last01standing: (bad guys)
[personal profile] last01standing
Title: Downfall
Disclaimer: Not mine
Characters: The Marauders
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of character death, general angsting
Summary: Funny how Voldemort's downfall was the reason the Marauders couldn't hold themselves togeather. One shot.
author's note: Originally posted this December on my fanfiction account. I'd be excited about posting more recent stuff it this I liked the story better...




You didn’t think it was supposed to go this way. You remembered that first train ride when you met them all; Sirius, James and Remus. They weren’t a group yet. They hardly even knew each other. Sirius hated James because his family hated the Potters and James hated Sirius because Sirius hated him. None of you had known Remus. The first train ride, all he was to you was a pale sickly kid who looked around the train with a sense of wonder that you didn’t understand until nearly two years later when you learned his secret.

But that first train ride, you didn’t know any of them. Sirius had been the first to talk to you, polite, slightly stilted conversation that though awkward, had finally put you at ease.

You met James when you tripped over the snack trolley in front of a gaggle of second year girls who laughed mercilessly at you until James came to the rescue. He got you smiling again and you spent the remainder of the ride laughing in his compartment.

Remus wondered in half way through the trip, and by the time you made it to Hogwarts, you had actual friends.

The sorting nearly killed you. You watched Sirius get sorted into Gryffindor despite the stunned look on nearly the entire hall’s faces. Remus followed him into Gryffindor. And when they called, Pettigrew, Peter, you walked up to the hat slowly, knowing that James, right behind you, would surely be placed in Gryffindor like all of his family was and you would rightly be sorted into Hufflepuff.

But the sorting hat saw something different between your ears as you sat in a cold sweat and wondered if the hat was broken. And just when you thought it would never say anything it whispered, “You will be part of something great. You will help bring the darkness down. I know it may not seem right, but you belong in GRYFFINDOR.”

James joined you at the table only moments later and clapped your back. “Well done Pete.”

You smile back, so big it hurt, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sirius sulking.

You were the only one Sirius would talk to those first few weeks. Mainly because you both felt you were in the wrong house; one should have been a Slytherin and the other a Hufflepuff.. At least, that was how it had been until Christmas of that first year when you and Remus went home for the holidays and James and Sirius stayed behind. When you came back, they weren’t fighting anymore and neither of them told you what had changed.

Soon they started spending time together, playing pranks, making jokes, getting detention. Remus went along with them. After that, you were the unmistakable outsider. The one that everybody forgot about.

You were going to make sure no one ever forgot about you again. Peter, the tag-along marauder was dead and you were someone else, someone different. Someone dark.

And as you kneeled before the dark lord and prepared to betray your childhood friend, you wonder just how many times the sorting hat had been wrong.



The books all say that James Potter was a hero. That he died fearlessly facing down the evil lord Voldemort. The books all lied.

James Potter was absolutely terrified. Death was the last thing a twenty year old father wanted. In his youth he had always planned on living hard and dying young. It had never seemed important to make it past thirty. It had never seemed desirable to be an adult and an upstanding member of the community.

Now a days, James just wanted to see his family through to the next week. In truth, he had been waiting to die since the fidelius charm had been cast. He had half expected it to fail immediately and have Voldemort be knocking on his door the same night.

But a week later, they were all still alive.

He wondered if Peter was as scared as he was.

A stair creaked and he spun around, wand at the ready, but it was only Lily, standing at the foot of the stairs, her red hair hanging limp around her face. She held a baby in her arms. “I can’t get Harry to stop crying.”

Outside the storm raged.

Nothing good ever happened on nights like these.

James, shoved his feelings of unease back and walked over to the pair, kissed his wife and ruffled his son’s hair. “It’s just a storm. Nothing’s going to happen tonight.”

He felt his gut clench as he said it. He felt like something was going to happen, he’d been watching the windows all night for some sort of sign.

And he got his sign only a second later as the front door burst in and the rain outside started to splatter the floor inside. “It’s him,” James felt absolute terror grip his heart as he looked at his wife. “Take Harry and go.”

Lily was crying. “What are you going to do.”

“I’ll hold him off,” he said frantically, “Lily please, take Harry.”

“I’m not going to let you do this, James, its suicide!”

“Go!” he roared and Lily finally obeyed.

He turned around in time to see Voldemort step through the door of his house and he felt ice drench his heart.

“James Potter,” Voldemort hissed. “I’ve been looking for you.”

James was shaking. “What did you do to Peter?”

Voldemort’s lips twisted into a mockery of a smile. “I did nothing.”

