Promises Remembered

Promises Remembered

The Sequel to Promises Unbroken

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Death Before Dishonor

He was halfway through the sandwich when Frank Longbottom walked through the half-open kitchen doorway, his wide-shouldered build obscuring the view of the wheelchair bound wizard behind him. Sirius, however, would have known that voice anywhere.

"I told you that we'd find him here, Frank," James said too cheerfully. "Eating. And eating. And eating. As usual."

"James!" The sandwich dropped to the counter, completely forgotten. Immediately, Sirius moved forward several stiff steps, and then he stopped. There was something wrong in James' voice...and he was almost positive that he knew what.

He swallowed.

"Hello, Sirius," his friend said evenly. Between them, Frank studied both faces for less than a second, then nodded a nervous half smile at both and quickly left the kitchen. They needed to be alone.

The two stood in awkward silence for a long moment, not knowing what to say or do. Though they who had been as close as brothers for over two decades, the pair now looked upon one another as mistrustful strangers, not understanding and not willing to believe... Sirius fought against the urge to bite his lip. There was no use denying the truth. He could try to hide, but the effort would only hurt his friends in the end.

"You want to know why I did not tell you," Sirius whispered.

"Tell me?" Confusion flickered across James' drawn features. "No, I understand that you didn't have time... Wait. What are you saying?"

Sirius forced a deep breath. Saying the words a second time was no easier than the first. "He forced the Mark upon me four years ago. It was just hidden."

"What?"

He bit his lip. Sirius had faced Voldemort without fear, had fought back the Dark Lord's cold grip on his soul, but the disappointment and hurt in his friend's eyes was enough to break him. His hands wanted to shake, and the left one was shaking, albeit as much as it could with the right clamped around its wrist. Slowly and distinctly, Sirius nodded.

"You're not serious." James' face twisted with pain. "You can't be."

"I am."

For once, just once, he would have given anything to do the right thing, to have the right words to say, to be exactly what his friends needed him to be. But Sirius was still his same flawed self, with the same stupid pride and making the same stupid mistakes. Now, though, those mistakes would not end with expulsion from Hogwarts or strong words for which one could apologize later. No, this mistake ended in betrayal and broken promises.

"Then you were right," James said hollowly. "I do want to know."

Sirius hesitated, and long moments ticked by. He knew what had to be said, but somehow could not bring himself to do it. So he hesitated, and it could have been one of the worst mistakes he had ever made.

"Why didn't you tell us?" his friend whispered brokenly.

"Because I couldn't," he finally answered.

Hazel eyes stared at him. "Why not?"

"Because I couldn't bear to have you give me the look you're giving me now," Sirius responded miserably. He felt like his world had fallen apart. "Because I couldn't deal with the memories if you knew that he had forced it upon me, that I hadn't fought had enough, or long enough...and that all I am has become a lie. That it always has been."

"You..." James gaped, and for a long moment, Sirius feared that the confusion on his face would melt into anger. "You aren't a lie."

He snorted bitterly, and pried his right hand away from the Mark. Almost definitely, Sirius yanked his sleeve away and brandished it as his friend. "Am I not?"

"Merlin, Sirius..." James rolled forward until they were almost face to face. "You are everything that I wish I could be. You have given so much, and gained so little... How could you call yourself that?"

"There are some things..." He sucked in a shuddering breath. "That I don't know if even you can understand."

"I can try."

Can you? Even without James' anger, without that look of betrayal on his face, Sirius wasn't sure. Can you understand the battle that I fight in the darkness, understand how it feels to have to struggle to keep your soul out of someone else's grasp? Can you understand that it wasn't meant to be this way, and that I don't know if I can do this when the end comes? Can you really understand?

Those words, however, were the type that shattered friendships. And no matter how bitter he was, no matter how scarred Sirius was inside, he could never say them. Even if James had deserved to hear them, which he did not, Sirius could not break something so precious. The four of them had stood together for over twenty years: flaws, misunderstandings, and all. He would not break the brotherhood unless he had to. Until he had to. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath.

"I know. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell you." Sirius bit his lip again, and whispered: "I just wanted to forget."

"I understand." James nodded, but his face remained drawn. "And there is something that I should also tell you."

Something cold settled in the pit of his stomach, and Sirius felt his shoulders stiffen. "That doesn't sound good."

"It isn't," James replied grimly. "I received a letter last night..."

As his friend told the tale, Sirius watched his face more closely than he listened to James' words. The words hardly mattered--a corner of his soul had expected them, really, for quite some time. He didn't know why. He didn't know how. But there was no surprise in facing what you had always known must come.

