Disclaimer: I'm too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…
Placing: Throughout the story and at the time of the Marauders.
Just an idea I had, nothing more.
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PETER'S CHOICE
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"Tell me, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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Today was the day.
The day he had lied for, the day he had internally died for.
The final day.
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Since he had been born, he had always known that some things couldn't be changed.
That didn't mean that he didn't try to do it anyway.
"Don't go out today, father! Please stay home with me!"
"Son –"
"Please, father, stay!"
"Alright, son, just today."
And the cave carved down without the father in it. His co-workers got hurt, but the father didn't die.
"Eric, would you go to the supermarket to buy some more carrots for dinner? Since you're home, you can go and we don't have to go without."
"I'll be back in ten, son. Don't worry 'bout me."
The robber's shot killed the father anyway.
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When he had been a little boy, he had tried to rescue the life of his father just for the man to die in another way – a way that he hadn't been able to prevent in time.
Over the years, he learned about the limits and the tolerances of his ability. Some things could be changed and nothing would happen; some things couldn't be changed whatever you tried to do – and some things shouldn't be changed because the consequences would be worse than the actual happenings. Sometimes he was happy with the changes he managed to do; sometimes he was unhappy with his inability to do something – and sometimes he had to pick the worst of all possibilities just to ensure that in the end the positive effects outweighed the negative ones.
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Today was the day his life had led to for years now.
The day his life would be sacrificed for the one thing he saw as more important than anything else.
The ultimate end of every part of his life.
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When he had come to school, he had long since learned that his ability had negative effects as much as positive ones. He had long since learned to accept that.
Like he had long since accepted that nobody could ever know about his ability. The chess-players - one Light Lord, one Dark Lord - would have destroyed the world just by wishing to rule over him.
And yet, when he finally met the other three boys he had Seen in his dreams for years, it was like a punch in the gut.
Here they were, young, innocent and oh so stupid.
And for a moment, he wished that he simply could turn around and walk away, while acting as if he had never seen them in the first place.
But if he did that, he would damn himself to loneliness and two of them to death before they could even get their OWL's.
So he squared his shoulders and held out his hand.
"Hi," he said. "How do you do?"
One of the boys smiled at him at that and took his hand.
"Hello," he answered. "I'm James Potter. And who are you?"
And with their hands meeting the four of them would forge a friendship that would last for forever – or until the day one of them betrayed the rest of them without remorse.
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"Tell me James, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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Today was the last day, and now that it had come, he wished it would have never had to happen. But there was no way of stopping it. And he had tried – oh, how had he tried!
He had tried to subtle shift their interactions so that they were more acquaintances than friends – and they had fallen in battles one by one.
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"Please, Sirius, James! That's suicide!"
"Don't worry 'bout us, mate. Remus'll keep us safe."
Three coffins were lowered in the earth half a week later.
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He had tried to shield them by giving Dumbledore the power to help them and keep them safe – and their house had been raided because one slip of paper had been forgotten at another Order member's house.
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"Give this slip to Remus. He hasn't seen it yet, will you?"
"Sure thing, Headmaster. I'll burn it as soon as Moony has seen it."
"Take care to never forget it anywhere, Sirius."
"Won't, Headmaster. And even if I did, the Prewetts would look after it for me until I could come for it."
That night Gideon and Fabian died in the raid of their home, and whatever he did, he couldn't remind Sirius or someone else of the slip before it was far too late…
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He had not done anything but what he was supposed to do – and the world had burned.
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"Do you truly think you can stand in my way, rat? You're not strong enough!"
"I don't need to be strong. I have just to refuse to talk."
"Your ministry has fallen, the Muggles are all dead. Your friends are dead – and yet you still stand before me, trying to keep me from my price."
He said nothing, defiance in his eyes.
"Well, it won't matter. It's only hours until the rest of the world is mine as well. I won't have to fear anything after that ever again."
An hour later the first of the eternal flames licked on the world's surface.
Another hour later, the world was burning.
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"Tell me, Lily, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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He had tried everything he could think of and then some more, but the results had always been unacceptable for him: either his friends had died one by one or the world had burned and taken them all with it.
There was no solution but the one he abhorred.
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Long before the pranks of his friends had gotten out of hand, long before they actually started their merciless bullying of certain people, just a few days after the welcoming feast, he confronted one of the key-players for the coming years.
He was a fair child, a tortured child – tortured with knowledge yet to come – so he thought it just fair, from one tortured soul to another to at least give them a way to choose their own destiny – or at least choose it as far as they could with the rules that existed for someone Sighted like him.
"Tell me," he said. "If you had to choose: your life or Lily's – which one would you choose?"
The frown on the other boy's face darkened at that.
"What do you mean?" The boy asked, but he refused to say anything further.
"Just answer," he said, admonishing the boy.
The frown didn't lessen, but the boy answered anyway.
"Lily's," the boy said, damning himself. "Always Lily's. Why do you ask, Gryffindork?"
But he simply turned and walked away without explaining further.
When the pranks and the bullying of Severus Snape started, he sat by and watched.
"Lily's," Snape had said – and he would honour the other boy's request, if the boy knew about it or not.
There had been two ways to go: either Lily would have been Snape's friend throughout school, the Marauders not harassing him in any way or form until he was nearly part of them thanks to James' and Lily's blooming relationship in fifth year. She would have lost her life shortly after school that year.
Or Snape would lose his soul and best friend, but Lily would at least live her life to the fullest. It wasn't his choice to make – so he had gone to the one who could choose and asked him, and Snape had chosen.
