Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Albus Dumbledore Harry Potter Remus Lupin Sirius Black Severus Snape
Genres:
Action Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 01/12/2003
Updated: 05/03/2003
Words: 102,224
Chapters: 28
Hits: 39,099

Death Before Dishonor

RobinLady

Story Summary:
After being rescued from the Dursleys by Sirius, Harry finds that there ``are still plenty of ways for Voldemort to catch him--and that his life ``may have to be bought at a very high price. Set in fifth year and the ``summer before it.

Chapter 25

Chapter Summary:
After being rescued from the Dursleys by Sirius, Harry finds that there are still plenty of ways for Voldemort to catch him--and that his life may have to be bought at a very high price. Set in fifth year and the summer before it. {This Chapter: Decisions are made and forgotten truths surface}
Posted:
04/20/2003
Hits:
1,029

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR

Chapter Twenty-Five: Tactical Withdrawal

For a split second, Harry hesitated.

He started at Wormtail. Stared at the man who had betrayed his parents, who had damned his godfather to twelve years of hell in Azkaban. He stared at the man who had resurrected Voldemort and had plunged the magical world into fear and darkness. For one moment, he allowed himself to dream about what might have been. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd dipped into that particular realm of fantasy--heck, as a child, he'd spent lonely hours on end dreaming about what his parents might have been like--but this time was different. He was staring at the man he had stopped Sirius and Remus from killing, and he wondered why. Harry wondered why he had stopped them at all.

And he wondered if he shouldn't finish the job.

His hand tightened on Wormtail's wand. It would be so easy. Two words, and his parents would be avenged...two little words, and the entire magical world would be avenged on Peter Pettigrew. It was so tempting...but then he remembered Dumbledore's words. The headmaster had said that someday he'd be thankful for saving Wormtail's life, which hadn't so far been true, but still could be. And he also remembered his own words about how he didn't think his father would have wanted Sirius and Remus to become murderers just for Peter. What about me, Dad? he thought to himself. Would you want me to avenge you? Harry's heart hit rock bottom as he thought of a face that he remembered only from pictures. No, he knew. Dad wouldn't want me to, either.

With a sigh, Harry turned away. This wasn't over, but Peter Pettigrew wasn't his to kill. Not now.

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"I can't believe you got to watch the battle," Ron grumbled. "It must have been brilliant."

"Ron, grow up!" Hermione snapped. "It was dangerous--Professor Flitwick died! Is excitement all you can think about?"

"No. I was just saying--" Ron felt his stomach drop. Somehow, he always managed to make her angry, saying things that he hadn't meant to say...and expressing himself in all the wrong ways. He took a deep breath and swallowed his pride. "Look, I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean it like that. I just was worried about you, that's all."

Her face abruptly changed from angry to understanding, and she smiled. "I understand, Ron," Hermione said quietly. "I'm worried about Harry, too."

I'm not talking about Harry, you dumb girl. "Yeah," Ron agreed. "I hope he's okay. And I'm glad that you are, too."

"Thanks. I'll stay closer in the future, okay?"

"You'd better," Ron growled. Because I'm not losing you too. But he forced a smile. "Anyway, what do you think of what Professor Lupin said earlier? Do you really think they'll let us fight?"

"I don't know, Ron," she sighed. "I mean, it seems so dangerous to bring us into this--but we are a part of the war already, aren't we? And Hogwarts is our school, too. If Professor Dumbledore thinks we can help, I'm willing. Hogwarts is worth fighting for."

"And I'd rather make a difference than sit here and hide," he agreed quietly.

Hermione smiled sadly. "Me, too. I just hope it doesn't come to that."

"No kidding." Ron swallowed; suddenly it was hard to breathe. "You know, Hermione...no matter what comes, I'll be proud to face it--with you."

She stared at him, her eyes widening. Finally, just when Ron thought he'd really screwed this one up, she replied, "And I with you, Ron. I'm glad you're my friend."

Friend. What a mild word for this insane pounding in my heart.

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Every step brought him closer to Hogwarts.

