A Single Moment

Ron pulled the door open a bit and peered around it. “Harry?”

“Hi Ron, can we come in?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Ron said, and stepped aside to let Harry and Ginny through, shutting the door behind them. Hermione was sitting propped up against the headboard of her bed with one of the enormous ledgers from the Black vaults laid across her lap. She looked up in surprise at Harry and Ginny. “We haven’t found anything yet,” she said quickly. “The handwriting in these is miniscule, look…”

Harry went and looked down at the page Hermione was reading. Sure enough, the handwriting was tiny and almost impossible to read. “How many entries are there per page?” he asked.

“Anywhere from twenty-five or thirty up to almost one hundred,” Hermione said ruefully. “Your estimate of how many items are listed was fairly accurate, Harry. We’ve managed to determine that those six books-” she pointed at a pair of the ledgers on a shelf across the room. “-aren’t going to be from the right time period. But at least a part from each of the other three books are.”

Harry groaned as Ron sat at the foot of the bed and reached for the ledger he’d been trying to decipher. “What fun,” Ginny said ironically.

“Well actually, it is rather fascinating,” Hermione said. She looked up when no one answered and flushed slightly at the looks the other three were giving her. “It is! Harry, there are magical artifacts in your vaults that are centuries old; some of them probably haven’t been used or even brought out from the vaults in all that time!”

Harry shrugged. “So?”

Hermione frowned. “Well I happen to find it intriguing,” she said huffily. “I found a four-hundred-year-old dollhouse enchanted so that the little dolls moved around like real people at home. I wonder who it belonged to, or if anyone even remembers they existed? These vaults are like a physical history of the Black family dating back tens of generations!”

Harry considered that. “Do- d’you think there might be some of Sirius’ things in there? I know he had his own vault, but he was disowned, so maybe he never got to take his childhood things with him…?”

“It’s possible,” Hermione agreed hesitantly. “Would- would you like us to look?”

Harry shook himself. “No. At least, not now. Maybe later, when we an spare the time. Anyway, the ledgers aren’t why we came up.” He pulled a vial from his pocket, and Ginny brought out two more. “These are some more of Snape’s memories,” he said.

Hermione and Ron sat up attentively. “Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “What’d you have to do to him to get them?”

Hermione frowned at Ron. “We didn’t get them, Pansy did,” Ginny told them. “We left her alone with him – I guess she acted all Slytherin at him or something. Who cares?”

“I do,” Harry said, surprising them. “It makes me nervous. Oh, I don’t think Pansy will betray us,” he said quickly at Hermione’s and Ginny’s scowls. “But all the Slytherin double-talking really irritates me.”

“At least Pansy isn’t like that with us,” Hermione pointed out. “Well, most of the time.”

“Yeah.” Harry shrugged. “Well, Pansy told Snape we were looking for any Death Eaters we could blackmail or bribe,” Harry said. “Snape gave her these for us to see, but he didn’t say what they are.”

“He did tell Pansy that we’d never believe it about this person, whoever it is,” Ginny added.

Hermione looked alarmed. “You don’t think he’s given us memories of Lucius Malfoy, do you?”

“No, he knows Malfoy is dead, there’d be no point,” Harry said. “He doesn’t know about Bellatrix, but she doesn’t seem likely…” He pulled the basin he’d been using as a Pensieve out of his other pocket, where it’d been shrunk to fit. A quick Charm and it was full-sized again. “Shall we have a look?”

Ginny took the first bottle, which Pansy had labeled with a 1, and upended it over the basin. The memory swirled around inside, a dark, thick mist. Harry placed the tip of his wand in the Pensieve and chanted “Memorius Displicare.”

An image rose out of the mist, forming several figures, but even before they took solid form an oily, timid voice murmured “My Lord…”

Hermione gasped. “Is that-?”

“This conversation is not for your ears, Wormtail,” Voldemort’s voice oozed as a figure, rapidly gaining definition, rose from a chair.

“Apologies, my Lord,” Snape’s voice responded. “Pettigrew has been unwilling to remain hidden as instructed.”

The scene solidified; Voldemort stood in a chair by a fire in a small, sparsely furnished living room. Snape knelt before him, his bearing subservient but proud. And Wormtail was hesitantly making his way toward them from a set of stairs that appeared to have been hidden behind a bookshelf only a moment before. “Where is this?” Ron asked, but was shh-ed by Hermione and Ginny.

“That is not true, my Lord,” Peter replied to Snape’s accusation hastily. “I would never question your orders! I only wish to do my part, to serve you.”

“How truly honorable of you,” Voldemort said with a hint of a sneer. “You are not satisfied, then, with hiding away here with Snape?”

“I- I can be useful, Lord,” Pettigrew said, dropping to his knees in front of Voldemort.

