Paper Wings

Instinct of the Seeker

Remus stepped lightly from shadow to shadow, inhaling the familiar aromas of the school, once his second home. He marvelled that four-odd years' absence could render the old halls so unfamiliar, yet leave their smells unchanged. He slipped into the shadows beside the ancient suits of armour, listened to the low hum of conversation coming from the dining students, and wished he could join in their warm dinner and merry laughter. He was returning to a home in which he no longer belonged, and the few years since he had last been here felt like lifetimes.

He crept up the moving staircases, carefully avoiding every trick step, pulled the orb from his pocket and whispered, "Was he here?" The Remembrall shone brightly, a beam of light that led directly to the Gryffindor dormitory.

Remus could hardly breathe. Heart pounding with excitement, he slipped the glowing orb back into his pocket and hurried down the corridor.

In front of the gilded portrait of the Fat Lady, guardian of Gryffindor tower, Remus fingered the wand in his pocket. He knew that she would allow herself to be slashed to bits rather than let an intruder enter the tower, so he contented himself with counting the number of greyhounds in the portraits on the walls, waiting impatiently until a student arrived with the password. Or until he was caught by that dratted cat, Mrs. Norris, and chained up in the dungeons, he thought wryly. Filch would enjoy that.

Remus heard footsteps and spun round, hiding quickly in the shadows. A young girl was making her lonely way up from dinner. The dungeons, it seemed, would not be in his immediate future. From the way the girl's shoulders sagged under the weight of her bag and the nervous glances she shot at her wristwatch, Remus guessed that she was a fifth year, preparing for O.W.L.s. She looked so young.

"Puffskein Feed," she said to the portrait. The Fat Lady bowed and swung her portrait open. Holding his breath, Remus slipped into the tower alongside the girl. Sensing his proximity, she turned around curiously but looked right through his shadow. Remus darted to the opposite side of the common room; the girl shrugged, probably blaming her paranoia on the stresses of upcoming exams, and settled at a table by the window.

Remus edged over to the spiral steps that led to the boys' dormitory. He ran his hand along the smooth wooden banister and was seized by a powerful nostalgia. Though he knew it was ridiculous, part of him expected to see three smiling faces waiting at the top of the stairs, laughing at some dirty joke, beckoning him in. Moony! Where've you been?

With a deep breath, he continued up the steps and queried the Remembrall again. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the light seemed even stronger in the tower. He scanned the door to each room until he found the fourth year dormitory.

Remus inhaled sharply. This was his door. Our door.

He knocked quietly. Hearing no reply from within, he pushed the door open and stepped inside when he saw that it was empty. He scanned the room; there were no pets sleeping on pillows, trunks, or bedside tables. Remus began to search under beds and draperies, calling Scabbers' name, then Wormtail's, but could find no sign of the rat. The remaining Gryffindors would soon return from dinner, and Peter was nowhere to be found.

Leaning to look underneath one of the beds again, a rough carving in the bedpost caught his eye. The familiar inscription was still there, softened around the edges by the intervening years: Padfoot 1975-Forever!

Remus traced the inscription with the tip of his finger.

Though he knew time was short, he couldn't help but examine the posts of each bed in the room. All hail the Four Marauders 1972 -- there were nearly identical marks for six consecutive years, then -- Potter's bed '71, Wormtail the Rat 1975, Padfoot & Prongs, Moony was here. Remus smiled, gently touching the words.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something moving through the window and turned quickly to look. In the distance, red and gold blurs shot around the Quidditch pitch in the fading light.

A faint fatherly voice rose from Remus' memory: He's an impressive little seeker, that Adam Diggory. Charlie simply idolises him. Remus thought for a moment. Perhaps the Weasley boys had gone to watch Quidditch practice.

***

Once outside of the castle, Remus queried the Remembrall, hoping that no one would see the ray of light arrow directly towards the pitch. Seized by excitement, he broke into a run, not caring that a sharp eye could have easily seen a Remus-shaped shadow dashing over the grounds and across the lawns.

Chest heaving, he reached the Quidditch pitch and clambered into the stands. In the fading evening light, seven players whizzed around the field, and Remus automatically paused to assess their flying skill. They were quite good; Gryffindor would have a shot at the cup this year. Barely visible over the tiers of bleachers, three small heads watched the scarlet blurs dart back and forth across the pitch. The tallest of these, a redhead, was undoubtedly Bill Weasley. Beside him was his brother Charlie and on Charlie's other side was a tiny blonde boy hopping up and down. If the disapproving tilt of Bill's shoulders was any indication, he clearly thought the younger boy's behaviour was quite immature. Quieting the excited child with a glance, Bill turned back to the pitch.

