Darkness Dying

October 13, 1981

Sirius had been protective of Harry since the day of his birth, but his desire to shield his godson from all harm increased tenfold during the months immediately following his first birthday. On the first of August, Dumbledore had appeared in James’ fire and informed him that he had received some disturbing news earlier in the week. He had not wanted to break the news to James and Lily while they were celebrating Harry’s birthday; in fact, he did not want to break the news to them over the connection. James had called Sirius straight away, and though Sirius had just finished working a double-shift-- which was now a typical shift-- he had Apparated to the Potters’ house to watch Harry while they visited Dumbledore.

James and Lily had returned grim-faced and bearing the news that Voldemort had at last become so infuriated by James’ well-publicized actions on behalf of Light Magic that he had mentioned the family during several of his most recent meetings. Dumbledore had encouraged Lily and James to take precautions over and above those usually taken by witches and wizards living in such troubled times.

Obediently, the Potters had added extra wards to their home and began to live almost as if imprisoned. James and Lily, who were completely absorbed in one another, did not especially mind the added restrictions placed on their behavior. More important were the mountains of paperwork through which they waded. Sirius, as James’ longtime best friend, had already been declared Harry’s godfather in the honorary sense. Now legal work was adjusted to make Sirius Harry’s official next-of-kin. Peter was written in as second-of-kin, and James hissed under his breath that this was the first time in his life that he had cared about Remus’ lycanthropic nature. No judge would ever allow custody of a small child to revert to a registered werewolf, and Lily had no surviving friends whom she felt she could ask to step in as potential guardians for Harry.

A few months had passed as if almost nothing had changed. And then, on the day of the October full moon, Dumbledore had asked to see James and Lily again. He had not needed to tell them the reason. As soon as they saw him, they knew. Voldemort had made plans to kill them, and, as all the world knew, no one had ever survived once Voldemort had decided to murder them.

Lily had been called to the Ministry for an emergency, and James, frantic and not wanting to be alone, had once again called Sirius to his side. "You call, I come," Sirius declared with forced levity upon arriving.

"It’s not as if it’s a surprise," James began nervously without even acknowledging Sirius’ greeting. "We’ve known for over a year that someone close to Dumbledore has been passing information. We knew that if one of us ended up on the killing list, we wouldn’t have a chance."

"You have more than a chance, James!" Sirius interrupted restlessly. "We’ve never gone with the trend before, and we won’t now. You aren’t alone in this. I will die before I let anything happen to you or Lily or Harry!"

"If Voldemort can be defeated by sheer force of will, I guess I have nothing to worry about," said James, forcing a chuckle of his own.

"We’ve never lost yet, and I don’t intend to start now."

James nodded, and gulped, and seemed to settle down infinitesimally. "I’m so glad you’re here."

Sirius was slightly embarrassed at the outward display of affection. "We’ll get through this," he repeated.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, right?"

Sirius winced. "We might want to cut that down a bit."

"What?" The look of confusion that crossed James’ face was almost laughable.

"We don’t know where the information is leaking," Sirius explained almost hesitantly. James’ life was in danger, and nothing else was important. Sirius could not afford to give Remus the benefit of the doubt when it came to his recent conspicuous absences.

"It’s not from any of us!"

Sirius paced the length of the room, looking anxious. "Think about it," he said. "Remus is a werewolf. A naturally Dark creature, not to sound prejudiced."

"Which you do," snarled James, who was rapidly growing angry.

Sirius ignored the interruption. "Fine." He held up his hand and began to tick off points on his fingers. "But the fact remains that Remus will always have trouble finding paid work because of what he is. The fact remains the Voldemort would like a werewolf or two in his ranks. The fact remains that Remus was top of our class-- one of the best classes that ever got through Hogwarts-- I mean, we’re legendary-- in Defense Against the Dark Arts. And if you can defend them, you can do them. I’d recruit Remus if I were going to build a Dark Army. He’d be the first one I’d recruit."

"Hey!" injected James, trying to sound humorous and insulted although he was almost in tears and they both knew it.

Sirius shook his head. "You’re a family man. I don’t want someone with a wife and a baby in my army. I want Remus, who’s got hardly any connections to the Light Magical world because the Light Magical world won’t have him. And I can hardly blame him. He’s got nothing. If you were Remus, wouldn’t you be working for Voldemort?"

"NO! If I were Remus, I would know how much my friend James cared for me and how he was willing to die for me, and I wouldn’t think I had nothing! I wouldn’t sell my friend and his wife and his one-year-old child to Voldemort!"

"YOU CAN’T AFORD TO LOOK AT THE WORLD THROUGH ROSE-COLORED GLASSES RIGHT NOW, JAMES!" Sirius screamed. "YOU HAVE TO THINK ABOUT THIS!"

"NO, I DON’T! I WON’T, AND I CAN’T! I CAN’T THINK THAT ONE OF MY FRIENDS WOULD JUST KILL ME, I CAN’T, SIRIUS!" And the tears had at last spilled down James’ cheeks. He removed his glasses and swiped at his eyes in annoyance. "I WON’T THINK THAT!" He turned his back to Sirius. "I CAN’T HANDLE IT. YOU’RE SO SMART, YOU HANDLE IT!"

Sirius briefly stood in shock. He had not seen James cry since his parents’ deaths. This brought the total number of incidents involving tears to two in a full lifetime of friendship. Then he crossed the room to put his hand on James’ shoulder. "I’m sorry," he said.

"You’re crackers," said James, still trying to suppress the tremors that racked his thin frame. "Remus would never do that."

"No," Sirius agreed. Yes, James. I’ll handle it. Take whatever peace of mind you can from my lying. "Remus would never do that."

"No."

"Of course not." Sirius paused uncomfortably. "Do you want me to come with you to see Dumbledore?"

James shook his head. "Lily’s coming. She’ll be here in a minute."

"Less than a minute, actually," came Lily’s voice from the front of the house. "Ready, James?"

"Ready. Wait, the cloak is still upstairs. Accio!" The cloak and Lily entered the room at the same time. The cloak flew straight into James’ hand, but Lily stopped and stared at her husband.

"James? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." Lily raised an eyebrow in disbelief but did not force the situation right away. James decided to elaborate of his own accord. "Sirius was just indulging in a paranoid flight of fancy."

"Really, Sirius?" asked Lily.

Sirius wondered what he could say to that. It isn’t paranoia if it’s true would have upset James again, and only the paranoid survive would be in bad taste just now. "If that’s what James says," he finally said aloud.