“Indeed, and you proved it so a year ago when you aided me in returning in this form,” Voldemort responded, tapping his lip musingly. “Yet why now, Wormtail? Why after a year in which you never stepped forward do you suddenly wish to serve me better?” Wormtail said nothing, and Voldemort’s expression grew darker. “Have you ulterior motives, Peter? Have you chosen to turn spy for the old man and the Ministry?”

“No!” Peter squawked, his eyes bulging in fear. “Never, Lord, I would never betray you! My wand is yours forever, I swear it!”

“Oaths from your lips mean nothing,” Snape sneered, looking at Peter as though he were a particularly disgusting insect.

“Hush now, Severus,” Voldemort reprimanded gently, waving Snape aside; Snape rose and stepped back. “Dear Peter has no judgments on his loyalty yet.” He smiled slightly, and drew his wand, pointing it at the terrified Peter. “I would hate to think you were anything but dedicated to my service, Wormtail. So rather than allowing such speculation…Legilimens!”

Peter went rigid as the Spell took him, and Voldemort stood completely still, closing his eyes to concentrate. Snape watched impassively, although his eyes were fixed on Voldemort’s face. After an extremely tense thirty seconds, Voldemort’s eyes snapped open. With a snarl he twitched his wand, releasing Peter from the Spell, and without hesitation shouted “Crucio!”

Peter screamed and collapsed onto his stomach, thrashing wildly; Snape leapt back to avoid Peter’s flailing arm, staring in shock. “My Lord?”

Voldemort didn’t acknowledge Snape, staring furiously down at Peter; he showed no signs of letting up on the Cruciatus Curse. “This is horrible,” Ginny said after almost a minute had passed. “Can’t we- skip forward or something?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Hermione answered; her voice was slightly shaky. “We have to wait if we want to see the end…”

Ron didn’t say anything, but was the only one whose eyes weren’t on Voldemort and Pettigrew; he was watching Harry’s expression, and he didn’t like the look of intense satisfaction he saw there.

Finally Voldemort lifted his wand. The sudden quiet when Peter stopped screaming was startling. “Wormtail,” Voldemort murmured, prodding the still-spasming Peter with a foot, “after such a long time together, you disappoint me so.”

“My Lord,” Snape began, “might I ask-?” but he cut himself off when Voldemort raised a hand.

“Little Peter, Severus, questions my judgment,” Voldemort announced calmly, stepping over Pettigrew to reclaim his glass of wine from the table. He contemplated Peter as he sipped at the dark burgundy liquid. “Peter, he said finally, “believes I should spare Potter.”

Hermione and Ginny gasped, and Ron let slip a small yelp of shock. Harry simply stared in utter disbelief. Snape also seemed completely skeptical. “Spare Potter?” he scoffed, sneering down at Peter. “Surely even you can’t be that dimwitted, Wormtail…”

“No Severus, it’s quite true,” Voldemort said smoothly, still toying with his now-empty glass. “Which begs the question; why? Peter, you’d already given me Harry before – sold me his parents, your dearest friends, for your touch of power. Or didn’t you give them to me at all?” he asked contemplatively, gazing at the ceiling. “Did you sacrifice your friends to be rid of me, Peter? Did you know I would meet my fate in Godric’s Hollow that night?”

“No!” Peter gasped, fighting against his body which still didn’t want to behave after Voldemort’s punishment. “I didn’t know, Master, how could I have, I would never-”

“Enough, Wormtail, you have not the courage to have sent me to my end,” Voldemort scoffed. “So tell me why, now. Tell me why you believe I should let the Potter boy live.”

“I- I-” Peter still looked like the rat he’d spent twelve years impersonating, and now he looked cornered. “I m-merely thought,” he said hesitantly, “that Potter alive and serving you, Master, would be more valuable than Potter dead?”

“That is utterly brilliant, Wormtail,” Voldemort said earnestly, leaning down until his face was mere inches from Peter’s. “Then you will pop out to find Potter and invite him along?” Snape’s sneer grew more pronounced as Voldemort turned suddenly and walked across the room. “Potter would never serve me, Wormtail,” Voldemort said lightly, striding for the door. “It’s a foolish thought; he is too much Dumbledore’s man. Severus, you have your instructions.”

“Yes, Lord,” Snape confirmed, bowing.

“But for now,” Voldemort said finally as he swept out, “perhaps no more than a minute or two, here and there, for the remainder of the day.”

Peter looked up fearfully at Snape as the pop of Apparition signaled Voldemort’s departure. “Severus…please…!”

“The Dark Lord commands, and I obey, Wormtail,” Snape hissed, drawing his wand. “It is a lesson he intends you to relearn.” He raised his wand. “Crucio!”

The memory faded away and fell back into the Pensieve, but the last screams from Pettigrew echoed for a moment longer before disappearing. The four fiends sat staring at the bowl, and each other, unable to voice their utter shock. “It- it had to be faked,” Harry muttered finally. “Snape made a false memory.”

