Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter James Potter Ron Weasley Remus Lupin Sirius Black
Genres:
Action Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 02/26/2003
Updated: 11/13/2003
Words: 164,724
Chapters: 41
Hits: 101,291

Promises Unbroken

RobinLady

Story Summary:
Sirius Black remained the Secret Keeper and everything he feared came to pass. Ten years later, James and Lily live, Harry attends Hogwarts, and Voldemort remains…welcome to a darker world.

Chapter 20

Chapter Summary:
Sirius Black remained the Secret Keeper and everything he feared came to pass. Ten years later, James and Lily live, Harry attends Hogwarts, and Voldemort remains…welcome to a darker world where nothing is as it seems. {This Chapter: Midnight pranks, mistrust, and aftermath}
Posted:
06/03/2003
Hits:
2,153

Promises Unbroken

Chapter Twenty: True Friendships

The moon still shone brightly over Godric's Hollow as Peter Apparated onto the front walkway, just shy of the wards. He knew the ward-key, of course, but in his current state, he hadn't quite meant to end up so close. Again, he forced himself to take a deep breath, and started walking towards the Potters' front door. It was time.

A silver disc materialized before him with a flick of his wand, and the message spell sped on ahead as Peter strode forward. Unimpeded by mere physical boundaries, the disk flashed through the green front door and sped onwards, now out of sight. He felt better somehow, now that he had decided. A decade and more of regret still paced him with every step, but it had become bearable--somehow, the knowledge that he might yet make a difference changed things. That didn't right the wrongs, of course, but at least it was a beginning. He reached the door, raising his right hand to knock even as James appeared in its opening.

Sleepy and squinting, his old friend stared at him in surprise. "Peter?" he asked unnecessarily, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. "What in the world are you doing here, mate?"

Peter felt his hands shake. Not now, he told them angrily. "I need to talk to you, James."

"At this hour?"

The hard-working and never-quitting James Potter had clearly been asleep, evidenced by the fact that he wore nothing aside from a faded pair of plaid slacks. His black hair, too, was standing straight up on end, but that was very little different from his waking hours, so Peter paid it no mind. Nor, he suspected, did James care a wit about what he looked like--although Lily, who was coming down the stairs, looked a bit more decent than her husband, having clearly paused to put a robe on while James bolted down the stairs.

"Yeah." For the first time, Peter realized it was after one in the morning. "It's important."

"Well come in then, Wormtail," James smiled, now wide-awake due to the worried tone of Peter's voice. Years ago, James would never have been the one to notice those things, but time had changed them all.

Peter stepped inside Godric's Hollow and allowed James to lead him to the living room for what had to be the millionth time, but he felt an unaccustomed chill race down his spine. This was it. This was either a beginning for truths or an end of everything he had cherished for his entire life...but it had to be done. No matter what the outcome, it would be worth doing, and he owed it to his friends. He owed it to the Marauders, but especially to the one who had suffered for ten years, and now might just have a chance at life. And I was so close, and never even realized... He grimaced, and James must have noticed, because he asked:

"What is it, Peter?"

He sighed and took the offered seat. "Promise me you'll listen, James, before you say anything."

"Of course I'll listen to you--"

"Just promise me, please." He'd never imagined this could be so hard, but now James was frowning, and Lily was watching him with concerned eyes. For Sirius, he reminded himself. I owe this to Sirius...God, I owe this to all of them. I owe them so much, and I betrayed their trust...

"I promise." So noble and trusting, James Potter. Willing to promise even when he didn't understand why. He'd always been that way, and a dozen years as an Auror hadn't even made him cynical enough to change that. Peter had always admired that, but now it hurt.

He couldn't even think of any words to say, so after a moment's hesitation, he only pulled back the sleeve of his robe, revealing the Dark Mark.

James and Lily's sharp intakes of breath were the only sound in the room, but he felt his friendship dying then and there. Slowly, he began to speak: "I became a Death Eater in June of 1980," Peter said quietly, unable to look at them and finally coming to stare at the floor. "It seemed like a good idea at the time...I was so sure that the Dark Lord was going to win. I thought that somehow..." God, it sounds so stupid. So foolish. "That somehow I could protect my friends that way... That when the end came, by being on his side, I could save your lives.

