Symphonie Fantastique

The heat and light of the high July sun was Remus's greatest pleasure. It burned his cheeks, bleached his hair, and ripened the fruit on the trees in the orchard. He bathed in the long days that made it seem like the moon would never arrive. James and Lily were due to have a baby this month. Did time really move so quickly? Hadn't they all just met last week?

He was glad Sirius had moved in at the beginning of the summer and they could live off his salary and the sale of some food from their land. He had tried to hold down a job, but all his employers eventually figured out what was wrong with him, why he disappeared around the same time every month. With every job he lost, he felt his separation from society grow deeper. He had been a werewolf almost twenty years, but he had never gotten used to the transformation. The physical pain, he had found, didn't even encompass half the problem. He realized that he was alone in the world except for Peter, James, and Sirius. While he didn't need a lot of companions, he was still disquieted by the idea that he had no one except for the other three.

Without work his days sometimes felt monotonous, comprised of walks in the garden, cleaning the house, doing occasional research, and waiting for Sirius to come home. Even someone like himself, he found, that preferred to keep others at arm's length, missed the daily opportunity for conversation with a variety of people. True, he enjoyed the peaceful life, but at the same time he felt isolated. Writing letters simply wasn't the same as human interaction.

Letters, Remus thought. James had barely written since he and Lily were so busy preparing for their new child, and the last one from Peter had somehow unnerved him. There was nothing on the surface to make him uneasy; rather it was the lack of text that struck him as strange. Peter was usually as thoughtful in his letters as he was in life. He wrote in a small, precise hand, every word carefully chosen. This last letter, though, had sounded like something written out of obligation rather than friendship.

Remus-

All is well here. Mother and I are doing fine. I'm still working at the Ministry. They've got me doing some finance work. Knew being good at math was going to help me one day. I still wish I could find a job where I could use all those so-called useful skills we learned in school, but I guess you have to take what you can get. Hope you and Sirius are all right. Have you heard from James lately?

-Peter

As he walked among the cherry trees, he memorized the uneven grain of the parchment in his hands. Much as he wanted to tell Sirius, he kept his thoughts of Peter to himself. For all he knew, he was just being overprotective. It made sense that he would want to ensure that those closest to him were all right. That was one of many traits he attributed to his wolf side: a fierce, primal loyalty to those who kept him company and risked their lives to be with him. They still spent most full moons together, though Remus wondered how that would change when James and Lily's child was born. Sirius alone might not be enough to keep him from murder, and he would much rather spend his wolf nights running through forests with the stag, dog, and rat than chained in his basement, creating more scars.

A small popping sound behind him, almost lost in the slow wind, made him peer over his shoulder.

Peter stood in the shadow of a tree, its fruit still bitterly sour with immaturity.

"Peter! How, er, good to see you!" Quickly, he tucked Peter's letter into the pocket of his robes.

"Hello, Remus."

Peter's words were calm, but his tonality made the hair on the back of Remus's neck prickle. Strange, thought Remus, the last time I felt like this was...when was it? Something is so familiar here, no, someone. Severus. No. Slimy and annoying git, yes, but not frightening. Who is it?

"Would you like to come inside?"

"Thank you."

Malfoy. That was it. Peter sounded like Lucius Malfoy. Aloof. Detached. Sure of himself. Empty. Everything Remus knew Peter not to be. It added to his sense of worry that had been engendered by Peter's letter. Studying his friend as they walked, he wondered if anything remained of the Peter he knew. Where was the prudent selection of words, the laughter, or the wondering look in his eyes? Slowly but unquestionably, Peter had changed. Maybe it was all a part of his growing into adulthood. Remus knew that for all Peter's intelligence, he had never had a lot of self-confidence. Was that uncertainty growing?

The two men headed for the house, Peter shielding his eyes from the blistering sun. Suspicions began to swim in Remus's head, but he said nothing as he guided Peter to the small kitchen. He forced himself to make tea and conversation, silently questioning why Peter was here at such an odd time.

"Sirius isn't here, is he?" "No, he won't be back until later."

He sensed Peter relaxing at this assurance. Peter had never felt entirely comfortable when he was alone with Sirius because they had such different personalities. He knew Sirius cared deeply for Peter, though Sirius sometimes felt they had to stretch to have any lengthy discussion. Peter flipped through the Daily Prophet on the table, not reading. Seeing the newspaper made Remus think of something that had been nagging him.

