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why_me_why_notTitle: 24 Hours
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
why_me_why_not
Beta'd by:humantales and lilpadfoot16
Summary: Written in response to the 24-hour challenge. What happened during the 24 hours between the attack on the Potters and Harry being delivered to the Dursleys?
Disclaimer: Don't own the wizarding world or its inhabitants
October 31, 1981, evening
Lily Evans Potter was singing to her son Harry as she cleaned the kitchen of their small cottage. He was sitting in his highchair, laughing and clapping along. James was in the living room, working on some paperwork for the Order. Lily was missing her friends, and she knew James felt the same. They both hated the hiding but knew it was necessary to protect Harry. She wondered again if they had been wise to decline Dumbledore’s offer to be their Secret Keeper, but James had been adamant that the Secret Keeper be one of the Marauders. Dumbledore might have been the greatest wizard alive, and he might have defeated the dark wizard Grindewald, but he was still a manipulative old man and James was convinced he was keeping things from them.
Lily and James knew there was a spy in their inner circle, someone who had been leaking their whereabouts and their movements to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. James and Sirius were convinced it was Remus; their friendship hadn’t been the same since the incident with Severus Snape. He was still one of their closest friends, working tirelessly with the Order, dancing with Lily at hers and James’s wedding, doting over young Harry almost as much as Sirius had. As much as Lily’s heart protested, she eventually believed it because she wasn’t able to come up with an alternative. After all, whoever was untrustworthy was someone they held dear and close. It couldn’t be Sirius, their son’s godfather, her husband’s brother in all the ways that mattered. And Peter—well, to be honest if the thought had even crossed her mind she would have pushed it aside because Peter never really had the initiative to act on his own. He was always on the sidelines, and thinking back she realized that he would have heard more of their plans than anyone else since he tended to fade into the background and they would forget he was there at all. James was the Quidditch star, Sirius was the ladies’ man, Remus was the werewolf, and Peter—Peter was just Peter, a little kid tagging along with the big boys.
The last-minute decision to change their Secret Keeper was a mistake she would come to realize too late.
Lily should have known better than to assume they were safe. She had seen the destruction Voldemort was capable of, seen the horrors of entire families wiped out, but she still did not expect he would be able to reach them here. But he did.
When she heard James yelling at her to take Harry and get out of the house, her first thought was “What did they do to Peter?” Because Peter was their friend and he would never willingly betray them.
James yelled again for Lily to take Harry and run. She was too shocked to move for a moment, and only moved into action when she heard his body hit the floor. She didn’t have time to mourn her husband, only to think about protecting their child. She raced into the nursery and slammed the door behind her, knowing it was a futile effort but needing a moment to regroup, to save her son. The door burst open behind her and she turned to face Voldemort, the monster they had been actively fighting against since we left Hogwarts. Three times they had faced him and escaped; she knew this time there would be no escape. She guiltily wished that it had been the Longbottom boy he decided to go after, but quickly reminded herself Frank and Alice were her friends and didn’t deserve this either.
She pleaded with Voldemort, begging him to let her son live. He offered her the chance to save herself, to just give him the boy. Lily refused, and willed all her power, her magic, her love into protecting Harry as she heard the words of the Killing Curse, saw the green light fly from the wand of Voldemort…and sank into oblivion.
********** ********** ********** **********
Severus Snape and the other Death Eaters were milling around the graveyard where they had been summoned and ordered to stay. The Dark Lord had laughed in delight when they had first gathered, telling them that the Potters’ Secret Keeper had given him their location. The Dark Lord had to go alone after the Potters because no one else would have been able to find the house without being told by the Secret Keeper where it was, so Severus wasn’t surprised by the order to stay put until the Dark Lord returned. He was surprised, however, that the Dark Lord hadn’t produced Black for the amusement of the Death Eaters while they waited.
Severus knew about the prophecy, knew that the Potters had gone to ground in Godric’s Hollow and had passed over Dumbledore as their Secret Keeper in favor of Black. Stupid Gryffindors. Severus wondered sometimes if he had made the wrong decision when he started spying for the Order. It was hard enough to walk that fine line of being a spy, and since the side of the Light was filled with idiotic Gryffindors, complemented with a sprinkling of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs—well it sometimes put the outcome of the war in doubt.
Someone from Potter’s inner circle had been slipping secrets to the Death Eaters for months now. Severus had gone to Dumbledore with this information, was assured that Potter would be warned there was a spy in his ranks. But no, the fool still had to trust Black. And tonight the Potters would be killed and he didn’t even have time to warn Dumbledore or the Order about the attack.
The Dark Mark filled the sky above Godric’s Hollow and the Death Eaters’ circle filled with the excited chatter of triumph. Suddenly, there was a blinding pain in Severus’ left arm, and he gasped as he clasped the Dark Mark that was engraved there before feeling himself thrown off his feet and landing in a pool of darkness.