"It wasn't long before I realized how stupid I'd been, but by then there was no way out. I didn't know what to do, or where to go, and I was sure that if I told anyone on the light side, it would land me in Azkaban, or much worse. I was mostly a spy, feeding You-Kno--Voldemort--information, and because they thought I was stupid, they never thought I knew much. I traded on being dumb and scared, and gave just enough information to stay in the circle. Most of the Death Eaters didn't even know who I was because I was a spy. Only Malfoy and the Lestranges really knew."

He swallowed hard. Still James was silent. He blinked. Grown men did not shed tears.

"I didn't want to be a Death Eater," Peter whispered. "But when Malfoy made the offer, claiming that it could save the rest of you--" With a shuddering breath, he cut himself off. He wasn't there to plead; he was beyond that, now. Whatever happened was what he deserved to happen. "But that doesn't matter. Not now."

"What does?" James' voice sounded empty and pained, like it came from beyond the grave.

"Sirius." Peter's head came up, and he forced himself to meet James' eyes.

"What--"

"I was summoned to a meeting tonight, and Yo--Voldemort said that he had been in Azkaban, and he'd escaped. He's alive, James, and out there somewhere--all the Death Eaters are searching for him, now, because he wants Sirius at any costs. But he's alive." The words sounded foreign to his own ears, even though he'd heard them before. "He's alive."

"Alive?" James had gone a ghostly shade white as Peter spoke, and now his words came out in a strangled whisper. "Sirius?"

Beside him, Lily squeezed her husband's hand, but as she looked at Peter, her words were cold. "Voldemort knows his animagus form, doesn't he?"

Peter shook his head. "I never told him," he whispered. "James..." He waited for his friend to look up before continuing. "I'll understand if you hate me, but at least know this:

"I never wanted to betray my friends. I was too cowardly to correct my mistake, but if there's one thing I never did, it's betray you...or Remus, or even Sirius, even when I thought he was dead. I meant what I said when I swore that we were brothers. I wasn't worthy of your trust, but I never did betray you. And I won't, no matter what happens." He had to look away as James studied him with deep and expressionless eyes. "I wish it hadn't taken something like this for me to realize that I can't do this any more...but at least I can hope to help Sirius before it's too late. No matter what happens to me, he deserves better."

A long moment of silence reigned. Finally, Lily whispered, "A lot of things make sense now..."

It was hard to keep tears back, now. He stared at the floor again.

"Peter." James' voice was low. He swallowed, but couldn't speak. Suddenly, it was too hard. How do you say I'm sorry for such a horrible breach of trust? There weren't words, and he knew it was over. He shook his head, struggling to rein his emotions in.

"I--"

"Wormtail." Suddenly, James was standing in front of him, gripping his shoulder, and Peter looked up, mystified with what he heard in the other wizard's voice. "I believe you," James said quietly. "And I trust you, if you say you're finished with Voldemort."

"I am," he whispered in a shaky voice. Oh, he was. No matter what happened, that, he was sure of.

"I know you'd never betray us," James whispered. "You're still my friend, Peter, no matter what happens. And I'll stand by you, brother, until the end."

Peter stared, but allowed James to pull him to his feet and embrace him. After a moment, he returned the embrace. Finally, he allowed his tears to flow freely. James might not have completely understood--but he forgave him. He didn't hate him...even though Peter still couldn't figure out how not to hate himself.

"I don't know how to thank you--" he started to whisper after a moment, but James pulled back.

"Just help me find Sirius," he said quietly. Again, he squeezed Peter's shoulder. "I know Remus will agree. Let's just find Sirius."

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

Darkness and pain.

All else was a blur now. It was hard to differentiate between the rest. Days, perhaps, had passed since he'd been discovered--or maybe it was even weeks. Months? He didn't quite think so, but Bill wasn't thinking too clearly at the moment. Or too often. He drifted in pain, now, shuddering as the Dementors closed with him, and reacting with instinctive terror when they entered his cell. A part of his mind fought the mindless fear, of course, but now there seemed no reason to. When they came to take him, they brought him to be tortured. How many times he'd endured it, Bill no longer knew. Counting required too much effort to bother.

Yet a corner of his soul resisted, buried deep where the Lestranges couldn't reach. He'd been betrayed, he knew, but how, Bill could not fathom. Something had gone wrong. There were no lucky guesses involved. Voldemort had known. He knew where to look, knew of Bill's mission and when it was supposed to begin.

