The Marauder Monologues

SIRIUS BLACK: "Secrets"

I was supposed to check on Peter on Halloween. I was going to drop by his house and stay for just a minute, just to make sure he hadn't been bothered by anyone who'd guessed our secret about the Secret-Keeper. Then I was going to go to Ronnie Hooch's party with Remus. It was Halloween, and Ronnie used to throw a hell of a party, and there wasn't any proof that Remus was the spy, even though that was what Peter had told me. I was just going to keep my eye out. A rumor wasn't going to keep me from spending Halloween at a party with one of my best friends, though it would definitely keep me from saying anything about the Fidelius Charm.

I remember riding the Triumph, my absolutely gorgeous motorbike, through the night. I watched Muggle children below parading around the streets in their gaudy costumes, waving their electric torches - I saw it all, the night was so clear. I could count the stars, could even see my burning namesake, could note that the moon was slowly waxing towards its peak. In another week or so, Remus would be changing, and we'd perhaps take a midnight run. Maybe I could convince James to join us again.

I remember thinking about my godson - how proud James was at all the new words Harry could say. It almost made me want a family of my own, that secure, happy fairy tale. But I had my own life.

Then I got to Peter's flat and found it empty.

First, all the lights were off, then he didn't come to the door, then I actually tried the door and found it was unlocked. If someone had broken in, it wouldn't have been hard anyway, because his Locking Spells were always so basic. I pushed the door open and looked inside. My watch said it was 10 o'clock, and I knew Peter should have been home, because he was meeting me, and besides, he never went out anywhere like Remus and I did. His flat was still full of his furniture, his things, like nothing had been touched, but everything had obviously been left in a great hurry. There were dishes in the sink, a few clothes on the floor - but these could have been sloppy bachelor habits. But there were candles that were still warm, whose wax had not yet solidified. And something just felt wrong...

I started to feel sick. Part of me knew at that moment exactly what was going to take place that night. But part of me was still denying it as I left Peter's flat without locking it again, and as I kicked the Triumph into gear and pushed her into the stars. Dumbledore, I had to ask Dumbledore. He would know where Peter was. Dumbledore knew everything.

I would learn later that at approximately 10:30 that night, as I was flying back to my flat, thinking of how I could speak to Dumbledore through my fireplace, the Dark Mark was spotted in Godric's Hollow. I didn't hear of it at the time. But the Mark was spotted, and the Ministry sent members there moments before the Order could act. The Potters' house was in ruins. Before anyone searched the house, they made sure to evacuate the rest of the surrounding houses, each of which were around a mile off from the Potters' house. Bloody stupid Ministry, of course - don't search for survivors first, just finish your own job.

My mistake was in trying to contact Dumbledore. I didn't know that he was, in fact, heading to the Potters' at that time. I spent a good twenty minutes or more trying to reach him, as I clocked it, and during that time he was arriving at Godric's Hollow, convincing the Ministry that there were no Death Eaters present and they needed to search for bodies (to no avail, of course - the Ministry stubbornly refused, and even Albus Dumbledore could not deny their direct orders), and realizing that for the Potters to have been found, their Secret-Keeper must have let the secret out.

As far as everyone else knew, I was still the Secret-Keeper. That was why I'd told James to switch to Peter in private, because I knew that everyone considered James and I best friends, and that I was the logical choice for a Secret-Keeper. Dumbledore himself offered, but James refused, said I was the best choice, and I let him say that - right up until the day of the 23^rd. That was the day before the Charm was performed, and that was when I finally approached him about a more secret Secret-Keeper. He and Lily agreed, and they performed the Charm in secret, no pun intended, with Peter. No one else was present. No one else knew that Peter was it instead of me. I'd even offered to let them wipe my memory, just to make sure I didn't remember where they were living, in case Death Eaters got ahold of me and tried to pry it out of me.

I couldn't get in touch with Dumbledore, and Peter was missing, and I had the worst feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I did the only logical thing: I flew to Lily and James's. I took the Triumph and flew there as fast as I possibly could; I felt the bike shuddering as I pushed her. And from the distance, I could see the green smoke drifting into the night. I could see the Dark Mark.

I thought I was going to be sick when I landed beside Lily and James's ruined house. Godric's Hollow houses are all set far apart, so you really don't have close neighbors - their house was quite isolated. The Ministry and the Order hadn't arrived their yet; apparently the Ministry was really holding things up, trying to fly circles around the property and make sure the Death Eaters were gone, instead of seeing if they could stop anything from happening. Fucking cowards, scared for themselves instead of the Potters - the Potters! Lily and James had practically devoted their entire lives to the Order since graduation, and all the Ministry wanted to do was make sure their own skins were safe!