********** ********** ********** **********
Sirius Black was sitting on his back porch, wishing for the umpteenth time that this damned war with Voldemort were over. It was Halloween! He wanted to be able to take his godson out in the Muggle tradition of trick-or-treating, then come back and relax with his friends. Instead he was spending the evening alone. Remus was off on some Order assignment in France. He had tried to contact Peter several times that day but had not been able to reach him. He couldn’t go to Godric’s Hollow—well, he could, since Peter had told him the location of the Potters’ house, but he knew he was probably being watched. Not that it mattered; only Peter could give out the location of the house to anyone. The fact that Sirius knew it didn’t mean anything, though it would lead the Death Eaters to the right area, and Sirius would never take that risk.
Sirius had almost dozed off in his chair when noticed the Dark Mark appear in the sky—in the direction of Godric’s Hollow.
“No,” he whispered to the night. It wasn’t possible. Peter wouldn’t have betrayed them. Maybe the Death Eaters knew the Potters were in Godric’s Hollow and this was a threat? Maybe they had randomly picked Godric’s Hollow? Sirius’s mind was racing as he ran to the garage for his charmed motorcycle. He didn’t even bother with the invisibility booster as he flew towards Godric’s Hollow, his thoughts only on his friends.
When he touched down in Godric’s Hollow, his eyes widened in disbelief that the Dark Mark was actually directly over top of the Potters’ cottage! Jumping off the bike, barely remembering to turn it off, he ran into what was left of the house. “James! Lily! Harry!” He drew his wand as he crossed the threshold, training kicking in. Sliding along the wall, he noticed James lying face down on the floor of what had once been the living room. He flicked his wand with the spell the Aurors used to see if someone was still alive. Tears filled his eyes at the negative response but he shook them away as he headed towards the sound of Harry crying. At least Harry was okay enough to cry. Peering around the doorway to the nursery, afraid of what he’d find, he saw Lily on the floor in front of the crib. Also dead. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he approached Harry, noticing that he appeared fine, except for the tear-streaked cheeks and a bizarrely shaped cut on his forehead—like a lightening bolt.
Harry looked up at his godfather. Sirius was momentarily distracted by Lily’s eyes in the small boy’s face, staring at him with such trust. Misplaced trust. Sirius should never had talked James and Lily into using Peter as their Secret Keeper. He had known that everyone would suspect him, had thought that no one would suspect Peter. Of course, he had never thought Peter would betray his friends, either.
“Sir-us?” Harry’s sobs had subsided and he was holding his small, chubby arms up expectantly.
Sirius scooped Harry up and held him close, soaking up the fact that he was safe. After a moment, he reached back into the crib and grabbed Harry’s blanket—the blue one with snitches around the edges that Lily had bought when she first found out she was pregnant. Wrapping the blanket around the little boy, Sirius made his way back outside, keeping Harry tucked close to him and his wand at the ready, just in case. Outside the house, he noticed the familiar face of Rubeus Hagrid, looking confused as he gazed at where the cottage stood.
“Hagrid,” Sirius greeted warily as he crossed the wards provided by the Fidelius Charm.
“Sirius Black!” Hagrid returned warmly. “Dumbledore sent me to fetch young Harry.”
“That’s okay, Hagrid,” Sirius told him. “I’m his godfather; I’ll take him with me.”
“Well, Sirius, Dumbledore said I was to take Harry with me. We need to be going, since there are probably more Death Eaters around, and the Aurors will be here any minute. I’m sure they’ll be wanting to talk to you. About the Fidelius Charm?”
“What? But I’m not…I mean, Peter…Oh damn it!” Sirius remembered that no one, not even Dumbledore, was aware that they had changed Secret Keepers. He had to find Peter. The prat would be lucky if he didn’t kill him before he turned him over to the Aurors. “Here, Hagrid, take the motorbike.” Sirius cast a charm to enlarge the motorcycle for Hagrid.
Looking down at the boy in his arms, Sirius knew that he had to catch Peter quickly so he could get back to collect Harry. “I love you, Harry,” he whispered to the boy, kissing his forehead. “Be good for Hagrid and I’ll be back in a bit to get you.” He handed the bundled baby to Hagrid, helping the half-giant arrange Harry comfortably and safely inside his coat. “Take care of him, Hagrid. I’ll be back for him.”
After giving Hagrid a quick overview of how to work the motorcycle, Sirius stood back and watched the man fly off into the night with the little boy who was center of his universe. Then he quickly transformed into a large black dog, sniffed around until he picked up the recent scent of Peter Pettigrew in his Animagus form, and took off along the trail.
