Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 7396
Characters: Peter Pettigrew, Madeleine Yaxley (OC), Mrs Pettigrew, Voldemort, James Potter, Lily Potter, Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Arthur Weasley

I'm in over my head, and I know it. I tell myself there must be a way out at least a dozen times a day. There must be. But I'm either too thick or just too damned scared to come up with anything that might work. I seem to be well and truly stuck.

I don't expect you to like me, or even feel sorry for me; I'm not that thick. But at least give me a chance to explain how it all came about. I honestly didn't mean for things to go like they have.

It's all Madeleine Yaxley's fault, really. I was less than subtle about my obsession with her during our school years, and she easily turned that to her advantage. The woman was a natural, even at the age of sixteen, at using sex to get people -- well, me, anyway -- to do what she wanted. And I suspect from the poisonous looks I got from a number of other students while in her company that I wasn't the only one.

Tears, too. And that was my undoing. I might have escaped her thrall at the end of our school years, when I didn't see her every day anymore. But one day, more than a year later, I come home to find her drinking tea with my mother.

"Peter!" she cries, rising to embrace me with a smile that, if you don't know her, you might be forgiven for thinking it genuine. "It's been far too long, Darling!" She kisses me on both cheeks.

Mother looks pleased. And why not? A pretty, pure-blood girl calling her only son "Darling"? Unheard of.

Maddy takes my arm and steers me out into the garden for a private chat. She turns on all her charm, claims she misses me, and isn't it sad that we've drifted apart since school finished, and wouldn't it be nice to have things be like old times again? She smiles prettily and offers chaste kisses and rests her hand oh-so-casually on my knee.

I try to be strong, really I do, but then come the waterworks. She's fallen in with a bad lot, she tells me, and they're meeting tonight, and there's no way she can get out of going. She'll feel so much safer, she says, if only I'll come along with her. Then, at least, she'll know she has one good and true friend by her side.

I still almost say no, but she throws her arms around me and sobs against my chest.

"Oh, Peter!" she wails. "I'm so scared!"

And so I go with her. It's amazing how fast everything goes downhill after that. I know a number of the people at the gathering. Mostly people from school who made me very nervous, and quite a few of the same people who gave me dirty looks when I was with Maddy then.

Maddy herself, once we arrive, seems anything but scared, and so far as having me by her side goes, she abandons me within minutes. It's an amazingly short step from being alone among Death Eaters to becoming one of them.

In the weeks that follow the meeting, a number of people drop by to "chat". Offers are made, both enticements and threats. Maddy even takes me to her bed again, and gives me a night I'm unlikely ever to forget. In short, it's not long before I'm too inextricably entangled in the whole business to escape. Not my fault. Not really.

At first, it isn't so bad. Almost a year goes by, and I'm required to do nothing more than attend a meeting here and there, report my own activities, and do nothing to oppose the movements of the Dark Lord's leading operatives.

But regardless of what you may think, I'm not thick, and I gradually begin to realise that they aren't as interested in my movements as in the movements of my friends, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and soon, Lily Evans, too. All of them are intelligent, talented, and well-placed young wizards, and most importantly, they're all friends with Albus Dumbledore.

Around the time James and Lily are married, I begin avoiding spending time with my old friends. The less I know, the less I'm able to report.

I know the Death Eaters are becoming frustrated with me. I'm not very good at evading questions, and I'm awkward about changing the subject. It isn't too surprising, really, when Maddy begins regularly spending the night at my flat. We've been sleeping together off and on for a while, but now she's with me as many as three nights a week.

She asks questions. Subtly at first, distracting me with touches and kisses and other things that she's really very good at, as she asks me what I've been up to, and how my friends are, and have I heard anything from good old Hogwarts lately? But the more I evade, the more pointed her questions become, and the less she's inclined to distract me while asking.

Then, not long before James and Lily's son is born, they narrowly escape a Death Eater attack, instigated, I suspect, based on information I provided, though I hadn't thought it significant at the time. My guilt begins to overwhelm me. My friends are capable of holding their own against anything that might be thrown their way, but now there's an innocent child in the mix. That's when I resolve to get myself out of the mess I'm in.

"What is it he wants from me, Maddy? Why does he send you here?" I finally ask one night.

