Peter could tell that Sirius didn't want him there.
It wasn't anything obvious. Sirius didn't glare or yell or accuse. But there was something strained in his tone when he spoke to Peter, and his words were just slightly too formal and slightly too polite.
James didn't seem to notice, but that had always been the case. When it came to Sirius, James never noticed - or, if he did notice, he quickly overlooked whatever problematic thing he had seen. And it didn't bother Peter, not really, because James and Sirius might be best mates, but they were also his friends. He had no reason to be jealous.
And yet…
He sighed and tried to push away the sharp stab of pain in his chest.
"…and Malfoy will go after Moony if he thinks it will help him get to me. My darling brother is positive about that," Sirius finished.
Sirius had been updating James on the latest development and James was seething, his expression dark and stormy. And Peter, too, felt rage that anyone would target Remus, particularly if he was merely a means to an end. But Peter also noted bitterly that he hadn't been informed of any of the previous events, and if he hadn't already been at James' house, chances were that Sirius wouldn't think to tell him about this either.
Just like James' article. He was being kept out of the loop. Was he being pushed out of the Marauders?
It wasn't time to be jealous. It wasn't time to let his insecurities rule his thoughts. Remus could be in serious trouble and they had to focus on that.
But Peter just couldn't let it go.
"We can't tell Moony," James said quietly.
Sirius frowned. "We might not have a choice," he countered pointedly, sounding uneasy. "We can't leave him unprepared."
But James shook his head resolutely. "I was over there yesterday," he explained. "He was arguing with Evans about the Wolfsbane potion."
Sirius' confused expression hardened into a grimace, and he asked, "Is Evans threatening to quit again? I thought you'd knocked some sense into her."
James gave Sirius an annoyed look and said in defense of the redhead, "She wasn't the one who wanted to quit."
The implication of that statement surprised Sirius, but Peter wasn't really sure why. Remus had always been willing to play the martyr, to put everyone else's needs above his own. If he knew how much this potion was costing Lily, of course he would consider trying to convince her to drop it.
"Why?" Sirius demanded.
James shrugged. "You weren't there, at the bar, Padfoot," he said quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets with a sigh. "You didn't hear what she said, didn't hear how much she stands to lose…" He trailed off.
Sirius scowled, then said, "Remus wasn't there, either. How does he even know about it?"
There wasn't an accusation in his tone, but Peter bristled all the same. He had never intended for his words to make Remus give up on a potion that could change his life. But Remus was still speaking to him, and Sirius wasn't, and Peter had just wanted to keep his friend updated on everything that had happened.
He hadn't thought this one through all the way.
Unfortunately for Peter, Sirius saw the way he sudden stiffened and rounded on his friend in anger. "You told him?"
"Padfoot…" James said warningly.
"What were you thinking?" Sirius growled, ignoring James.
Peter took a step backwards, shrinking into himself. "I didn't… I wasn't. Remus just wanted to know how things were going, so…"
"So you told him that Evans' life is being ruined because of him?" Sirius hissed. "Are you really that daft?"
"No! I didn't mean for that to… Evans was drunk," Peter defended himself. "It was funny. I thought…" He stopped, his mouth dry. He didn't know how to explain this in a way that would make Sirius actually listen.
"Sirius, that's enough," James said authoritatively.
Sirius glowered at James, but lapsed into silence.
Peter took the opportunity to say, "Moony said he doesn't see either of you much. He felt left out. I just wanted to make him feel included. And, well… I didn't have anything else to tell him."
He didn't finish the thought, and one quick look at Sirius made it clear that the other wizard didn't understand what Peter was trying to say.
But James did. He looked slightly abashed as he met Peter's gaze.
Peter didn't have anything else to tell Remus because he hadn't seen Sirius or James much, either. Remus wasn't the only one who felt as though the Marauders were drifting apart. It was hard, now that they were no longer in school, now that they didn't see each other every single day, didn't share a dormitory, didn't have classes and meals together. Their friendship had been based on personality and shared interests… but it had been based on proximity, too.
Sirius was still seething.
"Look," James said, running a hand through his hair and turning wearily back to Sirius, "the point is that Moony already wants to give up on the potion. If we tell him that Malfoy might go after him to get to you, how do you think he's going to respond?"
It was a rhetorical question, and Sirius didn't bother answering it. Remus would probably do something stupidly noble - like insist on leaving the country or breaking off their friendship.