"Bizarre things have been happening. I know it's because of the one whose name they won't speak. Lots of people have been disappearing. No one I know personally, but it can't just be coincidence for all these disappearances to be happening so close together. And Sirius told me worse things have been going on than the paper's willing to report. Strange deaths, some people even tortured, and homes are being destroyed. It scares me. I wonder some days whether Sirius is going to make it home."

Peter nearly spilled tea down his robes as he jerked his head up from the paper. Remus knew. He had to leave before Sirius could find out. Sirius would probably tear him apart with his bare hands.

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Peter, is anything wrong? You seem...like there's something not right."

The words "because if I wasn't looking at you sitting at my kitchen table, I'd swear I was talking to Lucius Malfoy" rang through Remus's mind, but instead he said lightly: "You're just quieter than usual."

"Everything's fine."

"Don't lie to me, Wormtail," Remus added, even lighter.

Was it Remus's imagination, or did Peter flinch? A shadow had crossed his face when Remus addressed him. Watery blue eyes registered alarm. Remus could spot a liar at a hundred yards, and they both knew it.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Is it something Sirius should know about?"

"It's not that important. But Remus, please, promise me you won't tell Sirius I was here. You know how he gets when he thinks something might be wrong with you or me or James. I don't want him overreacting and running off the way he tends to do."

Remus, usually not the type to resort to violence, had to restrain himself from reaching across the table and punching Peter in the nose in his frustration. As he looked at Peter, however, it seemed to him that someone had already taken care of that. He hadn't noticed the bruise before, but it was definitely there, faded. Why was his friend acting so oddly? There was a puzzle here to solve, but none of the pieces wanted to fit together. There had to be a connection between Peter's demeanor and the reportings in the Daily Prophet, but he couldn't make it.

With a reluctant sigh, he said, "I promise. Is someone torturing you?"

Peter hesitated in his response.

"Peter, please, you can come and stay with us if someone's after you. We'll hide you. You'll be safe. Sirius and I will watch out for you." His words tumbled out, pushed by concern for Peter's safety. He felt like killing the one who would hurt his friend. It wasn't a feeling he relished, but it was there nonetheless. The sudden fire in his blood reminded him of why he valued his friends so much.

Peter shook his head. "James."

"Someone's after James? Someone's hurting James?"

"No, no, I-I'm just worried about him. You too, of course. And Sirius."

"Do you think one of us should go stay with James and Lily?"

"No, I think they'll be fine." Yes, that was it. Turn Remus's thoughts away from him. "James can handle himself." He scratched his left forearm absently. "James," he thought, "please forgive me."

"Yes, that's true." Remus looked at him curiously. "What did you do to your arm?"

Peter thought fast through the panic. Could Remus see it? No, it was too high up, covered by his robes. The cuts near his wrist. Cat scratches? Overexcited mail owl?

"Oh, just, er, taking care of the garden for Mother. Those rosebushes can be nasty sometimes."

"Who's hurting you?"

"Remus, it's nothing. Just a few scratches. From a rosebush."

"A rosebush."

"Yes."

Remus stood. "Let's go for a walk." It was a command, rather than a suggestion.

The sun had passed its midpoint and was beginning to move west. As they walked through the grounds, Remus remained silent, but Peter could see him turning over their conversation in his mind.

"We would die for you, Wormtail."

"That name. Please stop using that name," begged Peter silently. That's how He referred to him.

"You do know that?"

Peter nodded.

"And you trust us?"

"Yes, of course."

"And you know you can depend on us?"

"Yes."

"And you would tell us if something was wrong?"

Finally, a question he could answer truthfully. "Yes."

They didn't know. Relief cleared his mind. Nothing was wrong. In fact, nothing ever had been so right, though he knew it was stained with evil. When he'd taken the mark, the wand searing his skin, he'd felt a surge of conquest. He finally had what he'd been thirsting for all his life. After the pain had subsided, he'd looked at the other faces in his circle. Fidelity and hunger bound them to their master and each other. He had let them capture him out of fear and longing and stayed when he realized they were more powerful than he ever could have imagined. James would be theirs. He had sworn his loyalty and knew he faced torture if he turned back on his promise.

