Author's Note: Yes, you have stumbled upon the third and final part of the Seeker trilogy. Although this one can be read alone. So If you haven't yet read parts one and two, don't be discouraged! Keep reading, it's fine! Now, I feel it only fair to warn you that this portion of the Trilogy will be a tad longer than its fellows. I realized this when I had written about 10,000 words, a little more than 24 pages, and had just reached the halfway mark. So, it will be uploaded in three parts. This is part one. Part two will be up just as soon as it's finished. Enjoy the last installment! (and I encourage you to read Watching the Seeker and Capturing the Seeker either now or later, too!)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Peter or Remus or anyone from the Potterverse. Wish it were otherwise, true enough, but sadly, they belong to the genius that is JK Rowling.
Keep in mind: Writing between dashes (-- like this --) is a flashback.
Remembering the Seeker
I know this doesn't begin to make up for anything I've done, and I am so desperately sorry for everything I've put you all through. I don't ask for your forgiveness, or any forgiveness at all. I ask only that you try to understand why.
As he signed the letter, one tear dropped onto the page. Flashes of a scene three years ago took over, as much as he tried to stop them.
—"We've been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. . ." It was my fault! I admit it! But let me explain!—
He folded the letter carefully.
—"He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too . . . . You've got to help me, Remus . . ." No, tell them the truth! Admit why! Help them understand!—
He placed the letter in its envelope.
—"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 you were the spy from the start." No, please! "You always liked big friends who'd look after you . ." No! That's not it, I swear! It wasn't like that! "Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it." I told them not to, begged them—". . finestmoment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters." You don't understand! I would never hurt James! He forced the truth!—
He addressed it to Moony, hoping Remus would read.
—"James would have understood, Harry . . . he would have shown me mercy . ." He said it didn't matter . . he said "Oh, well,"—
"To Remus," he whispered to the owl.
—"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" I tried! I was trying to keep you safe! Please understand! How can I make you believe?—
He watched as the owl bearing his letter flew away, knowing what would happen now.
—"You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family." NO! He promised to keep you safe! To keep James safe! I foolishly trusted him, yes, but I would never sell James to him! James knew that!—
He collapsed in a chair, hand over his eyes, and let himself remember.
—"James, you've got to stop him! I tried, but he wouldn't listen!" Peter Pettigrew panted, running the Common Room. The sixth year boy with messy black hair looked up as he came in.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Sirius! He's telling Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow. He's probably already told him! I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen!" James had jumped up at the words 'Whomping Willow.'
"Peter, listen to me. Find Sirius and keep him here. I don't care how; Stun him if you have to, but get him here and hold him here. I'm going after Snape." He grabbed his cloak and headed for the portrait hole.
"Hurry!" Peter said after him. James ran down to the Entrance Hall as fast as he could. Running out onto the grounds, he glanced at the sky. The moon was full, near the horizon. The transformation would have just taken place.
He stopped briefly to catch his breath, but started running again as he saw a shadow approach the Whomping Willow. And I'm too far away to stop him! James cursed mentally.
"Snape!" he yelled. "Stop!" The figure turned, holding a long branch, and leered at him as James ran closer.
"No! Finally, I'll know Remus' secret, too!"
"Snape, don't do this!" James shouted in vain before the tree froze and Snape disappeared under its roots. James quickened his pace. The tree unfroze just before he reached it, whipping violently, catching him across the face. Ignoring the blood running down the side of his face, he picked up the branch Snape had dropped, knowing the danger increased every second. He ducked the branches and pressed the knot. Gasping for breath, he stumbled down the pathway under the roots.
From far ahead of him, he heard a growl and found an underlying store of energy. He raced along the corridor, turning a final curve. He gasped. There in front of him were two figures. One was Snape, pale, trembling, and apparently frozen in place. And ahead of him was the werewolf who had just caught sight of the human within its reach.
The werewolf snarled again, turning completely and advancing on Snape.
"Severus, run!" James shouted. Snape jumped but remained frozen. "Get out of here!" James shouted more urgently, shaking Severus just as the werewolf charged. That was all it took. Severus turned and fled. James transformed not a moment too soon, and caught the charging werewolf with his stag's horns. He reared and knocked the werewolf down, then pushed him back through the door that was standing open, but not before he had managed to get a few scratches on him. Once it was inside, James transformed back into his human form, slammed it shut, and gasped "Colloportus," before collapsing by the door.
