Survivor's Guilt: Moony's Tale

If they had not known he was Peter they might not have recognised him. He doesn't need to be a rat anymore to live in disguise, Remus thought. The man before them looked lumpy and unwell. He was balding in an unattractive and undignified way and his features struck Remus as being much more rat-like than he remembered -- perhaps the result of living as a rodent for so long. And had Peter ever cringed so?

"Well, hello, Peter," Remus said, surprised by how calm his voice sounded. He felt oddly lightheaded. "Long time, no see."

"S-Sirius ... R-Remus ..." his voice was higher and squeakier than Remus recalled. His eyes darted about the room, most frequently to the door. "My friends ..." he tried nervously. "My old friends ..."

Sirius, fury burning in his eyes, would have blasted Peter on the spot, but Remus stepped closer to him and grabbed his skeletal wrist, forcing the wand down. Not yet, Sirius, he shook his head slightly. Sirius lowered his hand and Remus let go reluctantly with a tiny squeeze.

He turned back to Peter, voice still calm. "We've been having a little chat, Peter," he said, "about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed --" The dignity of adult phrasing seemed to have deserted him as he reverted to modes of speech he had not used since his school days.

"Remus," Peter squeaked pathetically, latching onto the only apparently rational adult presence in the room, "you don't believe him, do you ...?" his eyes flicked to Sirius and he visibly cringed again. "He tried to kill me, Remus ..."

"So we've heard," Remus replied, voice chilly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so --"

"He's come to try to kill me again!" Peter broke in shrilly, obviously mistaking Remus's courtesy for attentive sympathy. He pointed a self-incriminating middle finger at Sirius. It spoke volumes, and Remus saw the children's widened eyes. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me, too ... you've got to help me, Remus ..."

Help me, Remus. How many times had Peter appealed to him in those words, the victim of James and Sirius's latest prank? And Remus had always gamely rallied to his cause, imploring the other two to be nicer to Peter, though it had resulted in much mocking of his own person and character I was his champion, Remus thought, still calm, and he tried to repay me by leaving me out of his betrayal. Lily and James dead. Sirius imprisoned. Myself the only one untouched -- at least, physically. But I am done "helping" you, Rat.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," he said, voice still chilly. He was gratified by the dawning horror in Peter's eyes as he realised that he would get no sympathy from that quarter.

"Sorted things out?" he squeaked, eyes darting to the door again. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

Peter had to know he was trapped now. He had always been a terrible liar. It had been his weak testimony which had incriminated the Marauders in many a prank. He was no match for his much cleverer and very angry classmates.

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" Remus said skeptically. "When nobody has ever done it before?" Peter's marks in History of Magic had always been poor, but that fact was well known to all wizards.

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Peter was attempting to make up for his lack of credibility with volume, shouting to make himself heard in the quiet confines of the dusty house. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He Who Must Not Be Named taught him a few tricks!"

Sirius was laughing, but hollowly and without humour. Peter looked scared. "Voldemort, teach me tricks? What, scared to hear your old master's name?" he taunted as Peter flinched. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know -- what you mean, Sirius," Peter mumbled, earning himself twin looks of contempt.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," Sirius spat at him accusatorially. Peter paled as Sirius told him exactly what Voldemort's supporters in Azkaban thought of the Rat who had brought down their master. "If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter --"

"Don't know ... what you're talking about ..." Peter insisted again weakly. Desperate eyes turned to appeal to Remus once more. "You don't believe this -- this madness, Remus --"

Remus pursed his lips as if considering Peter's words. "I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat."

"Innocent, but scared!" Peter's voice was shrill and insistent. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban -- the spy, Sirius Black!"

Remus could feel his face go white with anger, his jaw clench. Vermin! He nearly lost control then, and would have leapt on Peter himself had Sirius not spoken.

"How dare you," he growled between clenched teeth, and Remus wondered if the line between man and dog was as clear as it had once been. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter -- I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us ... me and Remus ..." the gray eyes filled with sorrow again for a moment, "and James."