"But this isn't even about him! He's just caught in the middle of it," Sirius protested.
"Evans' potion isn't about him, either," James said simply. "She's doing this for herself now. But he doesn't care about that." He hesitated a moment, then continued, "Besides, my Dad is looking into a way to get Evans a fair review. So maybe this won't ruin her life as much as she thinks it will."
There was a pause as Sirius and Peter both accepted this in silence, then Sirius said through clenched teeth, "Fine. So we won't tell Remus about this… yet. But we still need to figure out what to do about Malfoy and my brother."
Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a particularly obvious answer to that issue.
Some part of Peter had desperately hoped that Bellatrix Lestrange had been making idle threats. He knew it was a ridiculous hope, but he had still clung to the possibility that she would not actually go through with her plans. At Hogwarts they all made threats that far exceeded what they were actually capable of, but Bellatrix had been out of Hogwarts long before Peter had started, and he had a feeling that she had been different from the others.
She only made threats she could follow through on.
He caught sight of unruly dark curls disappearing along the cobblestones outside his father's shop. He pushed his way through the crowd after her, heart thumping in his chest. But just as the figure turned down one of the side streets and disappeared, he stopped himself. What was the point? He didn't know if it was Bellatrix, and even if turned out to be her - or perhaps especially if it turned out to be her - why would he want to follow her? What would he say?
He turned around slowly and started walking back through the crowd. It was bright and sunny, and he squinted as he approached the shop, trying to see through the glare.
He heard the cries before he saw the flames or smelled the smoke.
"Fire! Fire!"
Several of the witches and wizards around him drew their wands and chaos broke out everywhere. Peter stumbled as he was pushed back and forth and carried along with the crowd away from his father's shop. He struggled, pushing frantically to get free, before finally tumbling sideways. The oxygen was knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground, and it took him a moment to clamber back to his feet.
Then he looked up and saw it. Plumes of fire, bright red and orange and so incredibly hot, shot out of the back of his father's shop. They sent wayward sparks raining down on the stones around the shop.
Mr. Pettigrew burst out of his shop, wand in hand as he faced the fire. A few other witches and wizards - good Samaritans of one type or another - came forward as well, their own wands drawn to combat the flames. Jets of water burst into the air, and then a blanket of something white and heavy drifted slowly down over the fire, smothering it.
"Dad!" Peter called, darting forward.
Mr. Pettigrew turned and grabbed at his son. "Peter," he said, sounding relieved. "Oh, thank Merlin you're alright."
Peter stared aghast at his father. The older man's face was covered in soot and his hair was slightly singed. "Dad?" he said softly, almost tentatively. "Dad? Are you…?" He glanced past his father and towards the shop. "What happened?"
"Store room caught fire," Mr. Pettigrew said in bewilderment. "No idea how. I lost a lot of the merchandise but at least no one was hurt." He paused, considering the building, then said in a brisk and business-like tone, "And none of the toys on display were destroyed. It'll take a lot to get us back to where we were, but we probably won't have to close for more than a day or two…"
Peter turned and saw Marcus Avery watching him from the other side of the street. He gave Peter a wink, and then disappeared into the crowd.
He woke up to pain.
It was everywhere, in every fiber of his being. It grated against his nerves, pounded through his veins, throbbed in his head. It left him weak and nauseous, gasping for breath and fighting back the urge to slip into the comfort of unconsciousness. He struggled through the darkness closing in on him and forced himself to climb slowly to his hands and feet.
"Ah… the werewolf wakens."
Remus turned as the room was suddenly filled with light. The door to the small, windowless prison that had been his cage for the previous night's transformation had been flung open, and a Healer stood in the doorway, surveying him with obvious disdain. Remus gave what he hoped was a disarming smile - though he suspected it was more of a grimace.
The Healer curled her lip. "How are you feeling?"
Remus glanced down at his body. There was blood on his clothing and a large gash spread across his chest. He was still able to stand, but his right leg was throbbing and the back of his head felt as though someone had taken a hammer to it.
He looked around the room. The cement walls and floor were dotted with blood. Clearly, he had tried to escape during the night, and when that hadn't worked, he had turned on himself.
But he was awake and coherent and able to stand. That was something, he supposed glumly.
"I asked you a question," the Healer snapped.
"I'm bleeding and my chest, leg, and head hurt," Remus answered immediately.
