Chapter Seventy Four
It had been nearly two months since Peter had gone into hiding when his Dark Mark began to burn. He ignored it for as long as he could, telling himself that he had to protect Lily and James, but it hurt so much. The longer he ignored it, the stronger it got, and he began to question whether helping Lily and James would really do anything; if Voldemort could cause so much pain, even when he was miles and miles away, he must be more powerful than anyone in the history of the Wizarding world.
Then, he began to think.
He had been working for Voldemort in secret for so long, he was sure he could do it the other way round. He could pass information about the Death Eaters to Dumbledore, it wouldn't be hard and if Dumbledore asked him where he got it from... he could say that Voldemort had come to him, had tried to recruit him and he, thinking about the good of the Order, had said yes so that he could spy for them. Wormtail smiled to himself as he thought about how the Order would worship him when he delivered Voldemort to them on a plate. And, if Voldemort's end really was nearing, which Dumbledore seemed to think, and Voldemort was almost certainly worried about, considering his renewed search for Lily and James, then he could probably escape from the Death Eaters without any of them harming him.
He had told Voldemort, of course, that the Potters had told him they would make him their Secret-Keeper; he hadn't been able to resist once he was in the room with him. Order members had been told by the Aurors that Voldemort was an extremely powerful Legilimens and that it was impossible to keep secrets from him, but the knowledge didn't help Wormtail when he was there in front of him.
But then there was the scale of things.
It had been two months already, and Wormtail was starving. He hadn't had a decent meal in weeks, the only person he really saw was Sirius, and even that was rare, and he had no idea when this would end. And, to make matters worse, he knew that once he failed to turn up for a couple of meetings, and knowing what he knew about the Marauders, and that Wormtail was the Potters' Secret-Keeper, Voldemort and his followers would assume he had betrayed them. After that, of course, they would come looking for him and, if Wormtail knew anything, he knew that Voldemort would find you, no matter where you hid. So really, he would end up starving to death out here in this horrible house for absolutely nothing, because Voldemort would find him anyway, and once he had found him he would find the Potters.
Peter's already quite weak heart quailed at the thought of living here, amongst the spiders and the dust, for the next few years. It had taken years for them to begin to even look as if they were defeating Voldemort, and he didn't doubt that it would take longer still. Two months, in the grand scheme of things, was nothing, but two months in this house already seemed like an eternity.
Eventually he came up with a plan; he would attend the meeting, it was certainly still in session, but he would lurk in the corner as per usual. Voldemort wouldn't suspect him, and if he asked him where the Potters were, he would say that they had postponed the casting of the charm and that he didn't know where they were; he had only spoken to Dumbledore.
By the time Wormtail arrived at the Lestrange's manor, the grey autumn evening had blanketed the sky; the day had never been very bright, but now the clouds were darkening and night was louring.
When he arrived, Wormtail took up his customary place, trying to think only of how hungry he was. His thoughts were interrupted however, and he looked up, surprised, and met Voldemort's eyes.
"I'm sorry my Lord?" he asked, his voice barely audible. The Death Eaters, spurred on by Voldemort's chilling laugh, jeered once again.
"I said 'Come here, Wormtail'," Voldemort repeated, gesturing to a seat very near him. "Flint lost his life at the hands of one of Bartemius Crouch's Aurors last week; you may take his place."
"Thank you my Lord," Wormtail said, bowing to Voldemort and moving to take the chair.
"But first, Wormtail," Voldemort said, "tell me this. The Potters, the fools who made you their Secret-Keeper, where has Dumbledore hidden them?"
"I... I don't know, my Lord."
"Now now Wormtail, are you really going to throw my generosity back at me?" Voldemort said. "I may not be able to torture the Secret out of you, but I can still torture you. If I have to, I will kill you - to make an example, you understand. It doesn't do to have... the likes of you think that you can disobey me."
Wormtail shivered and felt his palms begin to sweat; his mouth opened, almost of its own accord, but it was too dry for him to get any words out.
"That's better Wormtail; come on, do tell me. I will not harm your... er, friends; it will be a clean death for their son, and then my task will be complete and you can join me in the new society which I will create. You'll be important Wormtail, and I will give you much more credit and power than Dumbledore ever would. You know he claims not to like power, when in fact he sits on the Wizengamot and instead just hoards it for himself."
"If I tell you," Wormtail muttered, "please kill them too, or they would kill me anyway."
"Good Wormtail," Voldemort purred, "that is the thinking that this society needs. Since you have made this request of me, I will fulfil it, if you fulfil your side of the bargain."
"Please my Lord," whispered Severus, leaning towards Voldemort from where he sat, "I beg you not to forget your promise to me too." Voldemort frowned momentarily before inclining his head. "Of course Severus, fear not. I will abide by your wishes if the circumstances allow."
"Thank you my Lord," he said, retreating back into the shadows.
"Now Wormtail," he restarted, piercing him with his crimson eyes, "the Potters."
"15 Mill Lane, Godric's Hollow, my Lord," Wormtail choked out. Voldemort smiled slowly, already beginning to savour his victory, and he shut his eyes for a moment as he committed this moment of pure ecstasy to memory. "Thank you Wormtail," he said, his words still hissing in the air as he vanished.