At first, she tries to soothe me, pretending she doesn't know what I mean, that she's there because she wants to be. She acts hurt that I'd question her motives.

But I press her until finally she bursts out, "It's not you he wants; it's that precious friend of yours. That James Potter and his wife."

"What? James and Lily? But they'd never go over to the Dark Lord."

"Look," she spits at me, "he doesn't tell me everything. 'Ask about the Potters,' he says. 'Find out everything you can.' Don't ask me what he's looking for."

"Maddy," I say quietly, putting a hand on her arm. She flinches, and I sigh and withdraw the offending hand. "Maddy, I think you'd better go. I may be mixed up in all this, but James and Lily are my friends, and I won't tell you another word about them." See? I do stand by my friends.

She leaps from the bed and turns on me, beautiful, naked, with poison-green eyes flashing fire.

"You think you can just do that?!" she cries. "You think you can just decide which information you pass on to the Dark Lord and which you don't? Well, Peter-my-love --" and here her mouth curves into a nasty smile, "-- you are in for one hell of a shock."

"Just go, Maddy," I say, not meeting her eyes. I don't want her to see how scared I really am.

"He'll get what he wants from you," she says, her voice sinking to a hiss. "You're only alive as long as you're of some use to him. You give him what he wants, and you'll live -- maybe even prosper." She looks down her long nose at me at me, as though she doubts it. "But you defy him in even the smallest way, and you'll end up dead along with those precious friends of yours, and I guarantee it won't be an easy death."

She grabs her wand from the bedside table. "Accio vestimenti!" she cries, holding her graceful arms aloft like a dancer. Her robes fly from the floor to settle over her pale skin.

That's probably the last time I'll ever see that. I feel a twinge of regret as she flounces from the room.

In the months that follow Maddy's departure from my life, the pressure on me gradually increases, and the tone of the questions being asked becomes more and more threatening. Where are the Potters? What are they up to? When did I last see them? Do they suspect me at all? What have I heard of Dumbledore and the Order's latest activities?

I'm too scared to refuse to answer, and my vague and evasive replies satisfy no one. I cut off almost all contact with James and Lily and my other friends, but there's so much pressure for me to spend time with them. Besides which, I'm worried that my flimsy excuses aren't convincing my friends anymore either.

I consider going into hiding. I could turn rat and disappear until this whole war is over. No one would be able to find me. That's the last card I have to play against the Death Eaters. They don't know about my Animagus ability.

But that's no way to live. I can't live the rest of my life as a rat. Better than death, I suppose, but not by much. I'll only resort to that if I can't find any other way to get myself free of this tangle. There has to be another way out.

As soon as I open the door to Mother's house, I know something's wrong. The air is almost vibrating with power. Mother, looking pale, frightened, and very, very small, is standing in the hallway, clutching the edge of a decorative table.

"Peter," she whispers, eyes huge, "there's someone here to see you."

Her eyes travel almost unwillingly to the parlour doorway. I go to her and put an arm around her shoulders to steady her, looking beyond her into the room.

Standing among the shelves of knickknacks and delicate tea services is a tall, middle-aged man in black robes. He is examining a shelf of collectible figurines of Famous Wizards of the Nineteenth Century, but when I enter, he straightens, fixing me with cold, red eyes. The commanding gaze washes over me like a bucket of ice water, and seems to pierce my soul. Those eyes make Maddy's look positively warm and inviting. I suppress a shiver.

"Peter Pettigrew," the man says softly, and the shiver I was trying to suppress escapes and runs down my spine. "I thought it time we met in person."

Dragon shit! It's him! I feel faint. Being bullied by Death Eaters is one thing, but to have the Dark Lord arrive unexpectedly in one's sitting room is something else entirely.

"Leave us, woman," he says, not sparing so much as a glance for Mother.

I hear her footsteps scurry down the hallway, and I'm alone with the most feared wizard in the world.

"Peter," the voice is accompanied this time by a chilly smile. "Let us speak frankly."

I nod wordlessly.

"I can crush you like the insect that you are," the man tells me. "And I will, if I think you might possibly be -- how shall I say? -- not working for me as enthusiastically as you might."

I'm not an insect, I'm a rat, I think, but quickly suppress the thought, in case he tries to read my mind.