Would Remus understand? Peter worked his mouth around the words, which refused to form. That was the price, having to keep a secret from the only people who had taken the time to care about him outside of his family. He wanted to tell Remus but knew he would pay for it with his life. Remus might die, too, if anyone found out. Better to keep things to himself. It was difficult being caught between the sides of dark and light, but he knew he wouldn't have to be that way for much longer. In a bitter sort of way, he enjoyed it. He had the power to move between worlds, a power that no one could ever know he possessed. It was a game to him, to see how far he could step on to one side without the other finding out. If he allowed Remus to get hurt in the game, he would lose.

"Wormtail--" Remus had not imagined Peter's recoiling at the name. "If you're afraid of leaving your mother, she can come here, too. We'll be a little crowded, but it's better than coming home to see your house destroyed. You know Sirius and I would do anything for you."

Anything? Peter unconsciously raised an eyebrow. Would Sirius be able to keep his temper if he knew James would probably be dead within a year? Would Sirius ever understand his need to belong, when he had never been on the outside of anything? None of them would ever know what it was like to feel incompetent, always straining for the right words. The Slytherins had given him their secret and branded him as their possession. He had been almost completely stripped of free will, but he enjoyed the raw feeling of the knowledge left in its place against his mind. Who had he been to the Three? They had called him their friend but would not trust him with the traits that separated them from the rest of Hogwarts. Who were they to tell him anything? So many years together: James had married, Sirius and Remus were living together-- they didn't seem to care that he was on their outside. No matter, he was on someone else's inside. Someone with magic beyond anything his friends could accomplish.

"Remus, we'll be fine. I promise."

"I don't understand why you're hiding from me."

"I'm not hiding anything! Why are you so convinced I'm going to be the next one to disappear? Is that what you want?" He could feel Remus freeze in shock at his remark. In that moment, he hated himself for lying to Remus, who had always been the sympathetic listener. At the same time, he smiled at a well-placed move in his game of good versus evil. The only thing that had held him back all this time was the love he knew Remus, Sirius, and James had for him. He shared that feeling, but it couldn't eliminate the void in his mind that begged to be filled with the wisdom that comes only from power.

"Why on Earth would you think I want you dead? How could you say something like that? Peter, you're like a brother to me. You have given so much for me, I feel like I could never repay you. I want to keep you safe, it's the least I can do."

"I'm perfectly safe."

"I don't believe you."

Peter grabbed Remus by the upper arms and turned him so that he was looking up into Remus's face. "Leave me alone, Remus, please. There are some things you'll just never understand. You and Sirius and James..."

"James," he thought, "please forgive me."

"...You've all got lives of your own, and I'm not as involved with that anymore. We're not in school. This is the real world. I'm a grown man, and I can handle things myself."

"But from what Sirius has told me, no one is out of harm's way. This wizard, he's got followers. Dangerous ones. I've heard rumors about some of the people we went to school with. Lucius Malfoy. Severus. If they're on his side, it could be disastrous. They were some of the smartest people in our class, and I wouldn't put it past them to use Dark Arts to get what they want. Peter, you have no idea what's out there. "

"No, Remus." Again, that cold, distant tone that made Remus cringe. "You are the one who has no idea."

With that, he Disapparated, leaving a stunned Remus staring at rows of tomato plants. He could still feel the pain of Peter's tight grip on his arms.

"Peter," he said to the void, "what's going on? Why are you so scared? Why are you wearing your longest robes in the middle of July? Where did that bruise come from?"

Rage pervaded Remus. He wanted to meet the person responsible for Peter's injuries when he was in full wolf form, with all the strength and unbridled bloodlust he didn't have as a human. Who was it that was making his friend act so mysteriously? What was Peter hiding? He didn't like the feelings of anger his meeting with Peter had stirred inside him. They were memories of the wolf, uncontrolled and deadly. It was as though the wolf knew what Peter wouldn't tell and dared him to see past Peter's words with only the feelings of violence as a clue.

"Are they hurting you? Are they tormenting you like they did in school?"

His only answer was the breeze sweeping faster through the gardens.

"Why are you so insistent that I not talk to Sirius? I won't, but Peter, I don't like it. I don't like the idea of you being threatened, and I know Sirius could help you better than I."

The scent of apples, and pears from far away, brushed him.

"Why did you look so troubled when I called you Wormtail? I call you that because I love you, because it reminds me of what you gave so I could have companionship."

A low rumbling noise in the distance disturbed him. He looked up, surprised to see dark clouds forming to the north. Miles away, a storm was growing.

"Why have you changed? Why can't you talk to me?"

Troubled, Remus headed for the house before the rains could arrive.