He could hear Remus on the other side, howling in his rage. "Sorry, Moony," he whispered. He did not want to think about what might have happened if Peter had not told him in time. As his exhaustion and horror melted away, a new feeling filled him. Anger. Anger at what Sirius had almost done.
Seething, he strode out through the tunnel and back up towards the school. By the time he reached Gryffindor Common Room, he was shaking with suppressed rage, angrier with Sirius than he had ever been before. Peter took one look at James' face and silently pointed toward the fire, where Sirius was sulking, his face illuminated by the flames. James advanced, breathing hard and scowling.
"That was stupid, Sirius," he said, his voice icy cold. "That was probably the stupidest thing you've ever done. You are an idiot!" He flung every word at Sirius, but Sirius merely snorted and didn't look at him.
"He deserved it."
"Who?"
"Snape. He deserved what he got. Idiotic prat."
"Now is not the time for you to be judging others, Sirius."
"What is the big deal, James?" Sirius asked, finally standing to face him.
"The 'big deal'?" James asked, incredulous. "The 'big deal' is that you got so caught up in your petty little revenge against Snape that you didn't stop to consider the consequences. You just jumped right in!"
"I thought about them. I'm probably looking at detention, but I don't –"
"Not for you," James shouted, finally losing his temper. "Right now, I don't really care what happens to you! I'm talking about Remus. The consequences for Remus. Did you consider them?" Sirius froze and the blood drained from his face. He mouthed soundlessly. James continued heartlessly. "No, you didn't. You completely forgot that while you were sending Snape to face a werewolf, that werewolf is a person and that person is supposedly your best friend! You idiot! Don't you realize what might have happened?"
Sirius sat down, face ashen. "I - I didn't think – " he started, weakly. James showed him no mercy.
"That is extremely obvious." The ice had returned to his voice. "You didn't think. You know the time following transformation is the most painful part! You know, that had your plan managed to work, we wouldn't have been facing two werewolves at Hogwarts. We would have been facing one mangled body and one Remus being called up in front of a committee and being destroyed as a danger to society! You know the Ministry's views on werewolves. And you know that Dumbledore had to play a lot of power cards to get Remus here in the first place! You know all that. You just didn't think. And what's more, you didn't listen. Peter tried to stop you, and from now on, if I were you, I'd listen to Peter, because his voice is carrying a lot more weight than yours right now, and his head is on a whole lot straighter!"
"James," Peter said quietly and shook his head. James sighed.
"Sirius, you are going to sit right here and wait. Snape will have wasted no time in going to Dumbledore, and I need to make an attempt to fix what you have done tonight, to keep two of my best friends from being expelled. You are going to wait there until you are called for by the Headmaster, at which time, you will make no excuses, but simply tell the truth and take full responsibility for what happened tonight." James looked at Sirius, who was still staring, lost, into the fire. A tear slid down his cheek, and James' expression softened, anger flowing out of him at the sight.
The exhaustion coming back, James sat beside Sirius and put an arm around his shoulder. Sirius jumped and turned his grief-stricken face toward James. "I'm not trying to be the bad guy, Sirius," James said quietly. "I do care what happens to you. I just don't understand what happened to make you lose sight of what's most important. And I'm sorry this happened at all."
James sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and strode from the Common Room. He wound his way through the halls and quickly as he could, before stopping in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He leaned against the wall, waiting.
He didn't have long to wait. All too soon, the gargoyle had leapt aside, and Snape, white-faced, stepped out. When he saw James, he tried to sneer, but the expression was considerably less effective than normal.
"You'll pay for this, Potter. You and your little friends. You'll pay–"
"That is enough, Mr. Snape. Please head for the Hospital Wing while I talk to Mr. Potter."
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, James followed the Headmaster into his office. He caught sight of himself in a mirror on the wall and grimaced. A large welt on his forehead was still bleeding sluggishly. He put a hand up to the wound, gasping at the pain. Dumbledore handed him a damp cloth.
"Thank you," he muttered, pressing it to his head.
"I would send you straight to the Hospital Wing, did I not need to speak with you, undeterred by pain potions." When James nodded, he continued. "I do not, I think, need to impose upon you the seriousness of what has happened tonight, James."
"No, sir."
"Mr. Snape was demanding you be expelled, all four of you, but I would hope to avoid expelling anyone." Dumbledore's face was grave. "What happened?"