He's right, thought Remus. Why did we never see it? Too wrapped up in the fear of it being each other, I suppose. But someone should have seen. James should have seen.

Peter was still determinedly protesting his own innocence. "Me, a spy ... must be out of your mind ... never ... don't know how you can say such a --"

"James and Lily only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Sirius spat. "I thought it was the perfect plan ... a bluff ..."

Remus wondered how Sirius had talked them into it. James would certainly have found it a wonderful joke, but Lily had always been more cautious. Would she have agreed to something so risky purely at Sirius's suggestion? It all happened so quickly, he recalled. That doesn't sound like Lily at all.

While Sirius was speaking, Remus noted that since the rat had become Peter the three children had been staring at him with increasing suspicion, not one of them remotely convinced by his lame denials.

It was Hermione who spoke first. "Professor Lupin?" He was gratified to hear a respectful tone back in her voice. "Can -- can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione." He tried to smile but the atmosphere in the room was too highly charged.

"Well -- Scabbers -- I mean, this -- this man -- he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You Know Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" Peter cried shrilly. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

Peter, you should be ashamed of yourself, thought Remus. A fourteen-year-old girl putting up a better argument for your defence than you can manage after twelve years of working on your alibi?

But Sirius had had plenty of time to consider Peter's motives himself, and it was he who answered, "I'll tell you why. Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you."

He's right, Remus knew. Peter would never stick his neck out for anyone, unless he was sure that person could give him a safe place to hide after. And why risk anything when he already had safety?

Peter did not appear to have an answer for this.

Hermione spoke again, this time addressing Sirius. "Er -- Mr Black -- Sirius?"

Sirius jumped, and Remus wondered how many times in his life Sirius had ever been referred to as "Mr Black". The urge to laugh left him as he wondered when the last time was that someone had spoken to Sirius with any level of respect or kindness.

"If you don't mind me asking," Hermione continued, "how -- how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" Peter began praising Hermione's defence again, but Remus gave him his best Professor look, and he closed his mouth.

"I don't know how I did it," Sirius began, frowning slightly, as if trying to find the best words to explain.

It was not quite as Remus had expected. He had thought that it might have been Sirius's ability to become Padfoot that had saved his mind from the ravages of the Dementors, but that was not all of it. The knowledge of his own innocence had protected him. Truth is not the same as happiness. The Dementors could not feed on it. And Sirius had held onto that truth -- his rock in the raging river of fear, despair and self-loathing that would otherwise have swept him away.

But even if the usual madness induced by Azkaban had not been his lot, Sirius's experience of the place sounded horrible enough. Remus was once again overwhelmed by guilt. I did nothing. I should have been that rock. I didn't even try to see him. He wanted to reach out, not only to comfort the man he loved, but also to reassure himself that the terrible loneliness of the past twelve years was really over. Not now, he thought. There will be time for that later.

"But then I saw Peter in that picture ..." Sirius continued, explaining how the realisation that Harry was in danger had lit a fire under him, forcing him to action. Sirius caught Remus's eyes briefly, and Remus read the look loud and clear. As long as Harry was safe, I knew no one on the outside needed me, it said. Remus looked away first, ashamed.

"I've been living in the Forest ever since ... except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course ... you fly as well as your father did, Harry ..."

Remus blinked. Quidditch? He came out of the Forest to watch Quidditch?! Actually, that sounds just like Sirius .... He smiled slightly at the other man, but Sirius was looking intently at Harry.

"Believe me," he implored. "Believe me. I never betrayed Lily and James. I would have died before I betrayed them."

Remus felt a lump in his throat, as he watched man and boy staring at one another. He saw the mistrust draining from wide, green eyes -- eyes that were the only clue that this was not Sirius's best friend staring back at him. I should have known. I should have, he berated himself yet again. How could I of all people ever have thought him a traitor?

Remus thought for a second that Sirius was going to reach out and touch the boy, but before he could move, Peter broke in, wailing, "No!" He fell to his knees and moved towards Sirius, pleading, "Sirius -- it's me ... it's Peter ... your friend ... you wouldn't ..."

