Darkness Dying

March 20, 1981
 
Sirius managed to fly his enchanted motorcycle almost all of the way to James’ house before he became aware of the full moon. The Worm Moon, he remembered that the March full moon was called. Like the worms who are compromising the future of humanity by siding with Voldemort.
 
1981 should have been a good year. He and his friends were still young-- the season for celebrating twenty-first birthdays was upon them-- but they were no longer subject to random school rules intended to keep them from enjoying themselves to the fullest.
 
Instead, 1981 had begun as 1980 had ended: with fear and bloodshed. The Quidditch League had finally been shut down, and James had begun to work for Dumbledore openly. Lily had been concerned-- for someone who was looking to be an auror was in much more danger than someone who was a Quidditch player with a few friends who were rather politically outspoken-- but she had agreed that James could do nothing else. The war needed fighting, and James had the talent and nerve necessary.
 
Tonight, James and Sirius were to go on a raid of the Ministry offices. Dumbledore suspected that the Ministry was the source of many of the information leaks that had lately been plaguing those working to bring about Voldemort’s downfall. As a junior auror, Sirius technically worked for the Ministry, but Frank was his direct supervisor and Frank had acknowledged this extra-curricular activity with a wink and a nudge. As a former Hogwarts Head Boy, Frank had a great deal of loyalty to Dumbledore. James did not worry about such things, since he made no pretensions to be working for anyone but Dumbledore. He hoped to join the auror program officially at the soonest opportunity, however.
 
James and Sirius had considered sneaking into the Ministry building through Lily’s office, but they had ultimately decided that this point of entry would be too obvious. They were much more comfortable, and felt just as safe, entering the building through Peter’s office. Peter would be waiting there to aid them, and it would be almost like old times-- Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.
 
But not Moony. Not on the night of the full moon. He wouldn’t have come along, in any case. There would have been no reason for him to do so, although Sirius would have welcomed his presence.
 
I miss him, Sirius was loathe to admit. Where has he been, anyway?
 
Sirius had seen Remus just once since the end of the winter holidays. That had been at Harry’s baptism. James and Lily had deliberately scheduled the event far in advance for a day which would allow all of their friends to attend. On all other occasions, though, Remus had been absent. He had made assorted excuses (though none as unbelievable as “my mother is sick”). The full moons, to which Sirius had looked forward as a monthly excuse to see his friends now that graduation and the war had scattered them to the winds, passed without an adventure more often than not. At least once, Remus had not gone to the abandoned shed on the virtually deserted manor to transform. Sirius had stopped in to check on him the next morning, unexpected and uninvited, and had found both flat and shed devoid of his favorite werewolf.
 
Sirius cut the engines on his motorcycle well before he approached James’ house. Obviously, an enchanted motorcycle did not need engines to fly, but Sirius felt that their presence made the bike seem more authentic. They also added control.
 
The bike dropped sharply from the sky and landed softly in the shadows of James’ yard. James emerged from his front door at once. Behind James, Sirius could just make out Lily’s long hair, its red color dimmed by the lack of light.
 
James and Sirius nodded at one another without speaking and Disapparated to a deserted house less than a mile away. It had lately been attacked by Death Eaters, and no one dared venture near it now. Its fireplace, however, had not yet been disconnected from the Floo network, and it would be simple for James and Sirius to transport themselves to the Ministry.
 
They arrived in the fireplace shared by Peter and several other petty Ministry officials without incident. Peter was awaiting them. His wand was drawn and he looked nervous. Both James and Sirius tried to smile reassuringly.
 
“I’m certain there’s no one in this wing of the building,” Peter informed them in a low voice. “I can’t say for elsewhere.”
 
“Thanks, Wormtail,” murmured James. “What I wouldn’t give for a Marauder’s Map.”
 
“You do have the cloak?” asked Sirius.
 
“Yes. Of course. Don’t tell me the all-mighty auror thinks he’ll need it?”
 