He would not look at the bullied boy in regret – not even when Sirius finally nearly went too far in their fifth year. He had seen it. He could have stopped it. But Snape had made his choice, and he would have never not honoured that decision.
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For years, he had worked for that day, that one day – the day that would throw the world back, away from the abyss, while at the same time giving him the last push so that he would fall where the world would have fallen before.
People always talked of regret and guilt.
He couldn't regret his decision – even if he would have to live with his guilt for the rest of his life.
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Years had gone by, his decision had remained.
There had never been a choice for him.
His way was long; his way was dark; it was lonely and led into the depth of hell – and yet he prevailed, refusing to give up and chose an easier way. He could have taken it, but at the end of it there would have been the world up in flames.
"You betrayed my parents. You're the reason they're dead!"
Accusations, fury and hurt.
"No, Harry. Someone did betray your parents, but it was somebody who, until quite recently, I believed to be dead!"
The answer was right, so right – and wrong at the same time.
Was it betrayal if you did what was right instead what was easy?
Was it betrayal if your actions were meant to safe and not to destroy?
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"Tell me James," he said pale and tired, shaking with fear. "If you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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"You betrayed my parents. You're the reason they're dead!"
"No, Harry. Someone did betray your parents, but it was somebody who, until quite recently, I believed to be dead!"
"Who was it then?"
"Peter Pettigrew!"
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"Tell me, Lily, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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Was it betrayal, if you did the uttermost to follow your best friends' wishes?
"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort, didn't you?"
What was the lie? What was the truth?
Was it selling if you had no choice? If it was this, or the destruction of everything, including the one thing you wanted to protect the most?
"I didn't mean to! The Dark Lord… you've no idea of the weapons he possesses!"
Weapons.
What a lie!
It weren't weapons he feared. It was something worse, something unthinkable: the destruction of the one thing that had been more important to all of them than even their lives.
But there was no way to explain if he wanted to reach his goal in the end.
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"Tell me James, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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Accusations.
Hurt.
Betrayal.
And no way to apologise, not after he had done what he had to do to fulfil the one wish he had heard in his dreams since he was born:
Don't you dare to let him die.
There was just one way to admit his guilt, his decision. He had to mislead to hide the truth.
"You don't understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!"
As if his death would have mattered to him.
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAYED YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"
As he would have done for them – if that would have saved them in the end.
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"Tell me, Lily, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
"Choose what?"
"Your life or your child's – which one would you choose if you had to?"
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"Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed! Your dad… your dad he would have spared me. He would have shown me mercy!"
Not mercy, never mercy – but James would have understood.
He would have understood and accepted his fate if it meant that the one thing he wanted to protect would be safe – and Lily would have done the same without a second question.
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"Tell me James," he said pale and tired, shaking with fear. "If you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
Sadly he never had to ask that question – he had known the answer all along.
So he had decided their fate.
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He didn't dare to look into the child's eyes when he saw it the first time in his human form.
He begged with it, touched it, but he couldn't truly look at it and seeing the accusation he had and hadn't earned.
"Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed! Your dad… your dad he would have spared me. He would have shown me mercy!"
He didn't dare to look at the child when he was confronted with it on the graveyard.
He simply took its blood and then his own hand to resurrect the monster he wished to destroy.
When he saw the child next, it was in Malfoy's cell.
He smiled when his own silver hand closed around his throat and strangled him.
It had been his decision – and the last thing he Saw was the child living far beyond the next century.
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"Tell me James," he said pale and tired, shaking with fear. "Tell me, Lily, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
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"Lily, take Harry and run! He is it! Hurry! I'll stop him –"
Footsteps on the stairs.
A panicky red-head in a nursery.
"Don't forget, mummy loves you, daddy loves you!"
The door was blasted open.
She let go of her son and turned to face her soon-to-be murderer.
His red eyes were looking at her with hatred.
"Stand aside, girl," he hissed. "Stand aside and I won't kill you!"
Today was the day.
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"Tell me," he said. "If you had to choose: your life or Lily's – which one would you choose?"
"Lily's," the boy said, damning himself. "Always Lily's. Why do you ask, Gryffindork?"
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The day he had lied for, the day he had internally died for.
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"Tell me, Lily, if you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you?"
"Choose what?"
"Your life or your child's – which one would you choose if you had to?"
"My child's. Always my child's," she answered without hesitation.
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The final day.
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"Tell me James," he said pale and tired, shaking with fear, just minutes before he had his final audience with the Dark Lord for the next thirteen years. "If you had me choose, what would you want me to choose for you? Would you prefer your death to Harry's? Would you prefer to die if it means to save the world for your child?"
Sadly he never had to ask that question – he truly didn't have to.
He had known the answer all along.
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Today was the day they would die.
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please! I'll do everything!"
But there would be no mercy – and he had known that long before he damned them with their choosing.
It had been their decision. He was just a tool of fate, here to decide for the world or for his friends.
He couldn't choose his friends.
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"I returned," he reminded the Dark Lord.
The man stared at him with narrowed eyes.
"Out of fear. Not loyalty."
Not loyalty?
Loyalty to Peter had always meant something different than to everybody else.
But except for him and the dead, no one would ever understand…
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"Avada Kedavra!"
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Well, that's it. Not sure how that turned out, but I couldn't get rid of that story since I wrote "Lily's choice" and "Severus' Choice", so here it is.
Hope you liked it.
Ebenbild