The Haunting of Peter Pettigrew

Malfoy Manor and Peter's Final Cost

Time seemed to inch into forever after Sirius left the world. Lana had never felt such emptiness. It was as if he wasn't only gone from the world, but he was missing from her soul. It was an awful feeling and one that left her more alone than she'd ever been. Not even when she was a child had it been as bad as this.

Then she realized something that poured salt into the wound. Lana had spent more hours with Sirius in the afterlife than she'd spent with him while they were both alive.

And wasn't that a painful thought.

Her short life had been filled with loss in the end, but with comparatively little time to heal from the loss. She'd been dealt painful blows but allowed no time to grieve.

When they'd lost Fleamont and Euphemia, they'd just graduated and joined the Order of the Phoenix. Voldemort had just begun murdering people in public in the name of blood supremacy. In the time before her murder the Order had lost Fabian and Gideom Prewett, Marlene McKinnon, and Dorcas Meadows.

Dorcas was found seven months before Lana was murdered. Dorcas had been a good friend and the perfect partner in their underground venture. She was a top Healer with a sharp sense of humor and bravery worthy of any Gryffindor, even though she was a Ravenclaw in school.

As close as they had gotten, Dorcas had died in the middle of war. There was no time to grieve in war.

But when you were dead and time went on like an endless maze, there was more than enough time to grieve. She knew that. She'd spent much of the afterlife mourning Dorcas, James, and Lily. She'd even, to a certain extent, mourned Peter. For although he'd been next to her, her best friend was gone as surely as if he'd died.

Still, non of that mourning had prepared her for missing Sirius. And, Lana knew, nothing really could have prepared her for that.

But, Lana took some heart. Soon, it would all come to an end. She looked down at her hand which glowed blue and she reached forward.

Then, with just the slightest scrape of a nail, she scratched a cut into the side of a fleshy cheek. The sight of blood brought a sick sort of satisfaction. Yes. She'd gotten much more powerful. It would all be over soon.

Lana looked down at the sleeping rat and smiled a wicked smile.

Soon.

A lot had happened since the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore had died. Harry had turned seventeen. Voldemort had taken over the Ministry of Magic and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were hunting some Horcruxes.

But now, the trio of friends were hidden at Grimmauld Place again, plotting their way into the Ministry to steal a locket from everyone's least favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Harry Potter had missed Sirius. That's why, while he and his friends were waiting for the Polyjuice Potion to brew, he found himself sitting for hours in his godfather's room hoping to get comfort from him somehow.

That's when he found the letters. The first letter was from his mother, Lily, and had given him a glimpse into the life he once had and could have had in a world without Voldemort. But the second...was from Lana.

It was in the front cover of one of the scrapbooks.

The one that Sirius was always looking at.

The edges of the letter were worn and frayed in small circular indents, as if fingertips had stroked them time and again. The ink was smudged. And the paper had bits of waterstains.

Tears.

Sirius's tears.

Harry stared at the letter in a mix of dread and curiosity. A bit of yearning, wanting to know his Godparents, but some reluctance, not wanting to invade what he knew to have been an intimate relationship.