But how, Bill still could not understand. Yet his head hurt to think about it, so he did no longer. He lay curled in a ball at the back of his cell, willing the moments between hell and more hell to lengthen interminably. The part of his mind that still considered itself intelligent wondered why he was still alive--he didn't know enough to be useful, and he realized that, even in his current state. Why did they want him to live? Why did they torture him still? They wanted something, and for a while, he had thought it was merely to wear him down under the constant grind of pain and hopelessness, but now Bill wasn't sure. Perhaps there was no purpose, and he was merely an outlet for the Lestranges' maniac anger.

And they were angry, furious over something that had nothing to do with him. Mere hours after Voldemort's startling discovery the Portkey and his wand, Bill had heard enraged voices.

Coldness crept in, and he shivered uncontrollably, scrunching his eyes shut against the memories. But the Dementor came no closer, and after several long moments, he tried to take a deep breath and calm himself. It no longer worked, but the voice of his sanity still echoed in his head.

Voldemort knew.

Bill tried to think, tried to understand, but his mind was so often not his own. Everything was a blur, except for the moments he would rather not think about. But he was missing something.

How?

He had been betrayed, somehow, by someone--but by who? Even in his sorry state, Bill knew that very few had even been aware of the Azkaban Plan in its final details. James certainly had, as had Dumbledore, but who would expect the two men who were Voldemort's greatest targets to betray him? Likewise with Minister Figg. So if it hadn't been one of those three, then who? Perhaps the Order of the Phoenix's inner circle had known, but surely those individuals would not...

Coldness. Dementors were coming once more, and this time he knew without a doubt that they were coming for him. Bill shuddered, and tried to focus--but his thoughts fled, carrying with them his sanity and then there was pain.

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

Poppy's Dreamless Sleep Potion helped a great deal, Remus say, watching Sirius' face as he slept. He looked so peaceful, now, and if one overlooked the gauntness of his features and the dark purple bruise on his left cheek, he could almost be the Sirius of old. By daydreaming for a moment, Remus could imagine the cheerful smile, or the innocent way in which Sirius would always claim that it wasn't his fault--but not quite. It was always tempting to slip into the past, but right now, the present seemed much brighter for the first time in years.

"You should be sleeping," Poppy said quietly from beside him.

Remus shrugged. "Later."

"I had forgotten how much trouble the four of you could be," the matron replied, and the softness of her voice made him turn his head. Poppy smiled slightly. "I never could get them to leave when you were here."

"That's what friends are for," Remus whispered. Brothers. There was no sleeping at a time like this, he knew. Right now, his head was spinning too fast, and his heart going insane--it was still hard to grasp the fact that this was Sirius, and Sirius was alive. As usual, the wolf inside him made matters only worse; it wanted to yip, and howl, and dance in joy. The Marauders had always been the wolf's pack brothers, and the Marauders were whole once more. For the first time in a decade, there was no missing link. Padfoot was back.

Poppy's hand landed on his shoulder, and the headmaster smiled as she squeezed gently. A part of him, he supposed, would always be the frightened eleven year old boy who just happened to have a werewolf stuck inside and was desperate for the comfort and understanding that the matron could provide. Out of all his staff, he spoke perhaps the least to Poppy Pomfrey, but in some ways, he would always be closest to her. There were some things that simply didn't need saying, and she understood. After a final caring smile, she left Remus alone with his friend, trusting that he'd call her if anything was needed. Silence followed her departure, but it was a comfortable one.

Remus glanced at the time, and was surprised to see that it was almost four. In the morning, he'd fire call James and Peter, presuming, of course, that was all right with Sirius. But Dumbledore had left an hour before, very sure that there was (somehow) no Imperius Curse on Sirius, which meant that he had no reason to fear for anyone, and it meant that things could finally be right. Perhaps he was dwelling too much on the possibilities, but Remus felt younger, all of a sudden. Years of age and pain were suddenly lighter to bear, because Sirius was back. He'd been fighting for years beside his two best friends--but had never forgotten having lost the third. It was nice to be wrong for a change.

Now all he had to do was wait for Sirius to wake up so they could share the news with the others.

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

They spent the wee hours of the morning tracing every possible route from Azkaban, and wondering where Sirius might be now. Unfortunately, the possibilities were endless...and every now and then, James found himself marveling at the fact that he and Lily were willingly working beside a confessed traitor. What really surprised him, though, was that he didn't care. Maybe he was simply too obsessed with the fact that Sirius was alive, but there was also the fact that it was Peter. Wormtail was a fellow Marauder--and for all the truth in Peter's confession, he had heard the pain. Perhaps he should have seen the signs sooner (and he had, really, if he thought about it), but he saw the reasons, and he understood. Peter's choice wasn't one that he could have made himself...but in the dark days before Dumbledore's rise to the Ministry, James could understand the fear that would drive a man to Voldemort.