Sirius shrugged. “I thought you might, Jamesey.”
 
“Just wait. I’ll pass you out. You’ll see. Frank will wonder why he ever thought you were the one to put through the ranks like a dragon was after you.”
 
“In your dreams.”
 
“You almost never appear in my dreams.”
 
“Thank Merlin. I wouldn’t want Lily coming after me to beat me up.”
 
“Prongs? Padfoot?” Peter was looking more nervous by the second. Sirius could hardly blame him, and he reminded himself that he was no longer a teenager pulling pranks with his best friend. No, he was an adult with an important job as well as a duty to protect James not from detention but from capture and death.
 
“Just go to your desk, Wormtail,” said Sirius with a calm he did not entirely feel. Frank had lately been warning him about the problems that his quick temper and impulsive nature might cause, and Sirius was doing his best to heed the older man’s warnings. “If we aren’t back inside an hour, either leave or come after us. Your choice-- no stupid risks. We’ll go from left to right.”
 
Peter nodded and retreated. “Be careful,” he muttered under his breath.
 
Sirius and James moved quickly and efficiently through wing after wing. Their senses and thought patterns had been honed by many years of searching out hidden doors and secret passageways, but not a single clue to the recent breaches of security arose. Reluctantly, they admitted temporary defeat and let Peter know that they were leaving.
 
They exited the abandoned house and were fractions of a second from Disapparating when they heard a sharp clatter. Instinctively, they drew their wands to cover one another and defend against whatever threat had made the noise.
 
“You fool!” hissed a cold voice.
 
“I’m sorry!” exclaimed a second, frantic, voice.
 
“As well you might be! You could have compromised the entire operation.”
 
“But no one goes near a house where Death Eaters have struck!”
 
“You’re only saying that because they haven’t so far. You never know when some young auror with delusions of heroism will brave the horrors of an empty house to unravel the plot of the evil Death Eaters.” His laugh sent shivers up and down Sirius’ spine. “We have to get over to the Bones’ house now! Do you want Our Lord to be waiting for us?”
 
The night was pitch black, but Sirius and James imagined that they could see the horrified expressions on each other’s faces nonetheless.
 
The duo of Death Eaters Disapparated with audible pops.
 
“Get Frank,” Sirius ordered James. “Notify the Ministry and then Dumbledore.”
 
James snorted softly in the darkness. “While you go to the Bones’ house alone? I don’t approve of that plan.”
 
“You don’t have to.”
 
“No, I don’t. I’ve never taken orders from you, Padfoot, and I don’t intend to start now.” James punctuated his statement by vanishing.
 
Sirius swore, rather more loudly than was wise, and followed.
 
He did not need to look for James when he reappeared in the street before the Bones’ home. James was shouting at the top of his lungs. “SUE! BRAD! WAKE UP! HE’S COMING! GET YOUR WANDS! SUE! BRAD!”
 
An angry flash of green light illuminated the street, and Sirius saw James’ profile clearly. “JAMES! GET DOWN!” He added a few choice obscenities as he threw himself over James and knocked his friend out of the range of another curse.
 
Their arms and legs remained tangled together as they groped for their wands.
 
Brad and Sue Bones had come outside, looking half-asleep but with their wands drawn. A pop was heard, and then another.
 
“Have they gone?” called Brad tensely. “Lumos.” A pool of light surrounded him.
 
“Look out!” yelled James. Brad Bones was one of many wizards who, while powerfully magical, had very little common sense. His lit wand made him a target.
 
“Avada Kedavra!” It was obvious that at least one Death Eater remained.
 
“Expeliarmus!” James yelled just in time. The spells seemed to turn each other aside, and to Sirius’ horror, James began to duel with the masked Death Eater.
 
He need not have worried. As soon as James missed a beat, the Death Eater Disapparated. The street fell silent but for the grateful cries of thanks that Brad and Sue lavished on James and, to a lesser extent, on Sirius.
 