"But you're alive and you didn't bite anyone. Perhaps you should focus on that instead of complaining."
"I wasn't complaining…" Remus started, and then stopped, because what was the point?
The Healer turned on her heel and strode out of the room without another word, clearly expecting Remus to follow her. He attempted to do so, but the movement sent waves of pain up and down his leg. He stumbled, barely catching himself against the wall.
Perhaps he had misjudged just how badly injured he was
"Come on," the Healer snapped, looking back at him, "you're wasting my time."
"Sorry," Remus gasped. "I just need a… a minute…"
The Healer rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said coolly.
Remus sagged against the wall and took a moment to study the witch. She was young, perhaps only a few years older than him. She had dirty blonde hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and a stern face that was all hard angles and edges. She didn't look friendly, but perhaps that was only because she was currently looking at him.
He took a deep breath. His chest was constricting, pressing in on him. Dots of blackness appeared in his vision and he blinked, trying to force them away.
After a few minutes, the Healer said in obvious irritation, "Are you ready now?"
Remus nodded slowly, wincing. "I'm ready," he murmured softly, and forced himself to follow her from the room.
"Margaret," a voice said, and both Remus and the Healer - Margaret, presumably - turned to face the newcomer. He was a taller, older man with graying hair and a grave expression. He paused, giving Remus and assessing look, then said, "Take the patient to room 304 for treatment."
Margaret looked surprised. "But sir…?" she started questioningly, and then stopped at the firm glare she received. "Yes, sir," she said quietly. Her expression soured as she glanced at Remus and said sharply, "This way." Once again, she did not wait for a response, but merely turned away and started walking briskly down the hallway. And once again, Remus was forced to limp after her.
"What's room 304?" he asked.
The Healer didn't answer. They entered a lift at the end of the hallway and Remus glanced at the number of the floor they were on. Sub-basement 3. He didn't even know St. Mungo's had three sub-basements.
He didn't even know what a sub-basement was.
They got off on the third floor and Remus was immediately engulfed in a hug. "Moony, you look horrible."
"Padfoot!"
"What? He does look horrible. See, I told you we needed to get him a proper room."
Remus pulled away from whoever was hugging him, and he found himself gazing at James and Sirius. The first emotion he felt was complete and utter relief that he wasn't alone anymore. The second emotion was annoyance. What were they doing here? Hadn't he told them that he didn't want their pity? And what did Sirius mean about getting him a proper room? Hadn't he told them that he didn't want their charity?
"Mr. Lupin?"
Remus glanced past his two friends. There was Healer standing beyond them. She was older, and reminded him of Madam Pomfrey, except that she was looking at him with fear. Not loathing or disgust, just apprehension. As though she expected him to turn into a monster before her very eyes.
As uncomfortable as it was, this Healer's fear was still preferable to Healer Margaret's disgust.
"If you would come this way?" she said, gesturing towards the room in front of him. The numbers 304 were engraved onto the front of the door, and as Remus walked into the room - trying not to flinch as the Healer very obvious shied away from him when he passed - he wondered just how much James had paid for this. It was a simple room, but a private one. There was a single bed in front of a window and several pain reliever and Dreamless Sleep potions on a table by the bed.
"Alright, Mr. Lupin, let's get some healing potions into you. I think a few hours of uninterrupted sleep will also help."
Remus stopped in the middle of the room and turned to glower at James. "I told you not to do this," he said angrily.
"I know," James agreed. "And I didn't listen to you." Remus opened his mouth to argue, but James continued, "I'm with Evans on this one, Moony. Get over yourself. We're your friends, we're supposed to help you." He exchanged a significant look with Sirius as he added, "No matter what."
Sirius nodded emphatically.
Remus wanted to argue, but he was too tired and in too much pain to do so. He sank onto the edge of the bed and allowed the Healer to perform a few complex diagnostic spells. She did it with jerky, uneven movements, and that fear was still constant in her eyes and in the tension in her body.
He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the fact that, without the Wolfsbane Potion, this could very well be all he had to look forward to for the rest of his life.
"…and now he's still being a bloody stubborn idiot about it."
Lily gave James an amused look. For once, she didn't really mind that he was distracting her from studying. His concerns about Remus were well-founded, and so she was worried as well.
On the other hand, James was being a bit of a hypocrite, as she was quick to point out to him.