There was only silence, bittersweet and betrayed silence. No--not betrayal from a friend, but betrayal from a world that Sirius had very nearly sacrificed everything to save, because what had began in an effort to protect his friends had become a quest to save the world. He knew why James had come, why James had to speak these words now. This truly was a day of revelations, of lies, and finally of truths. Both men had too much to share, too much to hide. Friends they were, brothers, yes, but barriers were trying to grow between them. Barriers that neither man wanted.

And so it comes.

"Had there been a vote," James finished very quietly, "I know which way it would have gone. As it stands, I am not without power to stop such an injustice."

"I would have done it," Sirius replied softly. "If you thought it was for the best."

Those words were frighteningly easy to say, and James seemed to sense that. For the slimmest of moments, Sirius thought he saw fear flash in his friend's eyes, and it would have hurt if he had not known his friend so well. James would never fear for himself, but for his family, for his world...for that, even the strongest of wizards could fear. And James had more to lose than Sirius ever would.

"I know," the Minister finally said. "But that..." He stopped, seemed to change his mind. "It wouldn't be right. And it wouldn't work."

"No. It would not."

The relief on James' face was plain.

"You thought I might go." Sirius forced himself to blink instead of staring. "You feared I would believe him."

"I..."

Run if you dare. This is not over.

Darkness reached for him, more from within his soul than from without. Yet the words came not from memory, even if the pain did. Sirius felt his eyes zero in on something in the distance, staring through James, through the walls, past the world that he lived in and into one he could not escape. Yes, there were demons in the dark, and they haunted him still. He knew that those feelings were reflected on his face, knew that his pained distance was the reason why James suddenly hesitated. But there was more to life than darkness. He had not forgotten. And he would not run.

"I know, James," he whispered. "And I know why. You don't have to explain."

"I'm sorry," his friend replied, almost pleading for understanding. Somehow, Sirius found it within himself to smile.

"So am I." Surprise flickered in the other's hazel eyes, but he continued. "I'm sorry that I would go, if I thought I had to...and break our friendship by doing so. I'm sorry that I've become something that none of us ever would have wanted to be."

"You...you're a hero, Sirius."

"I never wanted to be one." The words escaped before he could even think about them, let alone stop them. "I never meant...for things to be like this."

Because it's my choices that may very well destroy our friendship.

It's my choices that will kill my friends.

Suddenly, James' hand was tight on his elbow. "We know, Padfoot," he said gently. "Remus, Peter, and I, we understand. We always have."

"I wish I could understand."

"I think you do understand," his oldest friend replied. "I think you understand all too much."

Sirius swallowed.

"I can't pretend to know your demons, Sirius. I can't claim to understand the darkness that you carry around inside you, or the hells you have been through. But I can be here. I can stand by you.

"And I will," James said. "We all will. Come what may, and no matter how this ends, the Marauders will stand together. We won't leave you to face this alone...even if that means we must die beside you."

"James..."

"Don't say it. You don't have to. Whatever else we may be, we are brothers. We are loyal until the end."

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

The last person Peter expected to see that morning was standing on his doorstep. Never mind that he had expected to see Remus Lupin, who was a longtime friend and was certainly welcome. The man staring back at him, however, was neither a friend nor welcome--in the slightest.

"Can I help you, Severus?" he managed to say before his voice could turn into a squeak. How was it, that after so many years, Snape could still have that effect on him? He was a grown man, not a little boy whom Slytherins loved to terrorize! Moreover, he'd defied the Dark Lord, had made his own choices and his own life. Why was it that Snape's presence could still make him tremble?

"You can help me by not making me stand on your doorstep all afternoon long," the Death Eater replied acidly. "May I come in?"

Peter blinked. "Yes. Of course."

Of course NOT, but he couldn't really say that. It simply wasn't polite.

At least Snape looked uncomfortable standing in Peter's flat. Exceedingly uncomfortable, in fact. He wasn't even sneering, which had to be a landmark event--did Snape ever not sneer? Peter couldn't remember him having done so. Certainly not at Hogwarts, though it had always been hard to tell through his Death Eater's mask... Peter dragged himself out of his reverie with an effort. Snape was talking.

"...in danger."

Peter jumped, then tried to sound like he'd been paying attention. "I beg your pardon?"

"Were you even listening to me, Peter?" Snape asked testily.

"Well no, as a matter of fact, I was not," Peter retorted. "I was contemplating something else."

"Well, as a matter of fact"--Now he did sneer--"you might be interested in what I was attempting to tell you."

"And why is that?" Peter demanded.

"Because you're in danger, Pettigrew."

"What?"

