Our Wicked Lies

Our Wicked Lies

The space between,

The tears we cry,

Is the laughter keeps us coming back for more,

The space between,

Our wicked lies,

Where we hope to keep safe from pain,

- Dave Matthews Band, "The Space Between"

[ [ [ ] ] ]

It was dark when they arrived at the place where the house had once stood.

The moon was rising, a pale silver gash hung behind a veil of gray clouds, which drifted slowly across the night sky. The stars were silent and unusually dim, but a few of the bolder ones gleamed as brightly as ever, seemingly unafraid of the darkness closing in on the world below.

The walls had not collapsed in, nor had they exploded outwards. They had gone up in flames, and the ground all around the house was charcoal black, the grass burned for several feet. The fire had almost completely died, but smoke rose in hazy wisps from some of the smoldering ashes.

The front walk was intact, but the flower beds on each side had been trampled, a multitude of red, pink, purple, yellow, and blue so carefully tended by the inhabitants of the house, now crushed into the dirt.

Sirius Black knew he was shaking, but he found he no longer had control over his body. He had seen this scene so many times before at so many different homes, all lit by the same glowing green light that came from the Dark Mark, hovering in the air above the ruins.

And yet this was different. This was something that was not supposed to have happened, and yet here he was. This was what he had been dreading for years. This was something that had haunted his worst nightmares, and the nightmares of so many others. This was personal. This hurt more than he could ever put into words.

Kingsley Shaklebolt and Hestia Jones were watching him apprehensively, and he knew exactly what thoughts where flooding the minds of his fellow Aurors. He found he did not want their sympathy.

"Sirius," Hestia began hesitantly. "You don't have to do this. Kingsley and I can handle this on our own. You don't have to-" She broke off, but they each knew what she was saying. You don't have to see this.

"Yes." Sirius knew his voice was about to break. "Yes, I do."

They started up the walk, Sirius in the lead, his heart pounding in his chest with each step he took. As they came closer, Sirius could see that the door frame was still standing. The door had fallen outwards, and was now a charred piece of wood on the front step.

Sirius stopped when he reached the doorway. He took a deep breath, knowing what he would find, and stepped through into what had once been the entrance hall.

Someone, perhaps Voldemort himself, had placed a fireproofing charm on the table that had once stood against the wall between the kitchen and the stairs. One thing sat upon the table, placed almost ceremoniously in the exact center. A small brass lion. And as he saw it standing there, head raised proud, Sirius found he could not tear his gaze away, though he knew he was blinking rapidly as he fought the urge to wipe his eyes.

Hestia and Kingsley exchanged worried glances behind Sirius's back. They too knew what the lion resembled. Every house which sat under the Dark Mark, burned, destroyed, or unmarked, had one similar item. An item that, when touched, would show the last moments of the people who had lived in that house.

And they where worse than torture to watch.

Which was, perhaps, why Voldemort and his followers placed them in every house they destroyed.

Sirius, moving slowly as though in a dream, reached out and plucked the lion from its place on the table.

And the world spun.

[ [ [ ] ] ]

It was well past midnight when James Potter was awoken by a loud knocking on his door. His hand instantly went to the wand on his bedside table, and he took only a moment to glance at his wife before he slid out of their bed and crept from the room.

Only four people knew where the Potters where currently living, and he knew that none of them would be knocking at their front door at this hour of the morning unless it where important. He was also fairly confident that Albus Dumbledore was not the one still pounding on the door, and he was entirely sure that a Death Eater would not knock if they wanted to come in, which meant that it was one of his three closes friends who was waiting outside.

He had not expected to see a trembling Sirius Black when he opened the door, nor had he expected Sirius to throw himself on James the moment he saw him, nor had he expected the sobs that where now wracking his friends body.

"Sirius!" James whispered in alarm. "Sirius! What is it? Shh, come in. Sirius. Sirius, come in so I can shut the door."

James guided Sirius into the living room, wondering with rising panic what could have caused him to have such a nervous breakdown. James led Sirius over to the couch, and Sirius allowed himself to be pushed into a sitting position, his eyes still red as his cries quieted at last.

"Look," James said, one hand resting firmly on Sirius's shoulder. "You stay here. I'll got get some hot chocolate from the kitchen. It'll only take a minute."

But as James stood to go, Sirius seemed to snap out of his daze, because he grabbed James's hand in a tight grip.

"James." Sirius spoke softly, his voice hoarse and quavering. "James, he's dead."

A wave of icy cold water seemed to have swept over him, and James suddenly felt as though he where drowning. He sat down heavily on the couch, and though he did not want to know the answer, the question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Who?" He croaked, wishing that this where another one of his nightmares, wishing that Lily would be shaking him awake at any second, wishing for things he could not put into words anymore.

"Peter, James. They got Peter."

[ [ [ ] ] ]

It was raining when the floo bell chimed, signaling someone's arrival. Remus Lupin looked up from his breakfast of oatmeal and the novel he had been reading for the past half hour, wondering who would be visiting him at six o'clock in the morning.

Shoving his bookmark between the two pages, Remus left his breakfast and book on the table, hurrying into the living room in time to see Sirius shoot out of the fire. Before he could greet his friend, James came flying out of the fire as well, though he did not land on his feet the way Sirius had, and instead ended up with his nose shoved against Remus's carpeted floor.

"Sirius! James!" Remus grinned widely at his friends, moving to help James off the floor-

-When he saw their grim expressions, and felt the smile slide off his face.

"Remus." Sirius said quietly, and Remus sat down heavily in his favorite chair. He did not need to ask why they where here. Part of him wanted them to say it, to tell him quickly, to get it over with. The other part of him wanted to pretend that none of this was happening, to put off the inevitable pain, to delay the knowledge of another death. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw James and Sirius sit down as well.

"Remus-" James began, but Remus cut him off.

"Who is it?" His voice was oddly cold as he spoke.

James opened his mouth, and then dropped his head into his hands, hiding his face from view. Sirius let out a long shaky breath, but he met Remus's gaze, and Remus suddenly noticed that his eyes where red from crying.

"Peter."

Remus felt as though someone had sucked all the air from his lungs. He could not breath, he could not speak, he could not think. The simple task of living suddenly seemed too much for him to handle.

And quite abruptly Sirius was hugging him, murmuring words of comfort that where almost more to comfort himself than to comfort his friends. James was crying, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed into his hands. Remus knew that there where tears streaking down his own face.

"He," James's voice rang through the room, disrupted only by his heavy breathing. "He was a Death Eater. Lily and I asked him to be our secret keeper. We where going to perform the charm tomorrow. Last night, Voldemort summoned him and demanded he give up our location." James's voice broke, his sobs returning with a vengeance he continued speaking. "But Peter wouldn't tell them. He said he didn't want to work for Voldemort anymore, and that he wasn't going to betray his friends. He apparated back to his house, but the Death Eaters and Voldemort followed. He was staying with his mother." James was crying heavily again. "They- they-"

But it seemed that James could not finish, because he broke off, unable to tell exactly what horrors Peter and his mother had gone through before their deaths. Remus did not need to hear the words. He knew what they must have gone through, the pain they would have endured before their death.

"He didn't tell." Sirius spoke in a cracked whisper. "He never told where James and Lily and Harry where. He died instead of betraying his friends."

And James cried all the harder.