"And it is!" James declared. "Want to know what he said, Lily? It’s worth a laugh." He forged on without waiting for an answer. "He said he thinks Remus is the sellout. Remus!"

Lily favored Sirius with a very dirty look. "Have you been sleeping enough lately?" she asked her friend. "Sometimes people suffering from sleep deprivation think strange things."

"I sleep as much as anyone else does."

"Which is not at all," completed Lily. "Point proven. Do you want to stay here for a while instead of going back to work? Owl Frank and tell him that you can’t work extra hours today because you have to baby-sit your godson?"

"I thought you were taking him with you."

"We were, but we don’t need to. It might be better for all concerned if you and he stayed here and took a nap together."

"I can’t take time off like that."

"It’s not time off. It’s failure to work overtime. I know everyone has been working all hours, but you still deserve a break. And once we go into hiding, who knows how long it will be before you see Harry again?"

This last bit of blatant emotional manipulation had its intended effect on Sirius. He nodded. "I’ll watch Harry and owl Frank."

"Thank you," said Lily with a charming smile. "Come on, James." She drew him to her gently, and they walked to the door together. "Oh, Sirius," Lily called over her shoulder. "Not only is Remus too ethical and too compassionate and too loving to turn Dark, he’s much too smart. He knows what would happen if Voldemort wins at least as well as the rest of us do."

"Goodbye, Lily!" Sirius answered, not caring that he sounded slightly rude. When he had watched Lily and James Apparate away, he grabbed James’ owl and sent Frank a note stating that he would be unable to work extra hours until the next day. He then stormed into the room where Harry was contentedly seated in his playpen with a small fraction of his almost embarrassing collection of toys.

Sirius scooped Harry up. "Paff-fooh!" Harry cried gleefully, and Sirius’ heart melted.

"Hi, Harry. I seem to have argued you out of a trip to Hogwarts. Are you upset with me?" Harry did not look in the least upset. "Thanks," said Sirius with some relief as he walked the baby back into the main room of the house. "It’s good to see that you’re more reasonable than your stupid, bloody git of a father." Sirius had kept his tone light and conversational, and he knew that it would be years before Harry mastered enough of the English language to know when his father, or anyone else, was being insulted. Nonetheless, he felt the need to apologize. "I don’t mean it the way it sounds. I love your father-- I’d never tell him, but I do. Bastard probably knows, anyway. He’s been my best friend since we could talk. It’s like we’re brothers. As if that git and I could ever be related--" he broke off and cocked his head at Harry, who looked as if he was listening intently. "Brotherly love. It’s a rare and beautiful thing, you know." A ghost of a smile flickered across his handsome features.

Suddenly realizing that he was nearly as tired as Lily had claimed, Sirius decided that it would be a good idea to sit down, and lowered himself to the floor. Harry toddled a few steps to a ball which had been lying abandoned before a chair. He rolled it unsteadily toward Sirius. "Shall we play before we nap?" He reached over to guide Harry into a steadier position and then rolled the ball back toward his godson. "Your mother suggested that we take a nap, you know. Were you listening? I think it was me she was ordering about more than you, though. She thinks I put myself in too much danger and don’t take good enough care of myself." He sighed deeply. "But she’s the one in danger. She and you and your father. Now, don’t worry-- I’ve told you before that I’d never let anything happen to you. And I wouldn’t."

Not if I can help it. Oh, who is Harry going to repeat this to?May as well be honest. "Not if I can help it. Sometimes I’m so afraid that I can’t help it. We . . . we aren’t doing so well in this war, Harry. We aren’t winning. Every so often we capture or kill a few Death Eaters, but that’s pittance compared to what they’re doing to us. And it’s something we’ve all learned to live with. We’re careful. We don’t talk to people we don’t know or go somewhere unfamiliar without someone we trust. We know all the right things to say when someone else we know-- someone who might have been a friend if making friends was a safe thing to do-- loses a parent, or a fiancé, or a brother. It happens almost every day. It’s happened almost every day since we were in school.

"And we deal with it. But if it . . . if it was James . . . I’d just lose it if it was your father, Harry." Tears were burning at the back of Sirius’ eyes, but he ignored them. He was too worn to cry, even if he had wanted to, which he did not. It was different for James. James was the one in danger of not seeing his assorted wedding anniversaries, of not seeing his son grow to adulthood. "I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t there. And I have no desire to experience that. I can’t even imagine that. This makes everything else seem trivial. I have no right to be tired, or lonely . . . does it scare you that you’re more mature than your godfather?

"I’m so scared. Just scared. There’s no other way to think about it. I don’t know what to do." He rolled the ball back to Harry gently and traced its short trajectory with his eyes. "I don’t know what to do, so I’m talking to you." He smiled an odd smile that was not at all like the open expressions his face usually wore. "Thank you for listening." He reached over to touch Harry’s face so that the baby was looking at him. "I want you to remember this. I promise that no matter what happens, when you grow up, you can always come talk to me. Always. About anything. Even if-- especially if all you need to do is talk. Anytime. Anywhere. As long as and as often as you want."

Sirius had just finished his promise (he was slightly chagrined to note that Harry gave no sign of understanding him and made a mental note to repeat himself when Harry had learned more than five words) when an owl arrived at the window and hooted indignantly upon finding said window protected by dozens of spells.

Sirius jumped up warily. Only an exceptionally smart owl could get so near the Potters’ house, and no one was likely to send an owl to a family so high on Voldemort’s hit list as the Potters without good reason. Cautiously, keeping himself in a dueling stance, he removed the spells one by one and pulled the letter inside without the owl, which screeched in protest.

Sirius--

Come outside. I need to speak to you for a moment.

--Frank

Sirius blinked, and rolled his eyes at himself as he realized that the owl was James’ own, returning from messaging Frank. It must not have made any other deliveries since James and Lily had added the new spells. He allowed the extremely annoyed owl entrance and replaced the spells on the window before picking up Harry and casting a magnifying charm on the front door. He could see Frank standing in the street out of the range of the powerful wards that surrounded the house. Frank was non-threatening enough, Sirius assumed, especially because he was holding his own young son in his arms. Neville was Frank’s pride and joy. The auror never went a day without discussing his son and lamenting the fact that they spent so little time together. Frank would never have brought Neville outside if he was not certain that the area was completely safe, at least for the moment.

"Want to come say hello to Neville?" Sirius asked Harry.