Sirius kicked at him, and he slunk back. "There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," he said coldly.

Desperately, Peter searched the room for a sympathetic ear. "Remus!" he cried, prostrating himself in front of him. "You don't believe this ... Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

I only wish he had, thought Remus. Things might have gone differently. "Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter." His eyes met Sirius's over Peter's prostrated form. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he inquired, trying to keep his voice as neutral and free of emotion as possible.

"Forgive me, Remus," was all Sirius said, but Remus could see the regret in his eyes.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," he reassured him. Remus pushed the sleeves of his robes up over his elbows. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"

"Of course." A faint smile and a look of relief washed over Sirius's face as he followed suit, rolling up his dirty, torn and bedraggled sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so," said mild-mannered Remus Lupin, a man usually so quick to forgive and eager to be liked. Peter deserves this, he thought savagely as the rat-man squealed and begged pathetically. As long as he lives, he is a danger to Harry and to all of us. If we show him mercy, he will only sell us to them again to save his own miserable skin.

Peter could see his former friends were lost to him. He tried to appeal to the children instead.

"Ron ... haven't I been a good friend ... a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you ... you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron's lip curled in a look of disgust. "I let you sleep in my bed!" he cried, outraged.

Oh, that's not very promising, thought Remus as Peter continued to crawl and plead and generally humiliate himself.

"If you made a better rat than human," cut in Sirius, "it's not much to boast about, Peter."

Seeing he would get no help there, Peter switched to Hermione. "Sweet girl ... clever girl ... you -- you won't let them ... help me ..." But Hermione backed away, looking only slightly less disgusted than Ron.

At last, Peter turned his now hopeless eyes on Harry, his last chance for survival. "Harry ... Harry ... you look just like your father ... just like him ..."

Sirius was beside himself. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" he shouted, voice cracking. Remus wondered how long it had been since he had last dared to speak so loudly. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," begged Peter in despairing tones, hands outstretched in a gesture of supplication, "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed ... James would have understood, Harry ... he would have shown me mercy ..."

It was too much for either of them to see this man, responsible for the deaths of two of their best friends, begging for his life from their young son. As one, they moved forward, grabbed him by his shoulders and threw him onto his back, away from Harry. He lay, blinking in terror, hands before his face, an ineffectually shield.

"You sold James and Lily to Voldemort," Sirius said in a voice which shook with cold fury. "Do you deny it?"

A sob welled up in Peter's throat and he lay on the floor blubbering, wailing and contemptible. "Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord ... you have no idea ... he has weapons you can't imagine ... I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen ... He Who Must Not Be Named forced me --"

"DON'T LIE!" Sirius shouted, rage turning his eyes to a dangerous silver which sent a chill down Remus's spine. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE JAMES AND LILY DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He -- he was taking over everywhere!" said Peter, his weak defences running out. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who ever existed?" Sirius's quiet fury was even more terrible than his raging. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand!" squealed Peter. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Sirius was shouting again. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Peter's eyes flicked fearfully to Remus but found no quarter there as Remus stepped in to present a united front with Sirius, shoulder to shoulder, their arms lightly touching. Remus thought for a second that he saw a spark arc between their raised wands. Love and War, thought Remus. That's what it all comes down to.

"You should have realised," Remus spoke in quiet agreement with Sirius's words, "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."

Their wands were pointing at the cowering form, the Unforgivable Curse rising in their throats. In this one act they would be reunited and put right so much that had gone wrong.

But suddenly, there was Harry -- James's face, Lily's eyes -- standing between them and their revenge, and saying "NO! You can't kill him! You can't."

Remus was so startled that he nearly lost his balance. Next to him, Sirius looked as though he were about to collapse from shock.

"Harry," said Sirius sharply, "this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents."

Peter always hated when James and Sirius used to call him that, Remus remembered as Sirius spoke. And I used to defend him. But they were right.

"I know. We'll take him up to the castle," Harry implored. "We'll hand him over to the Dementors. He can go to Azkaban ... just don't kill him."