"You are a worthless little man, Peter," the Dark Lord says. "Worthless, but for one very important factor: you and you alone among my followers can give me the Potters. And that is what you will do."

I open my mouth, but no sound emerges. I clear my throat. "How can I? My Lord?" I add hastily, my voice unusually high. "Surely you already know where they are? You don't need my help."

"Ah, but Peter, least of my servants," he says sadly, shaking his head, "the Potters have so many inconvenient protective wards on their home. My followers and I cannot get near it without tripping all manner of alarm spells. By the time we were near enough to discuss matters with your friends, they would already have left, or invited unwelcome outsides to our meeting." He smiles nastily. "That is what I need you for, Peter. You are going to arrange a private meeting between myself and the Potter family. No unexpected guests."

"But my Lord," I plead, falling to my knees, "the Potters are my friends. How can you ask this of me?" See? I'm still trying! And with the Dark Lord himself!

"I could be your friend, Peter," the Dark Lord says, and I feel chilly fingers sliding through my hair. "I could be a great friend to you, if you only do this small thing for me." He sighs and turns away. "But if you defy me, well, I will not say that it will be the last thing you ever do. The last thing you shall ever do, should you defy me, is spend hours -- perhaps even days -- in friendless, screaming agony. After I kill everyone you care for."

"My Lord!" I cry out in anguish, but when I look up, I'm alone in the room.

I have to talk to James. That's just all there is to it. In fact, I'm surprised that James hasn't already confronted me. I know that Remus and Sirius are so wrapped up in suspecting one another that they barely notice anyone else, but surely James must have figured it out by now. I'll just have to come clean and beg his forgiveness. He'll be angry, of course, and I know Sirius'll be livid, but they won't let me come to any harm. When they know how sorry I am, they'll protect me.

If anyone can get me out of this jam I'm in, it's James. I've had complete confidence in him since our schooldays. I know he's scared right now, but I still think he's equal to anything. He has a sort of sheen of immortality to him.

So when the invitation -- Please join us for supper on 26th October. I need your help with something important -- arrives by owl only a few days after I come to my decision, I'm inclined to regard it as a sign. I'll go to James and Lily's house, I'll confess, James will yell and wave his arms around, but ultimately forgive me, and then I'll do whatever I can to make up for everything I've done. It will be all right.

I arrive on their doorstep nervous and sweating, but more or less resolved in what I must do. James opens the door with a grin that warms my heart and makes my jumpy insides relax a little. That grin always bolstered my confidence in our schooldays.

"Good to see you, Wormtail, old man! It's been a while," he declares heartily.

I open my mouth. And that, as always, is where my confidence fails me. "Well, you know Mother's been ill," I say, not quite able to meet his eyes. Dammit, why can I not just tell him? Bloody get it over with. "I've just been so busy lately. I suppose it's all part of growing up and getting older, eh?" I manage a weak smile.

"I'm sorry to hear your mother is still feeling poorly, mate," James says, eyebrows drawn together. "Getting better, though, I hope? Do give her my regards."

I know James doesn't care a bit for my mother, but I do think it's very kind of him to ask after her health, and say so.

"She's, ah, no better," I lie, internally cursing myself once again. But I'm just waiting for the right moment, aren't I? And this isn't it.

As if in answer to my thought, James lowers his voice, flicking his eyes quickly toward the kitchen. "We'll talk after supper," he says with a wink. "And -- er -- don't say anything to Lily, please."

I raise my eyebrows at that. Good. It will be better if I can talk to him privately.

"Mum's the word," I murmur.

I wander through the house behind James, commenting on how much I like what they've done with the place. I haven't been to visit them here more than two or three times since they moved in shortly before the baby was born. It's a cozy little place, just the right size for a small family.

Sirius is in the sitting room, playing with the baby on the floor. He barely looks up when James and I put our heads in. Remus is in the dining room helping Lily set the table. He looks tired and drawn -- gray around the edges -- but greets me warmly enough.

I help them finish laying the table, enjoying the bustling, friendly feel of the kitchen, and the warm food smells wafting through the air, despite the palpable tension. I'm nervous about what I have to do, though, and try hard not to jump at every sound of crockery knocking against crockery, or clatter of silverware on the table.

