characters: Peter Petigrew
But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant
of what he ’s most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels
weep. Measure for Measure, Act II, scene ii
summary: Peter tries to save his skin oen lasttime. mind you, he onl ytries...
notes: I hope this does justice to the feel of the lines I was given.
anything in bodl is suposedt obe handwriting.
Dear Albus Dumbledore,
No. that was ridiculous.
No, he'd think it came from a student.
Dear mr Dumbledore,
"Is he that dear to you my friend?"
Peter tried to shut up his stupid consciousness. This was no time for arguing.
Yes that was it.
There is something I need to tell you. There have been about 8 whole weeks of discussions about the way to conceal the hiding place of
Well, of who? Of Mr and Mrs. Potter?
If he'd have that one read by Sirius in older days, he'd get a strange look and a big laugh. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter! Straight from a muggle kid's book about one happy family."
Well they were a happy family now.
"Not for long I'm afraid."
This had to stop. Someone, anyone (Voldemort?) had to make it stop! He dipped the quill in ink again.
As you know, everyone finally agreed to use the Fidelius charm and make Sirius Black the secret keeper. There is one thing that has changed after that, though. It was only a day or two before the charm would be performed when he changed his mind.
"No, Peter, when you sent him an urgent owl and spent nearly an hour in a corner of the Hog's Head to convince him to change to someone else, to you."
"I didn't. I merely fuelled things. I worked on some doubts and that's when he went home with a frown like the one Remus sometimes has, and then sent an owl after dinner to tell me to prepare for</b>
"You really started it all did you?"
"And why not!" he called out loud. "Why can't I find an idea for once? It's always been them. I never even got a chance to add something to it."
We talked together and then discussed the new plan with the Potters. When they were finally convinced we decided to go ahead at once. We didn't waste any time to send owls, we didn't even tell Remus.
"Why?" That was Remus's voice. And peter hadn't even heard him say it like that. He had never even seen the disappointed face, or the incredibly sad, somewhat hurt look in his eyes, the way he was picturing it now. And those eyes said enough. Remus was a master at concealing his own feelings. Even his face wouldn't betray anything unless something really got him off-balance.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Not because of hate. Not because he believed in the strange suspicions of Sirius that Remus somehow managed to pass on in formation to the death eaters. Of course he couldn't believe that. Because all that time, Sirius was focusing on the wrong man.
If he wasn't so convinced of the motives and reasons he'd invented, he would have hated himself for this. By now he couldn't even find enough time, couldn't care enough about what he did to even glare at his own reflection. That letter, it had to be done quick, before he changed his mind.
"Or before you meet someone who his happy enough to corrupt it again like used to."
And who didn't succeed in that? James for one, and Sirius and...
"How can you possibly..." Lily's voice. And then a look she'd given to James more than enough times at school. How would it feel if he, Peter, would get that look for a change? That utterly disgusted, pained and horrified look she'd always throw at James whenever she heard of something wild they'd planned together. She'd only once given it to Sirius.
"You don't know why I’m doing this. I want to help you, I only want to help. Sirius is right. Voldemort would never find me."
"But you'll look for him tonight Peter, won't you?"
He gulped. The letter. He had to write that letter!
prepare for a sleep-over and pack a few extra things and leave everything else I could miss.
In short Mr. Dumbledore, I can tell you that only one thing has changed since we all last met in your office. Sirius Black never became the secret keeper. Instead they have switched to
"Hello! Sir! Could you open the door please?"
He froze. And there was another nock on the door. "Sir? Sir, there's dinner downstairs!"
And then the girl was smart enough to check if the door was locked at all. The moment the door flew open and the woman nearly fell in, Peter did the best thing he could do with something that had been enough of a waste of time already. He crumbled the piece of parchment and threw it in a dustbin. Tonight though, tonight when he came back here, he'd try the little fireplace.
And only then did he hear his mother sighing in the back of his mind.
"You're broken my dear, and you can never be fixed."