"Harry!" Peter clutched at Harry's legs, groveling. "You -- thank you -- it's more than I deserve -- thank you --"

It's exactly what you deserve, Remus thought. Death is too easy an end for you. Better to give you to the Dementors and let you suffer for what you did. Only you're too stupid to realise that.

"Get off me." Harry kicked Peter away from him scornfully. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because I don't reckon my dad would've wanted his two best friends to become killers -- just for you."

Harry finally understood that Remus and Sirius were his only real link to his parents. If we kill Peter, we'll be sent to Azkaban for murder. Even if the truth comes out, there's no war on now to justify killing him. He looked at Sirius who was looking back at him, questioningly. It's Harry's revenge as much as ours. Do we have more right to choose than he?

As if he heard the thought, Sirius lowered his wand. Remus brought his wand down as well. Sirius turned to Harry.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry. But think ... think what he did ..." he said gently. His words surprised Remus. To give up his revenge -- their revenge -- because he thought Harry deserved it more, well, Remus was the only other person in the world who could truly appreciate what that meant.

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry said again. "If anyone deserves that place, he does ..."

Remus held his breath until he saw Sirius nod ever so slightly. The decision was made. "Very well," Remus said at last. "Stand aside, Harry." When Harry did not move, he added, "I'm going to tie him up. That's all, I swear."

Harry stood aside and Remus stepped forward. He knew the spell as well as Snape did. The bonds he placed on Peter were nearly as tight and just as inescapable. Unless one happened to be a shapeshifter.

Sirius saw that risk as well. "But if you transform, Peter, we will kill you," he said, Snape's wand still pointed at the man's chest. "You agree, Harry?"

Harry looked at Peter and nodded.

We'll have to warn the Ministry and the guards at Azkaban about Peter's little talent, thought Remus. Special allowances must be made. Maybe there's a way to stop him from changing?

The sooner they got out of here and got this whole mess straightened out, the sooner he would have a chance to talk to Sirius privately. And that was something he wanted very badly to do. "Right," he said, turning to Ron. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing." He placed a quick ferula spell on the damaged leg before helping the boy to his feet.

"That's better, thanks," said Ron, and Remus was once again flooded with giddiness.

Sirius was innocent and they had Peter to prove it. Harry and his friends believed them. Life was never again going to be as lonely as it had been. Things could now begin Getting Back to Normal.

"What about Professor Snape?" Hermione's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Suppressing an expression of distaste, Remus bent over to lay two fingers on the Potions master's limp wrist. "There's nothing seriously wrong with him," he said, feeling the strong, slow pulse. Who knew? He has a heart after all. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time he could actually recall ever touching Severus Snape, and he quickly drew his hand back, wiping his fingers inconspicuously on the sleeve of his robes.

He looked up at Hermione and smiled. "You were just a little -- overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er -- perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this." He pointed his wand at the prone figure. "Mobilicorpus."

Slowly, the unconscious man was raised into an upright position. The invisible force supporting his weight made Remus think unpleasantly of the posture of a hanged man. He hoped the children would not find the sight unnerving. To cover his unease, he bent down to pick up the Invisibility Cloak, stowing it safely in the inner pocket of his robes.

"Two of us should be chained to this, just to make sure." Sirius was poking Peter with the worn toe of his shoe, voice still scratchy with disuse.

"I'll do it," Remus said quickly, catching and holding Sirius's eyes. It was not that he did not trust Sirius not to harm Peter on the way back to the castle, so much as -- well, I wouldn't blame him if he did, but best not to take chances.

Sirius nodded slowly, just as Ron piped up, "and me." He was still looking at Peter with disgust as he limped gingerly forward on his bandaged leg.

Sirius waved Snape's wand and heavy manacles appeared out of nowhere. Remus blinked in surprise. Summoning was a very complex spell which required a great deal of concentration and power. Magic still had to observe the law of conservation of matter, which states that matter cannot be created nor destroyed, so the manacles obviously had to come from somewhere. Remus knew that the only way to summon an object in this way was to hold a perfect image of it in one's mind, and it had to belong to the person doing the spell.