********** ********** ********** **********
November 1, 1981 mid-morning
Petunia Dursley was surprised, and not in a good way, when she opened her door to find an old man with a long white beard, wizarding robes, and a sad expression. “What do you want?” she asked coldly.
“Mrs. Petunia Dursley? I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” the man introduced himself. “May I come in and speak with you, please?”
Petunia hesitated, not wanting this man in her home but afraid of the gossip it would stir up if he were left standing on her porch. She stepped back and allowed him to enter, gesturing towards her living room. She did not offer him refreshments, did not want to give him any impression that he was welcome in any way.
After they were both seated, Dumbledore turned to Petunia, his eyes solemn. “I cannot express how much I dread what I am about to tell you, Mrs. Dursley. I am not sure what you know of your sister’s life, but she and her husband have been instrumental in the fight against a dark wizard, an evil man who calls himself Lord Voldemort. Lily and James recently were forced to go into hiding to protect Harry. Last night, however, our safeguards failed, and Voldemort found them. I’m very sorry, Mrs. Dursley, but Lily and James were both killed.”
Petunia stared at the elderly wizard, shaking her head in disbelief before bolting to the loo and losing her breakfast. She sat for several minutes on the cool tile floor, trying to process what she had just heard, before she stood up and rinsed her mouth out with water from the sink. After composing herself, she returned to find Dumbledore exactly where she had left him. Her voice was decidedly unfriendly when she spoke. “What does this have to do with me? I assume she and that Potter boy she married left enough money to cover their funeral expenses. I appreciate you letting me know, but you can leave now.”
“I’m afraid you there’s more to the story,” Dumbledore said. “Voldemort killed James and Lily, and tried to kill young Harry but in doing so the spell rebounded and destroyed Voldemort instead. Harry survived, and you and your husband, being his only relatives, will need to take him in.”
“Oh no! We will not!” Petunia yelled, before remembering her own sleeping child upstairs and lowering her voice if not her intensity. “I will not have a…a…a freak in my house contaminating my son! Obviously the brat is one of your kind if he lived through whatever...spell killed his parents, and I will not have it in my home! It’s evil, an abomination! Give him to that godfather of his—that crazy fool with the flying motorcycle that Lily was so fond of!”
“Alas, young Mr. Black will not be able to take Harry. He has been implicated as the one who betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort. He was their Secret Keeper. You are the only option.”
“We will not do it!” Petunia refused again.
“You do not have a choice. Let me explain this to you, Mrs. Dursley. Voldemort may be gone, but his followers are not. They know Lily was a Muggleborn, and they know that she has a sister. I daresay it’s a possibility that a few of them even know where you live. Now, when you take Harry in, I will ensure that protective wards are placed around your home to prevent any of Voldemort’s followers from harming you. If you do not take Harry into your home, I will not put up the wards. It’s that simple: you protect yourself by protecting Harry.”
Petunia fumed silently as she considered this. It was nothing short of blackmail! To protect her son, she would have to take in Lily’s brat too. “Fine,” she said finally. “Fine. I’ll take him in. But he will be raised without magic. I will not allow him to become a freak like the rest of you.”
Dumbledore stood and crossed back towards the front door. “I will arrange for the wards immediately and bring Harry to you as soon as it can be arranged. Good day, Mrs. Dursley.”
After Dumbledore left, Petunia double-checked the locks on both the front and back doors before running upstairs to check on Dudley, still sound asleep. She sat down next to his bed and thought about Lily. Once, a long time ago, she and Lily had been close, best friends as well as sisters. Lily, older by one year, had shown some strange abilities, but being children with open hearts, both Lily and Petunia took it for granted that magic as real. It was confirmed when Lily got her Hogwarts letter. That first year Lily was away, Petunia looked forward to her holiday visits with sweet anticipation, excited to learn everything there was to learn about this new world that had been opened to her sister. They both assumed that Petunia would be joining Lily at Hogwarts the next fall, despite the fact she had never shown any magical tendencies.
Summer came. Lily got her Hogwarts letter with her list of supplies for her second year. Petunia got nothing. For weeks she spent her waking hours sitting beside the open kitchen window, waiting on her owl, thinking her letter had somehow gotten lost, but it never came. Petunia cried out of jealousy that summer. Being jealous of Lily gave way to resentment of magic in general when Lily started spending more and more time away from home. She had to stay at school during holidays to study; she spent part of the summers visiting friends who lived in the Wizarding world full time. The summer that Petunia was 16 and Lily was 17 was the summer Petunia came to hate magic.
Petunia had decided to stay at home while their parents drove Lily to Kings Cross Station to catch her train to Hogwarts for her final year. On the way there, they were in a car accident. Lily escaped without a scratch. Their parents lingered in the hospital for days—and Lily was surrounded by her freaky magical friends and not one of them was able to use that magic to save Lily and Petunia’s parents. Petunia blamed Lily for their parents’ deaths—after all, she was the reason they had been driving to Kings Cross Station that day.
