Trust and Betrayal: A Prequel

Prologue

1981

High Street in Hogsmeade was vibrant, alive with throngs of witches and wizards laughing, embracing and shouting, jubilant as if just awakening from a bewitched slumber, finding their voices at last after a long, enforced silence. It was evening on this chilly, November evening, but the festivities celebrating their first day of liberation from the tyranny of Lord Voldemort had not let up. The shopkeepers were delighted at the booming trade, and the pubs were lively with drink and song. The scene repeated itself in magical homes and communities throughout the country as they released a collective and joyful sigh of relief.

The exception to this buoyant frivolity was sitting inside the insistently quiet and always foreboding Hog's Head Inn. That is why, perhaps, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had chosen this place above the others for a moment of respite and a pint of mead. Dumbledore was tired, perhaps more tired than he had ever been in his many, many long years of life. His body felt heavy, his bones weary and his soul aggrieved. It had been a very long day.

The barman of the Hog's Head, a tall, scraggly looking man with a filthy apron, his long hair pulled back, served a glass of firewhisky to the only other customer in the bar, sitting hidden beneath his hooded robe in the corner. After wiping his hands with a dirty rag, the barman walked across the room and sat down opposite the Headmaster.

"It's done, then?"

"Yes, Aberforth, it's done," Dumbledore sighed.

"I'd think you'd be out there," the barman indicated with a toss of his head to the Main Street, "enjoying the celebration."

"Oh, I've been out there. I've been in many places today. It is a wonderful day that should be celebrated. I just needed a quiet moment before...."

"Before what?"

"Before the last of my duties are complete." Dumbledore took a drink from his mug and felt the warmth spread to his long, tapering fingers.

"The boy?" Aberforth was clearly a man of few words.

"Yes. Hagrid is bringing him. I would have done it myself, but I was asked to assist the Minister of Magic with some--unpleasant business this afternoon."

Aberforth Dumbledore shook his scraggy head. "I heard about Sirius Black. Wouldn't have thought it possible. Sure, he liked his pranks, but he didn't seem the type to--well--do what they say he did."

Albus looked at his brother with some amusement. "Do I detect some actual emotion from you, Aberforth? It's not your usual style, but I must say it pleases me."

Aberforth continued, ignoring the remark. "I got to know the lad some after he left school. Came in here fairly often. He was not the Muggle-killing sort."

Albus felt a hollow space open in his heart. "I would have agreed with you had I not just heard accounts first-hand from eyewitnesses. But each of their stories was the same: that it was Black who killed Pettigrew and--the unfortunate Muggles who just happened to be in the vicinity." Albus took off his spectacles to squeeze the space between his eyes, as if trying to erase the horrific images of devastation and death from his mind. He sighed again, put his spectacles back on and looked intently at his brother.

"Aberforth, my dear brother, I need you to do something important for me."

"Of course, Albus." Aberforth smiled. "Something to keep hidden?" He guessed that his role in the Order of the Phoenix was apparently still relevant, even with Voldemort gone.

Dumbledore returned his smile. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small phial that contained a swirling, silvery-white substance. Covering it with his hand, he pushed it towards the barman. "There may come a time when the boy will want to see it. If he asks, give it to him."

Aberforth pocketed the phial discretely and raised a curious eyebrow. "It's his? But he's just a baby."

"The memory is the truth of what happened. Aside from it being a personal and historical record, it may be important in case...." Albus knew that while the reign of Voldemort's terror had ended, it was most likely not over. "Just in case... please keep it safe."

1. What the Future Beholds: 1978

~*~ Three Years Earlier~*~

Severus Snape
It was the end of a long, dull day, and Severus was alone in Amberson's Apothecary cleaning up the phials and cauldrons and straightening up the Preventative Potions counter. As he scrubbed a particularly nasty spill that had landed on the workroom floor, Severus pondered on how he had come to be here and, more importantly, where he was going. Whatever his future beheld he knew it certainly wouldn't involve cleaning armadillo bile. He sat up and inspected the floor. It shone. He could have used his wand, of course, but Severus didn't think it would have done the same job. Besides, he didn't mind getting his hands dirty. Sometimes it was the only way.

