The Haunting of Peter Pettigrew

The Ending

When she died, she didn't go to heaven.

She didn't go to hell either.

Nor did she end up, like her Godson would in 16 1/2 years, on Platform 9 3/4.

No.

When Lana Bowers died, she stayed right where she was, confused about everything that had just happened.

First, there was pain. She'd been tortured for hours and hours. She'd been cut and kicked and beaten into the ground. Eventually, they resorted to more magical means. They'd tried Imperio, she'd said nothing. They'd tried Crucio, she said nothing. Nor did she even give them the pleasure of her screams. She did not open her mouth to even whimper.

Second came the threats.

They'd threatened Sirius. Sirius, whose quick laugh and hypnotizing gray eyes made everything in this world seem bright and good. Sirius who had been the first to defend her from bullies. Sirius who was the only reason she'd made the House Quidditch Team. Sirius who was likely waiting at home for her and starting to panic as he came to realize she wasn't coming. Sirius, whose stolen kisses made her feel beautiful and so incredibly happy. Sirius, who had said he loved her. Sirius who she loved in return with every fiber of her being.

They'd threatened Remus. Remus of the tall lanky frame and scarred face. Remus, the first werewolf to Graduate Hogwarts and who had done so at the front of the class, yet who still wasn't hired because of his condition. Remus who had found her crying alone on the platform after the witch who ran Merlin's Home for Orphaned Witches and Wizards dropped her off, and he'd become her first friend. Remus who studied with her so she wouldn't fail Potions. Remus who made her laugh. Remus who was so inherently kind and good. Remus who was one of her brothers.

They'd threatened Peter. Peter, who she met with Remus on the train. Peter of the round face and wide eyed expressions. Peter, the only one of their group who was as cautious as she was. Peter who was the first one who learned that she was an orphan. Peter who had snuck off with her to the kitchens whenever she was having a bad day. Peter who had let her stay with him and his mother when she'd been in trouble at the orphanage. Peter who always had dumb joke when things got to intense. Peter who was one of her brothers.

They threatened all of them, but still her mouth did not open. The only sign of her pain was the tear tracks making their way down her dirty cheeks. The sight of those tears made them laugh, but she would not open her mouth.

They'd threatened the lives of the only people she cared about in the world who weren't protected by the Fidelius Charm. The charm that she'd embedded into her soul to protect the other people she cared about. The other people she loved.

She cared about James and his laughter and his concern for his friends. James who was the most devoted son, friend, husband, and father she'd ever seen. James with his constantly messy hair and sparkling eyes full of mischief. James who always had a joke and a smile. James who was stubborn and could be mean if cornered, but who also acted like a mother hen over each of the four other Mauraders. James who was the one who got his parents to petition the Ministry about how she was mistreated at the Orphanage. James who held her when she had caught Sirius kissing Faye Long and had realized she was in love with him. James who had made her Godmother to his Son. James her brother. She was quiet for James.

She cared about Lily and her kind green eyes and wry sense of humor. Lily who would enter any room and with one sly remark take James down a peg or two and make him that lovable human people adored. Lily who had mothered her instinctively growing up, her nurting nature undeniable. Lily who had braided her hair and giggled with her over the boys's antics. Lily who had just told her she was pregnant with her second child. Lily who said that if it was a girl, her middle name would be Lana, just like her Aunt. She was quiet for Lily.

She cared about Harry, her Godson, who was the perfect mix of the two of them.

This family she would die to protect. She'd die to protect the love of her life, her sister, her Godson, or any of her brothers, and she knew, with every ounce of her being, that the three young men that they threatened would die for them too. Breaking her silence never entered her mind. It was not an option to consider. Either the Order would somehow find her on time, or she would die.

Third and finally, unfortunately for Lana, came death. Voldemort himself raised the wand to her head, his Death Eaters chortling around him as, with a harsh guttural voice, he ended her life in a flash of green.

But she stayed there. She glanced around the room, confused as to why they had stopped attacking her, but they were talking now as if she wasn't there. They spoke as if she were invisible. That was when she looked down and saw her body.

Well then, she thought, I guess they can't see me. But if that is the case...why aren't I gone?

That was when her world ended. One would think that the world as she knew it would have ended with her death, but such was not the case. For her world to end, her entire outlook had to be shifted. Her feelings had to be overturned. Certainties had to become uncertain. Her soul had to be fractured. Death didn't do that. He did.

There, standing in black robes at the back of the crowd, coming forward with an all too familiar nervous face, was Peter Pettigrew.

Her first instinct was to run to him. She thought that he'd been taken after her, brought up when they killed her, then he'd be tortured next for the information on the Potters. She wanted to protect Peter from the evil in this room. She wanted her brother out of there and safe.

But before she could figure out how to protect him she noticed that he wasn't cursed as she had been. He wasn't struggling. He wasn't crying. His expression was blank, as blank as a sheet of empty parchment, like he wasn't there.

"You've done well, Peter," Voldemort's voice was smoother than it had been when he spoke to her. It was silky, smooth, like the skin of his snake. "We will expect you again when they come up with a replacement."

"Yes, Master."

Her dead heart broke.

She was in agony, in pain. She stumbled forward, like she'd been hit. She clutched her body as if a limb had been removed. She hadn't felt this pain when she died, but somehow she felt it after death.

Peter Pettigrew was the mole.

Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them all.

Peter Pettigrew had betrayed her.

Peter, her brother Peter, goofy Peter, kind Peter, scared Peter, had watched as she'd been tortured and murdered. Yet, his reaction was a blank face.

After the pain, came the fury. The all encompassing need for justice. Not revenge. Justice.

He would pay.

Even if the end result would be that she'd be lost into eternity, Lana Bowers was going to haunt Peter Pettigrew to his death.