All three were riveted as the Seeker entered a spectacular dive straight for them. Remus instinctively ducked behind the seats, but the boys never flinched.

"Go on Adam! You've got it! That's my coz," the little blond kid cheered. Listening to their yelling and whooping, Remus found himself stifling a bittersweet smile; they sounded so much like three boys who had gathered in the same stands years ago, to cheer for a messy-haired Gryffindor Chaser.

Adam Diggory, his face a mask of focus, swooped under the stands and nabbed the Snitch just above the grass. Shouting and waving, the three little boys ran down onto the field as the Gryffindor captain flew down to congratulate Adam on his catch.

Remus took the opportunity to sneak down to their bags. There was a lunchbox decorated with flying cartoon Quidditch players, a knapsack with a broken zipper, and--

There.

Poking out of a large compartment of the most threadbare bag of the lot, cheeks full of leftovers from the boys' dinner, was a fat, glossy rat.

Remus threw open the bag and stared at the animal.

"Peter?" he croaked.

The rat gave a frightened squeak, attempting to dash from the bag and invisible captor. He tangled himself in the shoulder strap and Remus reached out to grab him. He held the struggling rodent and examined him in the fading light.

"Peter?" he asked again.

"Oi! Bill, Adam, Cedric! Look at Scabbers!!"

Boy has effing sharp eyes, thought Remus. Rat in hand, he turned and leapt down from the stands.

"Adam, help them!"

"Charlie, stop Adam'll get him back."

"Let go my arm, Bill!"

Remus glanced back as Adam stuck his fingers in the corners of his mouth and whistled. The next instant, six talented fliers joined in pursuit of Remus' shadow. Bollocks. He bolted.

"This way!"

"I think I see him!"

"Hurry up then, Andrews."

"What we lookin' for anyway, Diggory?"

Remus thought quickly as he ran. The forest was off to his right, castle lawns to his left. Neither was private enough to properly speak to Peter, nor could he hide from the pursuing Gryffindors for long. Ahead was the lake, and beyond that lay the road to Hogsmeade, from whence he could Apparate. Too far, Remus thought. There was no way he could outrun the brooms to the village. He needed something between the pitch and forest--

The Whomping Willow. The Whomping Willow was the nearest escape route.

Remus slipped into the shadow of a nearby pine tree, hiding the rat within his cloak while Wormtail bit his hand and squirmed. The Gryffindor Quidditch team streaked past.

"See it?"

"I think so! This way."

"O'Malley, that's your shadow!"

After they had passed, Remus darted back to the Willow. With a flick of his wand, he depressed the little knot; the branches froze tremulously. Remus slipped into the opening between the roots and began to run down the tunnel, barely noting the sharp stitch in his side or the whistle behind him. He ran and ran, cursing under his breath that the passage was so damnably long.

When he felt that he was far enough away from the school, he gasped, "Finite," and ended the Shadowalker Charm. The he shouted, "Alohamora!" pointing his wand at the door now visible ahead.

Without breaking stride, he sped through and stopped to catch his breath. A dim glow lit the splintered furniture and churned-up dust, and the floorboards creaked beneath his feet. He walked father into the house.

Carefully drawing the squeaking rat from inside his robes, Remus looked Wormtail over once more. He held the beady black eyes up to his own.

"Peter?" he choked, almost panting.

The rat twisted, trying to take another chunk out of Remus's hands. His bald tail whipped against Remus's skin.

"Peter. Stop. It's me. Bloody -- Ow! That hurt! Change, so we can talk." Remus tried to reason with the frantic animal and catch his breath at the same time. Here was his proof, proof that his friends were not all gone, proof that Padfoot's call was true, proof that he hadn't run all over the world in vain.

And bloody Peter, squirming and trying to bite him, refused to change back into a man.

His mounting frustration was abruptly interrupted by a whooshing sound from the room beside him. Through the door burst a boy on broomstick.

"Gotcha!" Adam Diggory yelled triumphantly, circling the room. Remus had to admire the lad's bravery; here he was, alone with a stranger -- a fully qualified wizard -- in an unknown location far from help of any kind, and the boy felt victorious for having come so far.

"Get off your broom," Remus said.

Adam, to his great surprise and relief, obeyed. "Give me the kid's rat," he demanded brashly in return.

"No, listen--"

Adam raised his wand.

"Listen--"

"Expelliarmus!" Adam yelled.

