It was a little over a week before Sirius managed to find Peter and talk to him alone, which was in no small part because Peter, like most everyone these days, stayed under the radar except on those rare occasions when he visited those people he wanted to spend time with. And that very short list of people did not include his former friends.
Much of the reason for that avoidance was guilt. And Peter had more than enough guilt without being reminded of his many failings by the sight of his old friends. These days, it was an effort to meet their eyes, an effort not to flinch when he saw them. An effort not to apologise for being small and weak.
But despite the guilt, he did nothing to make himself better. He knew what would happen if he betrayed the Death Eaters, after all. He had been with them too long and he was too valuable and it was too late. If he left... If he left they would hunt him down. They would do such awful things and he'd been given enough tastes of the kind of pain they could offer to never want their wands turned on him again. And of course, they would go after people he cared about. His mother, who was soft and sweet and didn't deserve to be hurt because of his failings, which she had always refused to see. And his friends. Or rather, friend. Singular. Because Vin... Vin was the only one who had been there as everything in his life fell apart. And the Death Eaters wanted her anyway, some of them with a fervor that struck terror deep in his soul. He couldn't risk adding to the fervor with which they would hunt and hurt her by failing in the tasks they set him.
Besides, if he left now, if he admitted what he had done, there would be no one in the world who could protect him. Dumbledore would surely cast him out, no matter what he'd said at the meeting all those months ago. The Order would demand it. And besides, their power was failing. They were losing. And the longer they tried to hold out, the steeper the cost was going to be. He had seen the toll it had been taking on all of them, had seen the rundown, war-weary exhaustion on Lavinia's face growing these past months. And they weren't going to win. Their resistance was only going to cost them.
But knowing that didn't prevent the guilt from seeping in. So he'd avoided his old friends, avoided the reminder of who, exactly he was betraying. All except Lavinia, who he knew wouldn't judge him, at least for his fears, who still smiled at him and made an effort for him. Who was perhaps the only person in the world who had ever seen him for who he was and loved him anyway. Including his mother, who had a habit of thinking her son whas more like the person she wanted him to be than who he really was. And that was even before Lavinia was left as the only on of his friends who still tried to help him when all the others were too busy to so much as spare him a glance. Which was the other reason he had been avoiding them.
For months and months and months, they had been too busy for him. For months he had seen them only at Order meetings and they had barely even greeted him. For months they had seemed to forget that they had been friends for ten years. Ten wonderful years. Gone like it meant nothing. And he had been lonely. So very very lonely. And in that loneliness, something bitter and vile had grown, something that made his stomach crawl and his chest ache when he looked at them and felt that sense of abandonment consume him. Something that sometimes felt like rage.
So he avoided them on principle and despite Sirius's searching, it was a little while before he actually found him, and even then it was only because Peter had been coming to look for Lavinia, to ask for a distraction he sorely needed. It was getting harder, so much harder, to give the Death Eaters bits of information that would be enough to keep him safe but not so much that deaths would fall on his conscience, not so much that he would cost people the chance to even fight for their lives. But with the Order now rarely launching assaults, the Death Eaters demanded more. The Dark Lord demanded more.
The first time Peter had seen the Dark Lord face to face, he had decided instantly that he never wanted to lay eyes on the man again. Not that that was particularly feasible. That meeting had done two things, actually. It had sealed his fate when the Dark Mark was inked onto his skin. And it had been the moment when he knew he couldn't hold out forever, no matter how hard he tried. Because the Dark Lord... Peter had thought he knew what pain felt like, what the Cruciatus Curse had felt like. But until that day, he had never realized that more powerful the wizard who cast it, the more painful the experience was. And there was no wizard more powerful than Lord Voldemort.
In that first meeting, the Dark Lord had made just one demand of Peter. One single sentence that had sent ice through his very bones.
"Give me Harry Potter."
Peter had not done so. And he had been punished, though the Dark Lord claimed he had let him off easy because he had offered up others instead, just to make the pain cease. But Peter knew the demand would not be forgotten. Nor would his refusal to comply the first time it was made.
Today, nearly a month after that awful encounter, Peter was merely tired. Tired in his bones and tired in his soul, but still, just tired. He had been given the next two days to give over information regarding the homes of Order members. So they could be attacked where they lived, killed, even when the Order was trying to lie low. Given no chance to fight, no honorable stand on a battlefield. Murdered, in the dead of night while their families watched and then were slaughtered too. Peter had not yet decided what to do about it. Or if there was anything to be done in the first place.