“Harry…” Hermione said hesitantly, “That’s not possible, you said so yourself. Memories can be covered or removed, and false ones can be created, but-if viewed through a Pensieve, they’re obviously different. We’d have known if it was fake.”

“It had to be,” Harry insisted stubbornly. “I’d bet anything Voldemort could do it. Wormtail would never stick his neck out to save me.”

“Well, he was only saying it because he thinks you should join Voldemort,” Ron pointed out.

“Oh Ron, couldn’t you tell he was just making that up?” Ginny asked hotly. “Wormtail wasn’t serious about Harry switching sides, he knows Harry never would; he only said that to try to explain away his wanting Harry spared.”

“He doesn’t want me spared!” Harry snapped. “That bastard doesn’t have a decent bone in his body!”

A ringing silence followed Harry’s outburst. “Harry,” Hermione said quietly, “you can’t ignore the truth when it’s right in front of you. Maybe Pettigrew has ulterior motives, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t want you killed.”

“I think we should watch the other two memories,” Ginny said quickly as Harry glared at Hermione. “We can see if similar things happened.”

Harry hesitated, but finally nodded reluctantly. “All right, fine,” He muttered. “But don’t expect me to believe Wormtail’s anything but a traitorous coward.”

The second and third memories were similar to the first; in each, Voldemort seemed increasingly angry at Wormtail’s persistence. Each time, Pettigrew got Crucioed; after the final time, Voldemort threatened him with the loss of his silver hand should his attitude not change. When the final image faded away, Ginny, Hermione and Ron all looked to Harry, who was still staring angrily at the mist swirling in the Pensieve. “Harry,” Ginny said softly, “one time we could have dismissed; but three times, we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen. Pettigrew-”

“Fine!” Harry snapped. “So it happened! So what? It doesn’t mean anything! Wormtail’s still a traitor, he still betrayed my parents to Voldemort! He hasn’t done anything to help stop Voldemort, has he? Him feeling guilty now is too little, too late! He still can’t be trusted!”

“I don’t think anyone here was going to suggest trying to recruit Pettigrew to our side, mate,” Ron said with a frown.

“Of course not,” Hermione agreed. “But I do think we should keep our options open.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry demanded.

“I mean, we should remain aware that Wormtail might hesitate to act against us in the right circumstances,” Hermione said. “It might provide us with a window of opportunity.”

“Opportunity to do what?” Ron asked skeptically.

“To Stupefy him and then question him under Veritaserum, for one,” Ginny suggested pointedly. “And if we have the time and the means, we could place a geas on him like we did on Pansy, and then Obliviate him. He could turn into a spy for us – albeit against his will.” Hermione gave Ginny a look that made it clear she didn’t like the idea, but she didn’t say anything.

“That’s true of any of the Death Eaters, but yeah, it might be easier to get the drop on Wormtail,” Harry agreed grudgingly. “I wish we’d thought of that when we caught Snape; he would’ve been perfect for it.”

“Harry?” Ron asked tentatively. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Harry said with a grimace. “I just- I want Wormtail. I want him locked up for good, or better yet, Kissed by a Dementor. It’s no more than the bastard deserves.”

“Harry!” Hermione gasped. “You can’t-”

“Don’t, Hermione,” Ginny said. “Harry’s got every right to hate Wormtail, and want revenge.” She turned to Harry. “But you have to remember that there are more important things than revenge right now, right?”

Harry gritted his teeth. “Yeah, all right,” he said finally. “You’re right; but I don’t have to like it.”

“Of course not,” Ginny said.

“Erm…so what should we do about this?” Hermione asked cautiously. “Obviously we can’t really act on it much…”

“It’s not exactly what we were looking for,” Harry said. “We asked for information about Death Eaters we could blackmail or bribe, but we can’t do that with Wormtail.”

“Do you think Snape was holding out on us?” Ron asked.

“I’d be very surprised if he wasn’t,” Hermione said. “Although it’s possible that Voldemort put constraints on Snape, in case of a situation like this.”

“Pansy did say that Snape mentioned restrictions,” Ginny said. “This might have been all Snape is capable of giving us.”

“We have to figure out a way to get more out of Snape,” Harry growled. “He’s got so much information and we can’t get it!” He sighed. “Do you think that we could have Pansy try to come up with some ideas on how to deal with Snape?”

“I don’t know if she’ll be able to get around Voldemort’s restrictions,” Hermione pointed out, “but of all of the D.A. she’s the most likely to figure something out.”

Ron and Ginny both agreed that the idea has merit, so they decided to ask Pansy to spend some time trying to think up ideas for getting information out of Snape. “Should we do that now?” Ginny asked. “Pansy isn’t assigned anything else right now…”

Harry was about to respond yes when movement caught his eye outside, and he smiled in surprise. “I think we have something else to deal with right now,” he said, gesturing. The others followed his where he indicated; Parvati was coming up the stairs, laughing and joking with Lavender.