Seamus Dayfwyd, the owner of this establishment, had approached Severus after his graduation from Hogwarts last year and begged him to take the job. Despite passing 6 out of 7 of the N.E.W.T. courses he had taken in his final year, Severus loathed all of the career paths that his Head of House, Horace Slughorn, had recommended, especially since most of them were in the Ministry of Magic. Severus believed he was destined for greatness--for something important; for the rest of the wizarding world to finally recognize and acknowledge his unique abilities. No--there was no Ministry job worthy of his talents. He knew Lord Voldemort was recruiting Death Eaters, and he had already had two--offers--to join their ranks. Despite his intrigue and fascination with the Dark Arts, the persistent encouragement and support from Lucius Malfoy, and the challenge and enjoyment in fulfilling his patron's 'Special Orders', Severus couldn't see himself being a slave to anyone--not even the greatest and most feared wizard alive. However, he knew instinctively that the time would come when he'd have to make a choice. Until then, he still had ends to meet, so Severus had grudgingly agreed to accept Seamus' offer. Besides, Severus didn't mind creating potions and elixirs in the back of the shop where he could work in solitude while Seamus dealt with the customers. He also had the freedom to further his own experiments and develop his skills. Still, Severus felt his impatience growing alongside a certain feeling that his life was about to change. The question in his mind was whether this was a change he would make for himself or if it would be made for him.

Severus was placing the last of the clean glass phials in their cupboard when the tinkle of bells at the shop door indicated that a last-minute customer had arrived. Irritation flared in Severus. Their unwanted presence would delay his return home. He swooped down to the counter, his black robes swirling, and glared at the customer, a young woman with a child. She was young, in her mid-twenties and had long, auburn hair. He felt his irritation increase. The woman took a step backwards, clearly startled at his advance. Severus noticed she had green eyes.

"Yes?" Severus snapped, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "We're about to close. What do you want?"

The child, a girl of about five, burst into tears. Severus smiled grimly. He often had that effect on children.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lily Evans Potter
Sirius Black, James Potter's Best Man and best friend, held up his glass to the crowd assembled in the Potters' garden and called them to attention.

"I'd like to make a toast to the lovely bride and her less than lovely groom! James, I don't know how you actually succeeded in making her fall in love with you. I guess you must have cast some special magic, since begging and pleading for over six years was certainly ineffective--and being my friend was certainly no help! And, lovely Lily, we all thought you were the smartest girl in school, so I can only surmise that you must have completely lost your mind in agreeing to marry James!"

Everyone laughed, none more so than Lily and James, holding hands at their wedding feast table.

This was happiest day of Lily's life. Not even her sister Petunia, who had been forced to come and was now sitting alone in the darkest part of the garden, could ruin this moment. The ceremony had been beautiful, and she'd treasure the memory of James' tears as he spoke his vows. The summer's day had brought sunshine, casting its brilliant light on the garden filled with an explosion of roses, gardenias and, of course, lilies. Most of all, she felt grateful that she was able to share this day with all the people that she loved and cared about the most: James' parents, who were, they feared, nearing the end of their very long life. It was a blessing they were here to see their beloved, only son wed and happy. Lily's parents, yes--even her sister, her dearest friends Alice, Annette and Helene, and her mentor from the Department of Mysteries, Corran Masten. She was also pleased that her former Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, had agreed to come. For the briefest moment, however, she felt a slight twinge as she felt the absence of one good friend who was not there.

After the toasts were complete and guests made a beeline for the wedding cake, James kissed her lightly on the forehead and asked, "D'you mind if I have a word with the gents?"

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Gents? Do we have some of those here? Oh! You mean that motley crew of yours? Well, since they did clean up rather well for today--off you go!" Lily laughed, pushing him away. "But remember your promise!" she admonished with mock seriousness.

"No pranks--I promise!" James bowed, his hand over his heart. He kissed her again and bounced over to his old school mates: Sirius, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew.