So he'd come looking for Lavinia, who was calm and steady and who might well offer some insight, even if he couldn't tell her what his problem was. He had gotten very close more than once before. He had almost, almost, admitted to her what he had done. But the words had gotten stuck in his throat every time, blocked by a fear that seemed to be constant now, that seemed to flow through his veins right along with his blood. Blood that would be spilled if he didn't offer up Order members to die.
But Lavinia had not been home when Peter had come calling and instead, it was Sirius who brought him through the protective enchantments. Peter might have just left as soon as Sirius stepped out of the house, but his old friend had waved and looked... happy. Happy to see him. So he had waited and listened and tried not to hope too much. He had listened as Sirius said he had been looking for him, wanting to talk to him, listened as Sirius said he hoped to have a moment alone with him. Listened and hoped beyond hope that maybe Sirius was going to offer him a way out. Or perhaps even just spare a moment to check in, to be Peter's friend, something he hadn't done in months and months.
But then Sirius had laid out a plan, a wild, insane, horribly clever plan, and Peter's crushing disappointment had been downed in a wash of fear that was worse than anything he had ever experienced. Worse than the pains he had endured for not telling the Dark Lord where Harry Potter was. Worse than the pain for not giving the fanatic, Rowle, information on Lavinia's whereabouts. Worse than any of the hells he had braved to keep her safe. And there had been too many.
So, naturally, Peter had said no to Sirius's ridiculous and stupid plan. He had said no not once, not twice but three times and each time, Sirius tried harder and harder to convince him, tried harder and harder to make him say yes. And each time he had made the same argument.
"It's the best way to keep James and Lily safe. The best way to protect them."
And each time he heard those words, Peter flinched. Because Sirius did not, could not know, that it was the worst way to protect them. That Peter saying no was the last thing he could do to save his friends' son. The last thing he could offer, even if the Dark Lord somehow found out and punished him for it, it was better than trying to withhold the information if he was their secret-keeper, a task which he was sure he would fail at.
Eventually, Sirius threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine," he snapped. "Don't protect them. Don't fight for them. Maybe Vin was wrong about you after all."
And that had made Peter go still, made his awful, cowardly heart crack and break. Because of course, Sirius was wrong. But also right. Because Peter had been trying to protect them, was still trying to do so, in the only way left to him now that he had so stupidly landed himself in this situation. But Sirius was right that Lavinia was wrong about him. Peter didn't know exactly what she'd said, but for some reason, Vin had fought for him. Vin had probably argued for his trustworthiness. Because of course she had. Of course she had kept believing in him, kept caring for him. Kept fighting for him. It was why he had protected her even when it cost him, even when he gave others up in process.
So Peter turned away, realizing with a quiet sort of cracking sensation in his chest, that the only reason Sirius, and quite possibly the others too, still bothered with him, was because of Lavinia. The only reason they cared and the only reason they dared to trust him, was because of Lavinia. He wondered suddenly how long it had been since he'd really been their friend. Or if he'd ever been more than a sidekick. Someone they tolerated, rather than actually liked.
Behind him he heard Sirius swear lightly, whether in regret or frustration, he didn't care. And he didn't turn around. "Peter-" Sirius tried again, but broke off as the door opened.
And Lavinia walked in.
The sight of her broke what little was left of Peter's heart. She looked so tired. There were bags under her eyes and an endless exhaustion in her limbs. She hung the bag up on the coat rack with a sigh that was too heavy and too old and hurt to hear. But when she looked up and saw them watching her, she still smiled.
"I'm glad to see you two spending some time together," she said, walking forward and grinning at them.
Peter's chest caved as she came close enough for him to see that the smile didn't erase the tired in her eyes or slight slump to her shoulders.
"What's the occasion?" she asked, stepping close and wrapping Peter in a brief hug before moving to Sirius and giving her fiancee a quick kiss. "And why," she added into the slightly awkward silence that had followed her words, "Was I not invited?"
Sirius snorted. "You were at work, love," he reminded her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
Lavinia frowned up at him. "True," she admitted, "But that was unexpected. Bertie called in sick," she explained in response to Peter's confused look.
Though she said it casually, with a little shrug as thought to say "these things happen", Peter saw the tightness in her mouth afterwards, the tension in her shoulders and the shining worry in her eyes and, Merlin, it hurt.