"I was in the Common Room when Peter rushed in, saying Sirius hd told Severus how to get past the Whomping Willow. Peter claimed he tried to stop both Sirius and Severus, but with no success. So he came and got me. I told him to find Sirius and hold him in the Common Room while I went to try and stop Severus. He wouldn't listen to me, either, and before I could physically stop him, he had gone. I followed as quickly as I could. The tree caught me in the face. Scratched my arms up, too." The scratches on his arms were really from Remus, and though James felt guilty lying to the Headmaster, he knew it was better for Remus this way. "At the end of the passageway was Severus, wand in hand, frozen in place. The door was open and Remus was standing in the doorway, ready to charge. I pushed Severus out of the way and told him to run. I finally got through to him, and he did, just Remus charged at me, instead."
Dumbledore leaned forward, eyes full off concern. "He didn't bite you, did he, James?"
"No, sir."
"He didn't hurt you at all?" Dumbledore sounded incredulous. James shook his head. "How on earth did you managed to fight off a fully grown werewolf?" James stood uncomfortably. He hated lying to Dumbeldore, but the truth was serious enough to really get them expelled.
"I was lucky," he settled on. "I was damn lucky. Sorry, Professor. I Stunned him in the eyes before he had enough time to dodge. I resealed the door after getting him back inside. Then I went back to the Common Room where Sirius was waiting for me.
"Sir, I'm not going to make excuses for Sirius. He was stupid. His lack of thought put everything you worked for to get Remus here in jeopardy. I don't know what happened to make him lose his head so badly, but he honestly hadn't thought of the consequences. It took me to impress that upon him. He knows now. Once he realized . . . he's not going to make any excuses, either."
"Severus thinks you were in on this. Were you?"
"No, sir."
"And Peter?"
"No, sir."
"Sirius has full responsibility?"
James nodded gravely. "Yes, sir."
"Bring him to me. Bring them both. Then report to Madam Pomfrey." Nodding, James returned to the Common Room. Heart heavy, he took Peter and Sirius to see Dumbledore. Dumbledore spoke with Peter first, leaving James and Sirius outside. Sirius was white with shock.
"What have I done? What have I done?" he kept whispering, guilt racking his body.
After a few minutes, Peter came out, and Sirius, meek for the first time in his life, went in. Peter sat on the ground beside James, where they sat in silence for a long while. Then James spoke.
"He's lucky you were there, Pete. They both were." Peter shook his head.
"Did you tell Dumbledore about us?"
"No. Did you?"
"No, but I feel awful about lying."
"Me too. But tonight is not the night to reveal such things."
"Do you think Sirius will?"
"I don't know."
"James . . . I got you because I knew I couldn't have done anything. A rat is no good against a werewolf. I'm not strong enough." James heard something in his voice. Envy? No, it wasn't envy. It was . . regret. And worry.
"You were strong, Peter. You were strong enough to know your limitations. Not everyone is."
"Really?" Peter looked up at his friend, hopeful.
"Really."
"James . ." Peter hesitated before continuing. "You . . . you know I would never do anything to hurt you, don't you?" A line of worry creased James' forehead, and he winced involuntarily at the pain. "Shouldn't you be in the Hospital Wing?"
"Yes, but this is more important. I know that you would never hurt me, Peter. As I would do nothing to hurt you. Why do you ask?" Peter shrugged and looked away.
"Things people are saying."
"What things?"
"That . . . that I just – hang around you three. That I do it for – the glory, or the power. That . . that I'm not really your friend, just something to . . . amuse you." He hung his head.
"Absolutely not," James said firmly. "That is true in no way, and you know it. And anyone who would say such things isn't worth listening to. I value your friendship, Pete. You know that, right?"
"Yes, but . . ."
"But what?"
"The Animagus form a person takes is supposed to represent their true inner self. And I'm a rat." Peter looked up to meet James' eyes, pain etched in his face. "Sirius is a dog, and it's easy to see why. He's fun and playful and doesn't take anything seriously. You're a stag, and that's no mystery, either. Powerful and respected, with grace and charm. But me?" His voice broke. "I'm a rat. What does that honestly say about me? A rat! A creature known for spreading disease, a creature people shrink from. A sneak, a filch, a liar, a scoundrel, a thief. Someone who . . who can't be trusted. That's who I am." He was bitter now. "I am so . . . afraid . . . of living up to my inner self, James. It terrifies me," he whispered.