He only wished that Wormtail had understood that there was always a way out, and that his friends wouldn't have hated him. But he does now, and that's all that matters, James reminded himself. Pouring over maps, he'd spoken quietly with Peter, and slowly, his friend was coming to understand. To remember.

Becoming adults had forced distance and space between the Marauders. Leaving Hogwarts had changed things. They were every bit as close, but they weren't always there--James was constantly at the Ministry, and Remus was at Hogwarts, and both had forgotten how much Peter could need them. In a way, James had told his friend quietly, it was as much their fault as Peter's. And he admired the courage it took to come forward, even after so long.

At six in the morning, a fire call interrupted their work. Lily had taken the call because neither James nor Peter was willing to move from the kitchen table, which they'd completely covered with maps and pages upon pages of notes--but her voice had changed when she'd called James' name.

"James! Get in here!"

"Be right back, Wormtail," James said, clapping Peter on the shoulder on his way out. Sometimes, there was just no arguing with Lily, and judging from her tone, this was one of them.

He was however, surprised to see Remus' face dancing in the fire. "Moony?"

"Sit down, James." The other Marauder's blue eyes were shadowed by fatigue, but they were lit with a fire he couldn't yet comprehend. James sat, wondering what this could be about; his own tired mind was still working too slowly, after having been up for most of the night--Remus continued. "You're not going to believe this, mate, but Sirius is alive."

Snape must have told him. "I know," he replied quietly. There was no time like the present to break the news. "Peter told me."

"What?" Something dark flashed in Remus' eyes. "Peter's there?"

"Yeah. He--"

"He's a Death Eater." Moony's voice was hard, deadly even.

"I know," James said softly; then he frowned as his brain clicked. "But how did you find out?"

"Sirius is here, James."

"What?" He felt his heart leap out of his chest and start bouncing around somewhere on the floor, but it didn't matter. Sirius was at Hogwarts--he was safe! How he had made it all the way to the school was beyond James, but it hardly mattered. Sirius is at Hogwarts. Sirius is safe. His mind was whirling, but even then, he didn't miss Lily's soft exclamation or the sharp intake of breath from the doorway. James turned to see Peter slumped against the doorframe in relief.

"He knows, doesn't he?" Peter asked quietly.

Remus eyed him warily, but nodded.

"Peter's with us, Remus," James explained gently. "He came here of his own will, to tell me--he didn't know before. And now Voldemort has every Death Eater hunting for Sirius' head."

"Not surprising," Hogwarts' headmaster replied to the last part, but his eyes were still on Peter, who flinched slightly, but met his gaze. Finally, Remus nodded. "Okay."

"How is he?" Lily asked for them all.

"Awful," Remus said. "Looks like bloody hell...but Poppy says he'll be all right, and Dumbledore's all ready been here. He's clear, too."

The cynical part of James' brain wondered how anyone could escape Voldemort's clutches without being under an Unforgivable or ten--but the rest of him accepted that as truth easily enough. With Sirius, he'd learned long ago, nothing was impossible. Still, there were other possible problems, aside from the obvious curses and physical injuries. He asked, "But how is he?"

"Haunted." Remus hesitated. "Hiding a lot. Other than that, I don't really know. He hasn't been here for too long, and we've been trying to get him to rest. I'd have told you sooner, but Sirius wouldn't let me--"

"What?"

Remus gave him a sour look. "He was afraid that he was under the Imperius Curse. I don't think he'd have wanted to talk to me, either, but I showed up before he could object."

"Oh." There was so much more he wanted to ask, but James hesitated, timid for one of the rare moments in his life. What now? He puckered his lips up in a face and tried to find words for what he wanted to say.

"Prongs, are you going to come to Hogwarts or talk to me all day long?" Moony suddenly demanded; then his eyes flickered over to Peter. "You'd better come, too, Wormtail. I don't know what he's going to say to you, but you should be here for this."

"All right," Peter replied quietly as James leapt to his feet, grabbing Lily's hand. She might not have been one of the Marauders, but this was her moment, too.

"We'll be right there."