I didn't put the kickstand up; the Triumph simply fell over, cut off with a growl, as I ran to the dilapidated house and tore the boards aside. This was what a powerful killing curse did - destroyed everything in sight.

I found Lily first. This must have been around 11:30; her body was cold. Her face was terrified, but determined, like she knew what she was doing. Her body had scratches on it from the house collapsing on her, she was sort of dusty, so I just knelt and cleared the boards off of her and brushed her face off. I straightened her hair. I saw water on her face and thought it was raining, but then I realized I was crying. Everything was so quiet - I could hear my heart pounding.

"I'm sorry, Lil," I whispered, pushing the hair out of her eyes. She was staring blankly up at me. "Sorry, Lil. I didn't mean for this to happen. Oh, I'm sorry..." I choked on my tears, tried to blink so I could see clearly. Then I took my forefinger and thumb and gently pushed her eyelids down, so she wouldn't have to see the ruined house around her, or the bodies of her family. "That's right, Lily," I whispered, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, "just go to sleep. You're alright."

I'm not sure what I was thinking. I don't think I was thinking at all, all my thoughts must have left me. But I had enough presence of mind to search for James's body. His was near what I guessed was the front door. I pushed the splintered door off of him and fell to my knees at the sight of my dead best friend. My dead best friend... I took him in my arms, laid him across my lap, held him. He couldn't be dead. Not James.

The expression on his face was so calm, so determined, so ready. He could face anything. There were a few scratches on him, but that didn't matter, he was still okay, he could still fight and defend himself and his family. I half expected him to get up and ask me what had happened, where was Lily.

But he didn't move.

"James..." I whispered. He didn't answer, so I went on. "James, I'm sorry. I already apologized to Lily too. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..." And I leaned my head onto his body and just cried. I'd never cried like that before. It was out of shock, mostly. I was crying onto the body of the boy I'd grown up with - we'd served our detentions together, I'd been best man at his wedding, I was godfather to his son...he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be gone...

I finally pulled myself together enough to think to shut his eyes as well. The lenses were blown out of his glasses, so I removed them and shut his eyes very gently, then folded the spectacles up and tucked them into his shirt pocket. Then I decided he didn't look right without them, so I put the broken glasses back on his face and laid him back down in the rubble. Far be it from me to disturb the dead. They were both already covered in my tears.

I stood up and walked halfway across the destroyed house, then my knees gave out and I just fell down and cried. I don't know how long I sat there, crying into the sleeve of my robe - maybe not crying so much as feeling my heart break, mourning two of my best friends. Murdered.

I didn't want to see Harry's body. I knew he was dead, he couldn't have survived, and I just couldn't bear to see his chubby little arms and legs, his green eyes, spectral in death. I went to the Triumph and clumsily flew away before it came to me that I did need to see the body. I needed to prove that he was dead--

No.

It hit me like a blow to my chest, like I just couldn't breathe. I've never been a Seer, I practically flunked Divination, but I knew he was still alive. It was impossible, but...I could sense it. I turned around.

When I got back to the ruined house, Hagrid was already there. I would learn later that Dumbledore had snuck him past the Ministry, who were still holding up the perimeter, and had ordered him to retrieve Harry. Dumbledore had known he was still alive as well. Was Harry's presence, his spirit, so strong that we all felt it? Or were Lily and James making sure someone was watching over their son?

We'll never know, will we?

But Hagrid was lifting Harry from the ruins as I arrived, dropping the Triumph once again. Precious Harry, who was such a good baby, who never, ever cried, was still silent now. He wasn't smiling or laughing like he usually was, but wore a sad, pensive expression. I ran over to them, tripping over the boards sticking up from the ground, snagging my robe on one. I was shaking.

Harry had an ugly gash across his forehead, which was beginning to close a little now, but I knew it was going to scar. Failing in my duties as a godfather, I thought to myself, I let him get hurt-- Then I realized how absolutely impossible that it was that he had survived at all.

"Harry!" I gasped, reaching for my godson. Hagrid was so startled to see me there - he must not have noticed the Triumph's roar as he was intent in his search for Harry - that he fairly threw Harry into my arms. My godson recognized me and did not smile, but did not cry either. He simply looked at me, as if for an answer. I held him to my chest like I'd seen James do. "Harry...I'm so sorry..." I whispered, feeling my eyes fill with tears again. I was holding my godson, and on either side of us were the bodies of his mother and father.

Hagrid lifted Harry out of my arms, and I was shaking so hard I could hardly hold onto him. "Give him to me, Hagrid," I said sharply.

