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The fire crackled behind Sirius Black, creating a false sense of safety within its flickering warmth. He had a Firewhisky in one hand, the other itching for a cigarette.
“Sirius,” Lily cooed softly, “why don’t you sit down, love?” She adjusted baby Harry to sleep against her other shoulder, rocking and swaying him lightly on her hip. He snuggled warmly to her, sucking on his thumb. “You’re making me even more anxious than I already am.”
“Yeah, mate, take a seat. You’d make us all feel better,” James gestured to the overly large stuffed armchair that Remus, Peter, and Sirius had given them as a gag housewarming gift. James had called it dastardly but here they were a year later and it’s obnoxious red stood out amongst the other softer decour. It was garishly Gryffindor. James’ brows furrowed as if he were trying to solve a difficult puzzle. “You know what I need to ask impossibly of you. But I… I need to ask you.”
“Anything, James. You know that. You’re my brother,” Sirius urged him.
A smile flickered across his mouth but the tense lines were left behind. “You’ll do it then? You’ll be our Secret-Keeper? I know it’s a lot to ask–”
“You’ve never asked anything that I haven’t agreed to which has led to the best times of my life,” Sirius grinned. He held out his hand not clasping the drink for dear life. “Brother,” he offered.
“Brother,” James agreed, finally smiling past his misgivings.
Sirius’ smile fell. “Wait, no…” James looked startled, Lily too. “I’m too obvious,” Sirius explained. “You know I would do anything and everything for you which is why it can’t be me. They’d guess it in a heart beat.” Still clasping hands, Sirius racked his brain for anything, anyone that could replace him. He whipped up suddenly, a brilliant idea having sparked another smile. “Use Peter. Everyone always thinks we just keep him around out of pity anyways. He’d be the last person they would think of.”
James looked to Lily who nodded. He grinned. “Bloody brilliant. I’ll Floo Pete right away.”
¶¶¶
“He’d be the last person they would think of,” Sirius muttered under his breath, a maniac smile as he stared at the still-smoldering garishly Gryffindor armchair, it’s bright, obnoxious red mocking Sirius. They had guessed it was Peter, they had found out their secret, they had killed–. All because Peter would’ve been the last person they would think of as if they, the Marauders - Prongs, Padfoot, Moony - could have been complete without their very own Wormtail.
He felt the laughter bubbling in his stomach, rising and spilling out of his mouth. He gripped his hair at his skull, pulling painfully, laughing loudly. His laughter - wrong, miscoloured, off-key - rang across the ashes, continued to spill out of him as he sunk to his knees, as he was dragged away, as he sunk in the corner of his cell.
Sirius laughed at the irony of it all.
¶¶¶
“Hey! Let me out!” He grasped the rusting bars, shoving his face through. “I didn’t do it!” He rattled the bars. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t– I–”
Frigid isolating cold fell over him as if a dementor were standing before him. “Use Peter.” His own voice echoed mercilessly in his mind, ringing endlessly. The realization was enough to break him more than any dementor could have. He felt himself crumbling, pieces slowly falling to the floor, gathering at his feet. He stumbled from the weight of it all, the weight of what it meant–
“Oh god.” His heart pounded, his eyes watered. “I did it.”
Lily’s sweet face flashed before him, her arms fondly cradling her sleeping Harry, softly kissing his forehead, both of them in complete bliss, ignoring the world on fire around them.
“No,” he begged.
He couldn’t have betrayed that.
“James,” he disbelieved.
He couldn’t have.
The ghost of James’ arm clasping his enclosed around him, James’ eyes filled with laughter, smile beaming gratefully, proudly as he reverently agreed, “Brother”.
“James,” he choked.
He wouldn’t be proud now.
“JAMES!” He sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed until his voice was hoarse.
“Brother,” he apologized.
And with that, he was broken.