So why had James asked Peter to be his Secret Keeper?
Peter rocked back and forth, staring at the empty fireplace in front of him. He’d had to accept the offer once it was made. The Dark Lord would kill him at the very least for passing up such an opportunity, and Peter held no illusions about keeping secrets from him. Maybe one of the others could, but he had never been as brave as they were. They had to know this. They had to have seen, all the years they were friends. And still....
Sirius had been there when it had all happened, staring at Peter with those dark eyes, expecting impossible things. Peter had heard stories and seen things none of his friends suspected. He was afraid, and now nothing could be done about it. He had been made Secret Keeper in time to betray them. Tonight was the night he would come, and Peter would have to tell him.
The mass of sweeping black robes, faceless entities wielding wands, all tinted in green by the symbol hanging in the air above them bore down upon Peter, who stood frozen before them. He could not move; his mind was in shambles. A few wands lifted together, as if the mob operated on one mind, and time slowed such that Peter watched the glows slowly forming on the tips of the wands as their wielders gained the strength to kill.
Something heavy smashed into him, and time raced ahead. He was knocked to the ground and watched as his old friends, the ones who had always protected him against bullies at school, protected him once again against something far worse. The two figures in front of him held back the faceless crowd until others could join them to drive them off, and ashamed of his cowardice and fear, Peter scrambled over slick pine needles and soft autumn leaves, away from the battle, away from his friends, away from any chance he had of redeeming himself.
The shadows were harsh in the forest, lit from one side by green brighter than the moon, casting sharp shadows on the ground. He did not see the figure in black until it was too late.
A branch clacked against the roof outside, and Peter jumped, staring at the door for several moments before he realized no one was there. Why did this have to happen? If only he could tell them. Peter winced. The Dark Lord did not accept betrayal, and aside from that, Sirius had never been very forgiving. He would never understand. He took his courage for granted. He didn’t know what it felt like to be terrified of anything, and Peter admired him and hated him for it.
He had no choice. He had no one to turn to. The Order of the Phoenix would hate him for betraying them, and the Dark Lord would kill him for the same. With the choice between those two, he knew which one he preferred.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. The Dark Lord was supposed to reward those who helped him, right? And he had been after James and Lily for a while because they had caused him so much trouble. With this information, Peter would be honoured among the Death Eaters.
But James and Lily would be dead, whispered a Peter long lost from the war, a younger Peter, the Wormtail his friends had known.
A happy James and Lily, caring for their son. They were doing what Peter could not, and now they would be killed for it. All because Peter couldn’t defy the Dark Lord. Because he had run away. And now he was taking the easy way out.
No. It wasn’t easy. It was the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. But he had no choice.
“Now, you have a choice,” James said quietly to Sirius, standing back from the bar at the Hog’s Head. “Do we want to use firewhiskey or mulled mead?”
“Firewhiskey has a better effect””
“”but a stronger taste. He might figure it out before he downs it all.”
“Couldn’t we Transfigure it or something?” Peter put in tentatively. “Make the taste what we want it to be instead of what it is?”
The other two stared at him for a moment, then split into grins. “Brilliant idea, mate. You go get Moony, and we’ll get the firewhiskey.”
Peter jumped out of his chair as if it had burned him. He watched as the doorknob slowly turned and swallowed, trying not to squeak with fear. He was here....
One last chance to run. One last chance to hide away in the hopes he could give them the slip and run to Dumbledore. Dumbledore would understand. If he could only make it there, maybe he could have some kind of chance. Hatred or death? Betrayal or torment? He stood still as stone as the door swung slowly inward. Indecisive. Too late.
Again.
The robes whispered darkly as the figure stepped in and the door slid shut. With only the light from the fireplace, the figure looked faceless, as they always did, shadows and fear lurking underneath the hood instead of a face. Peter stepped back, stumbled over the leg of a chair, and hastily tried to regain his balance. A female cackle cracked like a whip across the room, and he flinched. A different person this time.
“Hullo, pretty,” she purred, stepping forward. He bumped into a table this time and could go no farther. “What do you have for me?”
Peter stuttered and stumbled for a moment before he could get his tongue around the words. “J-James and Lily Potter.”
“The Potters, he says.” She continued to advance, and Peter’s fear grew with every step. “How interesting. Last I heard, they were under a Fidelius Charm.”
“I’m their S-Secret Keeper.”
“Really?” she drawled. “I suppose you should meet the Dark Lord, then, if this is true.”
“It is! I swear!” His palms slipped on the table, though he held onto the edge with a white-knuckled grip.
“All right, pretty. I’ll believe you ... if you prove it.” The shadows seemed to smirk at him, now close enough to touch. He cowered away from them, not daring to take his eyes off her. “Just tell me where they are, and if you’re right, I’ll take you to him.”
Peter hesitated for the blink of an eye. This was his last chance to back out. His last chance to save his friends. “The Potters live at 32 Hubbord Lane. Godric’s Hollow.”
He looked away as the words left his mouth.
She did not speak another word, but a shiver passed through him from the gaze of her unseen eyes, and with a crack that made him jump, she disappeared. Peter sank slowly to the floor right where he was, putting his head in shaking hands.
“I’m sorry.”