Fateful night
Her gaze rested on the clock above the kitchen table. The pointer crawled on. Tick, tock, tick, tock. She drummed her fingers on the waxed tablecloth. He should have been here by now. The darkness outside pressed against the window panes. Black, threatening. Before, she had never been afraid of the dark. Before, when the world was still fine. Before, when nobody tried to kill them. Again her gaze wandered to the wall clock. She'd been sitting there for over an hour, staring at the dark dials on the brown-beige background. Frozen with fear. What if it happened this time? What if he didn't come back?
She winced violently at the click of the door lock. She jumped up immediately, she heard the kitchen chair stumble behind her, but she hurried on into the dark, narrow hallway towards the front door. "Sirius?" She whispered when she recognized his dark silhouette, which immediately closed the door behind her. "I'm here," he replied. He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead as he passed and continued to walk into the kitchen.
“What was going on?” She had followed him into the kitchen, stopped in the doorway, as if she wanted to keep the horror that emanated from him at a distance. Because something had happened. Something was wrong. She could see that. She had known him long enough now. She could read the straightened shoulders, the fine lines on the bridge of his nose, and the thin lips for what they were. Signs of danger. Sign that something was wrong.
Sirius snorted. He took a glass from the kitchen cupboard, filled it with water from the crane, and drank in large gulps. She looked at him spellbound, watching every movement as if she could read from it what had happened. Which she didn't even dare to think. Sirius brushed his hair back from his forehead. He looked tired. "Peter didn't come," he replied curtly. Then he pushed past her and she heard his quick steps on the stairs to the upper floor.
She couldn't move from fright. Peter? Involuntarily the face of the small, amiable man appeared before her inner eye. She knew he was always scared. She knew that it was so difficult for him to suppress that fear. And yet he had done it, he had managed to muster up the courage day after day and keep fighting. At the side of his friends. And now? What would they do to him? What had they already done to him? He had never been a great wizard. It was so much harder for him to fight back. She felt her knees tremble at the thought of maybe never seeing Peter again. She swallowed hard and dry a few times to get rid of the lump in her throat. But he didn't seem to move. Seemed to take her breath off.
On shaky legs, she followed Sirius up the stairs. She found him in the bedroom. He looked unnaturally pale in the glaring light from the ceiling lamp. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, a small pocket mirror in hand, and he called out the name of his best friend.There was no answer. "James Potter! Damn it, can you hear me?" Panic crossed his voice. With one jump he jumped up and flung the mirror behind him. It bounced off the bedspread, did a half somersault, and landed again, mirror face down.
She took a few steps towards him and put a hand on his back. She felt his muscles tighten, tighten. "Poor Peter," she whispered. Sirius twisted his hand from her hand and took two long steps towards the door. "Poor?" He hissed. Anger sparkled in his eyes. “The bastard betrayed her!” He stormed out of the room. "He betrayed us all!"
She stared blankly at the empty spot where Sirius had just been standing. Did Peter betray her? The words echoed through her head. As if the sense did not want to penetrate to her mind. Or did she not want to let him in? He had betrayed her! Slowly the pieces of the puzzle found their place in the chaos in her head. It wasn't Peter Sirius was worried about. No, the concern was with another friend. Sirius best friend.
She gasped for air. Her thoughts raced over, fed her mind with horrific excesses. She saw James Potter, his wife Lily, and their young son. They were terrible pictures. Images that couldn't be true. Not allowed to be true!
Her feet started moving, automatically carrying her down the stairs. But how? it shot through her head. How could he have done that? They had taken all possible security precautions. Even, and she was one of the few who knew, cast a Fidelius spell. Nobody could get to them unless Sirius told them where they were hiding. She hadn't seen the Potters herself since.
She had arrived in the living room. Sirius knelt in front of the small, plain fireplace. A delicate pot of fine powder stood on his right. In front of him, an emerald green fire crackled on the empty grate. "Come on, come on!" He muttered, throwing his head into the fire with all his might, but bounced back as if he'd hit a massive wall and landed on his back on the floor.
"It was a ruse!" She whispered. Her hands clawed into the door frame, seeking support. Sirius, still lying on the floor, turned his head and looked at her, only very briefly, then straightened up and said simply: "Yes." "And you didn't tell me anything." She looked at him, looking for his Look, but he stopped looking at her. "We didn't say anything to anyone, not even Remus!" He replied angrily. Not even Remus! The words hit her like lashes. Wasn't she more important? Wasn't she his first? Didn't he trust her completely? With an effort she swallowed the stale feeling in her mouth. There was no point in talking about such a thing now. There were more pressing things. “You can't reach her?” She took a step towards Sirius. He shook his head.Again he ran his hands through his hair. "He doesn't answer the Patronus, he doesn't appear in the mirror, you saw what happened by the fireplace." A desperate expression appeared on his face. "On the way here I even tried to talk to him over a red house with a phone!". Had the situation not been so serious, she would probably have laughed at the idea. But the situation was no laughing matter. She knew what that could mean.
Sirius's features hardened. “I will fly there!” “No!”. She grabbed his arm. "If he's still there. Sirius, there is nothing you can do then. You have to stay here, here, with me!" Words, so many words that she really didn't want to say. But they found their way before she could stop them. "You have to stay calm. It's more important-" "Nothing!" He had freed himself from her grip with a jerk and glared at her with angry, uncomprehending eyes. "Nothing is more important than James' life! You hear, nothing!" He stormed past her out of the room, out of the house. She heard the roar of the engine as Sirius started his motorcycle and flew away.
She staggered into the kitchen, avoiding the fallen chair, and rushed to the window. She stared outside, following the spot with her eyes that was quickly lost in the darkness. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks, gathered on her chin and dripped onto the clean, shiny sideboard. Nothing is more important, he had said. You don't care about me, it pounded in her head. We are not important.
She heard the kitchen clock ticking. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Monotonous, uniform. The ticking was unimportant. It didn't matter anymore. There was nothing left to wait for. No one left to come home.