"You can't be surprised that Remus has his pride," Lily said pointedly. "He doesn't want to take charity from you." She raised her eyebrows pointedly. "You of all people should understand issues of pride."
James frowned at her. "That's not the same thing," he protested weakly.
Lily laughed outright. "You are right," she agreed. "It isn't the same thing. Remus' pride is keeping him from accepting your charity. Your pride made you think it was acceptable to prank anyone and everyone with no regard for how they felt about it."
James' frown deepened. "You're on his side?" he demanded.
"Of course not," Lily answered. "I'm just saying… if you want to convince him to let you help, you at least have to recognize his point of view. No matter how much you don't like it. Anyway…" she looked down at the books piled in front of her and her own notes on the Wolfsbane potion, "we'll figure this out."
"We?" James asked.
Lily flushed slightly. "Well… yeah. I mean… we both want the same thing, right? So we're in this together. As… uh… friends."
"We're friends?" James asked in disbelief.
Lily looked at him sharply. "Aren't we?" she asked tentatively. They were finally getting along, and she didn't detest being around James anywhere near as much as she had just a couple months ago. They had spent a lot of time together without anyone yelling or screaming or storming away. Mostly. She actually… liked… spending time with him. Sort of.
That was friendship. Wasn't it?
"Yes," James said, giving her a boyish smile, "we're friends."
Peter watched in silence as his father took inventory of what was left, what hadn't been destroyed by the fire. The profit they would lose from this would be tremendous, Peter could tell that much by the way his father's expression became more and more dismayed with every passing minute. But profit didn't matter to him anymore. Bellatrix Lestrange had not been making idle threats, and next time she decided to come after him…
Peter shuddered. He didn't want to think about what would happen. He didn't want to think about what that madwoman could - and would - do.
Mr. Pettigrew sighed and made a note on a piece of parchment. Then he said offhandedly, "I still don't understand how the fire even started."
Peter looked around the destroyed store room. A simple spell would have done it, but he couldn't tell his father that without breaking his silence on the subject, and who knew what would happen then?
Then again, did it really matter? The other three Marauders knew, and Bellatrix knew that they knew… It was only a matter of time before everything got worse, and he wasn't sure he could stand it. He hated this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach just as much as he hated the feeling of helplessness that had washed over him from the first moment the Slytherins had approached him.
There was nothing else for it - he had to tell the truth. It was the only way to salvage the situation.
"It wasn't an accident, Dad," he squeaked, his voice coming out much higher than intended.
Mr. Pettigrew looked at him in surprise. "Don't be ridiculous, Peter," he chided lightly, setting the roll of parchment down on the nearest box and pocketing his quill. "Why would anyone set fire to my store room on purpose?"
"It was Bellatrix Lestrange, and Marcus Avery and Dante Mulciber," Peter said. "They threatened to burn down your store. They're going after James and Sirius, and they're using you… us… to do it."
His father gazed at him for a long moment, then said once again, "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm not," Peter retorted, frustrated. Why wouldn't anyone take him seriously? He wasn't making this up and he wasn't blowing the entire thing out of proportion. The pureblooded Slytherins were behind this, he knew it.
Again, Mr. Pettigrew remained silent as he considered what Peter had said. Finally, he let out a sigh and commented, "I doubt you could prove it, even if it is true." He looked at the charred remains of the latest batch of toys he had made, and added, "It's best just to move forward."
"But… Dad, they're going to come after you again," Peter protested, unable to believe that his father would so carelessly dismiss the threat. But his father didn't understand, didn't appreciate just how far Bellatrix and Malfoy and the others were willing to go. It was as though he couldn't see the danger so clearly right in front of him.
Mr. Pettigrew laughed. "Peter, I appreciate your concern, but what do you want me to do?"
Peter hesitated. He hadn't really thought through the implications of his argument. What did he want his father to do?
"Go on holiday?" he suggested at last.
"To France?" Mr. Pettigrew said with a smile, clearly thinking about their previous conversation.
But Peter hadn't had any luck convincing his father to leave that time around, and it didn't seem like he would now, either.
"I can't just abandon the shop. This is everything I've worked for, everything I care about." Mr. Pettigrew extended his arms, gesturing to the ruined boxes of toys. "Your mother loved this shop."
