Cowardice
A/N: A companion piece to Courage. I think I let someone's actions in that piece go unexplained for far too long...
~*~LIZ
He would not choose a side.
That was his decision, he told himself. Sides, after all, were dangerous. People who chose sides were killed. People who stood up to Voldemort went the way of Edgar Bones.
People who stood up to Dumbledore ended up in Azkaban.
It would all boil down, he knew, to what he feared the most. It would all boil down to which he was more willing to suffer; a quick, painless death... or a lifetime of imprisonment and despair.
Something which would end... or something which would last for decades.
Damning himself... or guaranteeing a nice seat in Hell.
He would not choose either. He would not suffer either. Who were Dumbledore and Voldemort, the two rising factions, to demand his allegiance? Who were Bagnold and Crouch to tell him what he should do?
Who were they to decide what strength was? What courage was?
He had strength enough to do what all others would shrink from. He had courage enough to risk the wrath of both sides....
... for the guarantee of safety on either one or the other.
Harry would not be a problem. Voldemort would kill the boy, after all. Everybody who would simply be honest with himself knew that.
But if he gave the boy a fighting chance, if he gave him some advantage – Voldemort would win anyway; who could realistically hope to match the might of Voldemort against an infant – Dumbledore would be forgiving. He knew Dumbledore, with his love for second chances. Dumbledore was always giving people second chances.
He would give Harry a weapon, an advantage. He would protect Dumbledore's spy. And then, if things went south, he would have bargaining chips with the old man.
But if Voldemort caught him, a bargaining chip would be useless. No, Voldemort he would have to serve, and faithfully.
Peter Pettigrew knew exactly where his loyalty lay.
With himself.
James, Lily, Sirius, Remus... they could take care of themselves. They'd be all right.
And if not...
Well, Peter told himself, sometimes there's just nothing that can be done.
He apparated away.
***
He met Malfoy in the Hog's Head, as the letter he'd received the day before had said to do. To his relief, Dumbledore's fool of a brother was not behind the counter – a young, pretty little thing in whom he was most interested stood behind it instead – but he did not drop his glamour spells. If nothing else, they could be useful much later in the evening, were he to seek... entertainment.
Lucius Malfoy was sitting at the corner table in the back, his eyes following the slim young bartender with a feral gleam. Chuckling quietly, Peter made his way to the older man's side, his smile disappearing immediately when Malfoy swung cold, disdainful eyes his way.
It was quite clear, Pettigrew realized suddenly, that since they were not equals, he was by no means entitled to find amusement in anything Lucius Malfoy did.
He sat down warily across from the other man, eyes scanning the bar worriedly.
He'd never realized that the meeting could be a trap. After all, the capture of James Potter's friend was a very important one...
His thoughts must have showed on his face, for Lucius drawled with a broad smile, “We don't need to ambush you, Wormtail. The Dark Lord already owns you.”
He stayed for less than five minutes. Calmly, Malfoy told him to report to his manor in Wiltshire the next night at eleven o'clock. He reminded him to bow in the presence of the Dark Lord and speak only when spoken to. That said, he cautioned Pettigrew to not change his behavior, saying that if he acted too brave or intelligent, though surely, that would be very difficult for Peter to achieve, his... friends would suspect him.
“You must act foolish and cowardly,” Malfoy said quietly. “Your every action must be testament to the cowardice you have been enslaved by since your baneful birth, but you must win the favor and admiration of your friends all the same. That is not, I trust, outside the scope of your abilities.”
Sneering at the rat, Malfoy swooped off, coming to a stop before the young bartender. He took her arm and bent to whisper in her ear, smiling delightedly when the girl blushed and giggled. A moment later, the girl was tossing her apron on the counter and gleefully abandoning her customers – though, admittedly, there were only two others – and allowing Malfoy to lead her into the back room.
Smirking, Pettigrew left the bar, highly amused by the fact that he and Lucius had been thinking along similar lines.
Distantly, he wondered if the girl would live to see night's end.
***
He became everything they had ever wanted him to be.
Over the months that followed, Peter Pettigrew gained a reputation within the Order. He was quick to volunteer for dangerous assignments, including rescue missions, and helped out on as much intelligence as possible – in fact, the only information he was not privy to was whatever damnable topic Lily was researching, for the Old Fool would allow no one but Lily to look at the blood magic she was studying.
His friends commented on how brave he was getting – James said cheerfully that Peter must have been one of those types who flourished in adversity, while Sirius laughed and proclaimed to everyone who would listen that he'd known Peter “had it in him all along, the little devil!”
The only exception was Remus. His old lupine friend had never really liked Peter as much as James and Sirius had. For years, Peter had wondered when Remus stopped trusting him... Had it been when they became Animagi? Was it his rat form that had done it? Peter didn't know, but he knew he would have to watch his step around Remus John Lupin.
He got closer to Lily, and as the weeks passed, he gradually became involved in her research. And as he grew closer to her, he came to hate James... Why should he have such a remarkable woman all to himself? Desperately, Pettigrew began to wish that the Dark Lord would order that he seduce Lily Evans Potter, but after a short time, he admitted to himself that even if he were ordered to, he could not do so.