Remus managed to keep hold of both his wand and Peter, though wizard, rat, and wand were knocked to the ground. Remus scrambled back to his feet, wand levelled at Adam, willing his voice to remain calm. "I suggest you listen to me for a moment."

"Why should I?" Adam replied defiantly, wand still raised.

"Because this is no rat."

"That's Percy's rat, Scabbers. I met him last night. You're mental."

"My mental state is neither here nor there. This is not a rat. He is an Animagus by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

"He is not! Why should I believe you? Who are you anyways?" A dozen more questions seemed ready to issue from the boy's mouth. He stood in front of Remus unafraid, in true Gryffindor fashion, lower lip jutting out, fourteen-year-old indignation quivering in his stocky frame, cheeks flushed in the pale blue light that followed Remus around the Shack, a charm placed there more than ten years ago.

Remus took a deep breath. "My name is Remus Lupin."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"I'm a friend of Mr. Weasley's."

Adam considered for a moment. "If that's true, then where is Mr. Weasley right now?" He smiled, proud of his own cleverness.

"Brazil."

"Okay. Fine." Adam seemed to believe him. "So why'd you take the rat?"

"Because he isn't a rat."

"But you didn't have to steal him. How come you didn't just ask Charlie for him?"

Remus blinked and opened his mouth, then shut it, at a loss for words in the face of such clear fourteen-year-old logic.

"If you're really Mr. Weasley's friend, give the rat here."

"Please, listen to me for a moment." Remus gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his fingers as Peter continued to bite.

"I know, 'he's not a rat'. Bollocks. Give him here, or I'll hex you."

Remus was using every ounce of self control in his rigid frame to reason with the boy, and to not shake him by the shoulders. He spoke through teeth clenched shut. "This rat is a wizard."

"Says who?"

"I do."

"How? How do you know?"

Remus was seriously considering placing a Silencing Charm on the boy, but managed to speak calmly. "I've known him the better part of my life."

"You from Brazil, too, then?"

"No, but neither is he. Not originally."

"You say he's an Animagus?"

"I do."

"But that makes no sense. I've studied them. Why would a wizard decide to become a rat?"

Remus considered explaining to the boy, who clearly hadn't studied very diligently, that a wizard's Animagus form was less a decision than a discovery of the animal within, but instead he simply replied, "That is exactly what I intend to find out." Then he had an idea. "And I need your help, Adam"

Adam looked surprised at being addressed by name and even more at being asked for help. He nodded his head importantly, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. Remus held Wormtail's quivering form tightly.

"Right, then," he began, "I need you to repeat after me. Revertofera."

"Revertofera, Revertofera." Adam repeated the word until he had mastered the correct intonation. "What will it do?"

"If he really is a rat, it won't do anything," Remus explained. "If he is Peter, it will force him to change back into a man."

Adam nodded, and they began the incantation together. "One. Two. Three. Revertofera!"

The rat began to glow slightly as Remus let go of him. His furry body twisted and thrashed about midair. There was a sudden bang of blue and white light; it was like watching a tower building itself in seconds. The rat fell, and a head rose from the ground, followed by shoulders, long soft arms, a belly. Then the entire man stood in front of the wizard and shocked boy.

"Cor," breathed Adam, duly impressed.

Remus stared at Peter.

For a long moment, neither man moved. Adam looked from one to the other, his eyes wide and curious, but he said nothing.

Very slowly, Remus lifted a trembling hand and touched Peter's shoulder. It felt solid enough under his hand. He knitted his eyebrows and pushed Pettigrew in the chest.

"I thought you were dead," Remus said hoarsely, his voice low. "Why didn't you change?"

Peter turned beady eyes up at him. "Didn't know you'd learnt that spell." He shrugged.

Remus had expected his friend to be relieved, or perhaps apologetic, even glad to see him. Instead, Peter looked twitchy and nervous, not an ounce of happiness or remorse in his pointy face. He shrugged again quickly, his body still hunched, his eyes darting around the edges of the room. Remus noted that something of the rat lingered in Peter's squinting eyes, large front teeth, and pointy nose. These characteristics seemed to have grown more prominent over the years, and Remus wondered absently if, over time, the rat and human would begin to look more and more like one another.

Wordlessly, Adam watched the adults, his wand still clutched in shaking fingers.

"How'd you find me?" Peter finally demanded.

Remus pulled the golden orb from his pocket.

"Was he here?" he whispered.

The orb's brilliant light illuminated every corner of the dim room; so close to its target, the golden Hounding light was blinding. None of them could look at it for long. Remus dropped the Remembrall back into his pocket and looked sheepishly at the other two, blinking in the sudden dim. "Also, Mr. Weasley helped."