The implications of the statement were clear but James didn’t believe a word of it. Lies, he told himself, everything about him is lies. And he threw the first curse.

And James Potter fought for his family, fought for his friends and fought for his life.

He fought bravely and died with honor.

But don’t let anyone tell you he fought without fear.


Recipe for Insanity


1. Take one part betrayal and add it to your best friend’s death

It was supposed to be the kind of friendship that lasted forever. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. They were the stuff of legends. People would be talking about them at Hogwarts for generations. The marauders were supposed to last forever.

Out of Hogwarts, the Marauders hadn’t even lasted five years.

It was Peter’s fault. Now that the betrayal had actually taken place, he had no idea why he hadn’t seen it coming. He had no idea why he had ever suspected Remus who had always been the loyal, noble, good marauder while Peter Pettigrew had been an attention seeking oaf from the beginning.

2. Add a thirst for revenge with a dash of guilt.

He was going to kill Peter. First of all because the rat deserved it. Second because Sirius had always been a murdering kind of person. He’d nearly killed Snape before, when he’d told Snape where to find Remus…

And now he’d killed James. Not with his own hands, but with pure carelessness.

He’d been a murderer since sixth year. Now was just the time to make it official. He could hear Moony’s voice in his head, ‘You worry about me descending into darkness and you don’t worry at all about the same thing happening to yourself.’

He ignored the voice of reason.

The rat deserved to die. No one could talk him out of that.

3. Let simmer for one week until it explodes

He found the rat a week after he killed James, in a crowded street full of muggles. The rat’s wand was not in hand, but a streak of blood stained his shirt.

“How could you, Peter,” he hissed, “we trusted you. We all trusted you. You were supposed to be our friend. How could you do that?”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Peter with an oddly set look on his face. He stepped back and Sirius saw something drop to the ground. “Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?”

And Peter gave Sirius a twisted smile and too late Sirius had realized what he had planned. Everyone knew that Sirius would be the Potter’s secret keeper and Peter had just proved it for any in doubt. Sirius drew his wand out as the street exploded in front of him.

Unnoticed by all, a rat slipped into the sewers.

4. Leave what is left to sit until it cracks.

There were dead muggles, people screaming and Sirius standing alone, wand drawn, with Pettigrew’s bloodied robes and a single severed finger in front of him.

It was almost absurd really. In Hogwarts, the number of successful pranks Peter had organized could be counted on one hand. The short chubby boy who had never been smart or popular, but always was universally liked was in reality evil, soulless.

He’d pulled the biggest most complicated prank Sirius had ever seen.

‘The best pranks,’ Sirius remembered telling him, ‘are the ones you don’t get blamed for.’

Peter had always gotten caught.


He couldn’t tell a lie to save his life.

Softly, Sirius started to laugh and once it started, he couldn’t make it stop.

He laughed because it was inept little Peter Pettigrew who had fooled them all.

He laughed because fifteen month old Harry Potter had defeated the darkest wizard of all time.

He laughed because Sirius Black, no matter how bad things got, never let himself cry.

He laughed until they threw him into Azkaban and the dementors sucked the humor from the situation.


Last One Standing


I was never supposed to be the last one left. Lycanthropy was supposed to assure that. But now they’re all gone and I am the last one standing.

Leaning back to look at the stars, I remembered four boys who promised to be friends until they died. Those four boys were not prepared to become men.

They were invincible inside the walls of Hogwarts, but the real world tore them apart one by one, violently and ruthlessly.

When the dust cleared, I was the only one left.

They had promised to stand by me when they found out my secret. They had said that they would stand by me forever.

And now forever was over.

James had gone out first. Like the hero he always had been. He had left his son behind—Harry, who by some miracle, had survived the attack and was living with Lily’s muggle sister. I’d tried to get custody, but they told me I wasn’t blood.

We had always said blood didn’t stop us from being brothers, but in the end blood was all that mattered.

Peter was dead as well. He’d finally gotten what he had always wanted. The fame, the glory. Order of Merlin—first class.

Somehow it didn’t seem like it mattered much anymore. What use did a finger have for fame?

And finally there was Sirius the murderer. Sirius who, in the end, had brought us all down. I wonder if he though it was worth it? I wonder when he’d decided to turn. How long had he been plotting to bring us down. I wonder if the Sirius I knew, trusted, and liked, had ever really existed.

I wonder when he’d changed.

I hoped he would rot in Azkaban, because he betrayed us all, brought us down.

I had forgiven him a lot of things. But for this I would hate him forever.

James and Peter are gone and Sirius is the one who did him in.

I didn’t know how to keep strong by myself.

I was never supposed to be the last marauder.