These are the chains he wore for twelve years. Remus swallowed. He knows every scrape and nick and rust spot better than he knows his own face. Or mine. He did not want to touch the cold, black things which had held his lover all those years when he had not, but he bravely put out his arm and allowed Sirius to clamp the cuff around his wrist.

The bedraggled man caught the question in his eyes as he looked up from the chain and he nodded, giving Remus's hand an imperceptible squeeze before turning to secure Ron's chain.

At last, following the lead of Hermione's cat, they were ready to leave the confines of the Shrieking Shack.

About bloody time, too! thought Remus. The place felt hot and stuffy, cramped and close. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of his neck making the skin prickle. The excitement of the evening must be getting to me. I just need some fresh air. The cold iron about his wrist made his skin crawl.

It was a struggle getting through the tunnel back to the Whomping Willow chained together as they were. Even unencumbered, Remus had a difficult time negotiating the passage quickly, his height and the low ceiling forcing him to walk bent nearly in half. And now, chained to the reluctant and still-snivelling Peter and the injured Ron, Remus was beginning to think it would be daylight before they emerged from the earth.

He was trying to focus not only on getting through the passageway but on keeping his wand trained on Peter. If the shack had seemed close, the tunnel made him feel downright claustrophobic. For a moment he felt Snape's bonds around his chest and throat again and had to pause, gasping for air he knew to be there.

Don't be a fool, Lupin, he chided himself. You've been through here a thousand times or more. You know every stone, every turning. Why lose your nerve now? He steeled his resolve. You have a job to do. Get these children safely to the castle. Deal with Peter. Clear Sirius's name. Hold yourself together, man! The night's not over yet.

"You know what this means?" he heard Sirius say.

"You're free," Harry's voice replied.

Free. Sirius, free. Remus's heart lifted and he felt able to draw breath again. A smile slowly began to spread across his face, tugging slightly at old scars as he listened to Sirius nervously raise the possibility of Harry coming to live with him, and Harry's eager acceptance. With us, he thought firmly, though Sirius did not mention that part. Remus was sure the omission was only due to the fact that Sirius had not discussed the plan with him yet, and that this was not the time to broach that particular subject with the boy.

He never doubted that Sirius meant to live with him again, to pick up where they had left off all those years before and live this unexpected, inexplicable second chance to the fullest. We deserve a happy ending, he thought. We've earned it.

Moments later, Remus felt with relief a breath of cool night air on his too-hot face. The stresses and excitement of the night had taken their toll and he could feel his hands shaking as he emerged behind the cat who had cleverly planted his paws against the tree's secret knot.

He waited with growing impatience as, one by one, the others rose from the depths. He fancied he could almost hear the blood pulsing in his ears.

The night was warm and dark and full of the sharp scents of late spring as they made their awkward, silent way back towards the lighted windows of the castle. Remus felt uneasy. Something was about to happen. He jerked rather more roughly than necessary on the chain that bound him to his former friend. "One wrong move, Peter ..." he growled threateningly.

He had been about to say, "and I'll tear your throat out," but he stopped himself, shaking his head. No, that was not right. It was an unnecessarily violent thought, alien to the gentle nature of Professor Remus J. Lupin. And it might frighten the children. Why would I say such a thing?

And then suddenly, and with horrible, cold clarity, a light came on in Remus's head and, as if summoned by the realisation, cool, pale moonlight washed over him. He froze, forcing those bound to him to halt as well. Something bumped into him from behind but his mind was racing too quickly to take notice.

Heightened senses, prickling skin, touchy temper, trembling. Not the symptoms of an overexcited, physically worn-out man. His mind went white with dread. He had not taken his potion tonight. In all the excitement since seeing Peter's name appear on the Marauder's Map he had forgotten, for the first time since he was six years old, the fact that tonight was the full moon.

The dim, moonlit world around him began to swirl. He could hear nothing but the sound of his own blood pounding through his veins. Pain lanced through him as his body began to change, and with his body, his thoughts became simpler -- more animal.

Hunt. Bite. Blood. Tear. Rend. Kill ....