“I knew he would come after us,” Sue explained tearfully. “We were fighting him, and we were prepared. But my brother-in-law and his wife got sick, and our niece is staying with us-- they’d never have left Susan alive-- I can’t believe they named her for me--” she broke off, shuddering.
 
“Is she still in the house?” asked James matter-of-factly. James never lost his head in a crisis. Sirius marveled at how calmly James entered the house, which so far as Sirius knew he had never entered before, and returned with a baby about Harry’s age.
 
“Susan!” Brad exclaimed, and took the child from James’ arms. He then resumed thanking James, who managed to usher the small party inside the house. He then used the fire to contact the Ministry and Dumbledore, and evenly answered questions and gave statements.
 
The sun was shining brightly by the time Sirius and James finally left the scene. “Want to come home with me for breakfast?” James offered.
 
“Please.” Sirius was famished, and would have invited himself had James not done so.
 
As soon as Sirius and James appeared before the Potters’ house, the front door flew open and Lily flung herself into James’ arms. “Are you all right?”
 
Waves of contrition washed over James’ face. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a message to you. We were coming back from the Ministry when--”
 
“I know, I know.” Lily waved off James’ explanations with another hug. “It was in the Daily Prophet. Accio!” The mentioned paper flew out the door of the house and into her hand. She began to unfold it and hand it to her husband, but midway through this simple task she paused and stared at him, as if once more memorizing a face that she surely had memorized long ago.
 
Sirius felt oddly like an intruder and was about to Disapparate and scrounge his breakfast elsewhere when Lily broke her trance and handed the paper to James. Then she hugged Sirius as well, to Sirius’ slight surprise. “Are you all right, too, Padfoot?” she murmured against his shoulder.
 
“Just fine. So’s James, really.”
 
“I know. I was just scared.”
 
Sirius had nothing to say to this confession. Lily had been right to be scared. He had been scared himself.
 
James broke the silence with his laughter.
 
“The Daily Prophet is accurate, as usual?” asked Sirius. The newspaper was well known to be a mouthpiece for the Ministry. Its stories seldom bore a striking resemblance to the facts. Defeats were downplayed, victories were exaggerated, and everything was simplified.
 
“No! This really is accurate, this is! I’m impressed.”
 
Lily had recovered enough from her shock to roll her eyes. Sirius grew ever more curious. “What?” he demanded. He had never dealt well with curiosity.
 
James threw the newspaper to his friend. “Read it out loud, Padfoot. Something this good needs to be read out loud. But come inside. That’s where the food is.”
 
Obediently, Sirius read as they trooped inside and set about getting breakfast.
 
“New Heroes and New Hope
 
“by Honor Inverse, Daily Prophet Staff Writer
 
“At long last, it appears that there is new hope in the war against You-Know-Who.
 
“The name ‘James Potter’ is not a new one to readers of the Daily Prophet, or of any publication that reports on the happenings of the temporarily-defunct Quidditch League. His prowess at the sport beloved by the wizarding world has been well-documented, but it seems that the other abilities which led to his appointment as Hogwarts Head Boy of 1978 have been overlooked. This shall no longer be the case.
 
“Early this morning, the handsome wizard performed a task heretofore thought to be impossible. He prevented the murder of Sue and Brad Bones, as well as their niece, Susan, after You-Know-Who had marked the family for death. No witch or wizard has ever survived after being targeted by You-Know-Who.
 
“Mr. Potter was taking a late night stroll-- he is surely an exceptionally brave man!-- when he overheard a gang of Death Eaters planning the attack on the Bones family. While he was concerned for his own safety, as he is father to a months-old child whom he wishes to see to maturity, he could not allow one more atrocity to occur within our small community. He Apparated to the scene of the would-be crime and warned the Bones of the impending attack. When the Death Eaters, and perhaps even their leader, appeared, Mr. Potter single-handedly dueled with them and drove them from the neighborhood.
 
