you raise me up || harry potter

chapter 59

»»————-　song:　————-««

anger

★ by sleeping at last ★ 

like wildfire,
it starts in my chest

the silence grows louder,
tinging out in my head.

♢ ♢ ♢

It was a something out of a nightmare, honestly. Sirius Black, Remus Lupin... and now Peter Pettigrew. Might as well get James Potter up here from his grave and Levicorpus Snape right this second. 

In all seriousness, it was bizarre. It was surreal. It didn't help that Harry was standing quite close to the three. 

For one blurry second, the Marauders were whole again. 

The illusion shattered when Lupin said pleasantly, "Why, hello, Peter."

As Black and Lupin started in on Pettigrew, and as Pettigrew devolved into more and more desperate squeals trying to defend himself, Snape could only stare. 

Pettigrew was never the most aggressive out of the four (That title went straight to Black), or the most confrontational (Potter). But he wasn't a bystander like Lupin, either. His small stature tricked Snape at first, with his mousy look and timid expression. Snape had actually initially been afraid of Lupin, with the scary-looking scars and messy clothes. 

Pettigrew never initiated fights; he was too cowardly for that. And Merlin knew he never offered sympathy the way Lupin did. No, he was brainless little follower through and through. But as time went by, it became more and more apparent that Peter Pettigrew had a nasty streak. The vicious way his eyes would light up when Potter and Black found another victim, the smallest sadistic curl in his lip, the way he could hurl insults almost just as quickly as his friends...

How had Snape missed it? Deep down, in the darkest depths of his soul where the worst of his guilts slept dormant, one suspicion was beginning to awaken: that Pettigrew and Snape as a young man were alike in more ways in one. The cowardice, the sadism, the desperation for acceptance. Pettigrew just never outgrew that last bit.

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficult in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Lupin was saying in an almost conversational tone. If Snape had to admit one good thing about Lupin, it was that his good-naturedness was an almost frighteningly good tool for emotional manipulation. 

"Innocent, but scared!" Pettigrew squealed, after a moment in which Snape could almost hear the panicked gears grinding in his head. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban—the spy, Sirius Black!"

"How dare you," Black growled. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter—I'll never understand why I didn't see it sooner. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us... me and Reumus... and James..." 

"I... me... a spy... you..." Pettigrew glanced over at Snape multiple times as he stuttered. For the past five minutes he had seemed determined not to look at him, and looked terrified at the mere sight of him. Snape wondered if Pettigrew knew Snape had been a Death Eater. It wasn't exactly a secret; Voldemort never hid his fondness for his little potion master. But Snape would never have known Pettigrew was one too, much less a spy. Even twelve years later, Snape struggled to grasp just how cunning Voldemort was, just how deceptive.