But his feet were moving slower. It was getting harder. He was so tired...with a start, Harry bounced off one of the walls. He'd stumbled and run into it without even realizing in the darkness. Of course, he could have used Wormtail's wand for light, as he had earlier, but Harry didn't think he could chance doing so. If someone else was following him, the light would alert them to his presence. It was better to stay hidden, even if it meant running into things. Sure, Harry, an obnoxious little voice in his head commented, keep telling yourself that. Of course you're running into things because it's dark. That has nothing to do with the fact that you're dead on your feet.

He stumbled. Harry couldn't think of a part of his body that didn't hurt. But he was getting there. He really was. Hogwarts couldn't be much further, now...and if it was, Harry didn't want to know. He wasn't sure how much further his body would let him go, and he didn't know any useful healing spells, or at least nothing that would help him at the moment. In some ways, he was glad for the dark, because at least then he couldn't see his hands shaking. If anyone had asked him, Harry would have denied it, but he was honest enough to admit to himself that he was exhausted. His breathing was loud even in his own ears, and it was getting hard to make his legs move.

But "quit" wasn't a word that Harry Potter had ever included in his vocabulary, and he wasn't about to start now.

He was concentrating so hard that he almost didn't hear the second set of running footsteps coming from behind him. He almost missed everything, but at the last moment, Harry's Quidditch-trained reflexes served him well, and as he heard the voice, he threw himself to one side, watching light and power splinter in the air. The voice was masculine, recognizable; it matched the silhouette illuminated in the slight glow of the other's wand--but he didn't have time for thought. Only for reaction. What was it that Sirius had said? "In the real world, rules don't apply. Trust your instincts." And so he did.

"Expelliarmus!"

There was an enraged grunt, then a curse, and the light disappeared. But nothing else happened, and Harry was smart enough to know that his spell hadn't worked, which meant that whoever he was facing was a very powerful wizard who'd been expecting the attack. The next words, spoken in a harsh voice, were enough to confirm that suspicion. "Imperio!"

But the darkness was his friend. All on its own, the spell missed, and Harry quickly cried, "Impedimenta!"

He didn't know if it worked. Harry only turned and ran. He made it one step, then two, and finally a third and fourth. The fifth made him think that he might actually make it, might escape Voldemort's clutches and whatever awful plans the Dark Lord had for him. As his feet pounded on the dirt floor, a sense of triumph began to surge within Harry--

And his mind could not react quickly enough as Lucius Malfoy cried, "Stupefy!" and all the world went dark.

----------------------

They were too late.

The moment the dot labeled "Harry Potter" appeared in the Honeydukes tunnel, Remus had headed straight for the one-eyed witch. He'd sent Fred Weasley to fetch Sirius and Dumbledore, and had taken George with him (both Weasley twins had been the ones on watch over the Marauder's Map and the Gatekeeper's Guide, duties for which they were uniquely suited), but the wards took time to unravel. Too much time--they'd been painstakingly built so that even Dumbledore couldn't pull them down with a word, because there was no way that a Death Eater and Dementors were going to worm their way into the castle again. Now, however, those precautions had turned against them.

Even as Dumbledore finally brought the wards down (in much less time than they had been designed to go, too, which meant that the headmaster would have to rebuild the wards he had just destroyed), the dots labeled "Lucius Malfoy" and "Harry Potter" went still. Then Remus cursed as the two began rapidly moving back down the tunnel towards Honeydukes. They would never catch them.

"Let's go," Sirius said quickly, ducking into the passageway.

Remus gestured at the map, feeling sick. The Weasley twins stood on either side of the History professor, looking as angry and heart-broken as he felt. We've failed Harry. "It's too late."

"Perhaps not." Dumbledore's blue eyes glittered coldly. "There may still be time." The headmaster disappeared into the tunnel as well.

Part of Remus wanted to snap back, time for what? However, he restrained himself. He'd hoped once, earlier, that they might be in time, and now it was so clear that they couldn't be...but Dumbledore was right. And Remus didn't know how to quit any more than Sirius did, especially where Harry was concerned. Quickly, he slipped through the one-eyed witch's hump, followed by Fred and George, who he would never have dreamed of telling to stay behind. Besides, he was sure they wouldn't listen.