Harry did not protest, and Sirius took that as a ‘yes.’ He carried Harry outside and went to meet Frank. "Hello, Frank!" he called out. "Why didn’t the all-mighty auror just take the wards down and come to the door?"

"Because if I’ve taught you a damn thing, you’d panic if someone knocked on the door unexpectedly. Besides, I hate to destroy another wizard’s work, and I understand that these wards were quite the committee effort."

Sirius nodded and turned his attention to Harry. "Say ‘hi’ to Neville," he suggested. He took Harry’s arm in his hand and helped his godson to wave. Frank, smiling slightly, did the same with his own son.

"You’re going to be roommates at Hogwarts one day. You’d best make friends now," Frank informed Neville, who, with his round face and fine hair, was nearly as endearing as Harry.

"Neville’s going to be a Gryffindor, too?" asked Sirius teasingly.

Frank nodded. "Runs in the family. I just hope he doesn’t have too much reason to display his bravery." Sirius knew exactly how Frank felt.

Harry, meanwhile, extended a curious arm toward the other baby, and Neville followed suit so that their fingers just brushed. Frank tore his eyes from the sight with the look of longing his face always wore when he thought of his son. "I didn’t come here just so Neville could make friends, unfortunately."

"What happened?" asked Sirius with building dread.

"You can have the time you asked for today, but tomorrow you have to do my job for a few hours. I wanted to give you the instructions in person."

Sirius knew better than to ask Frank why he would be absent from his regular duties if Frank did no volunteer the information. Instead, he listened to the directions in silence and carefully committed them to memory. Frank waited for Sirius and Harry to return to the house before vanishing.

"Your nap has been delayed long enough," Sirius told Harry firmly. "And I will apparently be personally responsible for who knows how many lives tomorrow. And I want to check on Moony tonight, invited or not. So, do you want to stay here with me or go back to your crib? Here? Good. That’s what I was thinking, too." He snapped one of his favorite spells at the couch to transfigure it into a bed and lay down, resting Harry carefully on his chest. Harry squirmed. "Time to go to sleep," Sirius informed him, and was startled to hear his words slurring. He was aware of Harry’s warm weight settling against him before he lost consciousness altogether.

Sirius was shaken awake several hours later by James. James still looked worn and stressed, but he was forcing a smile. "You look so sweet together," he said, his voice tinged with playful sarcasm. "This is heartwarming, this is. I hope you remember how to transfigure that back."

Sirius meant to make a snide reply, but instead he yawned. As awareness reasserted itself, a heavy, frightened feeling began to constrict his chest. He quickly handed Harry to James, as if the baby himself, not the knowledge that the baby’s family was in grave danger, was the cause of his discomfort. "How did it go?"

James’ face tightened further, if such a thing were possible. "Dumbledore’s information comes from his most useful spy. Voldemort definitely wants me dead. He might back off of Lily if she distanced herself from me, because her work isn’t as close to the front lines as mine, but of course she wouldn’t hear of doing that. Dumbledore just mentioned it, didn’t even suggest it, because he knew how she’d be." James visibly made an effort to steady himself, and Sirius took this opportunity to return the couch to its natural form. "Dumbledore says our best chance is a Fidelius Charm. You know what that is?"

"Magical concealment of a secret inside a living soul."

"Ten to Gryffindor. Yes, that’s right. Dumbledore offered to do it."

Sirius’ eyes widened. An offer like that from the most powerful wizard in the world was not a thing to be taken lightly. "You’ll be safe, then. Dumbledore would never tell Voldemort where you were."

James shook his head. "I don’t know how to say this. I told him no."

"What? Are you mad?"

"No. Not mad. It’s what we were talking about before Lily and I left." James gestured behind himself, and only then did Sirius notice that Lily had entered the room as well. "It’s always been you, for my entire life, Sirius. I know he’s the greatest wizard of our time, but I’d feel much safer if you were the one to cast the charm. Will you?" An intense vulnerability entered James’ face, and Sirius knew that he could only give one answer.

"If it’s what you want, you know I will, Prongs. I’ll go into hiding myself, and I’ll die before I do anything that would hurt you or Lily or Harry."

James relaxed visibly, and even managed a smile that hit his eyes. "Brilliant. I told Dumbledore you would. I told him you’d do all that."

"But he still isn’t in favor of the idea."

James glanced at Lily. "No, he’s not," Lily answered. "He volunteered to be the Secret-Keeper after James said he wanted you."

"But he just hasn’t gotten past that thing with Remus and Snape!" James broke in. "That must be it. It was a one-time thing and years ago, but Dumbledore has a long memory. I insisted, though. You’re the one I trust with Lily and Harry."

"And you’re the one I trust with James," added Lily softly. James put the arm that was not holding his son around his wife.

"Are you certain, Lily?" asked Sirius with as much detachment as he could muster, which was not much. "Before you left, you were questioning my judgment, and you may have been right." Sirius was inwardly annoyed with himself for almost hoping that Lily would change her mind. He did not want the responsibility of this picture-perfect family’s lives in his hands. Nor did he want it in anyone else’s hands. He simply wanted James, Lily, and Harry to be safe.

Lily’s voice was fraught with conviction. "I may not think every idea you’ve ever had has been a good one, but I know you would do anything to keep James from getting hurt. I know he’d do the same for you. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about him-- how devoted he is to you. And," she paused, glancing warily at James, "I think that Dumbledore’s concerns are groundless. You know that someone’s been passing information since the Rally of Light last year."

"Yes," agreed Sirius.

"Someone almost interrupted Harry’s birthday party. There happened to be hit wizards in the area so we didn’t know for a few days. And when James came to see me at the Ministry the other day-- there was another incident."

"Incident?"

"We were very glad for our dueling lessons," said James dryly.

"This happened when?"

"Two days ago."

"And you’re telling me when?"

"We’re telling you now. We didn’t want you to worry, Padfoot. I know how I feel every time you’re in the middle of some takedown, and I wanted to put that off for you."

Before Sirius could protest, Lily took up from her husband. "The point is, someone has been giving the Death Eaters very specific information about James and me. Dumbledore doesn’t know if it’s the same person who’s been passing pieces of Ministry information for a year or not, but he does know that it’s someone close to us. That’s why he doubts you. And that’s why we want you."

"We know it’s a lot to ask, and you’re allowed to change your mind and say ‘no’--" James began.

Any other arguments Sirius might have made rapidly dispersed. James would to the same for me.How I feel about this doesn’t matter. It’s how James and Lily feel that does. "Of course I’ll do it. I’d be honored to do it," he repeated. "But I still think you should take Dumbledore up--"

James shook his head in interruption. "No," he said simply.