Lily would never forgive him, and he would lose his chance to retain a place on the side of the “Light”. And of course, Lily, the silly little Mudblood, would go to James, who would in turn tell Remus and Sirius.
His usefulness to the Dark Lord would end, and with it, his life.
So he made no move toward Lily, and slowly, he became her friend. When James and Sirius were out on dangerous assignments, he would go to her house and sit with her, reassuring her, holding her as he cried. He would play with little Harry daily – though, for some reason, he could never surpass Remus and Sirius as his favorite uncle, and seemed to make the young boy cry very often. He became her confidante, her trusted friend....
... Everything but her lover.
And with the growth of Lily's trust in him came the growth of the Order's trust. Soon, he was researching magical rites for Dumbledore, charged with figuring out which rites the Dark Lord had performed, and was likely to perform in the future. He was given books on Blood Magics – valuable tomes from Dumbledore's private collection, which only Lily had ever seen aside from the Old Fool himself.
There, he found his answer.
He had planted a book back in seventh year, when he had first begun to realize that he would have to act against both sides one day... but never really quite accepted it. Runes, protection spells, which had been lost for ages... which even Voldemort didn't know.
People thought Peter was stupid. They didn't know how absolutely brilliant he was at Runes.
And he found his answer.
A time-freezing spell, blood rites and protection runes.
It would all be up to Evans – he couldn't call her Lily anymore, not when she might die, and he couldn't bear to call her Potter – he knew that. Peter Pettigrew would not save Harry Potter. No, it would be down to Lily Evans Potter to do that.
If Harry were to be saved, it would only be by mere chance.
If Harry were to be saved, then the universe would truly want him to survive.
And if the universe wanted it, then Peter couldn't change it anyway.
Pulling the book toward him, he began to memorize the incantations needed, and made a note to begin the search for the enchanted knife immediately.
***
They played right into his hands.
After years of silence, Lupin couldn't hold his distrust in any longer. He exploded at an Order meeting, accusing Peter of lying to all of them, of betraying all of them, of trying to seduce Evans. Potter and Black had been outraged, and Evans shocked. When Snape, Dumbledore's pet Death Eater, had been unable to confirm Peter's status – the Dark Lord, in all his wisdom, had let only Lucius and Bella know of his position – Lupin was ostracized. Angrily, Dumbledore rose to his feet and proclaimed his trust in Peter, and demanded that Lupin either take back his words or leave.
Lupin had left a broken man.
For weeks afterward, Black and Potter were in a fury, disgusted that Lupin, for whom they had done so much, had said such horrible things about their friend. Their rage grew and twisted, until finally, Sirius was convinced that Lupin “must have gone over to Voldemort.... we have to admit, James, he is a dark creature....”
They became protective of Peter. They defended him to everyone, stood up for him, spent more time with him. It was perfect, and Peter basked in it.
Lily Evans Potter rarely spoke anymore. She would not go near him. She would not look at him.
And he knew that Lupin had convinced her. He knew that she believed Peter had been trying to seduce her, even if she believed nothing else Lupin had said.
But he knew, just as well, that she would never tell Potter.
She would never risk the same fate that poor Loony Lupin had met.
He found the knife, and hid it in a secret panel within his apartment.
The pieces began to fall into place.
***
He watched Voldemort stride into the house with calm, calculating eyes. Moments later, the shouts broke out, and he heard Potter screaming for Evans to run, and take the Potter brat with her.
He knew his time had come. Casting a disillusionment spell on himself, he made his way silently into the house, stealthily as a rat, and slipped quietly up the stairs.
And there was Lily Evans Potter, staring at the abomination that was James Potter's son.
For a Mudblood, she had had a great deal of potential.
She could have been so much more.
“What am I doing?” Evans whispered. “How can I do this to him?”
And Peter wondered, silently, how he could do what he was doing.
But moments later, when Potter's whore was frozen in place, he did what he had to do.
Peter Pettigrew, he thought with a self-satisfied smile, did the brave thing.
Not a Gryffindor, indeed.
He stole away, little Harry staring after him in confusion and fear, and left the house the same way he had come in. Silently. Unnoticed.
He left his old friends to their fates.
He hoped, for his own sake, that little Harry Potter would remember what he had done for him. He'd done the boy a favor, and whether Harry would be around to collect... well... that was up to Evans. It didn't really matter. Dumbledore would know someday, if the Potter brat died. He'd know that good ol' Peter Pettigrew had tried to save the brat, and he would protect him.
Smiling at his fortune, he ran across the yard, and he did not look back.
When Voldemort screamed from inside the house, Peter's smile died.
And he knew. He knew that Voldemort had fallen.
He had betrayed both sides. Sirius would be after him in a heartbeat, and Bella – so much more loyal than Lucius – would be right behind her cousin. He had lost each of them loved ones.
He had cost each of them years of effort.
Well, he thought, maybe it wasn't such a brilliant plan after all.
His last thought before he transformed was one of deepest irony.
Lupin was right. His Animagus form suited him well.