Supper is marvelous, as always. Lily is a wonderful cook, and always goes the extra mile for guests, even when the guests are practically family. I can see, though, that the others barely notice their food. The lines of tension in the room might as well be drawn in fire. Remus and Sirius cast suspicious glances whenever one thinks the other isn't looking. Lily orbits James, and their eyes flicker from one guest to the next.

How hard it must be for them all to sit there and wonder and worry and suspect one another. At least I know I'm the one. How funny that I'm the only one who knows he can trust everyone here. Well, almost funny. I spend the meal staring resolutely at my plate, not meeting any of the questing, questioning gazes.

Conversation seems to stop and start, rather than flow as it did in the old days. But I don't become engaged in it until Sirius says, "C'mon, Prongs; you don't really believe you could take Voldemort, do you? I mean," he smirks, "I know you're convinced of your own immortality, but really --"

"Sure, I could take Voldemort in a duel," James says with a lazy smile. "It's just all those minions and people under the Imperius Curse that get in the way," he continues, eyes meeting mine. "If someone would just take him out, the whole Death Eater thing would collapse. Wait and see."

Does he suspect me after all? No surprise if he does, I suppose. Everyone is looking at James, and James is looking at me. I feel like he's waiting for me to say something, but I have nothing to say. Or nothing I can say right here in front of all of them. Later. I'll take him aside after supper, and tell him then.

Lily saves me from having to say anything just then, for which I'm profoundly grateful.

"Your overconfidence will be the death of us all, James."

She smiles a little sadly and puts a hand on her husband's arm. James looks abashed and lowers his eyes to the table. No one seems able to look at anyone else for a moment, and the silence is an awkward one.

James gets up and begins clearing the table, rattling the dishes more than strictly necessary to cover the silence. Then Remus turns to speak to Lily, and the moment passes. James glances at his wife, and, seeing that she's momentarily distracted, catches my eye and raises his eyebrows, inclining his head towards the kitchen. Then he glances at Sirius and repeats the gesture.

Lily looks up as she passes the baby to Remus, who says he's just going outside to take some air. She catches the look between her husband and Sirius, and must divine some meaning from it, for she stands up and smiles at me, inviting me to come have a cup of tea with her in the sitting room.

Don't say anything to Lily, eh? There's more to this than meets the eye. Obviously, Lily knows something about a private conversation with Sirius, but there's more to it that James doesn't want her to know -- or know yet -- that involves me. My curiosity is piqued.

James is flashing me impatient looks, which I recognise from our schooldays to mean, "Get her out of here". I smoothly step in and turn on the charm that nearly always distracted professors from noticing what James and Sirius were up to. Teachers almost never thought to suspect innocent little Peter Pettigrew of mischief, even knowing who my friends were, and we frequently turned this fact to our advantage.

"That was a lovely supper," I tell Lily sincerely, taking her hands in mine. "You must have been on your feet all day at it. Why don't you go take a rest? I'm sure I can keep myself company until Prongs and Padfoot feel like being social again."

I make as if to remove myself to the sitting room, as Lily smiles gratefully and disappears up the stairs. As soon as I hear the door close behind her, I return to the kitchen.

"What's up, lads?"

James smiles and flops into a chair, disarrayed hair falling into his eyes. "Dumbledore's come up with an idea to keep me and Lily and Harry hidden for a bit," he says. He and Sirius are wearing matching grins. "It's this thing called the Fidelius Charm, and it basically hides the whole house so that, even if Voldemort were standing in the garden, he wouldn't be able to see it."

I wince at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Ever since the man himself appeared in Mother's parlour, I've been unable to even think his name without a chill descending my spine.

"How does it work?" I ask to distract myself from thinking of that awful presence. If James has a way to hide himself, then there's no way I can be blamed for not being able to deliver him and Lily to -- him.

"Well, Wormtail, old friend," James continues, "that's where you come in. See, we need to bind the secret of our location to someone who doesn't live here -- someone we can trust. They'll be the only person who can find us, or who can tell other people where we are. Of course, all the other protective wards will have to come off the house, since they might interfere with the effectiveness of the charm."

My eyes widen. If James is saying what I think he's saying -- that he wants me to be the one -- then he can't suspect me! I'm overwhelmed at my friend's confidence in me, but quickly suppress the emotion. I begin devise the outline of a plan.