James listened, patiently. This had been eating at his friend for a good while now, that was plain to see. "What year were you born, Peter?" he asked softly. Peter looked startled by the question.
"1960, you know that."
"The rest of us were born in '59, but you were born in '60. Do you know what 1960 is?" Peter shook his head, bewildered. "It's the year of the Rat in Chinese Zodiac. Do you know what being born in the year of the Rat means? It means you tend to be imaginative, charming, and truly generous to the people you love. You are compatible with others, hard-working, and never without admirers. Your attributes range from charm and humor to honesty and meticulousness. You learn early and quickly and are able to express yourself easily."
"I'm not going to ask how you know all that, James, even though I find it a bit freakish that you do, but you can extol the virtues all you want. There has to be a downside somewhere." James shrugged.
"True enough. You tend to be a penny pincher. You keep your own secrets well, but want to learn everything about everyone else's. You also try to do too much at once. You scatter yourself too thin, and end up accomplishing little. You hunger after power and wealth and status."
"See?" Peter said bitterly.
"I'm not done. Rats tend to lead pleasant and happy childhoods. However, the second part of their life is often troubled with grief and guilt and turmoil. But your old age tends to be as peaceful as anyone could wish. You are level-headed in a crisis and because you live by your wits, you escape pressing situations with ease."
"James . . ."
"You know who else was a Rat? What other people were born in the year of the Rat? Plato, Haydn, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Tolstoy!"
"Plato was thought crazy, Haydn was a schmuck, and Mozart was a drunk. Real role models."
"But they were brilliant."
"But I'm not." He looked at the floor again. It was costing him to say this. "I'm not brilliant and I'm not strong and –" he stopped and stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears "–and I'm . . scared. I'm scared of what I might be capable of if I'm not strong enough to resist or smart enough to recognize a trap, and someone uses that fear against me. Against you. All of you."
"Peter, look at me," James said, softly but firmly. Reluctantly, Peter turned his tear-filled eyes to meet James'. "There will be things you do in your life that you'll regret. There may be things you do in your life that I'll regret. But none of that matters. You may be led into making a wrong decision, but it will be because you thought it was benefitting your friends. There is nothing you wouldn't do to keep your friends safe. I know that. I am thankful that I am your friend, for that very reason. I have someone who would do anything to keep me safe."
"And if I fail?" He was looking away again, as if he didn't really want to ask this question, but knew he had to. His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. James shrugged.
"Oh, well." Peter looked up at him, startled, but finally gave a genuine smile.
"Thank you, James."—
Tears fell down the man's face. He didn't bother to wipe them away. "I'm sorry, James," he whispered. "This is what I was afraid of. I'm so sorry."
He stood, squared his shoulders, and faced the door, knowing what would come. And, as he faced his end, he felt no fear, no dread, had no second thoughts. He was calm. He shut the door carefully behind him and nodded. He was ready. "Goodbye," he whispered, then began his walk down the hall.
He'd grown old. The strain had begun to show long ago, but since May it had become very clear. He barely recognized the face in the mirror. Approaching forty, his sandy hair was prematurely grey and his face was drawn, its wrinkles and lines set deep. He was tired, and he'd been tired for a long time. Sighing, he looked away from the mirror, rubbing his eyes, and collapsed in a nearby chair. He stared out the window, and let himself remember.
—Memories of last night had haunted him since the moon had set. Madam Pomfrey was treating him as if it had just been a particularly painful transformation. Did she know? Did anyone know? Of course. Snape had to have told someone.
He had to think about it. He couldn't think about it. He couldn't bear to think what would have happened if James hadn't shown up. How had he known? How had Snape known? How much longer did he have before the Ministry came? Was there any way to escape what he knew had to be coming? He couldn't bear it.
"There is a visitor for you, Mr. Lupin." Remus sighed and turned his head away as the visitor approached. He didn't want to talk about it. He had to talk.
A glance had shown him that his visitor was Sirius. A Sirius he didn't know. He looked close to tears and more humble and helpless than Remus had ever seen Sirius, or ever wanted to see him again. His heart, which had been lounging near his feet, now jumped into his throat. It couldn't – he hadn't –
"It was me." Sirius' voice was heavy with grief. Remus hadn't believed it. Couldn't believe it. How could Sirius have done something like this? "It's all my fault, Remus. I told Snape how to get past the willow." As much as he wanted to shout, Remus remained silent, looking away. He waited for Sirius to finish.