"Right, then. How soon does this have to happen?"

"Ten days, two weeks, something along those lines. We have to have time to choose our hiding place, and get ready to move there. Lily has to wrap up her job except for remote work. She can’t work in the Ministry offices anymore. It isn’t safe. And you have to . . ." James trailed off.

"I have to quit active duty and get ready to hide myself." James nodded stiffly. "It’s really all right, Prongs. It’s going to be all right," Sirius said in a near-whisper.

"Thanks," said James in a similar tone. He tightened his grips on Lily and Harry. Sirius decided that he had best leave the family alone for the moment.

"You know how to find me when you’re ready to talk about details."

"Are you leaving?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes. I want to check on Moony. And I want to make certain I’m ready for work tomorrow. Frank won’t be there."

Lily opened her mouth as if to say something, but shut it quickly. Sirius smiled, suspecting that he could guess what she was about to say. "I’ll be nice to Remus."

"Good," she said, and detached herself from James in order to hug Sirius. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

"You’re more than welcome," he whispered back.

"You do know that it isn’t Remus?"

"Are you saying it’s Peter?"

"I’m not saying it’s anyone."

No wonder they got married, thought Sirius as he released Lily, spared a final glance for James, and headed outside the spells to Disapparate. They think the same way.

He realized that he had been asleep for longer than he had thought, and that it was nearly time for the moon to rise, so he Disapparated directly to Remus’ flat.

"It’s me, Moony!" he yelled as soon as he arrived.

"Sirius?" Remus bounded into view, looking half-sick and entirely anxious. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"Within ten minutes you aren’t going to be able to see me, at least not in this form."

Sirius forced his face to mold itself into a smile. "Luckily, I can change my form as well." And I hope you remember why that is, you traitorous--

"I know," Remus said, and he did look slightly pained, so Sirius counted himself victorious. "You want to come with me tonight, then?"

"Yes. Where are you going?"

"The manor. Same as always."

"Always?" queried Sirius. "What about six months ago?"

Remus had always hidden his emotions well, and it was only because of a decade of friendship that Sirius was able to see the mix of betrayal, worry, annoyance, offense, fear, and confusion in the werewolf. "Have you been spying on me?" he asked lightly.

"I was checking on you. As I am doing tonight."

"I’m really quite capable of taking care of myself, Padfoot."

"I’ve heard that before, and I must say it’s not always been true--"

"Why are you really here?" Remus did not raise his voice. He almost never raised his voice. No, Remus had to be the perfect, refined gentleman that no one would ever suspect of being a bloodthirsty monster with no conscience.

By contrast, Sirius’ already-strained temper began to rise. "I wanted to see you," he snarled.

"You’ve seen me. Unfortunately, I have to leave now." Remus Disapparated with a pop. Sirius briefly considered searching his friend’s flat, but decided that Remus was far too clever to leave any useful information lying around. Sirius suspected that Death Eaters, like aurors, seldom put anything in writing.

And so, Sirius followed Remus. As promised, Remus was inside the shed on the manor’s grounds. The noises of the transformation quickly reached Sirius’ ears. A moan, a shriek, a howl.

He always tries so hard not to scream, Sirius recalled regretfully. It’s awful, lycanthropy, and it’s worse the way most of the world treats people like Remus. He laughed at himself. As if there is anyone else like Remus. He’s one of a kind, as much as James is, as much as Peter is. I remember promising to do anything to make him feel better. I never thought that would include letting him kill James. And it doesn’t.

But I get attached. I’m attached to Moony forever.

Sirius had always liked to view situations in terms of black and white, but it was difficult to hate someone who was in so much pain for reasons entirely beyond his control-- particularly because that someone had never given a sign that he was anything but devoted to Sirius, and, more importantly, to Lily, Harry, Peter, and James.

A mournful howl split the air. Sirius rolled his eyes skyward and completed his own swift, painless transformation before raising a paw to the door and unfastening its latch.

The wolf bounded past him, still howling furiously, and Padfoot was forced to use all of his energy to catch up. The wolf, he knew, was prone to be in a sour mood if Remus was in a sour mood. And if Remus wasn’t in a bad mood already, I’ve certainly put him in one. So I can’t very well let him destroy the nearest town.

Not that I would, anyway.

No matter which form you take, Moony.

Padfoot gathered himself into a powerful leap and jumped atop Moony, dragging him to the ground. Moony, with a growl of rage, rolled out from under his attacker.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have let him out without Prongs here to help. Of course, if Moony did get caught, the Ministry would take care of him faster than you can say Avada Kedavra-- WHAT AM I THINKING?

Furious with himself, Padfoot bounded forward and leapt before Moony. He lowered himself to the ground and used his nose to give Moony a submissive nudge beneath the chin. Moony stopped, confused, and gave Padfoot an appraising look. Padfoot did his best to look harmless, a worthy opponent, and Sirius-like all at once. He barked, and a bit of understanding came into Moony’s eyes. Remus was asserting himself.

Good, Remus.

Then the wolf pounced but he was not trying to hurt Padfoot. Werewolves were only a danger to people, not to animals; nonetheless, they had long, sharp claws and powerful jaws. A game to a wolf was deadly business to one who was not careful. Thus, Padfoot was ready for the pounce. He crouched low, and when he felt the wolf’s nails and paws, he wrenched himself up and shook the wolf from his back.

Take that! I’ll throw you off of James’ trail just as easily.

Moony looked angry. Like Padfoot, he was now spoiling for a fight. He lunged forward, and Padfoot sidestepped. They circled one another warily.

You won’t get the better of me. You won’t! You can’t have James, and you can’t have Light Magic, and no matter how bad things look, I will resist you until I lie choking on my own blood.

As if reading the dog’s thoughts, Moony lunged for his rival’s throat. For a fraction of a second, he held on.

How dare you? How dare you, Moony! I was your friend! We were all your friends! How could you mean everything to me and I mean nothing to you? How dare you!

He shook the wolf off, and they rose onto hind legs, snapping at each other’s throats, clawing at each other’s hackles.

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you! You have no right to do this. No right and no reason. We promised to protect teach other. Fight to the death side-by-side. How could you? I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you! Except that I don’t, even though you have NO RIGHT!

They fell to the ground and rolled over and over with neither getting the upper hand in the wrestling match.