This is why Petunia hated magic—it had taken away her sister, it was unable to save her parents, it was now threatening her very happy normal life and putting her son in jeopardy. Yes, she may have to take Harry Potter into her home, but she would never allow magic in it. She decided not to tell her husband she had agreed to this, and hoped that wizard who had come by earlier would find another place to put the child and not bring him to her after all.
********** ********** ********** **********
November 1, 1981 mid-afternoon
Peter Pettigrew was exhausted, but his sense of self-preservation was fuelling him onward. In the back of his mind, he knew he should feel guilty for betraying his friends, and especially for placing young Harry in mortal peril, but he didn’t. He was always the outsider of their little group, and Lord Voldemort had promised him a chance to be recognized for what he was. He would be a loyal minion of the Dark Lord, the one who helped turn the tide in Voldemort’s fight for dominance. No longer would he be the tag-along, the afterthought.
But Lord Voldemort hadn’t succeeded. Something had gone wrong, and Lord Voldemort was gone. And Harry was still alive. And as soon as Sirius told Dumbledore and the Aurors that they had switched Secret Keepers, they would all know that it was Peter who betrayed them. Of course, knowing Sirius, he’d be out for blood and if he found Peter before the Aurors did…
That was it! All he had to do was let Sirius catch him and make it look like Sirius had killed him too! Then he could put his Animagus form to good use and hide until he figured out what was going on, what had happened to Voldemort and if he was coming back, and, if not, who was going to take Lord Voldemort’s place in the hierarchy of evil.
He knew Sirius was behind him, knew the dog could run faster than the rat. On the side of a busy Muggle street, he ducked behind a bush and transformed back into his human form. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he noticed the large black dog come to a halt a dozen meters or so from him, fluidly resuming his human form. Peter flinched at the determined, murderous gleam him Sirius’s eye.
Peter took a large gulp of air, steeling himself for what he was about to do. “Sirius, how could you?” he yelled. “Lily and James were our friends! How could you betray them?”
Sirius froze, knowing that in a way, Peter’s words were true: he had betrayed Lily and James by convincing them that Peter was a better choice for secret keeper. That moment of hesitation was all it took for Peter to create an explosion with his wand, leaving a large crater in the street between himself and Sirius, and utter chaos around him as the Muggles not directly hit by the blast screamed and ran for the superficial safety of their houses. Peter took advantage of the smoke and confusion to slide his wand into his left hand and cast a severing charm, neatly slicing off the index finger of his right hand, before transforming back into the rat form he would call home for the next 12 years and scurrying into the sewer drain just as the first group of Aurors Apparated onto the scene.
********** ********** ********** **********
November 1, 1981 late afternoon
After Sirius Black was taken into custody, Hagrid returned to the Order safe house just outside Bristol where he had left young Harry the previous evening with Madame Pomfrey, the Mediwitch from Hogwarts. He still couldn’t believe that Lily and James were dead, or that Sirius was responsible. And now Dumbledore wanted him to bring Harry to Privet Drive to live with Muggles. Hagrid had let slip to Professor McGonagall earlier that day that Dumbledore would be on Privet Drive, and he hoped she would be able to talk him out of this plan. It wasn’t right; Harry was sure to be a powerful wizard and growing up with Muggles, especially these Muggles from what Lily had told him of her sister, was an all-around bad idea. For the first time he could remember, Hagrid doubted Dumbledore’s decision.
Harry was eating toast with orange marmalade when Hagrid arrived. A teary-eyed Madame Pomfrey stalled as long as she could, cleaning him up and insisting that Hagrid take along a bag of diapers magically charmed to prevent diaper rash since she didn’t trust Harry in the hands of Muggles either, before she reluctantly handed young Harry to Hagrid.
Hagrid tucked the boy inside his coat once more and set off for Surrey, smiling when the babe drifted off to sleep just after they took to the air and set out over Bristol.
********** ********** ********** **********
November 1, 1981 evening
On a quiet street in Surrey, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid said goodbye to the young boy whose life had been forever changed overnight by the events that would make him a part of Wizarding history.
Twenty four hours ago there were six of them—the Marauders plus one and a baby. Now, one friend was in Azkaban for the murder of another, having betrayed two of them to their death. And Harry had been whisked off to live with his god-awful aunt and uncle. The remaining Marauder was alone, and he hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye. While the rest of the Wizarding world was celebrating, their infectious jubilation even leaking over into the Muggle world, Remus Lupin sat alone in the dark and finished off his glass of firewhiskey. He debated refilling it, and decided to push the glass away and lift the bottle up to his lips instead.