She smiled as she watched him lope off, his attempts to keep his hair in one place having failed miserably. Lily pushed back the strands of her own auburn hair that had escaped her attempt at keep them atop her head and got up to seek out her own best friend. Alice was pouring herself punch, some of which promptly spilled as soon as Lily put her arm around her shoulder.

"How perfectly just like me," Alice grimaced, looking at the damage to her robes. "How they ever agreed to let me train as an Auror, I have no idea." She took out her wand and removed the spill with a quick motion.

"Because you're bloody clever and can keep a straight eye and wand when you put your mind to it, that's why!" The two friends sat down together. "Besides, spilling punch at a wedding must be an omen of happy times!" Lily teased. "I'm so glad your wedding is next week!"

Alice's face flushed. "Once Frank heard that you and James were tying the knot, he insisted we do the same."

Alice was the only person in the world Lily allowed to use the shortened version of her name. Her heart warmed to see her friend so happy. "You love him so much, don't you, Alice?" Lily squeezed Alice's hand as she nodded. "He's a wonderful man. He's lucky to have you!"

"Well, it took him long enough to notice me at school, didn't it?! We had to lock him in the dungeon before he'd even talk to me!" Both girls laughed at the memory of their plot to force the two of them together in their sixth year.

Alice went silent, and then suddenly grabbed both of Lily's hands, looking serious. "Lily, I was going to wait until later, but, well, I think it's important."

Lily was startled at her sudden shift in mood. "What is it, Alice? Is anything wrong?"

"Oh, no... nothing's wrong!" Alice started to rub her arm, an old habit that she fell into when faced with uncomfortable situations. "I'm sorry! I'm just not good at doing this. I told them someone else should do it, but they said that since I'm your best friend I-"

"Alice! Stop rambling and tell me!!"

"Sorry, Lil! Okay. Well... I know you love your new job in the Department of Mysteries, although I hate that you can't tell me what an Unspeakable does...."

"Alice! Focus!"

"Right... well." Alice took a deep breath, looked around, and then leaned forward lowering her voice. "Dumbledore has formed a special group--Frank and I are in it. He felt the Ministry wasn't doing enough--the casualties are so high...." Her voice dropped off a bit as she paused. She took a breath and continued. "So we have all sworn to fight You-Know-Who, together. It's very dangerous and very secret."

"Alice!" Lily exclaimed, feeling a bit hurt and more than a bit surprised. "How can you have been involved in something like that without telling me?! I'm your best friend!"

"Well, the whole point of a secret organisation is that you can't tell people, silly!" Alice rolled her eyes and poked at Lily. "Besides, you keep secrets from me, don't you?"

Lily couldn't argue with this. She knew her friend hated not knowing about her work. Lily didn't respond, so Alice continued.

"Anyway, at our last meeting Dumbledore and the others agreed that with your abilities at charms and potions and James' defence skills, you and James would--be how did Dumbledore put it?" Alice steepled her fingers below her chin and looked over imaginary spectacles, using her most Dumbledore-ish voice, 'invaluable to the cause'!"

Lily laughed and shook her head, slightly astonished at having this unexpected discussion on her wedding day.

"We want you to join, Lil, and I've been asked to extend the invitation!"

Lily glanced at James whom she noticed was talking with Frank Longbottom, apparently having the same conversation. James looked over to her at the same time and, in their moment of eye contact, both nodded in silent agreement. Lily turned back to Alice and smiled.

Alice started rubbing her arm again. "I'm sorry, Lily. I'm a dolt, bringing this up today--of all days!"

"Alice, it's all right!"

Alice looked dubious.

"No, really! Of course we accept!" Lily took her hand and looked directly into her dear friend's eyes. "You know that whatever needs to be done, we'll be there." Alice smiled broadly and they hugged. They stood and Lily hooked her arm into Alice's and walked towards the cake, which was now considerably smaller. "Does this 'secret group' have a name? Is there an initiation ceremony? A secret handshake? Tell me everything!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Peter Pettigrew
When Peter came to, he found himself blindfolded with his hands tied tightly behind him. He was momentarily befuddled and thought he might be dreaming, except for the pain on the right side of his head. Then he remembered: he'd been on his way home from work when two masked figures had approached him; the last thing he recalled was a feeling of terror when the taller one pulled out his wand.