"It was stupid. I was an idiot. I didn't think. If you never want to speak to me again, I understand. I'd deserve it."
"Were you punished?" Even Remus was surprised at how cold and detached his voice sounded.
"No Hogsmeade until after Christmas next year. I report to McGonagall at the end of classes each day, eat my dinner in solitude, and do my homework under her eye for the rest of this year. Weekends are spent in detention. I got off light, really." His voice broke. "I should have been expelled."
Remus remained silent, still not looking at Sirius. The tears spilled down his cheeks. "I would have killed him, Sirius. I wouldn't have been able to help it." Finally, he turned his head to look coldly at Sirius. "I–would–have–killed–him!" he said painfully through clenched teeth.
Sirius closed his eyes and look pained. "I know."
"When are they coming for me?" Each word cost him.
"Who?"
"The people from the Ministry, Sirius." He didn't mean to sound so harsh and cruel, but he was angry – truly angry – at Sirius for the first time in his memory. "The ones who are coming to take me away."
"They aren't coming." He sounded so confident of this, but it couldn't be true.
"Don't be daft, Sirius. When they read the report –"
"There is no report."
"There will be–"
"There is no report." Sirius looked up and met Remus' eyes.
"How–"
"There is no report, Remus," he said again. "There will be no report."
"How?"
"No one was hurt. Snape wasn't hurt and James wasn't hurt by you–"
"He was!"
"He won't admit it–"
"I don't want him protecting me!"
"Well, he's going to anyway!" Sirius shouted. Silence reigned for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "So is Peter. So . . so am I. As long as James doesn't change his story, there's no need for a report." Remus couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"How do you know?"
"Because I checked. And I showed Professor Dumbledore. And there won't be a report."
"Why?"
"Because none of it was your fault, Remus." Sirius sighed as a single tear fell down his cheek. "It was mine. And I took full responsibility for what happened."
"Why?" Remus didn't understand. Did he dare hope?
"I was stupid." He stood. "And I didn't think about you. And I'm trying to fix that." He started to leave.
"Sirius, wait!" Remus sat up in his bed. "You weren't going to tell me that, were you?" Sirius turned.
"Tell you what?"
"That you took the responsibility."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because. I wasn't going to beg for forgiveness from you. In one moment of anger, I almost destroyed everything that was important in my life. And I almost destroyed yours, too. And by some stroke of luck, I didn't. The punishment that I got was nothing as serious as I expected. As I deserved. So I felt losing a friend after all that wouldn't be any more than I did deserve. I'm sorry. I really am." He was crying, but he didn't look away.
Slowly, Remus climbed out of bed and crossed to him. "Oh, Padfoot. I forgive you." He pulled Sirius into a tight embrace.
"Really?" Sirius whispered.
"As long as you don't put away Padfoot forever." Sirius gave a genuine, relieved smile that brought some of the life back to his face.
"You should have seen him, Moony!" he said, helping Remus back to the bed.
"Who?"
"Peter! He tried to stop me, first with words, then bodily. When that didn't work, he tried to stop Snape. I didn't know he had it in him." Remus laughed, something he thought he'd never do again.—
An owl rapped on the window, startling Remus out of his reverie. He sat staring for a moment or two, trying to shake himself out of his daze. It isn't time for post, he thought, bewildered.
The tapping grew more impatient, and Remus opened the window to let the owl inside. It dropped its letter on the sill and flew off. Remus picked up the letter and read the name on the front.
Moony. He froze. He knew that handwriting. Even though he hadn't seen it for fifteen years, he knew that handwriting. Hands shaking, he opened the letter, sat down, and began to read.
Remus,
Please read this letter. You have no reason to trust me, no reason to believe what I say, but please read. Please listen. There are things I must tell you, things you must know, whether you choose to believe them or not.
James once told me that he was proud to be my friend because there was nothing I wouldn't do to keep my friends safe. He said I'd do things I'd regret. He said I'd do things he'd regret, but that none of it mattered. If he'd known, would he still have said those things?
I was trying to keep you safe, Remus. I was. I don't know if you'll believe that, but I swear it's the truth. I want you to know why. I want you to know how this happened.
They came for me, Remus. They'd been pressuring me for a while, but they finally took me straight to him. It was just after Harry was born. He gave me a choice. He said I could defy him or join him. He promised that if I defied him, he would destroy everyone I cared about, but that if I joined him, they would be kept safe. This was before we knew of his lies, his treachery. I was foolish to believe him, to believe what he said, yes, but I was scared, Remus. I was scared for myself, but I was more scared for you. James said there was nothing I wouldn't do to keep my friends safe. Even joining the Dark Side.