Author:
why_me_why_notBeta'd by:
humantales and lilpadfoot16Summary: Written in response to the 24-hour challenge. What happened during the 24 hours between the attack on the Potters and Harry being delivered to the Dursleys?
Disclaimer: Don't own the wizarding world or its inhabitants
October 31, 1981, evening
Lily Evans Potter was singing to her son Harry as she cleaned the kitchen of their small cottage. He was sitting in his highchair, laughing and clapping along. James was in the living room, working on some paperwork for the Order. Lily was missing her friends, and she knew James felt the same. They both hated the hiding but knew it was necessary to protect Harry. She wondered again if they had been wise to decline Dumbledore’s offer to be their Secret Keeper, but James had been adamant that the Secret Keeper be one of the Marauders. Dumbledore might have been the greatest wizard alive, and he might have defeated the dark wizard Grindewald, but he was still a manipulative old man and James was convinced he was keeping things from them.
Lily and James knew there was a spy in their inner circle, someone who had been leaking their whereabouts and their movements to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. James and Sirius were convinced it was Remus; their friendship hadn’t been the same since the incident with Severus Snape. He was still one of their closest friends, working tirelessly with the Order, dancing with Lily at hers and James’s wedding, doting over young Harry almost as much as Sirius had. As much as Lily’s heart protested, she eventually believed it because she wasn’t able to come up with an alternative. After all, whoever was untrustworthy was someone they held dear and close. It couldn’t be Sirius, their son’s godfather, her husband’s brother in all the ways that mattered. And Peter—well, to be honest if the thought had even crossed her mind she would have pushed it aside because Peter never really had the initiative to act on his own. He was always on the sidelines, and thinking back she realized that he would have heard more of their plans than anyone else since he tended to fade into the background and they would forget he was there at all. James was the Quidditch star, Sirius was the ladies’ man, Remus was the werewolf, and Peter—Peter was just Peter, a little kid tagging along with the big boys.
The last-minute decision to change their Secret Keeper was a mistake she would come to realize too late.
Lily should have known better than to assume they were safe. She had seen the destruction Voldemort was capable of, seen the horrors of entire families wiped out, but she still did not expect he would be able to reach them here. But he did.
When she heard James yelling at her to take Harry and get out of the house, her first thought was “What did they do to Peter?” Because Peter was their friend and he would never willingly betray them.
James yelled again for Lily to take Harry and run. She was too shocked to move for a moment, and only moved into action when she heard his body hit the floor. She didn’t have time to mourn her husband, only to think about protecting their child. She raced into the nursery and slammed the door behind her, knowing it was a futile effort but needing a moment to regroup, to save her son. The door burst open behind her and she turned to face Voldemort, the monster they had been actively fighting against since we left Hogwarts. Three times they had faced him and escaped; she knew this time there would be no escape. She guiltily wished that it had been the Longbottom boy he decided to go after, but quickly reminded herself Frank and Alice were her friends and didn’t deserve this either.
She pleaded with Voldemort, begging him to let her son live. He offered her the chance to save herself, to just give him the boy. Lily refused, and willed all her power, her magic, her love into protecting Harry as she heard the words of the Killing Curse, saw the green light fly from the wand of Voldemort…and sank into oblivion.
********** ********** ********** **********
Severus Snape and the other Death Eaters were milling around the graveyard where they had been summoned and ordered to stay. The Dark Lord had laughed in delight when they had first gathered, telling them that the Potters’ Secret Keeper had given him their location. The Dark Lord had to go alone after the Potters because no one else would have been able to find the house without being told by the Secret Keeper where it was, so Severus wasn’t surprised by the order to stay put until the Dark Lord returned. He was surprised, however, that the Dark Lord hadn’t produced Black for the amusement of the Death Eaters while they waited.
Severus knew about the prophecy, knew that the Potters had gone to ground in Godric’s Hollow and had passed over Dumbledore as their Secret Keeper in favor of Black. Stupid Gryffindors. Severus wondered sometimes if he had made the wrong decision when he started spying for the Order. It was hard enough to walk that fine line of being a spy, and since the side of the Light was filled with idiotic Gryffindors, complemented with a sprinkling of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs—well it sometimes put the outcome of the war in doubt.
Someone from Potter’s inner circle had been slipping secrets to the Death Eaters for months now. Severus had gone to Dumbledore with this information, was assured that Potter would be warned there was a spy in his ranks. But no, the fool still had to trust Black. And tonight the Potters would be killed and he didn’t even have time to warn Dumbledore or the Order about the attack.
The Dark Mark filled the sky above Godric’s Hollow and the Death Eaters’ circle filled with the excited chatter of triumph. Suddenly, there was a blinding pain in Severus’ left arm, and he gasped as he clasped the Dark Mark that was engraved there before feeling himself thrown off his feet and landing in a pool of darkness.
