Secret Keeper

Chapter Four:

October 25, 1981

James stared at Lily with a horrified expression on his face. “They – they wouldn’t – not – not Remus and Peter,” he stammered. “W-would they?”

“Dumbledore said it was one of our close friends!” Lily snapped. “And I very much doubt it would be Sirius, otherwise we’d all be dead by now! So who else, other than Remus or Peter?”

James looked at her, aghast. “B-but – wh-who?”

Lily sighed deeply. “I really don’t know, I really don’t. I don’t want to believe that it’s either of them, but – but Sirius seemed to suspect Remus, and you know he wouldn’t be suspicious unless he had an excellent reason, would he?”

“I dunno, I don’t think it could be Remus – I just can’t see him working for Voldemort,” James said slowly. “But then, I can’t see Peter doing that either.”

“I know, but it’s got to be one of them, Dumbledore was sure of it.”

“D’you suppose he could be wrong for once, Lily?” James asked curiously, looking at his wife. “You know, no one’s perfect.”

Lily stared at her husband. “I sincerely hope that Dumbledore is wrong this time, James,” she said. “For Sirius’ sake and ours.” She picked Harry up out of the cradle and held him closely to her, her head swimming with thoughts.

Which one? she thought to herself. Who was it? Remus or Peter?

Remus? Or Peter...

Peter Pettigrew sat at home staring at a small slip of parchment in his hands. Sirius’ address. Number six, Chester Lane. This was the sort of information he knew would be valuable to his master, very valuable. But yet...

Something was holding him back. Something was keeping Peter Pettigrew from delivering this information to Voldemort, from giving him the information that Peter knew would be greatly appreciated. The feeling wasn’t guilt... guilt was something that Peter had never in his life felt before...

Fear. The feeling was fear. Peter shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him if anyone ever found out what he was doing, what he was going to do. James would kill him. He knew he couldn’t keep the secret forever, but being disemboweled by an angry James Potter was something that he did not want to happen any time soon.

Peter fingered the parchment carefully, deep in thought. He drew in a sharp breath. No point in debating with myself, he thought quietly, he’ll find out where Sirius is hiding anyways. May as well make it now. He grabbed a quill from the corner of his desk. His hand trembling, he wrote at the top of the parchment ‘Sirius Black’s address.’ Nervously, he folded the parchment and stuffed it into an envelope, which he then labeled ‘Master.’ Shaking violently, he tied this envelope on to the leg of a small gray owl, who promptly took off and soared into the night sky. Peter watched it fade into the distance.

Approximately fifty miles away, a tiny gray owl flew threw a dirty, grimy window and perched itself on the back of a red velvet armchair. Slowly, a hand with unnaturally long fingers reached out and untied the letter from the owl’s leg. Hooting, it took off, flying out the same window through which it had entered. The hand’s owner stared down at the envelope for a few silent seconds, stared at the word ‘Master’ written shakily across the front. Then, using the tip of his wand, he slit the letter open.

Sirius Black’s address.

Slowly, Voldemort’s face cracked into an evil grin. “Lucius,” he called imperiously, “come here. I require your assistance.”

The figure of a slightly stooped man emerged from the darkness. Lucius Malfoy bowed deeply at Voldemort’s feet. “Yes, Master?”

Voldemort let the slip of parchment drop lazily to the ground. Hurriedly, Malfoy picked it up and read the information on it. Comprehension dawning on his face, he bowed even lower than before, and asked, “Shall I capture him, Master?”

“You capture him? You? As capable as I believe you to be, Lucius, you must know that this mission is of utmost importance to me. It cannot be – bungled. I am not entrusting you to single-handedly capture Black,” Voldemort said, looking amused. “You will take Bellatrix and Dolohov with you.”

“Yes, my Lord,” murmured Malfoy. He gave a deep nod in his master’s direction, and then swept away silently. Chuckling to himself, Voldemort redirected his attention to the envelope, which was still resting on the arm of the chair.

“My, my, Wormtail,” he said, laughing to himself, “I always knew your presence would come in handy sometime, but even I did not ever imagine that you would make yourself this useful. Well done, well done.” With a sweep of his arm, he sent the empty envelope fluttering to the floor.

His eyes were alight with anticipation. “Soon, soon,” he whispered to himself. “Soon, I will have you exactly where I want you. I will have you exactly where I want you, and you will tell me everything, Sirius Black, you will tell me everything.”

You will tell me everything, Sirius Black.

Tired and exhausted, Sirius collapsed on to the bed. He had just dragged his trunk from Godric’s Hollow all the way to this god-forsaken place. The muscles in his arms were screaming in complaint. Oh well, he thought to himself. This place isn’t half bad, for an old Muggle house at least.

Not bothering to remove his clothing, Sirius curled the blankets more tightly around his body. His trunk lay abandoned in a corner of the room. He would take care of it later. More important things came first. Things like rest. He shifted slightly on the bed. He had almost fallen asleep, when-

Bam!

He sat up with a jolt as he heard a loud banging noise issuing from downstairs. It was undeniably the sound of a door being forced open. Silently, he tiptoed out of the room and peered down the stairs. Three figures clad in black robes and donning masks were walking through his doorway.

Death Eaters.

Oh Merlin! Sirius thought desperately, How had the Death Eaters managed to find him here, here of all places? Not that it mattered too much now. Now, the only thing that mattered was Sirius getting out of the house.

He looked around. There was nowhere to go, no other exit save the door through which the Death Eaters had entered. He silently cursed himself for putting anti-Apparation charms on the house – what was he thinking? He peered down again. The three Death Eaters had already begun to climb up the stairs. Sirius scowled. Damn. It seemed as if he were left with only one option...

Quickly, he darted back into his makeshift bedroom. He dashed over to the window and kicked it open.

“What was that?” he heard one of the Death Eaters ask in a voice that was undoubtedly Lucius Malfoy’s.

“It was Black!” a female voice shrieked. Sirius groaned. The last person he needed to see right now was his Death Eater-cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Black.

The Death Eaters came closer. Sirius placed one hand on each side of the window and hoisted himself up. He was on the roof. Gingerly, he placed one foot out in front of him and took a step forward. One wrong move and he would fall.

“He’s climbing out the window!” shouted a male voice that Sirius didn’t recognize.

“Yes, I realize that, Dolohov!” Malfoy hissed coldly. “And it’s our job to make sure he doesn’t escape that way!”

Sirius’ shoulders tensed slightly as he heard this. Struggling to keep his balance, he tottered forward, determined to make it. If I can just get to the next house, he thought, I can Apparate on out of here. Feeling slightly panicked now, Sirius began to move faster. Can’t let them get me.

Malfoy, Dolohov, and Bellatrix and followed Sirius on to the roof. “Give it up, Black!” Malfoy snarled, pointing his wand at the other man. “Crucio!”

Sirius fought the instinct to roll his eyes. The man was entirely too predictable. Using his hand to steady himself on the slanted rooftop, Sirius ducked as Malfoy’s curse went whizzing by his shoulder. He grasped the shingles of the roof firmly, about to pull himself up and throw a good hex or two at Malfoy, when-

“Stupefy!” This was Bellatrix. Sirius leaned backward to avoid the Stunning Spell that his cousin had just shot at him. As his back arched, his right foot slipped out from under him, causing him to lose his balance. Damn.

Sirius tumbled off the roof of number six, Chester Lane.

His body never hit the ground.