“His heroic behavior without doubt comes as no surprise to his wife, Lily, who was Hogwarts Head Girl to his Head Boy. Mrs. Potter is now a fast-rising Ministry of Magic official while still finding time to rear the couple’s first child, Harry. This beautiful young family embodies the future of the magical world. Young, brave, and beautiful, the Potters bring intelligence and determination to the war effort.
 
“As long as there is breath in Mr. Potter’s attractive, athletic body, You-Know-Who will not achieve his goals.”
 
Sirius began to laugh as he finished reading. “Have you met this woman, Prongs?”
 
“Never.”
 
“I figured as much.”
 
James snickered as they sat down to their much-anticipated meal. “You’re just jealous that they didn’t mention you.”
 
“I’m not a Quidditch star. And an auror can’t be portrayed as a heroic vigilante. And I don’t have a beautiful wife and child. And Voldemort would want to know what I was up to if I were out there. He’d know someone sent me.”
 
“Whether that’s true or whether it’s not, you’re jealous.”
 
Sirius ignored his friend and began to eat. He went directly to work when he had finished, and by the time his shift ended he was truly exhausted. He returned to his flat and was barely able to lock the door and windows properly before falling asleep.
 
He awoke to the news that Voldemort had returned to kill Sue and Brad Bones, and had finished the job. The one bright spot in this depressing bit of information was the fact that young Susan had been returned to her parents, who were not especially high on Voldemort’s list of enemies, and had therefore lived. The Bones’ obituary took up less space than a new article about James, however. The wizarding world was hungry for heroes, and the war was hungry for a symbol. It seemed that James fit both bills.
 
July 31, 1981
 
“Are you leaving now, Pettigrew?”
 
“Yes, Sir, unless you need me to stay.”
 
Peter certainly hoped that his supervisor had no reason to keep him. His other supervisor would be greatly displeased if he failed to wish young Harry Potter a happy birthday.
 
“No, no, off you go. Do give my regards to Lily.”
 
“I will, Sir.” In spite of himself, Peter snickered mentally. Virtually every wizard in the Ministry had been known to cast an interested eye on the beautiful if very much married Lily from time to time. He had occasionally overheard them wondering why Lily, who was set to rise so swiftly through the ranks of the Ministry, spent so much time with that little Peter Pettigrew, who was kindly enough but unlikely to amount to overmuch. They were known to have graduated from the same Hogwarts house in the same year, but that hardly seemed reason enough for Lily to go out of her way to arrange her schedule to synchronize her meals and breaks with Peter’s. The Ministry, apparently, had never before had two employees who happened to be friends.
 
She isn’t your friend any longer, Peter reminded himself. Or rather, she is your friend, but you most certainly are not hers. You cannot afford to romanticize your relationship with her. You may have to turn on her. You will* probably* have to turn on her. Blast James for making such a big deal of himself, anyway!
 
James’ heroism had been a normal part of life since he and his friends had been eleven years old. It had always been a most wonderful thing to Peter. Peter had had the run of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in large part because no one would have dared to disturb one of the dearest friends of the magnificent James Potter. The Great James Potter could cast spells no one else could understand and break flying records thought unreachable. He was intimidated by nothing and no one. As long as James was a member of Gryffindor House, everyone somehow knew that the House would win the House Cup at the end of the year. James would always find a way. Furthermore, James would find a way without slipping into the gray areas of competition favored by the Slytherins. James never had to wonder about right and wrong; James instinctively knew what was right and did it.
 
As he had been a symbol of all that was good about Gryffindor, he was now a symbol of all that was good about Light Magic, Hogwarts, Dumbledore, the Ministry, the Good Fight, and the Worthy Cause. His face had been plastered across the front page of the Daily Prophet repeatedly since he had left off playing Quidditch and taken up doing Dumbledore’s bidding full time. Advertisements meant to recruit warriors of various sorts as well as financial support for the war also featured James, Lily, and Harry. “They’re giving all they can. Shouldn’t you?” one caption read. Another proclaimed “Light Magic has a future. It’s here,” and a third wondered “Aren’t they worth defending? They think you are.”
 