"See," Sirius is saying, gesturing wildly in his excitement, "with a spell like that, anyone who knows Prongs would assume I was the one holding the secret."

Very true. "But you won't be?" I sit forward in my chair, mind turning and turning through the implications of James's plan.

"No," Sirius says, too enthused to sit still. "That's the beauty of Prongs's plan. Everyone will think it's me, and I'll even tell them I am, if they ask. But it won't be me," he says with a grin. "It'll be you."

If I'm the one, then this might be the answer to all my problems. Vol -- the Dark Lord wants me to set up a situation where it's just him and James and Lily. This charm sounds like just the thing. The wards will be off the house, and they won't be able to summon anyone else. James thinks he can take the Dark Lord easily, and once he's out of the way, the whole Death Eater network will collapse.

"And no one will know it but myself and Padfoot," James adds.

"What?" I'm startled out of my reverie. "Not Dumbledore or anyone?"

"Not even Lily or Moony," James says, raising his eyebrows.

I nod, still deep in thought. If I set this up right, and the Dark Lord falls, I could be a hero. I could bring about an end to the war. How can I pass up an opportunity like that? But I can't confess now -- James will never let me do this if he knows I'm the one the Death Eaters are using. I'll just have to wait and tell him everything when it's all over. He'll believe me; I'm sure of it.

"Okay. What do I have to do?" I ask.

"Just meet me here tomorrow after lunch," James tells me. "Lily's usually napping with Harry about then."

I grin with relief. "This is going to be great!" I say, shaking James's hand. "Thanks so much for trusting me with this. I won't let you down."

James is going to be so impressed when I tell him how I planned it all. And the Ministry, too. Order of Merlin, First Class, I'll wager.

Our discussion of the Fidelius Charm is interrupted by the sound of a door opening somewhere in the house, and James lays a conspiratorial finger to his lips as a sleepy-looking Lily reenters the kitchen.

Sirius, Remus and I leave the house not long after. I really wish I could tell someone about my plan, but I know that, if I do, it'll never work. Even if James and Sirius would still allow me to be the Secret-Keeper, telling them would jinx it somehow, and something would go wrong. So instead of saying anything, I quickly arrange a "just in case" meeting with Sirius, bid them all farewell, and head off into the night.

My palms are sweating as I knock on James and Lily's door the next afternoon, and I fiddle nervously with my wand as I wait for James to open the door. He greets me quietly, but with a smile. Lily has, as expected, gone down for a nap about half an hour before, and we should have maybe an hour to work the charm and have me gone before she wakes.

The words of the charm are simple enough, but I just can't seem to make them come out right. It's nerves, is all. That was always my problem at school as well. My marks were never very good, not because I wasn't clever or didn't know the material, but because I lack confidence, and don't perform well under pressure. And the pressure for this plan to come off right is immense.

But James never seems to get frustrated with me. He's always been great that way. After the first few attempts fail, he tells me to sit down and relax, and goes into the house to get me a drink. Good old Prongs. Always so good to his friends, even during hard times.

James returns with a beer for each of us, and sits with me for a while, telling me how glad he is to have a friend like me, whom he can trust with the lives of his family, and with something as important as this charm.

I don't deserve any of it, and I know it. Someone like me doesn't deserve a friend like James. But I'll make it up to him. Really, I will. Together, we'll bring down the Dark Bastard, and the world will be a better place. Our names will go down in history. We'll be heroes.

But for now, there isn't really anything I can say, so I merely nod, staring off into the future, imagining what it will be like when every child in the Wizarding world knows our names.

"I think I'm ready now," I finally say, draining the last of my beer.

I stand, gripping my wand and eyeing the house as if it might do something unexpected.

"Right," says James. "Just remember the words: semper fidelius maneo."

This time, with the imagined glow of heroism still warming me, banishing all my former nerves, I manage to get the words right. The house shimmers briefly, and I feel something click inside me, like a lock turning, but nothing else appears to change.

James turns to me and shakes my hand, grinning. "That's it, mate. Let's just hope that does the trick," he says. "Thanks for doing this for us, Wormtail. If there's ever anything I can do for you --"

"No trouble, mate," I mumble. "Think nothing of it."