How could you? To James? To Lily? To Harry? He’s a baby, Moony, just a year old! Have you forgotten holding him on the day he was born? Have you forgotten him saying your name on his first birthday? He’s a baby! Give him a chance to live! Just a chance! Him and Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones and all those children who Peter says are locked up in safehouses and don’t know what the sun looks like.

The wolf’s powerful hind legs battered the dog.

Why are you hurting me? Why? I’d never hurt you like this.

The dog rolled the wolf over and gave him a taste of his own medicine.

I hate you.

They rolled over again.

Why?

They reached the edge of an embankment and began to scramble for footing.

When did things get to be so complicated?

Footing regained, the battle began anew.

There’s nothing quite so exhilarating as battling a werewolf. Is that why I thought I liked you? Because being a dangerous, bloodthirsty, Dark creature is *cool*?

Padfoot snapped at Moony’s throat and just missed grabbing hold.

That’s not it. We were friends before. We were friends after. From the first and to the last, right? It was a good plan. Why did you change it? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!

With every snarl, Padfoot said to Moony what Sirius could not say to Remus. The battle became less vicious as the night wore on, but it never completely stopped until a whimper escaped Moony in mid-tangle. Confused, the wolf looked up at the moon, which was setting. Padfoot, registering the meaning of this event on a more intellectual level than Moony could, attempted to nudge the wolf back toward the shed. Had he been paying more attention, he would have begun subtly guiding Moony in the correct direction long ago. Luckily, though, the wolf was both mentally confused and physically drained and was willing to allow the great dog to choose his direction.

Moony began to whine and shudder almost before they entered the shed. He collapsed to the floor as Padfoot maneuvered the door shut. By the time Padfoot turned around, the transformation was almost complete.

Sirius, too, resumed his human form.

"Remus? Can you hear me?"

"Yes," muttered Remus. He reached for his robes, and pulled them haphazardly over his head.

"Your wand, Mr. Moony."

"Thank you, Mr. Padfoot. Shall we?"

"We shall." Sirius reached forward as if to Apparate Remus, but Remus shrugged away.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Let me do it."

"No." And without further negotiation, Remus vanished. Sirius followed.

"Have I ever told you that you’re stubborn?" he asked when Remus’ flat spun into being around him.

"You mean today?" asked Remus weakly. He half-crawled, half-staggered to a chair. This time, Sirius met no resistance when he grabbed his friend’s shaking form and helped him settle down.

"You’re going to splinch yourself one of these days," Sirius ranted. "Why do you insist on doing that? Because you can? We all know you can! There are perfectly respectable, qualified wizards out there who can’t Apparate at all, let alone when they’ve just been through an inconceivably brutal, exhausting night. Next time, I’m not giving your wand back! Are you hurt?"

"Not very," said Remus bemusedly. Sirius quickly inspected him with his eyes. Remus did not seem to be overly cut or bruised; Padfoot had distracted the wolf from himself that night. Remus looked nothing more than exhausted by the transformation itself.

"Let’s get you into bed, then." Remus nodded, and Sirius wrapped an arm securely around his friend to walk him into the bedroom and deposit him on the bed. "All right?" he asked when Remus had been made, to Sirius’ eye, sufficiently comfortable. It was nice, Sirius mused, to deal with a concrete, solvable problem. Remus was sore and tired, so Sirius would see that he would get rest. But James’ problems . . . James’ problems . . .

"Thanks, Padfoot," said Remus with a decided rasp in his voice.

"You’re welcome. Always," Sirius answered, temporarily tearing himself out of his thoughts.

Remus tried in vain to swallow a yawn. "You must be tired too, and you have work today, don’t you? You shouldn’t have stayed up all night."

Something inside of Sirius snapped at the concern in Remus’ voice. "I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway," he admitted.

Remus forced his eyes open further. "What happened?" he asked. Terror tinged his exhausted expression.

Knowing that he ought to brush Remus’ inquiry off, Sirius nonetheless sank down to sit on the edge of the bed. James and Lily will tell him anyway, he told himself to justify his weakness. "Voldemort is after James and Lily."

Remus gasped. "They’re on the list?"

"Even Harry is," said Sirius, relieved to be expressing his concerns to someone who was old enough to understand them.

"No one . . . no one has ever . . ."

"Dumbledore thinks they still have a chance. A Fidelius Charm."

Remus, being Remus, did not need even a second to recall the intricacies of the charm. "Are you the Secret-Keeper?"

Sirius nodded. "Dumbledore offered to do it, but they insisted on using me."

"Naturally."

"Naturally?" repeated Sirius in shock.

"I’d do the same thing if I were James," said Remus matter-of-factly.

"Then you’re mad, too. The most powerful wizard in the world is offering to protect them personally and they’re turning him down!"

"You’d do anything to protect them, wouldn’t you? Go into hiding, face down a dragon, take whatever curses they throw at you?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Sirius, outraged.

"So?" Remus’ eyes threatened to drift closed as if he had proved his point.

"So, what?"

"So, you’re the best chance they have. It’s simple, Padfoot."

"It isn’t simple at all," Sirius grumbled, shifting his position on the bed, which was beginning to feel quite comfortable. "Someone is passing information about them. They’ve had two near misses already."

Remus suppressed a shudder. "We’ve known about the spy for almost a year, but . . . James and Lily . . ."

"It’s someone very close. So we’re doing this as soon as we can get our affairs in order. James has already given the Invisibility Cloak to Dumbledore to make sure that Harry gets it. It’s funny what people focus on sometimes-- he refuses to think about Harry growing up without a father, but he’ll ramble for hours about how awful it would be if Harry couldn’t nick food from the kitchens or sneak into Hogsmeade." He paused, and returned to his original subject. "This might be the last time I see you for a while."

Remus had already been serious, resigned, and as alert as a werewolf could be on the morning after the full moon. Nonetheless, he managed to become still more somber. "Take care of yourself, Sirius."

"I’ll take care of them."

"I know that. Take care of yourself, too. If the worst happens, don’t try to take on Voldemort all by yourself."

"The worst will not happen!" Sirius answered furiously.

"I know. I know. But don’t . . . let yourself become convinced that the worst has happened and act accordingly. I know that we haven’t seen each other much lately, and I know I have no right to say this, but don’t act as if you have nothing to lose . . ." Remus trailed off embarrassedly. "I suppose I’m not making much sense."

"We’re both tired."

"Do you want to stay here until you go to work?"

