Consequences

As a child, one is continually led to believe that any mistakes can be tended. Even if you steal your father's wand and through a foolish wave explode half the kitchen, it only takes a scolding and a little magic from your mother to restore everything. Children are lulled into a false sense of unreality. They eventually believe that nothing they do has lasting effects. And more often than not, they are correct in thinking this.

That's why I've never come to terms with living an entire double life because of one childish error.

Even when I got the bite, my parents thought it could be reversed. That somewhere someone would have the cure. That cure has still eluded me, though I've searched high and low for it ever since.

No, because I was foolish enough as a young child to get the bite - I've been destined to live out my life as a werewolf.

I remember all too well knowing that I was different. It's a stage that every child goes through, of course, but most children don't turn into a wild wolf once a month. I never could get too close to anybody.

That is, until Hogwarts, of course.

It's perfectly fair to say that James, Sirius and Peter changed my life then. The first time, they changed it for the better. Years later, history records that they changed my life again. The second time, it was changed for the worse. And then it was many more years before Sirius returned and turned my world around again - this time for the better.

If there is a fourth time, I am hoping it will be Peter's life which changes for the worse, and Sirius and I who reap the benefits.

Not a day goes by when I don't think of the four of us. I can't help thinking that everything started with that bite. A simple mistake by a naïve child leading to the death of a good man and his wife, leading to the enslavement of another man to evil. Leading to the imprisonment of an innocent man for twelve years; longer if you consider the time he spent hiding after his escape. If I wasn't what I was, none of that would have happened.

I blame it all on myself, and in that way, Sirius and I are identical. I can see in his eyes the way he still shoulders the blame for the deaths of James and Lily. No amount of words I say can ease his pain in this regard.

It's hard to believe that Sirius and I are the only ones left of our little group.

It is in fact harder to believe that of the other two, one caused the other's death. I feel so much anger inside toward Peter - the amount of energy I expend on this emotion is somewhat unhealthy. However, it's nothing to what Sirius feels.

With good reason. Peter's betrayal sentenced Sirius to more than a decade in Azkaban, a fate many consider to be worse than death. Twelve years that I myself wasted on trying to hate Sirius and feeling sorrow for Peter.

How wrong I was! All the time I suspected Sirius was the spy, while he suspected me, and neither of us saw what we would never believe. I have no way of knowing how Sirius felt when he arrived at the Hollow that night; he talks about it very rarely.

I usually have quite an ability to read the feelings of others. But Sirius shuts himself off when it comes near that topic, surrounds himself with a cloak of outrage and a wish for vengeance. I'm certain he will reap his revenge some day. But otherwise, I can read Sirius's feelings as clearly as a book.

I wish James was still around to read. He always did wear his emotions on his sleeve, and I need his opinion on the biggest aspect of my life. I need to know what James would think of Sirius and I.

I'm nearly certain he would approve - nearly. I can plainly see that lopsided grin as he'd toss his fringe back and shake our hands comically, congratulating us.

But thanks to our fourth quarter, I'll never get that gratification.

I wish someone had been around to tell me how much my error would cost me. But nobody was around, and now it's far too late.