I'm suddenly assailed by feelings of doubt and guilt. What if this doesn't work? If it goes wrong, I'm fucked, and so are James, Lily, and the baby. I resolve not to think about that possibility, but can't quite bring myself to meet James's eyes as I mount my broom and fly out of Godric's Hollow, feeling less and less like a hero every second.

I've never felt so twitchy in my life, and I'm not, by nature, a relaxed individual. It takes me days to work up the courage to send word to the Dark Lord that I've been made Secret-Keeper for James and Lily. I watch nervously as the owl disappears into the distance, and spend the next hour pacing the parlour.

Suddenly, I feel a sensation like cold fingers reaching into my chest and wrapping inexorably around my heart. There's a tug, and I find myself standing in a huge, chilly, torch-lit room. The Dark Lord sits in a throne-like chair, looking down at me with imperious disdain.

"Tell me," he says, and the icy power of his voice forces me to my knees.

"M -- my Lord," I say, unable to raise my eyes from the dank stone cobbles of the floor. "The Potters have placed a Fidelius Charm on their home, and have made me their Secret-Keeper --"

"I see," the Dark Lord says thoughtfully.

I dare to raise my eyes then. I can see that the Dark Lord is thinking, turning over all the implications of the charm.

At last, a cold smile uncurls on his lips. "You have done unexpectedly well, Peter, least of my servants," he says. "Your service will be rewarded. But only when the last of wizardkind bearing the name of 'Potter' takes his final breath." Cold eyes gaze into mine. "Of this you may be certain, Peter. I always keep my word."

A chill goes through me. He means to kill them all. Even the baby. And I'm suddenly not so sure that James can beat him. After all, James hasn't met the man.

"But if your information proves false, Peter," the Dark Lord continues, "know that there is nowhere you can hide that I or my faithful servants will not find you."

I open my mouth to reply, but as suddenly as I arrived in the cavernous room, I'm in my flat again, shaking and sweating in bone-deep fear.

The next evening, when the knock comes on my door, I'm expecting children demanding sweets. But instead, I open it to find Maddy standing on the doorstep, looking nonplussed.

"I've been sent to fetch you," she says shortly.

I feel slightly ill. "Fetch me where?" I ask.

"He wants to see you," she says. "You're to deliver the Potters to him tonight."

"Tonight?" I can feel the blood draining from my face.

She smiles nastily. "Why wait? Anyway, I've brought a Portkey." She gestures at the nondescript Muggle handbag she's carrying. "Let's go."

She holds out the bag to me, and I hesitantly lay a hand on it. She taps it with her wand to activate it. "Aperti portum."

Almost immediately, we're standing in the torch-lit room again. I let go of the bag and look around. We're alone.

"Where is he?" I ask nervously.

"How should I know?" Maddy sounds annoyed. "He's an important man. He's got more things to deal with than your little friends. We wait."

At first, I try making small talk with Maddy, asking her how she's been, but she ignores me utterly, and after a few attempts, I give up. We wait in silence for nearly an hour before a soft pop announces the arrival of another person in the room.

"My Lord," Maddy says at once, falling gracefully to her knees. I quickly follow suit.

"Madeleine, sweet child," says the tall, cold man, placing a hand on her cheek. "There is no need for you to be so submissive in my presence. I know it is not your nature."

Maddy rises. "I've brought you Peter, as you commanded, my Lord."

"Your continued faithful service shall ever be rewarded, my child." He turns to me. "Are you prepared to do what I require of you, Peter?"

My eyes are fixed on the floor. "I am, my Lord," I reply quietly. What else can I do at this point? Merlin, I hope this works.

"Tell me then, Peter. Where will I find the Potters?"

I know there's no going back. I must tell what I know, or I won't survive the night. One does not lie to the Dark Lord and live. He and Maddy are both watching me, waiting.

"The Potters --" My voice cracks, and I stop to clear my throat. "The Potters may be found at Number Sixteen Pumpkin Lane in Godric's Hollow."

I have broken James's trust, and I know it. May he forgive me, one day.

"I believe you speak truly, Peter," the Dark Lord says. "We shall go at once. Give me your wand."

"What?" I ask, startled. To demand another wizard's wand is taboo.