Peter was not surprised that James and Lily had allowed their likenesses to be used in a public relations campaign. They had long been willing to do anything to help Dumbledore, and while the advertisements were slightly embarrassing to the couple, they caused them no real harm. He was slightly surprised that they allowed Harry’s picture to be used—they were quite protective of their young son—but the wizarding community was so small that most everyone knew what Harry looked like in any case. Besides, the baby was not about to be left alone to get into any sort of trouble whether he was famous or not.
 
The public relations campaign had indeed had an effect on the way Peter thought about the war. He no longer worried that he had made the wrong decision. The advertisements featuring James were meant to convince Peter that, with heroes like this, there was still hope that You-Know-Who would not take over the entire wizarding world.
 
But Peter knew a secret.
 
James was not a hero.
 
James was a person.
 
James had cried when You-Know-Who had murdered his parents—parents whom he had been unable to protect. James had become anxious at the birth of his child, and had worried that Harry might be a squib. James had sometimes had trouble completing his homework, and had been forced to cheat from Sirius. James had lost his temper on more than one occasion. James had said careless, thoughtless things to his friends and his professors.
 
James was not perfect.
 
James could not single-handedly save the wizarding world.
 
Those who volunteered their time and money after hearing the exaggerated tales of James’ bravery wanted desperately to believe that there was hope for their old way of life. No one liked change. However, Peter was smart. Peter knew James. Peter knew that James was not the second coming of Dumbledore. Peter knew that James had flaws—and chief among these flaws was idealism. James was, first and foremost, and optimist. For example, when Sirius had nearly made a killer of Remus and gotten himself expelled from Hogwarts, James had instantly believed that Sirius would never do such a thing again. He still trusted Sirius above and beyond his other friends despite the fact that Sirius had shown himself capable of incredible betrayals. Remus, who was more logical and detached, obviously still had trouble trusting Sirius. He had told Peter as much. But to James, the incident was all but forgotten.
 
James, as smart as he was, did not understand that he was fighting a losing cause. Peter did.
 
If James would only keep a lower profile, I’d be able to help him, Peter lamented not for the first time as he left the Ministry offices on foot. He still had to pick up Harry’s present. Lily and James had decided that the outpouring of gifts on Christmas had been a bit excessive, and had forbidden those invited to Harry’s party to bring a gift this time. However, Lily had ordered a few trinkets for her son, and had asked Peter to collect this one. When You-Know-Who takes over and gives me power, I’m sure I’ll be able to say that my friends, my former friends, have seen the error of their ways and do not deserve to die.
 
But I can’t do that for James and his family if they make themselves the poster children for Dumbledore’s Cause. First Sirius, and now James. Remus might be the only one I can protect at all—hopefully, he isn’t too rude when he refuses the recruiters.
 
Unwillingly, Peter still felt the odd pang of guilt when he thought of Remus. Remus had come to him expecting someone he trusted, when he trusted so few people, and had unknowingly confessed to the devil, as he would have seen it. Remus had followed Peter’s advice to the letter and had hardly had any contact with the Potters or Sirius since the winter holidays.
 
Sirius will get suspicious sooner or later. Dumbledore knows he has a new leak. But I don’t think anyone thinks it’s me. Why would they? No one ever thinks of me right off.
 
Peter paid for Harry’s gift and tucked it carefully into a pocket of his robes, vaguely thanking the sales clerk.
 
I’ve not passed any truly important information. Just bits and pieces. My new friends in You-Know-Who’s movement are getting impatient, though.
 
At their most recent impromptu meeting, Peter had been threatened and even given his first taste of the Cruciatus Curse. It was not an experience he was eager to repeat.
 