Peter started shaking so badly his feet gave way beneath him and he crumpled to what he felt was hard, cold dirt. He couldn't see but heard laughter--he assumed towards him. Well, he was used to people laughing at his expense, but this felt--different. He sniffed to see if he could figure out where he was. The air smelled damp, musty. The laughter echoed. He heard the distant sound of the sea. He guessed he was in a cave. But why? Why would Death Eaters (for he had recognised those masks) want him? Whatever the reason, Peter knew this was bad... very, very bad.

"Hullo?" he called out. "Why am I here? What do you want? There must be some mistake!" Peter pleaded with--well--with whoever was nearby. No one bothered to answer, but he suddenly felt himself grabbed roughly, dragged some distance and thrown to the ground.

"Leave us."

The sound of this new voice made Peter's body chill like it had been cast into a deep vat of ice. As footsteps faded, the blindfold and bindings disappeared. The space was lit so dimly, however, that Peter still found it hard to see clearly. He squinted around, rubbing his wrists.

"Pettigrew. So nice of you to join us," said the voice, gently caressing each word. "I hope you had a pleasant journey. Stand up."

He tried to move his legs, but found his lower extremities frozen with fear, as if they had become one with the earth beneath him.

"Get UP!"

An unseen hand - or some terrible force--lifted him with a jolt to his feet. Peter struggled to maintain his balance while still shaking furiously. He didn't want to look at the voice, yet felt his head compelled upwards until his eyes beheld the form of a man--or something resembling a man. Although Peter had never seen him before, he knew it was Lord Voldemort.

The eyes. The eyes were both wondrous and horrible, black with flashes of red like the pit of a fire in full force.

"I have important work for you Peter. I understand you are an Animagus?"

He didn't know how he managed to get his own voice to work but Peter responded, "Yes... I am... but no one knows about...."

"I know everything, Peter. I know about you, and I think you can serve me well."

"Me?" Peter squeaked. "I'm not that special.... Sir... I'm sure you're mistaken. I--I don't think I'd be much use...." He tried to back away, but he was frozen to the spot.

"Oh, I disagree, Peter. You can, shall we say, squeeze into places undetected and you have, I assume, excellent hearing." Peter tried to avert his gaze, but was unable to avoid the glare of the eyes boring into him.

"I have found that your friends--and other old school acquaintances--have become quite a nuisance lately. I need information, and I think you'll be very helpful in providing it to me."

Peter could hardly take in the enormity of who was in front of him, let alone what he was being asked to do. And yet... here was the most feared wizard in the world, needing his help! Peter Pettigrew--helping Lord Voldemort!

He was uncertain how the words found themselves escaping from his mouth. "You want me to... to spy for you? But...."

Voldemort hissed. "There are no 'buts,' Peter. I don't make requests. Do you understand?"

Instinctively, Peter bowed his head. "Yes, sir. I understand." He thought he was going to be sick.

"Good!" Voldemort replied lightly. "I'm sure you won't want to disappoint me."

"No, my--Lord," Peter said, his heart beating fiercely. He tried to remember to breathe.

"You will, of course, tell no one of this. Even my Death Eaters won't know of your involvement."

Peter looked in the direction from which he had been dragged. "But what about the two that brought me here?" Peter asked. "They know about me."

Lord Voldemort laughed. It was a horrible laugh--high pitched and piercing. "Don't fret about them. They're already dead." He put his hand on Peter's head and stroked it with his long fingers. "I don't want to share you with anyone, Peter. You're mine. All mine."

_________

A/N - Corran Masten appears at Lily's wedding and future chapters courtesy of his creator, Morweniris. Corran's story is told in Mor's wonderful fic, Unspeakable Truth - http://www.dissendium.com/forums.php?m=posts&q=21898