Wormtail's Betrayal

"Wormtail?" Sirius spoke quietly, his voice like a child's, cracking with disappointment and bleeding with confusion. He cast a spell that Peter had never seen before.

With that, everything around them seemed to move in slow motion. The chirping of birds was drawn out and distorted. The rustling leaves started to sway into a slow, constant rhythm.

"What did you do?" Peter muttered nervously, wringing his hands.

"Something James and I were working on together. Thought it might help if Volde-I want a word with you Pettigrew. You better tell me that this is some elaborate prank, or Merlin help me, I will kill you with my bare hands."

"Aren't you going to call the Aurors?" Peter looked around himself as if he expected an Auror to jump out at any moment and haul him away to Azkaban.

"Maybe, depends on what you say. I'm giving you a chance, Pettigrew, but this is your last one."

"Oh thank you Padfoot, thank you, thank you!" Wormtail cried.

"This little facade of yours disgusts me, Pettigrew. You may have been able to trick James with it, but you won't fool me. I know that 'anxious little Wormtail' wouldn't have been able to pull something like this off. So cut the crap and tell me what in the bloody hell is going on."

"I killed these muggles," Peter cast a preemptive shield charm. "and I killed the Potters." This was when Sirius cast a hex, but it merely bounced off the charm. The charm Peter had cast was supposed to send any curses or hexes that hit it back at the wizard who cast it. That didn't happen, but then, Peter's magic was always a little wonky. "And you know what, Black? I don't regret it one bit." Pettigrew was no longer trembling, and seemed to be gaining some confidence now.

Sirius didn't take the bait. He just kept listening to Peter, with a blazing gaze, wand drawn but no spells thrown. Peter took this as encouragement and continued, "I joined the Dark Lord as soon as I realized the Order would fail. You see, Black, I don't trust Dumbledore. The way that he speaks in riddles. I prefer when people just say what they mean. So, tell me what you mean by this: why didn't you question my identity? Why didn't you wonder if I was simply a Death Eater, posing as your beloved friend? How did you know it was 'wee little Peter Pettigrew'? Just didn't think about it too much? No, you thought about it, Black. You question things. No, no, no, no." He repeated this word under his breath a few times before continuing, "No, you knew it was me because deep down you knew that I could pull it off. You didn't coddle me all the way through Hogwarts like Lily, and James, and Remus did."

At the sound of his best friend's names coming from the man he so despised, Sirius' grip on his wand tightened. Peter didn't seem to notice, because now, he was completely enveloped in what he was saying. "You knew that I was capable of more than being James' pet rat."

"And now you're Voldemort's pet rat, Pettigrew. Same as you always were, couldn't do anything for yourself, had to be bossed around by someone bigger and better and stronger. Because you know what Peter? You will always be a filthy, little rat." Peter squeaked at this. He was practically a rat already. Sirius thought.

Black hated him. It was blinding how much he despised this rodent that he used to call his friend, who he used to consider his little brother. If he was under different circumstances he might have considered the squeaking funny or even charming, in the way that a puppy or a small child is charming. But now, he felt nothing but pure disgust.

He asked the question that he really did not want to know the answer to. "Why James? James, who finished all of your essays, and convinced Hufflepuffs to go to Hogsmeade with you. James, who never once made fun of you, even when I thought you were a right dunce. Why him?"

"I realized, I didn't need him anymore." Peter hissed. "James was weak, and the Dark Lord is strong. And with the Dark Lord's tutelage, I finally did something on my own. It's ironic, really, if James were here he'd probably slap me on the back and tell me how proud he was."

"Why not me, Peter? Why not kill me? I never helped you in school, and it wasn't because I thought you didn't need it, I can assure you of that."

"Oh, Black, I knew one day I wouldn't be the most naive Marauder. Surely you don't think death is the worst punishment?" Sirius stared at him. "I might have killed James, but I have something much, much worse planned for you."

With that, Pettigrew held up his arm, and cast a curse on himself that sliced his smallest finger off, turned into a rat, and ran into a sewage drain.

Time quickened to its normal pace, and Black stared at the spot where the rat had just been, laughing. Just laughing, because how hadn't he predicted this? How could he have assumed the traitor was anyone else?