Peter felt something in him crumble just a little bit. How could this shop be everything his father cared about? His own life was in danger, and Peter's might be as well. Their safety was being threatened, their happiness could very well be destroyed…
And all his father cared about was a toy store?
"I can't leave," his father said again. "I won't. I'm not going to let anyone - least of all a group of children - run me out of my own shop."
Peter grimaced inwardly. His father was seriously underestimating Bellatrix Lestrange by referring to her as a child. She was in her mid-twenties, and so decades younger than Mr. Pettigrew, but she was still powerful. And crazy.
Mr. Pettigrew picked up his roll of parchment and continued doing inventory.
"You disappointed me, Pettigrew. I thought you had a better survival instinct."
Peter didn't look up as Avery took the seat next to him on the park bench. What was the point of staring into the face of a man who was trying to ruin his life? It wasn't as though he didn't know what Avery looked like. It wasn't as though he couldn't close his eyes and see Avery's features in vivid detail.
"Sending Black to me was just stupid," Avery continued.
Peter stiffened slightly. "I didn't send him," he said angrily.
Peter could hear the smirk in Avery's voice as the other wizard replied, "Is that so? Well, he certainly seemed determined to protect you when he confronted me. I suppose he thought you couldn't fight your own battles." There was a pause, and Peter looked up slowly. Then Avery added, "Well, it doesn't really matter whether you sent him or not. You weren't supposed to tell him anything."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "Is that why my father's shop nearly burned to the ground? Because Sirius confronted you?"
"We told you what would happen if you squealed," Avery answered calmly, a hint of mocking in his eyes. "But it seems even threats against your father aren't enough to make you hold your tongue."
Peter didn't reply. He had specifically told Sirius and James that if they confronted Avery it could have very bad repercussions for him and his father. But did they listen? Of course not, Peter thought bitterly. Sirius was too self-involved to care about what happened to one of his supposed best friends.
They hadn't even come to visit him since his father's shop had caught fire.
But maybe they didn't know. It was a charitable thought, and he wanted it to be true. It had been a full moon, and Remus had gone to St. Mungos, and no doubt James an Sirius had gone to make sure he was alright. They had been so caught up in worrying about Remus that they hadn't even noticed anything was wrong with Peter.
That thought made Peter's blood boil. His father's shop had nearly burned down, his father could have been seriously injured along with anyone else inside the store… and all because Sirius had confronted Avery. Why couldn't they have listened to him? Why couldn't they have accepted that their actions had consequences, and if they did something stupid, their friends might pay the price?
Sirius had made the same mistake by sending Snape into the Shrieking Shack during a full moon, nearly turning Remus into a murderer. Why hadn't he learned?
"Black seems quite determined to protect his friends and his brother," Avery said. A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes. "But if you can't get him to back off…"
"He won't rejoin his family," Peter said firmly.
"My original deal still stands, Pettigrew," Avery said. "Give me information to split Black and Potter, and we'll let your father alone."
Peter shook his head. "Sirius won't betray James, won't stop being his friend," he said flatly. And it was true. There was nothing anyone could ever say or do that would cause Sirius to turn on his best mate.
"That wasn't the answer I wanted," Avery said coldly.
Peter was, once again, acutely aware of how much bigger and stronger Avery was than him.
He inhaled slowly. His father wasn't going to leave the country, wouldn't abandon his shop, and wouldn't admit that he might be in danger. Peter supposed he could go back to James and Sirius for help, but would they actually have anything to offer? Or would they rush off to confront Avery and just end up making things worse?
The bitterness in his stomach grew, spreading into every part of his body. They wouldn't listen to him. They never listened to him. They never cared about him. He was just an add-on to their group, a little boy who tagged along after them and never quite fit in. And now Sirius was wrapped up in his own problems and James was spending so much time with Lily…
And Peter just didn't belong.
Avery rose to his feet. "I'll be seeing you, little Pettigrew," he sneered. "Unless you have anything useful to offer."
Peter stared down towards the ground. He ignored what Avery had said about Sirius trying to protect him, demanding that Avery back off. He forced himself to forget the recent efforts James had made to pull him back into the group. He pushed away thoughts of Remus, who was still treating him as a friend, without any sign of contempt.
What did any of it matter? His friends wouldn't help him, would only make things worse, and he had to protect his father.
Avery started walking away.
Peter looked up. "Wait."
Avery paused, looked back. "This had better be worth it," he growled.
Peter swallowed. "It is."