elbow. The Dark Mark was swimming with green and black, and stinging. I looked over at Lestrange: he was curled up on the floor, writhing and moaning. I couldn’t help but give a smug laugh as I watched his back arch and his body begin to convulse, but I stopped as soon as I wondered what was going on. Something must be wrong, something must have happened at the Potters’...!

I had to know. If Lord Voldemort hadn’t killed them yet I couldn’t pay them back for all the things they ever did to me! I glanced at the window, thinking. I have to go and see.

The pain in my arm was still bad, but nothing to what faithful and devoted Lestrange must have been feeling. I stumbled over to him, and kicked him once, gloating. He wasn't paying too much attention to what was falling out of his pockets: my wand had rolled a little ways away from him. I picked it up, and without a backwards glance Apparated to Godric's Hollow.

I appeared about a block away, just for safety's sake. I tucked my wand into my pocket and changed. The world became huge, and I began scurrying through the streets. Old conversations tumbled through my head.

Peter, we want you to be our Secret Keeper.

What about Sirius?

He thought you’d be better. Voldemort would come after him. They’d never suspect you.

It has happened, My Lord... the Potters have made me their Secret Keeper...

Right Peter, just stay here. I’ll come back and check on you toward midnight.

Wormtail. You are to accompany me. We don’t want you running off and telling anybody about all this, now do we?

Someone was crying inside. Someone was still alive! I climbed a pile of debris and edged nearer to the source of the noise. What met my eyes horrified me, but only for a moment.

Sirius was crouched over James. Sirius was sobbing: James was quite dead. It quickened my heart to see them both so broken like that. See? See? Didn’t you realize there are prices to pay?

"Prongs, oh God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it should have been me, I should have been your Keeper..."

I crouched into the dust, shivering. The magnitude of my situation suddenly hit me. Nobody will believe me when I say I didn’t know this was going to happen! And Sirius will know I told Voldemort, and he’ll come after me. But he’s not my worry. Malfoy will kill me! If Rosemund Lestrange doesn’t get me first...

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..."

Very sharply, my eye fell back on Sirius. He was rocking back and forth, cradling James in his arms. Bet he’d never do that for me.

"I’ve died!" he whispered. "James, I’ve died! Why did I let this happen?"

My heart started to pound. I shook with glee. A plan had emerged fully fledged from my head, and it was all playing right into my hands. What about Sirius?

If I can lure him into the right place... I can get rid of him, and then hide somewhere, and wait. In the meantime, I’d have to die, or someone else would take care of that for me. I thought of the myriad times when Sirius had nearly hexed Snape to within an inch of his life for insulting Remus or Lily, of his nasty temper and his impetuous rashness. He would do anything if he was in a rage, with no one to hold him back. And he certainly had no friends. Not now.

Even as I was, a grin spread across my face.

Sirius.

How could you.