Lily had put the duck in the oven earlier that afternoon, and the wine was in the fridge waiting to be uncorked; James had told her he would lay the table, and that she wasn't allowed inside until he gave the order, but she had peeked in while he was putting Harry into his pyjamas. It looked beautiful, a black tablecloth covering the table, and every surface covered in candles which were waiting to be lit. Even the pumpkins in the window reminded her of that party four years ago, and she smiled to herself as she thought about how far they had come.
She opened the door to the sitting room and chuckled; James was standing in the middle of the room making smoke erupt from his wand, and Harry was dancing around trying to catch the puffs before they vanished. "Alright boys," she said, "time for bed now. Say goodnight to Dada, Harry." James grabbed Harry with one arm, scooping him off the floor and handing him to Lily, before kissing him quickly on the forehead.
Lily left and James yawned, ruffling his hair before he collapsed on the sofa, thinking about his dinner with Lily later. For some reason tonight felt different, and he reckoned it was because of that; he didn't feel as cooped up as he had before, even though he hadn't been able to dress Harry up and take him out, around the village. He couldn't wait for the other Halloweens, when he could plan co-ordinated family outfits - perhaps he could even get Cass- well perhaps he could get Sirius, Remus and Peter in on it too. Maybe next year they could go as characters from that Muggle film Lily had taken them to see; what was it called... Star something-or-other. He could be that guy, Pan or whatever he was called, Harry could be the little green guy, and Lily could be the princess with the plaits; Sirius could be the fluffy sidekick... No wait, Remus could be the fluffy sidekick, it'd be funny, and Sirius could be the main guy, although he'd never shut up about it, and Peter could be Darth Vader or that gold robot.
James was preoccupied with trying to plan out other group outfits when the front door burst open; he sprinted into the hall, blocking the way to the stairs with his body. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run!" he yelled, wishing he hadn't left his wand behind. It didn't matter now though, he knew it was too late for him; all he could do now was try to give Lily a chance to escape with Harry. "I'll hold him off-" he screamed but he couldn't, all he could do was fall to the floor as the curse hit him.
Lily carried Harry upstairs to his room, wondering whether the duck would be cooked by now. Harry was still laughing in her arms when she heard the door burst open and, half turning in confusion, she stopped by the door of his room. James' voice ricocheted off the walls as he screamed to her. From where she stood on the threshold of Harry's room, she saw the walls of the landing illuminated with the green light; utterly unaware that it was her making the ear piercing noise which now filled the house, she screamed, and Harry joined in.
She slammed the door of his room, unable to run anywhere, and began to pile things against it; the armchair, the boxes of his toys and clothes - she cast her gaze desperately around his room to see what else she could move; no time for the chest of drawers - it was too heavy and she was carrying Harry, maybe the cot? She stood, paralysed for a moment, completely stymied; there was so much to do and nowhere near enough time, yet really she had so few options. She felt tears trickling down her face as she thought about James, and she suddenly realised she'd been crying as well as screaming. He had trusted Wormtail, they had both trusted Wormtail - he must have been tortured into it; he would never betray them, not sweet little Peter. Lily gasped for breath, hyperventilating as her tortured lungs tried to fight the shock that loomed over her.
The door opened and her last efforts at protection disappeared as Voldemort waved them aside with his wand. She dropped Harry into the cot behind her and threw her arms out, trying to shield him from view. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she begged, pleading as much with Voldemort as with some higher power to spare him.
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..." He felt himself filled with a sense of purpose; he had almost swelled with the triumph, could already feel the unbounded power flowing through his veins. In that ecstatic mood, knowing that there would, in a few moments, be nothing that could stop his rise to eternal power, he was inclined, for once, to be merciful. Then, when he had finished here, he would tell Severus that he had spared Lily Potter; it could be a reward, of sorts, for his loyal service though why he wanted her was... questionable. Still, she was talented, even he admitted that, and she and her husband had put up a decent fight. Well, up until he found them. Once he was inside their house it was all too easy.
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-" Lily said desperately. She would do anything to keep Harry alive; even if James was gone, even if she was gone - she wasn't sure that she wanted to live without James anyway. Sirius would look after Harry, maybe it would help him now that he didn't have Cassie. She nearly broke into tears again when she realised that Sirius and James had been separated forever.
"This is my last warning-"
Maybe if Voldemort was considering having mercy on her, he would have mercy on Harry, Lily thought hysterically.
'Besides, what kind of mother would stand aside and let their child die?' she thought frantically.
"Not Harry!" she repeated, as if that was all she could remember how to say. "Please... have mercy... have mercy... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything-"
"Stand aside - stand aside, girl-" It was as if she didn't realise how fortunate she was - to have come so close to death at his hand and yet for him to offer, three times no less, to spare her. But if she was so adamant not to take his offer, if she really so despised life like it appeared she did, well...
Death was impatient: green light filled the room and Lily fell to the floor, crumpling as quickly as James had.
Merry Christmas everyone! The song is amazing and for some reason I feel like it fits a lot with this so... you should definitely listen to it :) I love Bon Iver