My wardrobe has been lacking a wizard cape, luckily I had the perfect fabric for it
I was looking for a nice straightforward project and then I decided to make it harder for no reason by doing some reverse applique shapes in the lining 🫣
The Rat Who Lived [Masterlist] l Previous Part l Next Part
"Well, hello, Peter," said Lupin pleasantly. "Long time, no see."
Peter trembled. His worst nightmare was becoming a reality. "S-Sirius . . . R-Remus . . ." he stuttered. "My friends . . . my old friends . . ."
Sirius's wand arm rose threathningly but Remus seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Peter, his voice light and casual.
"We've been having a little chat, Peter, 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 —"
"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead, "you don't believe him, do you . . .? He tried to kill me, Remus. . . ."
"So we've heard," said Remus, more coldly now. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so —"
"He's come to try and kill me again!" Peter interrupted, pointing at Sirius. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too. . . . You've got to help me, Remus. . . ."
Sirius's face looked more skull-like than ever as he scowled at Peter.
"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," Remus said.
"Sorted things out?" squealed Peter, looking wildly about him, eyes taking in the boarded windows and the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"
"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" said Remus, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"
"He's got Dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"
Sirius started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room. It scared Peter more than his scowl.
"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" Sirius said. "What, scared to hear your old master's name?" Sirius added when he saw Peter flinch. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"
"Don't know what you mean, Sirius —" muttered Peter, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.
"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," said Sirius, smiling evily. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter. . . . They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them. . . . I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information . . . and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. . . . If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter —"
"Don't know . . . what you're talking about . . . ," said Peter again, more shrilly than ever. He wiped his face on his sleeve and looked up at Remus. "You don't believe this — this madness, Remus —"
"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Remus evenly, reasonable as always.
"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Peter. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"
Sirius's face contorted. "How dare you," he growled. "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 . . . and James. . . ."
Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was finding it difficult to breath. "Me, a spy . . . must be out of your mind . . . never . . . don't know how you can say such a —"
"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Sirius hissed, so venomously that Peter shuffled a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan . . . a bluff. . . . Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you. . . . It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."
Peter was muttering distractedly, unable to stitch together coherent words.
"Professor Lupin?" Hermione said suddenly. "Can — can I say something?"
"Certainly, Hermione," said Remus courteously, his face falling to a smile when he turned to her.
"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!" said Peter shrilly, holding on to his last shard of hope. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"
"I'll tell you why," said Sirius. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for twelve years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him. . . ."
Peter opened his mouth and closed it several times. Was he really this predictable?
"Er — Mr. Black — Sirius?" said Hermione. "If you don't mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"
"Thank you!" gasped Peter, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I —"
But Remus silenced him with a look.
"I don't know how I did it," Sirius said slowly, pondering over his words. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the dementors couldn't suck it out of me . . . but it kept me sane and knowing who I am . . . helped me keep my powers . . . so when it all became . . . too much . . . I could transform in my cell . . . become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know. . . ." He swallowed. "They feel their way toward people by sensing their emotions. . . . They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog . . . but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand. . . .
"But then I saw Peter in that picture," he continued, ". . . I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry . . . perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again. . . ."
Peter shook his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Sirius as though hypnotized.
". . . ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies . . . and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors. . . .
"So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive. . . ." Sirius continued. "It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn't destroy it. . . . It wasn't a happy feeling . . . it was an obsession . . . but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog. . . . It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused. . . . I was thin, very thin . . . thin enough to slip through the bars. . . . I swam as a dog back to the mainland. . . . I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. 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. . . . Believe me," croaked Sirius. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them."
Peter felt like he'd been handed a death sentence when he saw Harry nod.
"No!" he gasped and fell to his knees. He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him. He was never one too proud to beg. "Sirius — it's me . . . it's Peter . . . your friend . . . you wouldn't . . ."
But Sirius kicked out and Peter recoiled. "There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them,"
"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Remus instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this . . . Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"
"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," said Remus. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.
"Forgive me, Remus," said Sirius.
"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," said Remus, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?"