"Mr. W--" Adam began to ask before Remus cut him off.

"I met him in Brazil, and he told me all about his son. More importantly, he told me all about his son's new pet rat. Then he showed me a picture. It makes sense, I think, that you would go there, but I only know half the story." Remus looked at Peter, waiting for further explanation. When none was forthcoming, he continued quickly, words tumbling out on top of one another. "You went into hiding. You wanted to keep an eye on the remaining Death Eaters, but following them around the world was becoming too dangerous. You could have gone anywhere, but you chose a wizarding family to take you in. You could get news from them. And you didn't choose just any family; you picked one that you knew." He paused, searching for confirmation in Peter's intently downcast eyes. "You spent last night in our old dormitory, for Merlin's sake!"

"Wait," Adam interjected. "Your old dormitory?"

"We lived there," Remus replied impatiently, "Peter and I, until four years ago. We carved our names in the bedposts."

Adam quickly did the maths. "Nineteen seventy-eight...seventy-one....That makes you... the Marauders!"

Remus smiled fondly. He could almost imagine Prongs and Padfoot proudly announcing, "Our legend lives on!"

"But how did he know the Weasleys?" Adam addressed Remus, seemingly unable to speak to his friend's pet rat as an adult.

"From the work we did...." Remus turned back to Peter. "You knew that Arthur would be among the first to receive any news if Voldemort--" the others flinched, "--ever returned. You wanted to stay close. Why didn't you tell anyone, though? That's what I don't understand. Why let us all think that you were dead?" He no longer tried to hide the confusion from his voice.

It doesn't make sense.

"I was afraid," Peter said finally.

"You have nothing to be afraid of."

Peter looked sceptical.

"We could have protected you," Remus continued earnestly. "We still can."

"Like you protected Lily and James?"

Remus recoiled. "The traitor is gone," he managed to say before his voice cracked.

Peter did not respond, but a heavy silence filled the room. He shifted uncomfortably, looking out the high, warded windows. Remus' heart fluttered silently as he waited for a response.

But Peter, squirming uncomfortably, refused to meet his gaze. "He... he... said. He thought it was you. You were one of them." Peter's last words came out in a rush.

Remus' breath stopped in his throat. His chest tightened painfully. "You think I'm here to kill you?"

"You're what?" began Adam, suddenly wary. He was silenced by a look from Remus.

"Are you?" Peter asked, eyes unnaturally wide.

"Of course not. No." Remus quieted his emotions and smiled at his old friend. "Peter. You, and James, Lily... and Sirius... were my friends. You were my best -- my only -- friends in the world."

"You have no idea how powerful he was, or who he owned."

"Voldemort?"

Both Pettigrew and Adam Diggory flinched again. Remus frowned.

"Don't say his name," Peter whispered, now looking truly afraid. "You have no idea."

"I lived through it, too, Pete. It was huge and terrible. I do understand."

Again the others were silent. Peter wore a look that was becoming all too familiar. It said that he would like to refute the statement but felt it wiser to hold his tongue. It was an expression Remus had never seen on him before, a face of carefully hidden guile and deceit. Peter moved like a stranger who wore his friend's guise; he wasn't the person with whom Remus had celebrated Harry's birthday less than a year before, wearing a silly, glittery hat and helping the baby to blow out his candle.

And then his face shifted. He was just Peter again, shy and a little bit awkward, looking at the ground and shuffling his feet. Just Peter.

"My work for the Order, is that why you thought I was the spy?" Remus asked softly.

"It wasn't me who thought so. It was him."

"Who, James?" Remus asked, dreading the answer.

"No, Sirius. He said--"

Remus shook his head. He did not want to know what Sirius had said.

Adam gasped. "Sirius Bl--"

"You're safe now," Remus interjected quickly, talking over Adam's words once more.

Peter again responded with a look of deepest scepticism. Still, Remus did not understand the expression, did not understand why Peter wouldn't meet his eyes.

Adam's face was scrunched with the effort of following a conversation he only half-understood. "So you didn't work for You-Know-Who?" he finally asked.

Peter looked up quickly at the boy.

"No," Remus said firmly.

Sirius had told Peter that Remus was the traitor, clearly to throw Peter off his own trail. But that didn't explain why Peter continued to fear Remus.

"You should see your family," Remus said to break the silence that crackled in the room like a live wire looking for a connection. "They miss you."

Peter nodded distractedly.

"If you think you're still in danger, we could perform a Fidelius Charm to protect you." Remus suggested. "I've studied them, you know, since--"

"What's a Fidelius--" Adam asked.

