prcng-sâ:
   âDistracted?â
Something in his chest flared up at the word, defensively, as if he hadnât literally just been thinking it a second before, as if, if Peter realized he was distracted, heâd know suddenly about the ring, would try to take it from him, like Caradoc kept doing, like anyone would do if he let anyone else find out what he was working on⊠Who knew who else Caradoc had told, who else sheâd shown it to, how many other people might try to take it from himâor from her, while she had it, unsafe in her hands when she didnât even have a wand to protect it like he didâŠ
He needed to throw Peter off the scent of it, and fast, make something else up, some other reason for Peter to think he was distracted, some other thing to be distracted about, so his friend wouldnât question why his hand kept drifting to his pocket when he was here, like he was double checking to make sure it was still there.
   âEr, right, I suppose I am. JustâŠ. worried about Sirius, is all.â
It came out a little hollow, a little less than sincere, but he hoped Peter wouldnât notice the differenceâhe was worried about Sirius, after all, but somehow distantly, not all-consuming in the way it might have once been. Once, James Potter would have stormed the border himself to get his brother back the moment he heard something had gone wrong. But⊠that was when he had been seventeen and thought he was the only important thing in the world, before Dumbledoreâs plan, before heâd accepted that it was so much bigger than them all. And⊠if you can only understand this ring, a voice at the back of his head kept saying, youâll save Sirius anyway, no matter what happens. Youâll save them all. Youâll be a hero.Â
So it had been wrong to even mention it. It was clear as day that he wasnât exactly pleased about him asking what was distracting him, and he understood, no, he really did, but that didnât make it sting any less when all he wanted was even just a fraction of what he used to have with him. But that was selfish, that was asking too much. It was a miracle James even wanted to spend any time with him at all, that heâd been something close to glad that he was back across the border, he shouldnât have been expecting anything more than that. Hell, he would have understood if James stopped showing up, if he changed his mind. That didnât mean it wouldnât hurt, though.
His response didnât sound quite right, which was confusing to say the least. It wouldâve made sense if it was Sirius that was distracting him. Peter himself was terrified for his friend, knowing exactly what it was like to be hunted by the other side, to have to dodge and run, to fear for your life, but knowing that there was nothing else to do but try, if there was to be chance to help, or even just live. Sirius was braver, bolder, stronger, and heâd done it for someone else, he had to be okay, because it wouldnât be fair if he wasnât, and Peter was.
Peter shook that thought from his mind, and tried to shake the feeling that James still wasnât being entirely honest with him.
âI get it, but... if I can make it across the border all the way to the castle, away from them, then Sirius can, too. Heâs stronger than I am, smarter. Iâm just a rat, and I made it. And, hey, maybe by the time he makes it here, Maryâll have figured out how to get rid of the Mark,â he offered, trying for optimism. His hand moved unconsciously to rub his forearm. âI think weâre getting pretty close.â