"Of course," said Sirius, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"
"Yes, I think so," said Remus grimly.
"You wouldn't . . . you won't . . . ," gasped Peter. And he scrambled around to Ron.
"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 was staring at him with the utmost revulsion. "I let you sleep in my bed!" he said.
"Kind boy . . . kind master . . ." Peter crawled toward Ron, "you won't let them do it. . . . I was your rat. . . . I was a good pet. . . ."
"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," said Sirius harshly.
Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Peter's reach. Peter turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.
"Sweet girl . . . clever girl . . . you — you won't let them. . . . Help me. . . ."
The girl pulled her robes out of Peter's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.
Peter knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Harry.
"Harry . . . Harry . . . you look just like your father . . . just like him. . . ."
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Sirius suddenly. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"
"Harry," whispered Peter, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed. . . . James would have understood, Harry . . . he would have shown me mercy. . . ."
Both Sirius and Remus strode forward, seized Peter's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," said Sirius. "Do you deny it?"
Peter burst into tears. This was it. He was going to die any minute now.
"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!" bellowed Sirius. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"
"He — he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Peter. "W-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"
"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" said Sirius, a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"
"You don't understand!" whined Peter. "He would have killed me, Sirius!"
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Sirius roared. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"
Sirius and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.
"You should have realized," said Remus quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."
Peter can't say he was surprised. He curled in on himself and was about to accept his fate but-
"NO!" Harry yelled. He ran forward, placing himself between Peter and Sirius and Remus. "You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."
Sirius and Remus both looked staggered.
"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Sirius snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."
"I know," Harry panted. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors. . . . He can go to Azkaban . . . but don't kill him."
"Harry!" gasped Peter, and he flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You — thank you — it's more than I deserve — thank you —"
"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing his hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because I don't reckon my dad would've wanted his best friends to become killers — just for you."
No one moved or made a sound except Peter, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. He'd never come this close to death.
"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," said Sirius, lowering his wand. "But think . . . think what he did. . . ."
"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does. . . ."
"Very well," said Remus. "Stand aside, Harry."
Harry hesitated.
"I'm going to tie him up," Remus reassured him. "That's all, I swear."
Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Remus's wand this time, and next moment, Peter was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.
"But if you transform, Peter," growled Sirius, his own wand pointing at Peter too, "we will kill you. You agree, Harry?"
Harry looked down at Peter and nodded so that Peter could see him.
"Right," said Remus, suddenly businesslike. "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 hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, "Ferula."
"That's better," Ron said, testing out his leg. "Thanks."
"What about Professor Snape?" said Hermione, looking down at Snape.
"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Remus, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "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 muttered, "Mobilicorpus."
"And two of us should be chained to this," said Sirius, nudging Peter with his toe. "Just to make sure."
"I'll do it," said Remus.
"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward.
Sirius conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Peter was upright again, left arm chained to Remus's right, right arm to Ron's left.
And they stared their slow walk out of the Shack.
The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off towards it.
"One wrong move, Peter," said Remus threateningly, with his wand still pointed sideways at Peter's chest.
Peter could only whimper in response.
Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Sirius, his chin bumping on his chest. And then —
A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.
Snape collided with Remus, Peter, and Ron, who had stopped abruptly.
Peter turned frightened eyes to Remus and saw that he had gone rigid. Then Remus's limbs began to shake.
"Oh, my —" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"
"Run," Sirius whispered. "Run. Now. Leave it to me — RUN!"
There was a terrible snarling noise. Remus's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws.
As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Peter. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other —
Pettigrew used the chaos to his benefit and dived for Remus's dropped wand. Ron, unsteady on his bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang — Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.
Peter felt unreasonably happy about seeing the cat fall like that. He was about cast another spell when-
"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled, pointing his own wand at Pettigrew; Remus's wand flew high into the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" Harry shouted, running forward.
But Pettigrew didn't obey. He transformed, his bald tail whipped through the manacle on Ron's outstretched arm, and he scurried through the grass to the dark expanse of the Forbidden Forest.
He'd never been this grateful for Remus's Lycanthropy.