Suddenly, Sirius wanted nothing more. He had become so emotionally dysfunctional that he was unable to sleep without a comforting presence nearby. And Remus, despite his suspicious behavior, was still a longtime friend and a great comfort. Sirius felt better about his role as Secret-Keeper for having talked to Remus, even though Remus was . . . he felt himself drifting off to sleep where he lay. "Yes," he muttered. "Goodnight," he added as a small joke.

"Goodnight," Remus answered. Sirius barely had time to charm his watch to wake him up in time for work when the world faded from around him.

He suddenly realized that he was late. He had meant to check on James, Lily, and Harry while Voldemort was known to be outside of Great Britain. Thoroughly annoyed with himself, he Apparated to the small town to which the Potter family had fled. When the world stopped spinning, he stared at a flat, grassy plain.

That’s where James’ house is supposed to be, he thought. Did I make a mistake? He had never before made a mistake while Apparating.

"No mistake, Padfoot," James answered aloud.

I know that sometimes it seems like friends can read one another’s thoughts, but this is ridiculous.

"YOU are ridiculous, Padfoot. You bloody bastard!"

"James?" Sirius spun dumbly in a circle, wondering from where his friend’s voice came. Had the house perhaps become invisible?

"Here!" James exclaimed. James sounded angry, but Sirius had done nothing wrong. He had kept the secret. He had kept James safe.

"If this is a joke, it isn’t funny!"

James laughed a cold, piercing laugh, and Sirius shivered. He had always imagined that Voldemort’s laugh would sound this way. "Step forward, Sirius. Forward." Sirius obeyed, and entered the field. "Keep coming."

Sirius stumbled over an uneven spot in the ground. Looking down, he saw a small white cross, long abandoned and overgrown with weeds. "James?"

"Right here!" Suddenly, powerful claws sprouted from the earth beneath the cross. They wrapped themselves around Sirius’ ankles and sought to pull him down. Sirius hollered with pain and fright, and wrenched himself away from his attacker. His effort dragged up a form from below.

Sirius screamed again. The skeletal arms and legs were affixed to a naked, blood-drenched head and torso. It was James. "You killed me, Sirius," said James with deathly calm.

"J-- James, I would never betray you!"

"So you always say. You killed my wife! You killed my child!"

"I WOULD NEVER DO THAT!"

"YOU--" James suddenly broke off. The murderous tint that had so unnerved Sirius was replaced by something even more frightening: defeat. "It was my fault. I knew you. I never should have left Lily and Harry to your protection."

"It’s not your fault, James. I didn’t do it! I didn’t give you up! I’d die first!"

James sighed as much as a decaying corpse could. "You never had any self-restraint. You’d say things and do things in fits of passion, and it was all well and good when we were still at Hogwarts and we were just making people laugh. But now . . . you tell me that Moony is a spy. You order me to forget about one of my best friends. And then you tell Moony what’s going on just to make yourself feel better. You’re supposed to be so clever. You tell him you’re the Secret-Keeper, and he tells Voldemort, and Voldemort knows right where to find you and torture you. And you give me up!"

"No. No!" Sirius reached out to grasp James and shake him, make him understand that he was wrong, that he couldn’t be dead, but James would not listen.

Sirius awoke hyperventilating. He twisted his head around to see Remus sleeping beside him on the bed.

How could I?

To his surprise, an answer occurred to him.

I couldn’t, if I don’t.

I’ll tell everyone that I’m the Secret-Keeper, and Voldemort will come after me. But when I give in, I won’t know where James is.

Who else can we trust?

And it came to him.

Peter.

No one would ever suspect Peter. Even at Hogwarts, the allegedly brilliant professors had been unaware of the depths of Peter’s intelligence and courage. They had thought him a tagalong, someone whom Sirius and James kept about to stroke their egos. Because we’re just that shallow. Voldemort would never guess.

Sirius checked his watch and found that the alarm was mere seconds from sounding. It was time for work. As he turned to leave, he shot a look of loathing at Remus.

If I hadn’t told him, I would be able to protect James myself.

He was unable to maintain his hatred. Remus looked harmless enough while he was deep in sleep.

This is why Peter should do it. I’m too sentimental. Too attached.

October 31, 1981

With a feeling of nausea more painful than any in his previous experience, Peter obeyed the burning in his arm and Apparated to the side of the Dark Lord. He had never before been alone in a room with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and he had no desire to remedy this situation. Unfortunately, his desires did not matter.

"It is Halloween night, Wormtail," a voice informed him from the shadows.

Peter fell to his knees. "Yes, My Lord."

"It is time. Time for you to tell all you know."

Peter gulped. He was still weak from the meeting which had been held four days earlier. For the first time, the Death Eaters had not begun by asking him questions in a deceptively friendly way. Instead, they had repeatedly subjected him to the Cruciatus Curse and had branded him with the Dark Mark. He remembered little of that meeting but the haze of pain which had left him unable to function for days on end. He had been left with only the Dark Lord’s brand and a sneaking suspicion that he had admitted to being the Potters’ Secret-Keeper.

The Dark Lord, it seemed, had a flare for the dramatic and preferred to put off murdering James, Lily, and Harry until Halloween. He had not even asked Peter where to go. Thus, Peter had been forced to wait alone in his flat, too weak to move or do anything but berate himself for his weakness and berate Sirius for his foolishness.

Sirius had, for no apparent reason, met Peter after work one day. He had bought Peter several drinks at the nearest pub and had then announced that they were going to see James and Lily. Peter had had many years’ experience being Sirius’ friend, and he knew that when Sirius chose to pursue something with a mysterious single-mindedness, it was best to leave off asking questions and go along for the ride.

James and Lily obviously did not expect Sirius and Peter’s arrival, but the two were nonetheless invited inside.

"James," declared Sirius, "I’ve had an idea."

James smiled wanly. Recent weeks had prematurely aged him, and he no longer had the energy to respond to Sirius’ bright, jaunty remarks with enthusiastic glee. "Yes, Padfoot?"

"I was speaking to Remus on the last full moon and I mentioned your . . . situation."

James nodded. "We said goodbye to him this morning." Lily’s pain-filled eyes met James’.

"You’ll see him again," said Sirius firmly. "It might be a while, but you’ll see him again." Lily and James voiced their agreement. They had never been able to bear thinking about the worst case scenario, although they had prepared for it. "As I was saying," Sirius continued, "When I spoke to Remus, he immediately asked if I was your Secret-Keeper. I was the obvious choice."

"Obvious for a reason," said James.

Almost at the same second, Lily said "Of course it’s obvious to Remus."