********** ********** ********** **********
Sirius Black was sitting on his back porch, wishing for the umpteenth time that this damned war with Voldemort were over. It was Halloween! He wanted to be able to take his godson out in the Muggle tradition of trick-or-treating, then come back and relax with his friends. Instead he was spending the evening alone. Remus was off on some Order assignment in France. He had tried to contact Peter several times that day but had not been able to reach him. He couldn’t go to Godric’s Hollow—well, he could, since Peter had told him the location of the Potters’ house, but he knew he was probably being watched. Not that it mattered; only Peter could give out the location of the house to anyone. The fact that Sirius knew it didn’t mean anything, though it would lead the Death Eaters to the right area, and Sirius would never take that risk.
Sirius had almost dozed off in his chair when noticed the Dark Mark appear in the sky—in the direction of Godric’s Hollow.
“No,” he whispered to the night. It wasn’t possible. Peter wouldn’t have betrayed them. Maybe the Death Eaters knew the Potters were in Godric’s Hollow and this was a threat? Maybe they had randomly picked Godric’s Hollow? Sirius’s mind was racing as he ran to the garage for his charmed motorcycle. He didn’t even bother with the invisibility booster as he flew towards Godric’s Hollow, his thoughts only on his friends.
When he touched down in Godric’s Hollow, his eyes widened in disbelief that the Dark Mark was actually directly over top of the Potters’ cottage! Jumping off the bike, barely remembering to turn it off, he ran into what was left of the house. “James! Lily! Harry!” He drew his wand as he crossed the threshold, training kicking in. Sliding along the wall, he noticed James lying face down on the floor of what had once been the living room. He flicked his wand with the spell the Aurors used to see if someone was still alive. Tears filled his eyes at the negative response but he shook them away as he headed towards the sound of Harry crying. At least Harry was okay enough to cry. Peering around the doorway to the nursery, afraid of what he’d find, he saw Lily on the floor in front of the crib. Also dead. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he approached Harry, noticing that he appeared fine, except for the tear-streaked cheeks and a bizarrely shaped cut on his forehead—like a lightening bolt.
Harry looked up at his godfather. Sirius was momentarily distracted by Lily’s eyes in the small boy’s face, staring at him with such trust. Misplaced trust. Sirius should never had talked James and Lily into using Peter as their Secret Keeper. He had known that everyone would suspect him, had thought that no one would suspect Peter. Of course, he had never thought Peter would betray his friends, either.
“Sir-us?” Harry’s sobs had subsided and he was holding his small, chubby arms up expectantly.
Sirius scooped Harry up and held him close, soaking up the fact that he was safe. After a moment, he reached back into the crib and grabbed Harry’s blanket—the blue one with snitches around the edges that Lily had bought when she first found out she was pregnant. Wrapping the blanket around the little boy, Sirius made his way back outside, keeping Harry tucked close to him and his wand at the ready, just in case. Outside the house, he noticed the familiar face of Rubeus Hagrid, looking confused as he gazed at where the cottage stood.
“Hagrid,” Sirius greeted warily as he crossed the wards provided by the Fidelius Charm.
“Sirius Black!” Hagrid returned warmly. “Dumbledore sent me to fetch young Harry.”
“That’s okay, Hagrid,” Sirius told him. “I’m his godfather; I’ll take him with me.”
“Well, Sirius, Dumbledore said I was to take Harry with me. We need to be going, since there are probably more Death Eaters around, and the Aurors will be here any minute. I’m sure they’ll be wanting to talk to you. About the Fidelius Charm?”
“What? But I’m not…I mean, Peter…Oh damn it!” Sirius remembered that no one, not even Dumbledore, was aware that they had changed Secret Keepers. He had to find Peter. The prat would be lucky if he didn’t kill him before he turned him over to the Aurors. “Here, Hagrid, take the motorbike.” Sirius cast a charm to enlarge the motorcycle for Hagrid.
Looking down at the boy in his arms, Sirius knew that he had to catch Peter quickly so he could get back to collect Harry. “I love you, Harry,” he whispered to the boy, kissing his forehead. “Be good for Hagrid and I’ll be back in a bit to get you.” He handed the bundled baby to Hagrid, helping the half-giant arrange Harry comfortably and safely inside his coat. “Take care of him, Hagrid. I’ll be back for him.”
After giving Hagrid a quick overview of how to work the motorcycle, Sirius stood back and watched the man fly off into the night with the little boy who was center of his universe. Then he quickly transformed into a large black dog, sniffed around until he picked up the recent scent of Peter Pettigrew in his Animagus form, and took off along the trail.