"I'm sure he's alright," Sirius assured Lavinia, nudging her slightly. She flashed him a smile and a nod, but they faded as soon as she looked away and Peter could see that she wasn't at all convinced. Yet she didn't say a word.
"Anyway," Sirius continued, "This was also a bit of an unexpected thing."
"Ah," Lavinia murmured in understanding. "Well, good. Because I'd hate to have been left out. We don't get together nearly enough these days." She sighed then, her shoulders dropping a bit. "And I supposed we won't for a while yet, what with James and Lily's new dilemma. Any news about that?" she added, frowning worriedly at both of her friends.
Sirius pinned Peter with a long look. "Maybe," he hedged. Peter didn't reply. He was watching Lavinia, watching the way every casual word and movement and smile seemed to cost her. Watching the way she forced her back straight and her face light and neutral even when he could read the disappointment and worry in her eyes and body language.
"Maybe?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Sirius. And that was stifled hope in her voice, like she was desperate for any scrap of good news she could get but didn't really believe it could be real.
"Yeah," Sirius murmured, still watching Peter carefully. "But we'll discuss it later. You, my love," he added, with a cheeky little smile and peck to the cheek that made Peter winkle his nose and look pointedly at the wall. "Need a shower."
Lavinia gave an offended gasp and Peter turned back to see her looking at her fiance in mock horror. He just raised his eyebrows and pulled an emphatic expression. Lavinia laughed and kissed him once more before pulling away, shaking her head.
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" asked Lavinia suddenly, turning to Peter. Then, glancing at her watch. "Or maybe tea, I guess. It's a bit early."
But Peter forced a smile and shook his head. "I'm about to head off," he told her, noticing the way she gave him a swift, searching glance that reminded him rather forcefully of Dumbledore. Though he suspected Lavinia's motives were far less sinister than the Headmaster's.
But, regardless of what she found there, she nodded and took a deep, ever so slightly shaky breath. "Okay," she replied simply. "But stop by again soon. We still have to try that cookie recipe I found in the muggle paper. Peanut butter chocolate chip, you're favorite," she added with a wink.
Peter nodded, feeling his chest constrict. Normal. She was being so normal. And he knew she didn't feel it, knew her life was anything but normal these days. But for him, she always offered some moment of respite, a breath before they went tumbling back into the stress of the world. Every damn time. It was why he kept coming back, why he kept protecting her. Why he had almost told her the truth so many times.
For now, however, they just hugged and Lavinia walked off to her room. After several minutes, during which Peter and Sirius stood in awkward silence, the sound of running water came. And that was when Peter spoke, knowing that this was his chance. That it was awful and would condemn him to hell and worse for the rest of his life and probably beyond, but to end this faster... To keep the cost to a minimum. To protect her... He had to.
So he looked Sirius dead in the eye and said, "I'm in. But you keep her out of this."
Sirius nodded, an understanding seeming to pass between them before Sirius simply replied that he'd get in touch soon. And just like that, Peter Pettigrew damned himself. It would be worth it though, he knew. Worth one life. Worth the hatred he knew he would see in her eyes if she found out. Worth it if he could just bargain the information for her safety. Because the Order was going to lose anyway. But they didn't see that yet, and they would kill themselves trying to stop it.
And at least this way... at least this way he would have the leverage to make sure they left the people he cared about alone - left her alone - even after the Order fell, even after the war was lost. So he would bargain his soul and bargain their lives for the safety and security of the only two people left he still cared about: his mother. And Lavinia Selwyn: his best and last friend.
A/N: So I keep getting emails from my profs for the coming semester and... it feels really weird? Like, the semester starts in a week for me, but it really doesn't feel like that. I couldn't tell you what it does feel like bc it's not really summer vacation vibes but also nto really anything else and I just... ???? Especially bc classes are all online for me, so I'm going to go from sitting at my desk all day writing and watching shows and shit to sitting at my desk all day, doing homework and watching zoom lectures while trying not to fall asleep bc zoom lectures are so very very boring. It just hasn't registered yet that school is a thing this year bc everything else has been canceled, from sports seasons to social life so it feels so weird to have something that, like, I'll actually have to do? every day? I have a very bad feeling about how my motivation is going to work this year lol.
Anyway, as usual, I hope y'all enjoyed and I'll be back again tomorrow!