They used to want Sirius, and now they want James. They say it’s like cutting the head off a snake. If James is giving people hope, they want to stamp out that hope. They want me to spend more time with him. That’s almost a silly request. I’ve always spent most of my free time with James. They want a report on Harry’s party. And they want me to drive a wedge through James’ relationship with everyone he loves.
 
It’ll be impossible to get between James and Lily. It’ll be just as bad getting between James and Sirius. But thank Merlin Remus never really got over that Snape incident!
 
While he had always known that he was not in the same league as James and Sirius academically (who was?), Peter had always been very intuitive. And his intuition told him that it would not take long for Sirius’ infamous paranoid temper to kick in and cause some sort of trouble in the little paradise the Potters and their friends were struggling to build.
 
 
Sirius was sitting in the front lawn earnestly discussing a stuffed unicorn with Harry. The discussion was, if one wanted to be technical, rather one-sided, but Harry did seem interested. Sirius looked up sharply when Peter appeared. His handsome face was all planes and angles in the slanting July sunlight. “Hi, Wormtail,” he called. Peter replied in kind, but Sirius seemed not to notice. The whole of his attention was directed at his godson. “Can you say ‘Wormtail?’” he queried. “Wormtail.” He pointed at Peter. “Wormtail.”
 
Harry looked at Peter with an almost amusing sort of seriousness, but he said nothing.
 
“I suppose three words are enough for him for now,” suggested Peter as we went to sit beside Sirius and Harry.
 
“Four,” corrected Sirius happily.
 
“Mama, Dada, and Paff, for Padfoot. What else?”
 
“Ba, for bottle.”
 
“Does that count?”
 
“YES!” answered Sirius with no small amount of anger. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE ARGUING OVER THINGS LIKE A SECOND SYLLABLE ON HIS BIRTHDAY!”
 
Peter was rather taken aback. You’ll wish you hadn’t been so quick to yell at me when the Dark Lord takes over, he thought, and instantly felt contrite. “Sorry,” he said aloud.
 
“Me, too. I shouldn’t have snapped.”
 
Glad he doesn’t know what I’m apologizing for. But as long as he’s not in the mood to yell again, I can probably get away with asking about Remus. “Is Moony here yet?”
 
Sirius’ face darkened so slightly that Peter would have missed it had he not been looking carefully. “Not yet. I’m not entirely sure he’s coming at all.”
 
“Lily said he was.”
 
“What else would he tell her? ‘I don’t care about you or James or your son’s birthday?’”
 
Oh, Padfoot, you are nothing if not predictable. “Why wouldn’t he care about Harry’s birthday? He adores Harry. Everyone does.” Including me. Hard not to like the little bugger even if he can’t say “Wormtail.”
 
“How often have you seen him since the new year?”
 
Dozens of times. Talks to me when he can’t talk to you, doesn’t he? “Well, he was at Harry’s baptism.”
 
“Six months ago!”
 
“Last full moon.”
 
“How many full moons out of seven so far this year? Two? Three? And he was distant well before that. I think it’s been almost a year since he’s been normal.”
 
“He’s never been normal,” said Peter with what he hoped sounded like forced lightness.
 
“Normal for him. Do you even know where he’s working?”
 
“For Dumbledore, of course.”
 
“Other than that.”
 
“Perhaps he’s gone full time to Dumbledore, like James.”
 
“He hasn’t officially. His name isn’t on the payroll. And before you say James isn’t either, James has inherited all the money in the world already, and there’s Lily’s salary.”
 
“It might be that Moony can’t say where he’s been and Dumbledore doesn’t want it known. Moony keeps secrets very well. That’s probably why Dumbledore trusts him with whatever this is.” Now Peter tried to sound admiring. Sirius’ brow furrowed. Do I know Sirius or do I know Sirius?
 
The front door opened then, and Lily and James wandered outside and greeted Peter. “Is it party time?” asked Sirius.
 
“Remus isn’t here,” Lily answered.
 