"Peter, my servant," says the Dark Lord impatiently. "Trust must be earned. And while I trust that you have furnished me with good information concerning the Potters' location, I do not yet trust you not to change your mind at the last moment and try to save them. Give me your wand."

Reluctantly, I hand over almost the last shred of protection I possess to the most feared wizard in the world. My only refuge now is my Animagus form.

"Now, Peter, Madeleine, let us adjourn to Godric's Hollow," the Dark Lord says with a smile of satisfaction.

I feel as if the bottom has dropped out of my stomach. "You want me -- us -- to go with you?" I ask, shocked, hastily adding, "My Lord?"

"But of course, Peter," says the Dark Lord, as though he were explaining to an especially slowwitted child. "There must be witnesses to this night, to say what becomes of those who defy me." He pauses, still gazing down at me. "And if it turns out that you have played me false, Peter, why, sweet Madeleine will be there to avenge me swiftly."

I look down to find a gleaming silver chain has appeared out of nowhere, binding my wrist to Maddy's.

We Apparate outside James and Lily's garden gate. The night is dark and deathly still, but I can see a light on in the the kitchen. There's James, making tea and looking worried. I hope he has his wand handy. I hope he's as ready for this as he said he was. This is our ticket to freedom and into the history books.

"Stay here, both of you," hisses Voldemort.

He pushes open the garden gate without so much as a creak, but as he starts down the path, I see James freeze and snap his head around to stare out the window into the darkness. Maddy sees it, too, and jerks me down behind the fence.

I break into a cold sweat as we watch the house. I see James's frightened face and one hand against the window for an instant, then hear a cold voice whisper in the night, "Avada Kedavra."

The door is blown off its hinges in a flash of green light. I grip the fence in anguish.

"James!"

"Shut up!" hisses Maddy.

I look at her without seeing -- wonder if I could choke her with the silver chain -- look back at the house. A minute crawls by, feeling like a year. I can hear nothing that is happening inside. Then suddenly there's a woman screaming and a second flash of green.

"Lily!" My voice is barely a whisper this time. Maddy ignores me.

The third flash -- accompanied by a thunderous explosion -- nearly blinds us. When my vision clears, the house is lying in ruins. The whole world seems stunned into silence.

And then comes the piercing wail of a terrified infant. But how -- ?

"My Lord?" Maddy whispers nervously. I take advantage of her momentary inattention, and quickly shift to rat form, slipping out of the chain and disappearing into the shadows of the garden. I hide, careful not to rustle so much as a leaf.

I hear Maddy call to me. "Peter? Peter, where are you?" Then, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" as she realises I'm gone and she's not going to be able to wreak any vengeance upon me.

Only when I hear her Disapparate do I begin to scurry toward the house.

Fuck! What have I done? What am I going to do?!

I have to think fast. It won't be long before the Ministry arrives, and soon this place will be crawling with them, piecing together what's happened. And Maddy won't be slow to spread the word of my part in tonight's events. I'm not going to come out looking very good to either side.

It's clear that something has happened to the Dark Lord, since he wasn't able to kill the baby -- the last of the Potters. But what? I've got to find my wand.

I scurry in rat form through the wreckage of the house, passing objects and broken furniture that I recognise from my visit. Movement catches my eye. It's a photograph. James and Lily's wedding. The five of us, smiling together.

Hopelessness chokes me. I've lost all my friends. James and Lily are dead. Remus and Sirius will never forgive me for what I've done. I'm all alone.

I find my wand at last, and near it, another that I don't recognise. The Dark Lord's. It must be. I shift back to human form and grab both wands. They might come in handy.

For the first time, I survey the destruction around me, still unwilling to completely accept the fact of it. The continued wailing draws me to wreckage of the nursery. I lift away a section of roof that's fallen across the top of the cot. The baby lies red-faced and waving his tiny fists in the air. There's blood on his forehead. I try to wipe it away.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I say tearfully. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

But the baby continues to cry, uncomprehending.

"I said I'm bloody sorry!" I shout. "What more do you want?!"

I'm immediately ashamed of my outburst.

I turn away from the cot, and for the first time, I see the bodies of the friends I've betrayed lying near each other, still and broken in the moonlight. My throat feels tight, but the scene is too horrible for tears. I did this. There's nothing I can do to fix it. Nowhere I can go for help. What am I going to do?

