Sirius Betrayal

The harshness of Sirius’s own voice startled him. It was a far cry from his old pre-Azkaban voice, melodic and mesmerizing to girls. He now spoke in low, grating tones. When he spoke at all. But who could he speak to? He was locked in a wizarding prison. Since there had been no trial, he didn’t know officially, but he was pretty sure that Crouch had thrown away the key. Even rats were terrified of the Azkaban dementors, the terrifying guards that kept the prisoners trapped in their nightmares.

He looked through the barred window. Outside, the night sky spilled about, amazingly infinite for someone who was spending a lifetime paying for the betrayal his best friends. Sirius spotted a familiar constellation, and laughed without amusement. Ironic, wasn’t it? The Dog Star was outside and he was locked in.

Sirius remembered back. Wormtail. It was all his fault. The rat had turned out to be, in fact, a rat. What Sirius didn’t understand was why. It was his fault it had happened. Why had Peter decided to punish James and Lily? Not to mention Harry.

It was a beautiful spring day, more like June than April. The fifteen year-old Marauders, plus Lily, were out on the Quidditch pitch. James, the daredevil Chaser, swooped around Lily, who was sitting on the ground, hands firmly over her eyes. Lily’s paralyzing fear of heights made any flying whatsoever a trial. Even though her boyfriend was undoubtedly skilled, Lily couldn’t bear to watch. Remus, ever the sensitive one, sat by her side.

Sirius and Peter, the Gryffindor team’s Beaters, were fooling around with a Bludger.

“Over here!” yelled Sirius, as Wormtail swung. Unfortunately, the Bludger changed its course in midair, heading directly towards Remus and Lily.

“Look out!” shouted Peter. Lily and Remus jumped out of the way just in time to avoid impromptu plastic surgery. “That was close!” Peter exclaimed, hovering over a distraught Lily being comforted by James. Peter jumped off, and joined them. “I’m sorry, Lils.”

Lily smiled at him. The shortest Marauder was nonetheless handsome, with sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a muscular, Quidditch- worked body. His easy smile and willingness to listen made him everyone’s friend. “It’s okay, Peter. I was just startled.”

Sirius, flying loop-de-loops over head, glanced down. The Bludger was rocketing around him, doing its best to send him crashing to the ground. He was mostly just hitting it randomly, but then he was struck with an idea: Let’s see just how good Wormtail’s reflexes are, shall we?

Sirius swung at the Bludger, sending it in Peter’s direction. “Heads up!” he yelled. Unfortunately, it was too late. The blonde boy barely had time to look up before the heavy black ball crashed into the side of his knee.

“Ahh!” he yelled in pain and surprise. He went sprawling to the ground, clutching his leg. The Bludger sped away, seemingly with a cackle.

Sirius and Remus sped towards Peter. James and Lily were kneeling beside him. Wormtail’s face had gone pale, and he was gritting his teeth.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Lily intoned, pointing her wand at Peter. The injured boy floated up obediently. “I think his knee’s broken,” she said,”he’ll have to go to the hospital wing.”

The Marauders walked with their fallen comrade. On their arrival at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey, a new staff member, rushed over to them. “What happened?” she asked.

“He got hit with a Bludger,” Remus answered, ”on the knee.”

Madame Pomfrey clucked in disapproval. “When will you children learn? Quidditch is a dangerous game!” She inspected Peter’s knee. James grimaced; it had turned red and seemed to be facing the wrong direction. “Oh, I don’t like this one bit,” Madame Pomfrey said, “that’s a nasty fracture, and there’s nothing I can do magically. It could take a month to heal. No more Quidditch for you, boy.”

“What?!!” three voices exclaimed in unison. Peter looked horrified. James was similarly shocked and Sirius was dumbfounded. “Who’ll be our other Beater? We have our Ravenclaw game next week, and Padfoot can’t do it by himself!” Peter said.

James, the team captain, cleared his throat. “Well, we do have a reserve. Mundungus Fletcher isn’t as good as you, but I guess he’ll have to do.”

Lily then broke into the Quidditch talk. “Madame Pomfrey, do you mean Peter won’t be able to walk for a month?

“That’s exactly what I mean, and I frankly don’t think all this excitement is helping him heal,” she gestured toward the exit,” the lot of you, out! The only time I want to see one of you is when you’re bringing Pettigrew his school work.” Madame Pomfrey firmly ushered out James, Sirius, and Lily.

“It’s all my fault,” Sirius said, breaking the silence as they trudged back to the Gryffindor tower.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” James said,” Bludgers do that. It’s not your fault at all.”

But I hit it towards him on purpose, Sirius thought, it’s all my fault. Sirius didn’t say it, but he knew it. And from the look in Peter’s eyes as they had left the hospital wing, Peter knew it too.

Peter had had to spend a full month in the hospital wing. He was not allowed to leave for anything, even being forced to watch Quidditch matches from his window. Although he was able to walk again, Wormtail was under strict orders to never play Quidditch again. Getting that knee rebroken would cause the evanescence of his mobility. The lack of daily training sessions and Quidditch games caused Wormtail’s hard muscles to soften and spread. He started chubby and ended fat.

After the accident, though the Marauders were still friends with Peter, it was different from before. Although Peter was, of course, still a part of their late-night excursions, the Marauders did not see as much of him during the day. Sirius and James tirelessly practiced Quidditch, while Remus and Lily experimented with obscure charms they found in the Restricted Section. Peter was by himself more and more.

Azkaban guards knew that wizards could not survive without contact with others, hence prisoners’ solitary cells. A month by himself changed Peter. Around his friends, Peter still acted easygoing, with his open grin, but Sirius knew something was wrong. Maybe it was leftover from his dog transformations, but Sirius somehow sensed that it was all a farce. Sometimes, Wormtail got a strange look in his eyes. Instead of his amiable nature, there was a certain blankness. And coldness. At those times, Padfoot didn’t recognize his friend. Sirius knew that Peter had changed, and it was all his fault.

Years later, Sirius faced Peter. Onlookers gasped as Peter yelled. “Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?!”

Before Sirius could speak, the entire street was rocked by an explosion. People started screaming when they saw the obviously dead surrounding Sirius. Padfoot no longer saw Peter; he saw a group of rats running for a sewer grate. One of them had a very obvious wound where a toe was supposed to be.

Now, almost twelve years later, Padfoot still recalled the look in Wormtail’s eyes right before he transformed. It was a look of enjoyment and cruelty, but more than anything else, it said this: Payback, Padfoot. This is payback.

The next morning, Sirius awoke to the Minister of Magic outside his cell. His heart quickened as he saw the picture of the front page of Fudge’s Daily Prophet. Perched on an obviously Weasley-esque shoulder was a creature he recognized. He borrowed the paper from Fudge, and fell asleep with the article clutched in his fist. Unknowingly, he spoke in his sleep: “He’s at Hogwarts”. His mind buzzed with all kinds of plans.

Now it would be his turn for payback.