“I’m not so certain he’s coming.”
 
“I am.”
 
“He’s hardly been around at all lately,” Sirius protested.
 
“Which is why he’ll be here today,” Lily said firmly.
 
Sirius snorted, but whatever he had to say about Remus was pushed to the side by the werewolf’s arrival. James, Lily, and Peter called out their greetings. Sirius did not. Lily shot her son’s godfather an annoyed look but concerned herself with Harry. “Say ‘Hi, Moony,’” she encouraged. “Can you say ‘Moony?’”
 
“He can’t. We went through this with Wormtail,” Sirius scowled.
 
“Moony,” Lily repeated deliberately.
 
“Moony,” said Harry.
 
Most of the adults erupted in cheers. Harry looked very pleased with himself, and out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see that Remus was fairly glowing. Harry had just made Remus’ day, if not his year.
 
“Who’s that?” James prompted his son. James’ face was also alight with happiness.
 
“Moony!” Harry repeated more confidently.
 
“That’s number five,” James declared. He could have been no more proud had Harry just single-handedly defeated the Dark Lord.
 
“What was number four?” asked Remus curiously, still looking deliriously flattered.
 
“Haven’t been around much, have you?” asked Sirius. Remus was obviously taken aback.
 
“What’s the matter with you, Padfoot?” James half-snapped.
 
“Nothing.” Sirius did his best to look innocent. “It was just an observation.”
 
“Here, Moony,” Lily interrupted. “Since Harry has become so fond of you, you may carry him inside.”
 
Peter wondered if he was imagining the fury on Sirius’ face. Sirius is possessive of Harry, but this is a bit much unless he’s really getting to hate Remus. I hope this isn’t just wishful thinking.
 
As Remus took Harry into the kitchen, where a cake shaped like a Golden Snitch awaited him, Sirius jerked Peter aside roughly. “Did you see that?” Sirius snarled.
 
“What?”
 
“Remus!” said Sirius in a tone that most people reserved for slow, backward children. “I can’t believe he had the nerve to come in here and pick Harry up like that! Like everything’s normal.”
 
“Lily did ask Remus to pick him up.” Sound like you’re defending Moony. Good, Peter.
 
“I can’t imagine what she was thinking. Harry barely even knows Remus.”
 
“He said his name.” Just push Sirius a little further.
 
“Remus probably bewitched him or something. I should go check for hex marks.” Sirius was unable to say more because Lily circled back to see what was keeping him and Peter.
 
“We’re coming,” Peter assured her. “Just slowly. Hey—” He paused as if thinking.
 
“What?” Lily’s curiosity had never been a difficult thing to arouse.
 
“That baby book you and James had, the one with the milestones in it, didn’t it say a baby should be afraid of strangers by Harry’s age?”
 
“So?”
 
“Well, Harry doesn’t seem to mind having Moony carry him around—”
 
“Remus is not a stranger, even if he isn’t around here all the time like the two of you are. Now come help Harry eat his cake.” Sirius stalked into the kitchen without another word. He still looked rather angry.
 
What all of Sirius’ friends understood, and Sirius did not, was that the war was taking a toll on him in a fairly unique way. Sirius was sociable in nature and relished attention of any kind. Hogwarts had been a safe haven, where interaction with others was not only possible but encouraged. Sirius had, for the most part, thrived. However, the rest of the wizarding world had been taken over by paranoia years before. One trusted one’s family and, if one was lucky, one had a friend or two to trust. Sirius’ family was dead, but he was very lucky when it came to friends. He had enough interaction with others to sustain his extroverted personality. Now, Remus had removed himself from Sirius’ small collection of companions and Sirius was feeling the loss terribly. He could not articulate this feeling; he had never been an introspective man. So he simply felt an irrational hatred for Remus.
 
Or so Peter suspected. He did not especially care about Sirius’ motivation as long as Sirius and Remus kept each other distracted and did not focus their attention on their other friend before the Dark Lord had a chance to complete his work.
 