Then, over the sound of the baby's cries, I hear something else: the distant and familiar roar of an engine.

Oh, shit! Sirius is here already? Without a thought of where I'm going, I turn tail and run.

I'm tired and out of breath before I realise that I'm being stupid. Quickly, I Apparate into Mother's darkened parlour. I'm still for a moment, listening, but there's no sound in the house. Quietly, I go out into the back garden and bury the Dark Lord's wand up against the house, where I'll be sure to find it if I ever need to.

Once that's done, I pause for breath. I need to make a plan. If I don't, I'm as good as dead. It's Azkaban for me, or worse, the Death Eaters.

For days now, I've been thinking of myself as the hero of the story. The loss of my friends is a shocking blow. It galls me to think of going down in history as a traitor. It would kill Mother.

I'll have to hide, for now. Sooner or later, someone will come looking for me, and I want to have a plan by then.

I decide to go to Muggle London; the most crowded and confusing place I can think of. As a rat, I hide in a narrow alley between two huge rubbish bins, my wand lying next to me. And as I crouch there, thinking, a plan begins to form.

I realise very quickly that it's not the Death Eaters who are the greatest danger to me, nor is it the Ministry. It's Sirius. Sirius is the only one who knows I'm -- I was -- James and Lily's Secret-Keeper. Everyone else is going to assume that Sirius is a traitor.

The Death Eaters will go underground with the disappearance of their leader. Why would they stick their necks out to save an innocent man, and one they have cause to hate, at that? It would be so easy let the world assume that Sirius is the one. I have some qualms about letting him take the blame for my actions, but after the events of the night, I can hardly count him as a friend any longer. Better him than me. It's self defence, isn't it?

I'll have to go into hiding. There's no help for it now. Even if Sirius ends up in Azkaban for my actions, there's no way I'll be safe. The servants of the Dark Lord will want me dead.

The idea hits me like a bludger, bringing me up short. If I can make them think I'm dead already, I'll be safe. Better to live as a rat than not to live at all. And perhaps I can still "die" a hero.

I stage the whole thing very carefully. I even use the close bond of the Marauder friendship to open my mind to Sirius -- to make myself easier to find, and to make certain it's him who finds me first.

I go to a Muggle store and buy a wickedly sharp knife, then, returning to the alley where I've been hiding, I use the blade to cut off my own index finger. I nearly pass out from the pain and the sight of so much of my own blood, but better to lose a finger than die. Clumsily, I use my want to stop the bleeding, and put the finger into the pocket of my robes. Then I take position atop a sewer grate in the middle of a Muggle marketplace, and wait.

It's nine o'clock in the morning, nearly twelve hours since James and Lily died, by the time Sirius catches up with me. He looks pale and deranged, and seems to have lost his bike somewhere along the way. The fury of hell is in his eyes when they finally find me.

"Peter Pettigrew!" His voice rings grim satisfaction across the marketplace. "Did you think you could outrun me?" His wand is out and trained on me.

But I'm ready for him. "James and Lily, Sirius!" I cry. "How could you?"

He hesitates, looking startled, and I take advantage of his confusion to implement the final stage of my plan. Pointing my wand into a crowd of Muggles behind my back, I whisper the unforgivable words: "Avada Kedavra," and in the blinding flash of green light that follows, I transform, flinging away the finger and dropping down into the sewer grate at my feet, pulling my wand along with me.

I hide, watching the scene until late in the evening. I see them arrest Sirius. I watch as they question and Obliviate a number of Muggles. I see a stunned and bewildered Remus being led to a waiting Ministry van. And finally, I watch as the Ministry cleanup crew returns the street to normal, so that the market can open as usual the next day. None of the Muggles will remember anything that has happened here.

"Well, I guess that's it," says a redheaded Ministry wizard, wiping his brow and looking very weary. "Merlin, but it will be good to get home after a day like this!"

The rest of the cleanup crew nod wearily.

"I'm just glad I have tomorrow off," the redheaded man continues. "I promised little Percy a pet for his birthday, over two months ago. He's been asking every day since then. I should stop by Diagon Alley and pick him up something."

Unnoticed, I slip into the remaining Ministry van, and wait.

Secret Keepers © 2004 Skjaere