The Haunting of Peter Pettigrew

The Prisoner of Azkaban

Throughout the years, Harry continued to see the woman around Hogwarts. Sometimes, when it was really late at night, he thought he heard her talking, although he didn't like to think about those times. Her voice, well, what he thought was her voice, wasn't as kind as it had been his first year. 

This voice he heard at night, was low and threatening. It hissed and warned of revenge after suffering great betrayal. The very sound of it sent shivers down his spine.

But then he'd see her. She'd be in the corner of his eye or in the shortest glance at the reflection in a mirror or window. One time, he thought he saw her talking to Nearly Headless Nick, but when he'd asked the Ghost about it he'd looked at Harry as if he were speaking Pig Latin.

Unlike her voice, every time Harry saw the woman, she looked so...sad. She'd be staring off into the distance or looking at him with a bitter sweet smile that made his chest warm just seeing it. He wanted to know who this woman was. He did. But at the same time, something told him to keep her a secret, even from his closest friends. And so he did. He kept her close to his heart and guarded her like a precious secret for him and him alone.

Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban and Lana had to admit that she was beyond impressed.

She'd visited him once a day for the past twelve years. Sometimes she'd sit with him, other times she'd respond when he spoke to her, not that he could hear her responses. Each day, her dead heart broke more as she watched him sink lower and lower into the depths of madness. But still, there was a thread of hope. 

Her Star was smart, and he remembered every word she had ever said. It was that devotion to her, and the realization that Peter was at Hogwarts with Harry, that spurned him into action. 

It had been an ongoing joke, really, between James Potter and Sirius Black. They were all at Potter Manor, the summer after their fifth year, lounging about. Euphemia had just told James and Sirius that they were bound to be locked up after they'd gotten in trouble for destroying James's entire bed room when they accidentally let off their back supply of fireworks. 

Of course, Lana and Remus had stayed downstairs reading, which is why no one was there to explain how bad of an idea it was for them to goof around with the igniting animators so close to the fireworks. 

After Mr. and Mrs. Potter had panicked and scolded the boys, and after, Euphemia had declared that, "You two will land matching cells in Azkaban if you don't shape up!" Of course, her scolding was always served with a side of warm cookies and equally comforting hugs, so such words never hit particularly harsh with their aim. She had sent the teenagers with a plate of cookies into the den and they were to spend the rest of the day away from fire hazards.

"Well Pads," James swung his arm around Sirius's neck as they flopped down on the couch together. "If we manage to get into Azkaban I think we ought to plan a way out. I'm certainly not going to stay there. Lily wouldn't like it."

"Is he talking about the Lily Evans of reality? The one who literally cursed him to Azkaban last month?" Lana sardonically whispered to Remus. She was in one chair, seated across from the sofa and Remus lounged on the other chair. Peter and his Mum were in Bath on Holiday so it was just the four of them. 

Remus, looking up at the two boys as if he couldn't imagine why they'd become friends so long ago, shook his head. "No. This is the Lily Evans of the future who will be madly in love with him. Remember?"

"How could I forget?" Lana snorted. "He brings this fictitious woman up every hour."

As usual when Sirius and James were on their fanciful rants, the wry truths spoken between Lana and Remus were ignored.