********** ********** ********** **********
November 1, 1981 mid-morning
Petunia Dursley was surprised, and not in a good way, when she opened her door to find an old man with a long white beard, wizarding robes, and a sad expression. “What do you want?” she asked coldly.
“Mrs. Petunia Dursley? I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” the man introduced himself. “May I come in and speak with you, please?”
Petunia hesitated, not wanting this man in her home but afraid of the gossip it would stir up if he were left standing on her porch. She stepped back and allowed him to enter, gesturing towards her living room. She did not offer him refreshments, did not want to give him any impression that he was welcome in any way.
After they were both seated, Dumbledore turned to Petunia, his eyes solemn. “I cannot express how much I dread what I am about to tell you, Mrs. Dursley. I am not sure what you know of your sister’s life, but she and her husband have been instrumental in the fight against a dark wizard, an evil man who calls himself Lord Voldemort. Lily and James recently were forced to go into hiding to protect Harry. Last night, however, our safeguards failed, and Voldemort found them. I’m very sorry, Mrs. Dursley, but Lily and James were both killed.”
Petunia stared at the elderly wizard, shaking her head in disbelief before bolting to the loo and losing her breakfast. She sat for several minutes on the cool tile floor, trying to process what she had just heard, before she stood up and rinsed her mouth out with water from the sink. After composing herself, she returned to find Dumbledore exactly where she had left him. Her voice was decidedly unfriendly when she spoke. “What does this have to do with me? I assume she and that Potter boy she married left enough money to cover their funeral expenses. I appreciate you letting me know, but you can leave now.”
“I’m afraid you there’s more to the story,” Dumbledore said. “Voldemort killed James and Lily, and tried to kill young Harry but in doing so the spell rebounded and destroyed Voldemort instead. Harry survived, and you and your husband, being his only relatives, will need to take him in.”
“Oh no! We will not!” Petunia yelled, before remembering her own sleeping child upstairs and lowering her voice if not her intensity. “I will not have a…a…a freak in my house contaminating my son! Obviously the brat is one of your kind if he lived through whatever...spell killed his parents, and I will not have it in my home! It’s evil, an abomination! Give him to that godfather of his—that crazy fool with the flying motorcycle that Lily was so fond of!”
“Alas, young Mr. Black will not be able to take Harry. He has been implicated as the one who betrayed Lily and James to Voldemort. He was their Secret Keeper. You are the only option.”
“We will not do it!” Petunia refused again.
“You do not have a choice. Let me explain this to you, Mrs. Dursley. Voldemort may be gone, but his followers are not. They know Lily was a Muggleborn, and they know that she has a sister. I daresay it’s a possibility that a few of them even know where you live. Now, when you take Harry in, I will ensure that protective wards are placed around your home to prevent any of Voldemort’s followers from harming you. If you do not take Harry into your home, I will not put up the wards. It’s that simple: you protect yourself by protecting Harry.”
Petunia fumed silently as she considered this. It was nothing short of blackmail! To protect her son, she would have to take in Lily’s brat too. “Fine,” she said finally. “Fine. I’ll take him in. But he will be raised without magic. I will not allow him to become a freak like the rest of you.”
Dumbledore stood and crossed back towards the front door. “I will arrange for the wards immediately and bring Harry to you as soon as it can be arranged. Good day, Mrs. Dursley.”
After Dumbledore left, Petunia double-checked the locks on both the front and back doors before running upstairs to check on Dudley, still sound asleep. She sat down next to his bed and thought about Lily. Once, a long time ago, she and Lily had been close, best friends as well as sisters. Lily, older by one year, had shown some strange abilities, but being children with open hearts, both Lily and Petunia took it for granted that magic as real. It was confirmed when Lily got her Hogwarts letter. That first year Lily was away, Petunia looked forward to her holiday visits with sweet anticipation, excited to learn everything there was to learn about this new world that had been opened to her sister. They both assumed that Petunia would be joining Lily at Hogwarts the next fall, despite the fact she had never shown any magical tendencies.
Summer came. Lily got her Hogwarts letter with her list of supplies for her second year. Petunia got nothing. For weeks she spent her waking hours sitting beside the open kitchen window, waiting on her owl, thinking her letter had somehow gotten lost, but it never came. Petunia cried out of jealousy that summer. Being jealous of Lily gave way to resentment of magic in general when Lily started spending more and more time away from home. She had to stay at school during holidays to study; she spent part of the summers visiting friends who lived in the Wizarding world full time. The summer that Petunia was 16 and Lily was 17 was the summer Petunia came to hate magic.