Oh, he wished that his voice hadn't chosen now to squeak, for Merlin's sake! He was years past puberty, and he had no reason to fear Snape. He could face almost anyone without flinching (Voldemort excluded, but even in that regard, he had come a long way), but somehow, Snape was different. He had too many memories concerning this man to forget. Even if he could forgive.

"I came to warn you," the other repeated. "That the Dark Lord never forgets."

Shit.

Peter could only stare.

"Or so I was told." Snape shrugged slightly. "I believe, personally, that he is using your defiance and subsequent betrayal as an excuse."

"An excuse?" Peter echoed.

Snape's dark eyes bored into his. "Think."

"You've lost me."

"The prophecy, Pettigrew." Snape rolled his eyes. "The one I know Julia told all four of you about."

The prophecy that was eerily similar to a poem written by a still-innocent boy, fourteen years before.

"And he thinks that's us."

Snape snorted. "Can you honestly say that prophecy can apply to anyone else?"

"Well, no." Somehow, Peter managed to smile slightly. "But what does this have to do with me? I'd expect V-Voldemort to concentrate on Sirius. Or James. Or even Remus. Not me...yet."

"Yet?" One dark eyebrow rose. "The prophecy refers to four, not three. Not even one. Therefore, by breaking one, by eliminating one, the Dark Lord believes that he can defeat the prophecy."

"And I'm the easiest target." Something cold settled in his stomach, and Peter fought the urge to swallow. He would not show weakness. Not now.

"You are." At least Snape didn't pull any punches.

"So why are you warning me?" he had to ask.

"Would you rather I not?"

"No."

Then the other sighed. "I tell you, Peter, because I know our world needs you. All of you. No matter what happens."

Peter swallowed as Snape's eyes met his, and for once, there was no barrier between them. There was only truth, and perhaps, a slender spark of hope. His old enemy continued.

"I am not an idealist. I am not a dreamer. But I believe that the four of you, together, can not be broken."

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

"This will split the Wizarding World, you know," Sirius said quietly, still leaning against the fence. "Fudge won't keep it quiet, and the fact that you forced them... It might be best if you just let me do it."

"What?"

He held up a hand before his friend could shout any louder. "Listen, James...I don't necessarily think it would work, but failure might be better than letting him manipulate us this way."

James stared up at Sirius, his face chalk white. "You'd die."

"I don't think so." How can I be so calm? "He needs to break me before he can kill me. Otherwise, I'll win."

"Dead men don't win, Sirius."

And even James couldn't quite see it. Not like this, and not any more. Sirius swallowed. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"You're not... Promise me you won't try," James said quickly. "We need you."

For a moment, Sirius contemplated refusing to promise, saying that you never knew what might come, or what you might need to do...but the pain in James' eyes stopped him. So did imagining what Peter and Remus would say. Finally, he sighed.

"This might shatter us, you know. Our world."

"I know," James replied sadly. "But there is no justice in doing what is wrong simply because it is easy. The rest of the world will see that, in time."

"In time."

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

"He is on Avalon, My Lord," the Death Eater said, head bowed. In the flickering lamplight, the individual's face could not be seen, but the voice definitely masculine. However, his was not a voice that even Lucius Malfoy recognized, which set the senior Death Eater's teeth on edge.

The only consolation was that Bellatrix Lestrange looked just as mystified, and she seemed a great deal angrier about it. Well, it's nice to know that even she doesn't know everything, he thought irritably. As much as he respected Bellatrix's powers--and, for better or worse, was her brother-in-law--Lucius disliked her close...relationship with the Dark Lord. In his opinion, it was entirely too close.

"Avalon..." The soft voice faded off into a hiss. "Mysterious Avalon... The Isle of Magic."

Lucius saw the figure tense. "My Lord?"

"Have you not ever heard of it, traitor?" the Dark Lord continued, and Lucius felt a shiver run down his own spine. Why, he could not quite place, but still...

"No, My Lord."

Soft laughter. "Such a shame. Here we have a dazzling example of some of the Wizarding World's oldest and purest families...yet no one knows. No one remembers."

Silence.

"No one." Red eyes scanned the group, and Lucius shivered again. "Not a one of you." Suddenly, the Dark Lord threw his head back and laughed. Laughed.

"Master--?" It was the foolish newcomer who dared.

"Crucio!" A scream, a few seconds of pain, and then it was over. "Silence, traitor."

Lucius allowed himself a cool smile. Few made the mistake of interrupting their Lord, and fewer still made it twice. Fool.