He stood head and shoulders taller than me; he watched me with his great black eyes. "Can't, Sirius. Sorry, but I got me orders from Dumbledore hisself. Supposed ter get him and bring him back to Dumbledore."

"Where's the Ministry? The Order? Why aren't they here yet?" I demanded, reaching for Harry again. Hagrid lifted him out of my reach.

"Stuck a' the perimeter, makin' sure there're no Death Eaters still here. 'S a big mess, Sirius. They're sayin'-" He looked around, then whispered, "They're sayin' You-Know-Who is...gone."

"Gone?" I repeated dumbly. That was not possible.

"Yeah, gone. An' where's the Ministry?" He growled. "Filthy cowards, they are!"

"Cowards," I said again, reaching for Harry a third time. My hands were shaking wildly; I don't think I could have held him even if Hagrid had given him to me.

"Sirius - yer not alright, are yeh?" he asked, suddenly realizing this. "Yer fine. Nothing yeh could've done."

I felt sick again. It was a terrible night; I was alternately sick and crying. I could hardly stand up. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to maintain my balance, looking for an excuse not to look around and see Lily and James's bodies again. "Hagrid," I said, the conviction in my voice surprising even me, "let me have Harry."

"Told yeh, I can't. Got me orders from Dumbledore." He joggled Harry a bit in his arms, holding the child close.

"He's supposed to go to me!" I snapped, my voice rising in pitch.

Hagrid looked at me strangely. "Little Harry's s'posed to go to his aunt an' uncle's. Dumbledore's 'xact words."

"Muggles?!" I exclaimed. "That's ridiculous...ridiculous..." I caught sight of Lily's body, near Hagrid's feet, again. I tried not to retch. Harry was watching me with his great green eyes - the cut on his forehead made my heart ache. How on earth had he survived?

"Yeh, tha's righ', Muggles. Albus Dumbledore knows best."

I couldn't take much more of this. My oath to Lily and James was sacred. If I had failed them, if I had let them die, the least I could do was look after their son. "Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him!" In any normal situation, either someone would have declared me hysterical, or they would have obeyed me. But Hagrid was not to be convinced.

"Dumbledore said no, Sirius."

And I was about to ask why when it hit me.

Dumbledore thought I was the Secret-Keeper. In fact, everyone thought I was the Secret-Keeper.

The Secret-Keeper who was obviously working for the Dark Lord, as an undercover agent. The traitor in the Order. The one who'd sold them all out. The traitor who now, at Voldemort's downfall, would have to run for his worthless life.

But it wasn't me, it was Peter! Peter was their Secret-Keeper! They had chosen him, I'd never been involved in the ceremony, once they performed the Memory Charm I wouldn't even know where they lived! My mind was screaming - my lips were sealed in mute shock.

The only problem now, was that Peter was gone. I was standing by Lily and James's bodies. And the only people who knew I was innocent were dead, or missing. I was the only one left.

And no one would believe the one person they could pin the crime on. I was as good as guilty.

I realized all this in a heartbeat, and knew what I had to do. I had to find Peter and make him confess that I was innocent, that he was the traitor. It shouldn't be too hard. A little pressure and Peter would confess.

Then I would look after Harry, and do what little I could for my poor friends. But for now, Harry would have to go to someone else - Dumbledore would look after him till I could prove my story. "Take the motorbike, Hagrid."

"Wha'? Sirius, yeh love tha' thing--"

"Take it!" I ordered. I needed to change, to become Padfoot, to search for that bastard and pin him to the wall and make him confess that he had sold the best of us to Voldemort... "I won't be needing it anymore," I added blandly.

"If yeh insist--"

"I do. Go. Now." Hagrid turned and began to lumber away to the Triumph, but I stopped him with a call.

"Wait, Hagrid!"

He stopped, and I ran to my godson one more time. I needed to see him - needed to remember what I was fighting for. "I promise, Harry," I whispered, under my breath. "I promise I'll get him. For your parents. For you."

I touched his hair softly - James's hair - and put my thumb on the cut, to see if it was closing. He squirmed, blinking his eyes - Lily's eyes. Then I turned around, telling Hagrid over my shoulder, "Take care of him."

"I will, Sirius--"

I waited till he'd taken off on the Triumph before changing. No sense in giving away our Animagi forms - I had at least that much sense. I transformed into Padfoot and began hunting.

All through that night, from midnight to sunrise, while I was hunting Peter/Wormtail, many other things were taking place. I learned about them much later, from Remus. His story was quite interesting.