Sirius waved them both off. "This is a war. We can’t afford to be obvious, especially with a spy in our midst. That’s why I’m suggesting that we tell everyone up to and including Dumbledore that I’m the Secret-Keeper but that you actually cast the spell with Peter." He smiled winningly.

A surge of hatred roared through Peter. Sirius had brought him along to make it more difficult for Lily and James to refuse his suggestion. The last thing in the world that Peter wanted to do was perform the Fidelius Charm with Lily and James. To do so would be to sign their death warrants. I’m working to save them by joining forces with the winning side-- but they have to survive the war for my work to be of any use to them. Damn you, Sirius! You could have warned me! You could have asked!

"I don’t know about this, Sirius," said Lily, and Peter inwardly began to sing the former Head Girl’s praises. "It’s not that I don’t trust Peter," she rushed on. "It’s that, well, your last bright idea was that Remus was the spy."

"This is a much better idea than that one," said Sirius.

"You have a lot of great ideas, Padfoot," put in James. "But you have to admit that sometimes it’s hard to tell the great ones from the terrible ones."

"And this is Harry’s life we’re talking about!" exclaimed Lily vehemently.

"I would never suggest anything that I thought would hurt Harry!" protested Sirius. "This is the only way! This entirely eliminates the chance that your Secret-Keeper will speak, because no one will suspect you’d use Peter! You have to switch."

Sirius gazed steadily at James, and everyone in the room knew the exact moment that James gave in. Once James’ decision was made, it was only a matter of time before Lily acquiesced.

It was less than a week before the Fidelius Charm was performed and Lily and James were hidden away in Godric’s Hollow.

It was less than another week before the Dark Lord had Peter tortured and found out that his own servant possessed the knowledge he so craved.

And now, on Halloween, the Dark Lord was asking Peter to turn over three lives to him. "Tell me all you know, Wormtail," You-Know-Who repeated.

Damn you, Sirius! "They’re in Godric’s Hollow."

The Dark Lord laughed coldly. "Apparate with me, Wormtail." Peter had no choice but to obey. Upon arriving in the neighborhood, Peter silently pointed at the house which concealed James, Lily, and Harry. "Transform." Peter followed his master’s command once more. "Scamper inside at the first opportunity. Do not let yourself be seen."

And the Dark Lord sent forth a blast that nearly knocked the front door off of its hinges. Through the newly formed crack, Wormtail could see James and Lily rushing forward, wands drawn to cover one another. James was two steps ahead thanks to his long legs, and he positioned his body to shield Lily. The door rattled once more.

"LILY, TAKE HARRY AND GO! IT’S HIM! GO! RUN! I’LL HOLD HIM OFF!" James’ words were filled with panic, but his movements were steady as he took up a dueling stance. Lily, after a final sideways glance at the husband she knew she would never see again in life, rushed from the room, stumbling a bit but determined to save her son at any cost.

At last, the Dark Lord succeeded in throwing the door open all the way. "Voldemort!" said James, trying to sound cocky and charming although he was clearly, at least to Wormtail’s eyes, terrified. "Can I offer you a drink?"

There was a crackle and a flash of light. James sent forward a spell that would have left an entirely human man unconscious for days in the Dark Lord’s direction, but it was deflected with ease. The Dark Lord loosed the cackling, shrieking, high-pitched laughed that always sounded just before he killed. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he shouted.

The dark room briefly glowed green, and in that instant Wormtail saw his friend’s silhouette tossed backwards like a rag doll. Before James’ prone form had rolled over the back of the couch, the Dark Lord had rushed after Lily’s receding form. Not wanting to be alone with James’ corpse, Wormtail followed. Damn you, Sirius! This is all your fault!

Lily had pulled Harry into her arms and was attempting to escape his nursery. When the Dark Lord blocked her escape route, she did nothing but scream. "NOT HARRY, NOT HARRY, PLEASE NOT HARRY!"

While the Dark Lord allowed his followers to torture Muggles and Muggle-borns for sport, he had never engaged in the practice himself. He held so little respect for Muggle-born witches like Lily that he did not even feel the need to kill her. "STAND ASIDE, YOU SILLY GIRL! STAND ASIDE, NOW!" Please, Lily, do as he says! Wormtail chanted urgently from his hiding place. Live to see the new era, even without James. He’s right-- you’re only a girl-- you’ll have more children!

Lily was having none of it. Harry had been her first, last, and everything since the day of his birth. She shielded him as James had shielded her an instant before. "NOT HARRY, PLEASE NO, TAKE ME, KILL ME INSTEAD!" He won’t, Lily. There’s no use in your dying, too! You’re Muggle-born, Harry isn’t, as far as You-Know-Who cares your opposition doesn’t matter but Harry’s does! Lily did not acknowledge Wormtail’s unheard pleading as she began to plead herself. "Not Harry! Please." Her voice grew quiet and mantra-like, but her determination was not to be questioned as she asked the impossible. "Have mercy. Have mercy. Have mercy. Have mer--"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a second flash of green light, and Lily, her son still in her arms, slumped backwards against Harry’s crib. She fell bonelessly; she was surely dead, and if rats could cry, Wormtail would have. He could not dwell on his lack of tear ducts, though, because there was a loud explosion followed by the caving in of the roof upon them. Mere wandlengths from Lily’s still-warm body, Wormtail blissfully lost consciousness.

A scratching sound, combined with a bright beam of light, brought him back to his senses. "Lily," said a tear-choked voice that Wormtail could not place at once. The rubble around that rat’s body shifted as her limp form was pulled from the wreckage. "Fittin’ that you an’ James went together . . . but . . ." the voice broke off in a noisy sob that was quickly joined by a thinner, more highly pitched wail. The louder sobs stopped abruptly, and large chunks of debris flew from above Wormtail as of their own volition. "Harry-- Harry! Bless me, you’re alive!"

Alive? Harry, alive? How can that be? Is that Hagrid? Where’s the Dark Lord? One question after another flooded Wormtail’s mind, and he wished that he could transform into a human with a greater capacity for complex analysis.

"What-- I have to speak to Dumbledore." Wormtail shifted just enough to see Hagrid’s enormous form producing a small globe from his omnipresent moleskin coat. With a squeeze, the ball burst into flames, and when Hagrid tossed in a pinch of powder, Albus Dumbledore’s voice echoed into the ruins.

"Hagrid? Are you there?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, Sir. James an’ Lily . . . they’re dead, Sir."