The group sprinted down the passageway, led by the light from Sirius' wand. Although the ex-Auror set a quick pace, Remus was surprised to see that Dumbledore didn't have a problem keeping up--but then again, the old headmaster was full of surprises, and Remus had never known him to fail at anything. So he followed close on the headmaster's heels, acutely aware of Fred and George behind him, and praying that he was wrong. Unfortunately, the fact that he held the Marauder's Map in his hand did not do much to convince him of that, and as Remus glanced at it one more time, he could see, even in the dim light, that Malfoy had almost reached Honeydukes, whereas they were still not even half way there. A dozen steps later, Harry was out of reach, back in Voldemort's domain, and Remus opened his mouth to let the others know when Sirius let out a startled curse.

Remus skidded to a stop to avoid running into Dumbledore, who had apparently smashed right into his friend's back when Sirius had come to a halt without warning. The reflexes of Fred and George Weasley, too, proved inadequate, and they slammed into Remus, who staggered but caught himself quickly. The twins went down in a tangle but recovered and jumped to their feet as Sirius snarled over his shoulder, "Thanks for the warning, Remus."

There was a thunk as the ex-Auror kicked something--hard, by the sound of it. Remus moved forward to see what it was, then was struck by a thought, and glanced back down at the Marauder's Map. Sure enough, there was another dot in the passage, labeled "Peter Pettigrew." Rage welled up within him as the wolf bayed for his old friend's blood, but Remus smacked it down, looking once more for Harry. That suspicion, too, was correct. He was gone. The history professor could have pulled out the Gatekeeper's Guide to make sure that Harry was still in Honeydukes, but he didn't want to bother. He just didn't want to know.

Finally, Remus stepped up beside Dumbledore. "They're gone," he said quietly.

"I thought as much," the headmaster confirmed.

Sirius, however, sighed, making Remus look at his friend. Sirius' face was illuminated harshly in the light from his wand, making him look paler than he should have been--but there was no mistaking the murder in his blue eyes. Oh, he had it under control, unlike that night in the Shrieking Shack, when Sirius had been anything but controlled, but the hatred in Sirius' expression was a twin for the rage that Remus had so ruthlessly suppressed only moments before. The werewolf knew that his friend was thinking exactly what he was, too. This bastard killed James and Lily. He's the reason that Harry has no parents. He betrayed us all, forsook our trust--and he's the reason why Harry's life has been hell.

Bastard. I loved you like a brother.

James loved you. Lily loved you. Sirius loved you. Harry would have loved you--and this is how you repay years of friendship and trust! We promised to be loyal until the end, brothers because family isn't defined by blood, and here you are. I'd kill you if it would bring James and Lily back. In a heartbeat.

Sirius' rattling breath brought him back to reality, and Remus knew how hard it was for his friend to keep his voice level. "Should we bring him back with us?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. His voice was quiet as he mumbled the spell that caused the unconscious Death Eater to hover in the air. "Peter may yet be of use."

At the very least, he owes us answers.

----------------------

Harry awoke to pain, and he knew that he'd been caught. His scar was burning, and that could only mean one thing. It took his foggy mind a moment to remember what had happened, but then it all came back to him in a rush--the feeling of success, running away, Malfoy's voice, and then blackness--he groaned. He'd failed.

"Good morning, Harry," the mocking voice hissed. "I'm so glad to have you back with us."

For a moment, he contemplated keeping his eyes closed and acting like a little kid (If I can't see him, he can't see me, right?), but it would have been no use. Acting like that would have been beneath him, too, so Harry forced his eyes open to stare at Lord Voldemort. "Sorry if I can't say the same."

"Crucio!"

Pain. Harry had been expecting it, but of course, that hadn't stopped him. Maybe it hurt, but it felt good to stand up to Voldemort. Doing anything less would have dishonored his parents' sacrifice. Abruptly, it ended.

His throat hurt from screaming.

"Harry, Harry...when are you going to learn manners?"

Never. But he bit his tongue. Responses would get him in trouble, and his throat hurt too much to manage anything witty. So Harry just stared at the man who had been his enemy since before he was old enough to understand why. He'd almost made it, and he wasn't going to break. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

"I can see you're proving less than cooperative," the Dark Lord hissed angrily.