Petunia had decided to stay at home while their parents drove Lily to Kings Cross Station to catch her train to Hogwarts for her final year. On the way there, they were in a car accident. Lily escaped without a scratch. Their parents lingered in the hospital for days—and Lily was surrounded by her freaky magical friends and not one of them was able to use that magic to save Lily and Petunia’s parents. Petunia blamed Lily for their parents’ deaths—after all, she was the reason they had been driving to Kings Cross Station that day.
This is why Petunia hated magic—it had taken away her sister, it was unable to save her parents, it was now threatening her very happy normal life and putting her son in jeopardy. Yes, she may have to take Harry Potter into her home, but she would never allow magic in it. She decided not to tell her husband she had agreed to this, and hoped that wizard who had come by earlier would find another place to put the child and not bring him to her after all.
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November 1, 1981 mid-afternoon
Peter Pettigrew was exhausted, but his sense of self-preservation was fuelling him onward. In the back of his mind, he knew he should feel guilty for betraying his friends, and especially for placing young Harry in mortal peril, but he didn’t. He was always the outsider of their little group, and Lord Voldemort had promised him a chance to be recognized for what he was. He would be a loyal minion of the Dark Lord, the one who helped turn the tide in Voldemort’s fight for dominance. No longer would he be the tag-along, the afterthought.
But Lord Voldemort hadn’t succeeded. Something had gone wrong, and Lord Voldemort was gone. And Harry was still alive. And as soon as Sirius told Dumbledore and the Aurors that they had switched Secret Keepers, they would all know that it was Peter who betrayed them. Of course, knowing Sirius, he’d be out for blood and if he found Peter before the Aurors did…
That was it! All he had to do was let Sirius catch him and make it look like Sirius had killed him too! Then he could put his Animagus form to good use and hide until he figured out what was going on, what had happened to Voldemort and if he was coming back, and, if not, who was going to take Lord Voldemort’s place in the hierarchy of evil.
He knew Sirius was behind him, knew the dog could run faster than the rat. On the side of a busy Muggle street, he ducked behind a bush and transformed back into his human form. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he noticed the large black dog come to a halt a dozen meters or so from him, fluidly resuming his human form. Peter flinched at the determined, murderous gleam him Sirius’s eye.
Peter took a large gulp of air, steeling himself for what he was about to do. “Sirius, how could you?” he yelled. “Lily and James were our friends! How could you betray them?”
Sirius froze, knowing that in a way, Peter’s words were true: he had betrayed Lily and James by convincing them that Peter was a better choice for secret keeper. That moment of hesitation was all it took for Peter to create an explosion with his wand, leaving a large crater in the street between himself and Sirius, and utter chaos around him as the Muggles not directly hit by the blast screamed and ran for the superficial safety of their houses. Peter took advantage of the smoke and confusion to slide his wand into his left hand and cast a severing charm, neatly slicing off the index finger of his right hand, before transforming back into the rat form he would call home for the next 12 years and scurrying into the sewer drain just as the first group of Aurors Apparated onto the scene.
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November 1, 1981 late afternoon
After Sirius Black was taken into custody, Hagrid returned to the Order safe house just outside Bristol where he had left young Harry the previous evening with Madame Pomfrey, the Mediwitch from Hogwarts. He still couldn’t believe that Lily and James were dead, or that Sirius was responsible. And now Dumbledore wanted him to bring Harry to Privet Drive to live with Muggles. Hagrid had let slip to Professor McGonagall earlier that day that Dumbledore would be on Privet Drive, and he hoped she would be able to talk him out of this plan. It wasn’t right; Harry was sure to be a powerful wizard and growing up with Muggles, especially these Muggles from what Lily had told him of her sister, was an all-around bad idea. For the first time he could remember, Hagrid doubted Dumbledore’s decision.
Harry was eating toast with orange marmalade when Hagrid arrived. A teary-eyed Madame Pomfrey stalled as long as she could, cleaning him up and insisting that Hagrid take along a bag of diapers magically charmed to prevent diaper rash since she didn’t trust Harry in the hands of Muggles either, before she reluctantly handed young Harry to Hagrid.
Hagrid tucked the boy inside his coat once more and set off for Surrey, smiling when the babe drifted off to sleep just after they took to the air and set out over Bristol.
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November 1, 1981 evening
On a quiet street in Surrey, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid said goodbye to the young boy whose life had been forever changed overnight by the events that would make him a part of Wizarding history.
Twenty four hours ago there were six of them—the Marauders plus one and a baby. Now, one friend was in Azkaban for the murder of another, having betrayed two of them to their death. And Harry had been whisked off to live with his god-awful aunt and uncle. The remaining Marauder was alone, and he hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye. While the rest of the Wizarding world was celebrating, their infectious jubilation even leaking over into the Muggle world, Remus Lupin sat alone in the dark and finished off his glass of firewhiskey. He debated refilling it, and decided to push the glass away and lift the bottle up to his lips instead.