Dumbledore sighed. "I didn’t imagine they could survive, with so much Dark Magic centered on their house."

"But Professor . . . Harry . . . little Harry, he’s alive!"

"ALIVE?" Dumbledore sounded as startled as Wormtail had ever heard him. He recovered quickly, however. "That may explain a great deal. For the past four hours, I’ve heard multiple reports of Dark Detectors shutting themselves off for the first time in eleven years. Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, Foe-Glasses. Lord Voldemort has vanished from my own Foe-Glass. Witches and wizards have been turning themselves in to the Ministry of Magic, claiming to have been freed from the Imperius Curse."

"Sir-- are you-- are you sayin’ You-Know-Who has gone?"

"It looks that way, Hagrid. He never was one to leave an enemy alive, even an infant. Is Harry entirely unharmed?"

"He’s bleeding sumpin fierce from a cut on his forehead. That’s all, Sir."

"The mark of a curse?"

"I expect so. Are you sayin’ Harry defeated You-Know-Who?"

"Something kept him from killing Harry, yes. Hagrid, I need you to listen to me. I need you to follow my instructions carefully. I need you to take Harry to . . . let me see, I have it in this file . . . yes, number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. That’s where Harry’s aunt and uncle live. It’s one of the least magical areas in Britain, so you’d best wait until this evening to keep from being seen. You’ll probably need to use Muggle transport. Keep Harry safe today. Don’t speak to anyone for longer than you absolutely must. And do not, under any circumstances, give Harry to anyone else, even for a moment! Bring him to me."

"Yes, Sir."

"I’ll see you this evening, Hagrid."

"Lookin’ forward to it."

Hagrid had no sooner received his instructions than he was forced to put them into play. A familiar roar split the dawn air, and Wormtail, as a rat, was able to name the scent instantly. Sirius Black.

Presently, Sirius came into his field of view. He looked almost vampiric. His skin was ghastly pale in contrast to his tousled, black hair, and he was shaking.

"Hagrid," he gasped painfully. "What-- are they--" His voice broke off, and tremors wracked his frame as if intent on knocking it to the ground.

Hagrid still cradled Harry in one arm, but his other enormous hand came to rest on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius leaned unthinkingly into the support. "They’re dead, Sirius. Lily an’ James are dead. There’s nothin’ you can do for ’em. But Harry, here, Harry’s alive, an’ You-Know-Who has gone. It’s over."

Over. Over. Over, thought Wormtail. If Sirius finds me now, it will all be over.

The wreckage surely marked the beginning of Sirius’ search. Careful not to draw attention to himself, the rat extricated himself from the jumble of wood, bricks, and toys that penned him down. He crept through tiny tunnels of debris until he was able to leave the destroyed house.

I have some time, he reassured himself. Sirius will try to convince Hagrid to let him have Harry.

When he was certain he could not be seen, he resumed his human form with a sigh of relief. He was a very short man, but his legs were still longer than those of a rat, and a wizard had the ability to Apparate.

Best not to go to my flat. Sirius will look there. He knows me so well. There’s nowhere I can hide. I’ll have to . . . I’ll have to confront him. I’ll never be able to out-duel him. I’ll never be able to convince anyone to protect me from him. Everyone knows him, everyone loves him, everyone thinks he was the noble one protecting James.

Peter felt a wild flicker of hope. Everyone thinks he was the one protecting James! If . . . when he finds me, it will look to everyone as if I was the one who tracked him down. There’s no reason I should correct that assumption. It will certainly look that way when Sirius kills me. Wonder if he’ll get Azkaban for that? It serves him right. He was the one who insisted that James change Secret-Keepers. He was the one who was gullible enough to stop trusting Moony. Damn Sirius! I tried to help them all, and now he’s going to kill me! If only I could fake my own death. He smiled hysterically. His plan was growing more far-fetched by the minute.

I’m an unregistered Animagus! If I transform before he throws the curse . . . If I throw the curse myself, and make it look like it was him, and transform . . . no one will look for a rat. No one will believe anything he says. I’ll give up Peter and just be Wormtail.

Thank Merlin I’m a rat!

Damn Sirius, but bless Remus!

Then he began to laugh. That will never work. I’ll just go to a city. I’ll be hard to find amidst all those Muggles, and no matter how much of a temper Sirius is in, he’ll not kill me in front of Muggles! That much magic in front of that many Muggles could get him imprisoned all by itself.

And Peter Apparated away.

All around him, even in the crowds of Muggles, he could hear chatter of the events of the night before.

"The Potters, that’s right, that’s what I heard--"

"--Yes, their son, Harry--"

"Gone at last!"

In addition, owls flocked through the skies so thickly that the Muggles could hardly fail to notice. In fact, Peter could see that some of them had noticed: they were pointing at the sky, scratching their heads, and looking at one another wonderingly.

Peter was not able to remain hidden in the crowd for long. To his sheer terror, he saw a black-robed figure storming toward him. Sirius had found him after all.

Having nothing to lose, he reverted to his original plan just as Sirius stepped forward to corner him against the wall of an office building. Some of the Muggles scattered into open doors or nearby streets, but other stood to watch.

"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU?" Peter shouted. He found that he was sobbing from confusion at that day’s event and from fear at the murderous, empty look in Sirius’ eyes. His sweating fingers gripped his wand behind his back.

Sirius had not expected that. He paused for a fraction of a second before he drew his wand, and that pause was all Peter needed. He pulled a knife from his belt and, quicker than quick, cut off his index finger. Just to make sure they think I’m dead! So much adrenaline was rushing through his veins that he did not even feel the pain. "Avada Kedavra!" he whispered, pointing his wand at no one.

He had been given a few tips on performing Dark Magic during meetings with various of the Dark Lord’s followers. Obviously, he had seen a great deal of Dark Magic performed. He had never, however, tried such a sophisticated curse for himself.

Often, when a young wizard tried a spell for the first time, the results were embarrassing or even dangerous. Such was the case this time. As Peter transformed, he noted in shock that the entire street had exploded. Muggles began to scream and cry.

Sirius began to laugh.

Wormtail, petrified, slipped into the sewer.

He ran for what seemed like miles to his tiny rat legs. Eventually, his paw began to throb with pain. His breath came rapidly, and he slowed, wishing for fresh air rather than the stench of the sewers.

Lily and James, dead.

Sirius, his mind possibly gone, soon to be imprisoned.

Muggles, dead?

Peter, dead. In his place, Wormtail.

He lay there shaking for a long time.

To be concluded.