He went to Dumbledore outside of the Hollow perimeter - he'd sensed something was wrong as well. There, they realized what had happened, or at least what they thought had happened. Obviously, I had betrayed the Potters, since I was slated to be their Secret-Keeper, and I was now on the run because You-Know-Who's powers had broken when he tried to kill Harry Potter. Dumbledore told only a select few about the Fidelius Charm and the fact that 'I' was their Secret-Keeper, and in turn, there was a team of Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad searching for me all night. Apart from those few, no one else knew that I was involved in this crime. Everyone else simply thought that You-Know-Who had finally caught the Potters.

I hunted Peter all night - I smelled his disgusting, traitorous stench - I found him in London, in an alley, in the morning. I chased him all the way to London. I found him, and transformed into my human form again. He was human already, trying to outrun me. I caught him.

"Peter, you lying bastard--" I snarled, approaching him. I didn't think about drawing my wand. I wanted to murder him with my bare hands.

Peter looked around, that scared look he always got when the bullies were chasing him. Only this time, James and Remus and I weren't there to protect him. Remus didn't know. James was dead. And I was the attacker.

And then he did something I'd never believed him capable of. He didn't need someone else's protection - he had his own escape plan. I saw it in his eyes, when he thought of it, and I wondered what the hell he planned on doing. I was going to beat him senseless, then bring him in to the Ministry and the Order for confessions.

But instead of running or trying to attack me, he started to sob. Then he cried, very loudly, "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"

How dare he implicate me! I snarled at him like I was Padfoot, I growled, I reached for my wand--

-And he beat me to it. He pulled out his wand. He smiled at me.

Then he blew the entire street apart. I crouched against the wall, covering my face, out of instinct; when I looked up, there were at least a dozen Muggle bodies surrounding me, and steam was rising from a cracked sewer line. He'd destroyed the street. And when the steam cleared, I saw the Hit Wizards approaching me, their wands held ready. Must have been twenty of them. And that great git Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Catastrophes, was right behind them.

It was then that I really realized what had happened. Peter had killed himself rather than face Azkaban and disgrace. I was the only one left to take the fall. No one was going to try to prove I was innocent. All the secrets, all the answers to this tragedy, were hidden in three dead people and one scapegoat.

I started to laugh.

I laughed and laughed and laughed. It wasn't really funny, but there wasn't much else I could do. I was surrounded by bodies. I'd intended to kill Peter. I looked crazy enough to have done it, I looked deranged, I was filthy and tired and my robes were all torn and dirty. I was the only one who knew the truth, and as of this minute, no one on earth was going to acknowledge 'my side' of the story. I just laughed because it was so hopeless, so stupid, so terrible. I laughed because I was too far gone to cry.

Twenty Hit Wizards escorted me away from the broken sewer line and the bodies of the twelve Muggles Peter had taken out along with himself. Funny, but I'd have never thought he'd have the guts to off himself. I guess that was the more cowardly option anyway, rather than go to Azkaban, which is where I knew I was headed.

They found part of Peter's index finger and gave it to his mother in a box. That and the Order of Merlin, First Class. It made me want to vomit when I heard it. That damned cowardly traitor, in the Order of Merlin. I would have killed him, if he hadn't beaten me to it.

I stayed in Azkaban for a week before they held my 'trial,' if you could call it that. In that week I lost eight pounds, didn't sleep at all, and had serious trouble remembering the faces of certain people: my mother, the Marauders. I just couldn't picture them at all, even though I'd known them for nearly all of my twenty-one years. I started to forget in a week. That's what the Dementors do - they suck out all your memories, all the good ones anyway. For some reason, the images of shutting Lily's eyes and crying into James's shirt really stuck with me that week. It kept me up at night. It was like nightmares, only awake and very, very real.

I didn't really see the point of going to my trial, but I guess it didn't matter. It was more of a sentencing, really, and it was a short break from the Dementors...short being the operative word. They did all of the inquiries and testimonies without me. Then, for the last part, they dragged me out, all barefoot and stinking and dirty, still in the robe I'd worn that Halloween night, and locked me into the chair that was angled to face both the judge and the jury, and most of the audience as well.

'Good posture,' I remembered, and smirked to myself as I sat up straight in my chair, then gave up with the effort. I was fucking exhausted - I was damned to Azkaban anyway - I might as well slouch in the chair if I wanted to. I looked out into the crowd, and suddenly remembered looking into the crowd, grinning proudly, from my post as best man at James's wedding. People were smiling at me then. Now they looked like they were afraid of me, or like they'd enjoy ripping my throat out. It didn't really matter, though.

I saw plenty of people I recognized. Albus Dumbledore was in the front row, his blue eyes hard against my gaze. He hadn't looked like he'd hated me that much when I'd tried to 'kill' Snape in school, in our sixth year. He really looked like he hated me.