"Just hide the little red secret -- just like the Potters did?" Peter interrupted sharply, shaking his head. "It doesn't work, Remus. You can't hide, not from him, not from them."

"It can work. You can trust... Red?" A shiver ran down Remus' spine. He spoke carefully, "I don't understand."

But he did. In the first weeks of November, he'd spent countless hours in the dusty corners of Liberagus, exhaustively researching Fidelius Charms in the hopes of finding some shred of evidence that would exonerate Sirius. He had learned that one could not be a Secret-Keeper while under the Imperius Curse, that the traitor had acted of his own free will. He had confirmed that the house must have been hidden, not the people in it, as he suspected when he learned that Hagrid had found the baby in the ruins. He had also discovered that destroying the building would not completely break the spell; there were shreds of the secret still hidden away.

Finally, he had learned the steps required to cast a Fidelius. At the crucial moment, the disembodied secret floated between souls. Only the Secret-Keeper could see it. Each secret was unique, and only the Keeper knew what it looked like.

"Red?" Remus repeated.

"I, er..." Peter stammered, "I heard that they're red."

Sirius had told Peter that he suspected Remus.

Sirius had made certain Remus believed that he was the Secret-Keeper.

I have the need to put my confession in writing, Peter had written.

Peter had seen the Potters' little red secret glowing as the spell was cast.

And five days later, the Potters were dead.

"What's red? Fid-what Charms?" Adam's voice interrupted Remus' thoughts.

"Oh," he replied distractedly. "Yes."

Peter is the traitor.

"Do you really think you can hide me?" Peter asked suspiciously.

Sirius had seen the wreckage at Godric's Hollow. Sirius was the only living person -- other than the traitor himself -- who knew what had really happened.

"Yes, of course," Remus answered brightly, trying to sound naively confident.

Peter's room was undisturbed. He had known that Sirius would come for him. He had wanted Sirius to come.

He had waited for Sirius in Lingonberry Lane.

Ah, what I would have done to him, if I'd reached him first; what I would do to him if he were still alive.... Malfoy had sent his mercenaries to Peter's known haunts, just in case he had survived Sirius' revenge.

Peter was hiding from the remaining Death Eaters because he had betrayed them, too.

Remus swallowed hard and waited for Peter to answer.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked again. His eyes darted to the door, to the boy who was still watching in wide-eyed silence, then back to Remus.

Remus' heart began pounding. Peter is the traitor -- it was Peter --

Sirius is innocent.

The words echoed in Remus' mind.

He fought to keep his expression neutral; his breath came quick and shallow. Sirius is innocent! The traitor was in front of him.

He had to incapacitate Wormtail. Sirius is innocent! Was the rat armed? Sirius, I found the rat! Remus casually slipped his hand into the pocket of his robes. The Remembrall rolled between his fingers, his wand beside it, warm and ready to duel.

Peter's eyes flicked down to Remus's hand and his body stiffened. He glanced quickly at the young boy standing between them.

"Would you get me my wand, if I asked you?" Peter asked. Unarmed, then. But his eyes flicked to where Adam's hand had dropped, wand dangling towards the ground, fingers relaxed in an enticingly loose fist.

Remus' own fingers closed around the wand in his pocket. Was he fast enough? Perhaps. Would he risk Adam? No.

He had an idea.

"... because I do know of a place," Peter was saying, "that I, we, could go."

"Was he here?" muttered Remus.

"He?" Peter looked at Remus, his concentration broken for an instant.

Remus pulled the glowing orb from his pocket. Brilliant, blazing light filled the room, and Remus tossed the glass into the air. Half-blinded, Peter's eyes involuntarily tracked the golden arc cutting through the space between them. He automatically reached his hand out to catch the old Remembrall, which shone brighter every inch it neared him.

"Stupefy!"

Peter's form crumpled, a dark silhouette in the light of his own Remembrall, now rolling across the floor. Remus crossed the room in two steps, quickly conjuring ropes to bind Peter's inert form as he pocketed the orb. He knelt over Peter, feeling for a pulse, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Hearing a small noise behind him, Remus turned. He was looking down the shaft of a shaking wand.

"You... you... you attacked him!" Adam burst. "For no reason!"

"No, Adam," he tried to keep his voice calm. "I had plenty of reasons."

"He was hiding from you! He thought you were dangerous. You said you would protect him, and you stunned him instead! You're working for You-Know-Who." The young boy spat his words.

Remus replied, as coolly as he could, "Adam, you don't understand," and he slowly pocketed his wand.

"There," he said, holding up his hands. "You're armed. I'm not. Now, may I tell you a story?"