Still, the newcomer's presence was significant, and so was Lucius' inability to identify him. By the senior Death Eater's count, this was the sixth new recruit in the last week--in fact, this mystery man was the sixth since the attack on Diagon Alley. Unless, of course, he was a spy who the Dark Lord had been keeping hidden until now...but even then, his presence was important. Lord Voldemort rarely flaunted his power, but he was making a point. The Death Eaters' ranks were growing. And they were growing fast.

"I doubt even the Aurors realize, or remember..." the Dark Lord continued contemplatively. "Fools."

Even Bellatrix was staring, obviously trying to defeat her own curiosity. As usual, though, she wore every emotion on her face, and Lucius almost laughed again. Unfortunately, Lord Voldemort rarely punished his favorites. As if that helped me, he thought wryly. Though it did save my life.

"Though it matters not. You--" one slender hand gestured menacingly at the newcomer--"will lead my Death Eaters there."

"But, My Lord, it is not--"

"You will make it possible," Voldemort cut him off coldly. "Or you will die."

The newcomer gaped. Lucius could see the expression in his body language, even when the face was covered. After a long moment, he managed to stutter, "Master, I might be able to lure him away..."

"And you think he is that foolish?" the Dark Lord laughed harshly. "I think not. You will either lead my Death Eaters to Avalon, or you will open the way."

"But..."

"Do you need another lesson, traitor, in what defiance costs?"

"No, My Lord!" Still, the wand came up, and Lucius shook his head minutely The new ones were always the most imprudent...even when reputation alone ought to have taught them better. "No--"

"Crucio!"

This time, the screams echoed off the stone walls, and even when the newcomer writhed on the floor, no one moved to help him. No one laughed, either, if simply because the Dark Lord's punishments were no laughing matter. They had all been there, and though pity would never unite them, understanding might. Except for a select few. These fools will never understand me, nor do I care to understand them. Especially those who run to the Dark Lord simply because they think he might win.

Finally, the screams ended, though Lucius was left wondering how aware the newcomer was. For a long moment, he lay motionless on the stone floor, gasping for air and wheezing in pain, but then he surprised Lucius by rolling to his knees far quicker than most managed to do. And then the fool was smart enough to simply wait.

"Do you need another reminder, traitor?"

"No, Master." He wheezed, but was somehow demonstrating remarkable self-control, all the same. "I do not."

The calm tone of voice forced Lucius to reevaluate his opinion of the newcomer. Slightly. Very slightly.

"You will do as I ask."

"Yes, My Lord."

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

"Mum?" Harry asked quietly, making Lily's head turn. Her confident son rarely looked so sad, so worried. True, Harry often acted older than many boys his age, due to growing up during a war and being hunted by the most dangerous Dark Wizard in history, but he was not often like this. And he had never seemed as uncertain as he seemed now.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked quickly, trying not to sound too concerned--if Harry knew that he'd worried her, he'd close off and try to pretend that there wasn't anything bothering him at all.

"I was thinking," he replied. "About going back to school, and about...y'know. The war."

The war. It had come to the point when even twelve year old boys had to worry. Lily swallowed. "And?"

"Well, everything's changing. This time last year, things didn't seem so bad, but now things are different," he said. "And Hogwarts isn't safe, anymore, is it?"

"No." Whatever else came, she would not lie to him. Harry deserved so much better. "It isn't."

His shoulders slumped. "Then what's the point?" Harry demanded. "Why even go back?"

"Don't you trust Remus to keep the school safe?" she countered.

"Of course I trust him," her son said quickly. "But..."

"But what?" Lily softened her voice with an effort. "You fear for your friends."

He nodded. "I understand. I've grown up with the war, and I know the risks..." Harry bit his lip. "I think Ron and his family understand, too. But Hermione's Muggleborn, and there are so many others who don't deserve to..."

To die. But neither said it.

"I know, Harry," she said. "And there are dangers; I won't deny that. But we'll fight to protect them, and we'll win, in the end."

"I just wish I could do more."

"Me, too." Lily's managed a slight smile as she reached out to ruffle his hair. Harry shot her a cross look. "I think we all do."

"At least you can do something," he objected. "All I get to do is go back to Hogwarts and pretend as if nothing's wrong, as if I don't know what this war costs, or how many it's hurting. Because I'm just a kid."

"You are, you know," she said gently, then continued before he could object. "Someday, Harry, you'll have your own battles to fight, and you'll understand wanting to protect those you love."

Bitter green eyes met her own. "I already do understand."

"If you do, you know why I pray you will never play a part in this war," Lily replied. "And why, though the day may come when you will have to act, I will fight that day back as long as I can."

"Because you don't think I can handle it."

"No, Harry." She shook her head. "I know you could. I want to protect you because you're my son, and I want you to live your childhood long enough for it to matter in the man you will become."

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