I saw Peter's mother - Mrs. Pettigrew. She was sobbing into her handkerchief, crying so hard I thought she might pass out. 'That's right, lady, go ahead and cry,' I thought to myself, 'your son's a murdering bastard anyway, but you'll never have to know.' Her husband put his arm around her, trying to hold her up. Neither of them looked at me.

My parents didn't look at me either. They were in the very back row. Sariah and Sebasten weren't there - 'Be thankful for small favors,' I thought. 'wouldn't want my brother and sister to see this.' Before the judge even started speaking, my mother stood up, sobbing, and left the room very quickly. My father followed her. I was sort of glad they didn't stay. I don't know why.

Remus did look at me though - he glared at me first, but must have seen something in my expression. Maybe I just looked pathetic then, I'd already lost weight, and I was so grimy. He just sort of looked at me with those light eyes of his, like he wanted to ask me 'why?', but couldn't bring himself to do it. I knew what he was thinking. I must have smirked, because he went back to glaring, but then the judge started speaking.

It was Bartemius Crouch - famous for sentencing everyone, no matter what the crime. He stood and glared at me from his high judge's seat, then thundered, "Sirius Black. You have been brought before this court on charges of the murder of twelve Muggles and one wizard, Peter Pettigrew, by use of the Killing Curse. Do you have any statements before your sentencing?"

Shit, they were already sentencing me. But they were asking for statements? That had to be the best joke I'd ever heard. They wanted to hear what the murderer had to say before they put him away for good. They wanted to hear Lord Voldemort's most faithful servant beg for mercy or blindly deny everything or make an outrageous claim that the Dark Lord would rise again. They wanted to hear me say that I wasn't sorry for killing everyone, and then they would feel better about sending me to Azkaban. They wanted another reason to hate me. They wanted me to entertain them.

I opened my mouth slightly, looked around at everyone staring at me in the courtroom, and I just couldn't help it. I laughed again.

"Ha." Pause. "Ha." Pause. "Ha, ha, ha..."

And it really struck me as funny. I got that 'too far gone' feeling again, and I started to laugh, I started to writhe with laughter in my seat. It was simply hilarious. Here I was, with an unforgivable crime pinned on me by the world's dumbest, slowest, most cowardly, most worthless wizard - and he was off scot-free. Dead, but innocent. It made me want to turn back time and either be nicer to Peter when we were still in school, or kill him right off the bat and get it over with. But this thought amused me too, and I laughed again.

The whole courtroom was aghast at my behavior. I had the feeling they were expecting anything but this. The blood rushed to my face, I started to feel hot all over, but I couldn't stop laughing. All I could think was that I had always been the joker, and now the joke was on me, and damn, if it wasn't so perversely funny!

And I knew I was sort of laughing so I wouldn't scream (in pain or anger or sadness) and sort of laughing because I was quite crazy already. Azkaban had already begun to claim me. What did it matter if I went back now, since I was obviously already crazy? And that was funny too, and I laughed some more, and now my sides were starting to hurt. People were staring still.

"You disgust me," I saw Crouch mouth, and then he roared, "Sirius Black, for the use of an Unforgivable Curse, I sentence you to a life term in Azkaban, until you die a natural death!"

Some of the crowd clapped; Peter's mother sobbed aloud. I was still laughing when they dragged me out of the chair, laughing so hard I could hardly walk. I kept stumbling. I don't think I looked at anyone, I was just lost inside my own head, thinking, 'What about the fact that I don't have the Dark Mark? What about the fact that you didn't use Priori incantatem on my wand? What about the fact that I'm fucking innocent?'

But it didn't matter, nothing mattered...

I'm in Azkaban, cold, cold, dark, hard, nothing warm or bright or soft. No food, food does not matter, food does not taste, why can't I just die already?

no memories - nothing good ever happened to me, not ever, because I can't remember it, and if I can't remember it then it didn't really happen

...james and lily's faces, cold, eyes open - I shut their eyes - and harry's going to have a scar...

...peter's nasty fucking grin before he offed himself in the alley...

I know bad things happened to me because I remember them very, very, very clearly, I live them over and over again, that's all that ever happened to me

No! I'm innocent! No! No! No! I didn't do it! I swear! It was the rat, it was the rat! Not me!

...my parents couldn't even look at me, I'm so evil...

I'm innocent, I'm innocent, I'm innocent, I'm innocent, I'm innocent I know I am I know I'm innocent

have to stay alive, have to stay alive, because I'm innocent, and someday I'll get out and everyone will know I'm innocent, everyone will know it was Peter

someday everyone will know these secrets

...james and lily's faces...