"Oops." Harry couldn't stop himself.

It might have been funny if it hadn't hurt so much. The next few minutes was a blur--in truth, Harry didn't even know how long it had been; it could have lasted hours--but in the end, Voldemort handed him over to Lucius Malfoy and another group of Death Eaters, who were to be responsible for his "lessons" in manners. It was hell.

----------------------

"Hello, Peter."

Peter awoke on a bed, unrestrained--for a moment, that led him to think that he was back in his own home, or even inside the rooms he had taken in Hogsmeade--but the quiet and dignified voice that had spoken robbed him of all hopes. Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring at the seated wizard with fear. It was Dumbledore.

Peter sat up, glancing quickly around the room. As far as he could tell, he was in some of the castle's guest chambers; the furnishing was nice, tasteful, and ornate, typical of Hogwarts--but the room had no windows. He noticed that immediately. Obviously, they didn't want him taking flight all of a sudden, and had made sure that the door was the only way out. Nervous, he glanced that way, but saw that the door was shut. In fact, there was no one else in the room. Only Dumbledore. He was alone with the only wizard that the Dark Lord had ever feared. He was a prisoner. The old man was watching him closely. Surely, they expected him to talk.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts," the headmaster said calmly.

Peter took a deep breath to calm himself, and said quickly, "Whatever you want from me, I won't tell you anything."

The old man smiled, which for some reason, made a shiver run down Peter's spine. "There is nothing I want from you, Peter," Dumbledore replied. "Although there are some that I feel certain you owe answers to, I am not among them."

"Don't let them near me!" Fear seized up in his throat.

"Why not?" the headmaster wondered idly. "Do you think they would harm you?"

"They tried to kill me!" He wished his hands weren't shaking. I'm going to die. Sirius is going to kill me. Remus is going to kill me. There was no avoiding it, he knew. Dumbledore is going to let them.

"So they did." The piercing blue eyes hardened. "Yet they were stopped by the boy whose parents you betrayed...a boy you have now delivered into Voldemort's hands." Peter shivered as Dumbledore spoke the Dark Lord's name without so much as flinching. The headmaster's lips curled into an ironic smile. "An admirable way of fulfilling your debts, eh Peter?"

Peter squirmed nervously, unable to meet that gaze. "You don't understand."

"Make me understand." There was nothing gentle in the voice now. Peter had never been frightened of Albus Dumbledore before this moment, had never seen the old man at the height of his powers--but now the hard demand made him shiver. He almost responded, almost spilled everything, but then he remembered. He remembered what he was, who he owed his loyalties to. Peter Pettigrew had thrown away his ties to the light side of magic over fifteen years ago when he had betrayed James and Lily Potter. Everything he had lay on the other side.

"No," he said uneasily. "I owe you nothing."

"Very well." Dumbledore rose. "You will find that I am a kinder host than your master. You will come to no harm while you are in my care." The old man had reached the door; his hand was on its knob. "You will remain here until it ends, one way or another."

He had to ask, but his voice came out in a shaky whisper. "Why?"

"Because I am not Voldemort. Nor are your former friends." Peter didn't know why, but he winced at the word former. He'd trusted them once, been trusted...it had been so long ago that he'd forgotten what it was like to be cared for. The memories of his school days were tattered and faded like a cloak that had been neglected and forgotten for so many years. Intellectually, he knew the life he had taken on could never equal the one he had given up, but he had to believe that he'd chosen the right path, the winning side. Peter was tired of being the sniveling and whining underdog. He was tired of having others protect him. He wanted to have others fear him for once. He didn't want to have to hide.

Dumbledore opened the door. "Oh, and Peter--thank you."

"For what?" He knew he was staring stupidly at the headmaster, but he couldn't help himself. Why was Dumbledore thanking him? But the old man smiled, and his eyes glinted like sharpened steel.

"For carrying Harry's wand in your pocket. I don't know what Voldemort was thinking, giving that to you, but I assure you that it will be put to good use."


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Author's Note: Hello once more... There aren't too many chapters left to go, but here's the next one. For those of you who are interested and/or worried, no this isn't turning into a romance...but there isn't anything that says such things can't happen. Stay tuned for "Mortality" and please review!