If there was any possible way I could go back and change that moment, I would. I never dreamt for an instant that things would go this far. I begged James and Lily not to make me their Secret-Keeper. I knew what that would mean. I begged them. I told them I couldn't be trusted. I wanted to tell them everything, but when I tried, I couldn't speak.
He forced it out of me, Remus. He saw through my lies and forced out what I was determined to keep silent. I'm not making excuses for myself, I'm just telling the truth. I was given orders to kill Sirius and a weapon to do the job. That was my task, Remus. To kill Sirius. I couldn't. The guilt of what I'd already done to James and Lily was hard enough to bear. The Pact we made still held for me, and I couldn't break it again. So I pointed his weapon in the opposite direction. It blew the street apart and took my finger with it, but didn't kill Sirius.
You asked why an innocent man would remain disguised as a rat for twelve years. No, I wasn't innocent. But I wasn't hiding from anyone but myself. I simply could not bear the guilt in human form. That's why I remained a rat. Because as a rat, with a rat's emotions, that was the only way I could live with myself. I wanted to kill myself, to answer for all I'd done with the higher orders, to answer for it with James. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was too afraid.
You should ask why I didn't tell you all this three years ago. I was scared. Seeing what had happened to Sirius, what had happened to you, knowing it was my doing, I knew I wouldn't get a chance to explain. I knew you wouldn't believe me. And rightly so. My attempt to keep you safe had failed in the worst way possible. I was desperate; I was scared. I've found out that I am most dangerous when I am scared.
He found me, Remus. He found me. I did not seek him out. And I tried to leave. I couldn't. Maybe a stronger person could have, but I was never strong. Just strong enough to know my limitations. But when he returned last May, fuming about his defeat at the hands of Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter yet again, he claimed the only good that came out of all his carefully laid plans was the death of Sirius Black. It was then I made up my mind to end this, any way I could.
I'm tired of living this life. I'm tired of being a coward and I'm tired of being a rat. My biggest fear, the fear I held since fifth year, came true. I lived up to my Animagus form. I became the Rat, in the worst way. I told James my fear, and he said it didn't matter. I asked him, "What if I fail?" He just shrugged and said "Oh, well." I failed, Remus, and it did matter, and no one is saying "Oh, well," now. I cannot fix what I've done. I can't come close. But I will do what I can. No matter how small it may be.
I am not Secret-Keeper for Him. I cannot tell you his plan. But I can tell you that it hinges on the letter I am supposed to be writing now. It is a letter that must be sent at an exact moment, to an exact person, or the plan will fail. Instead, I am sending this letter to you, explaining the pain Harry will undoubtably feel once He realizes what I have done and kills me for it. He does not expect me to sway again. He does not know I am no longer compliant.
You have no reason to trust me, to believe that this isn't a trick. No reason but this. I'm telling you it's not. And maybe that's not good enough, but it's all I have. I'm doing what I can, and I'm doing it the only way I know how. I won't be his slave any longer. I won't hurt the people I love anymore. I've had enough. I've done enough.
Harry and I have a bond, from when he saved my life three years ago. He will know. And you will know why. The time capsule waits to be opened. It's yours now. Please remember me. Not what I have become, but what I used to be. Before I made the worst mistake of my life. Remember Sirius and remember James and remember the Marauders and what that title stood for. I am sorry I destroyed that.
I know this doesn't begin to make up for anything I've done, and I am so desperately sorry for everything I've put you all through. I don't ask for your forgiveness, or any forgiveness at all. I ask only that you try to understand why. Please.
Peter
Remus sat staring at the piece of paper for a long time. He couldn't believe it. Maybe it was a hoax, but . . . it sounded so like the Peter he used to know that he just wasn't sure. He had thought he would hate Peter forever, but now . . . now, without being conscious of his choice, he had forgiven Peter.
Please remember me. Not as I am now, but as I used to be. Before I made the worst mistake of my life. Remember Sirius and remember James and remember the Marauders and what that title stood for. I am sorry I destroyed that. The tears came, splashing onto the letter in his hands that was already marked with tear-stains of another. Remember the Marauders.
He did.
End of part one. Like it so far? Review, por favor!