The celebration of Harry’s birthday went smoothly. The group was not interrupted and Sirius managed to hold his tongue when it came to Remus. Peter suspected that the brief reprimand from James had put Sirius on his guard. Sirius was terribly possessive of and worried about James, and if James wanted Sirius to treat Remus with something like respect, then Sirius would grit his teeth and do it.
 
Peter spent much of the afternoon, which stretched into late evening, attempting to have a private conversation with Remus. Remus had to be encouraged to continue to avoid Sirius if Peter’s plan was to work. Sirius and Remus were both too intelligent, and too deeply fond of one another, to continue their private war if they realized that, in truth, they had no anger toward one another. Impulsive, attention-loving Padfoot and laid-back, clever Moony were much stronger together than apart.
 
Together, thought Peter with a twinge of paranoia, they might discover that I’m not exactly what I seem. James is safe—James is busy with Lily and Harry, and besides, he never wants to believe that anyone could hurt anyone. But Sirius has seen a great deal already in this war. He knows better. Remus has been styled an outcast for something over which he has no control. He knows better, too.
 
 The object of Peter’s thoughts now approached with a smile. “I believe we’re being kicked out, Wormtail,” he said.
 
“You are not being kicked out!” Lily snapped playfully in the background.
 
“We all have work tomorrow. It’s better to leave,” Sirius stated pointedly. He wants to leave, too? Spending time with Moony bothers him that much?
 
“Moony? Can I stop by your flat on the way home? I want to check something in that vampire book you have,” Peter whispered so that Sirius could not hear.
 
Remus, of course, instantly agreed, and as he Disapparated from the Potters’ front yard, Peter tried desperately to invent a reason for needing the book. I was just curious—came across an old case at work the other day, no, he’ll want details—I overheard, no, that doesn’t make much sense—I thought I saw something else by the author—why wouldn’t I have just asked him? He must know who wrote it.
 
“Thanks, Moony,” he said as Remus matter-of-factly handed him the book. “I was at work the other day—there was this old file—the witch who used to have my job, well—” That the best you can do, Peter?
 
Luckily, Remus waved him off as if it did not especially matter why Peter wanted to see the book. Which it wouldn’t, I suppose. Remus then offered Peter a drink, and Peter of course accepted, and they briefly discussed Harry. He doesn’t suspect a thing. I should just go ahead and ask him. I’m the caring, concerned friend, right? “Are you all right?” Peter asked bluntly.
 
Remus looked mildly surprised. “Fine.”
 
One-word answer. Not helpful. “I mean, I think Sirius was a bit harsh on you today.”
 
“Sirius is Sirius.”
 
Up to three words. An improvement, but we still need more. “Still, he did accuse you of hexing Harry to get him to say your name. That’s a serious—”
 
“He said that?”
 
Whoops. You didn’t know that, did you? “I’m sorry—”
 
“Don’t be sorry. I’m sure he said it, but he says things like that. He doesn’t mean them. We both know that.”
 
“It doesn’t make the situation any more pleasant for you if he doesn’t mean them. No one can expect you to enjoy seeing your friend whom you hardly ever see and having him act like he’d rather you weren’t there.”
 
Remus sighed deeply. Jackpot. Score one for Wormtail. “No, I don’t enjoy it, but what can I do? It’s for the best, anyway. I don’t want him to be threatened for being my friend. Nor do I want you threatened for being my friend. And I’d rather keep my mouth shut and have him suspect Death Eaters are talking to me than open my mouth and prove it.”
 
Peter nodded solemnly. “I’m not worried about being threatened over you.” See to it that you don’t figure out why, please. “So if you ever want to talk about it, owl me or something.” And no one else but me.
 
Remus thanked him.
 
Remus would not be a problem.
 
I’m sorry, Moony. But when the Dark Lord takes over, I’ll do my best to make it up to you. I promise.