Interlude: Marauder Era Survivors

Moony wanted to die. All his friends were dead now, and he was wasting his time trying to bring the wolves to his cause while most of them were already in Voldemort's pocket. In his opinion, all the things that he had to live for had been snatched away from him one by one.

The death of Sirius in particular wracked him with guilt. So many years lost due to his imprisonment, so many years he blamed Sirius for the death of Prongs and Wormtail. And now he was gone as well. All that remained was the rat, and at this point, Remus did not care. Wormtail would get his just deserts one way or the other. Now that the truth was out, someone would get that slippery rat. It was just that he couldn't be arsed anymore to do anything. He was just tired, tired of losing everything time and time again.

The only reason why he was still sticking around was Harry. That was another major source of guilt for him. He had utterly failed that child time and time again. Excuse after excuse, failure after failure, and people wondered why he looked so lost nowadays. Due to his grief and cowardice, he didn't visit the child and blindly believed Dumbledore when he said that everything was fine. Now the lad was almost of age, and he had no proper memories with him like a good uncle should have had.

Loss had hit them in different ways. From what he observed, Harry had used the grief and rage to motivate himself and move forward. While he was just going with his tried and tested method of sitting in a corner and let the world move past him. He could almost feel his inner wolf scoff at him and shake its head in disappointment. Werewolves were supposed to be ruthless, vicious creatures. Remus felt like he was a neutered dog, more than anything.

This was the reason why he did not reciprocate Dora's advances as well. She was a lovely woman, but she deserved way better than him. The age gap was a thing, but more than that, he couldn't bring himself to begin a relationship with someone when he was not sure if he even wanted to live or not. Moreover, what future could he offer anyone? The ministry regulations wouldn't allow him to get a proper job. Even if it weren't so, the stigma alone would do the same. Although Sirius left him a sizeable sum of money, he would feel pathetic if he just mooched off his dead friend's money and did nothing for himself. Starting a business was out of question because who would come to a werewolf's store? He could invest, that could be done. But once again, he was just bloody tired. There was no motivation to do any of these things. All he wanted right now was to fight some of those Death Eater scum and take out as many as he could before they did him in.

Instead, he was sitting in the last order meeting of the summer, listening as the group was just shouting at each other for something or the other. Children, the whole lot of them. Molly did not have a filter on her mouth, Snape was a petty, vengeful bastard and when they get going, it just snowballs into something worse. The sane members like Dora and Shack were trying to calm them down, but nobody would listen and the others were also getting dragged into the argument. The order has been in shambles ever since the coordinated attack on Harry's birthday.

Him spending the summer alone at Grimmauld with minimal supervision was already a major point of contention between some members. Especially Snape and Molly. Snape was more spiteful than ever since the wards ejected him. Molly, because she was deprived of her chance to mother another child. Adding fuel to the fire was Hermione's scathing diatribe about all the members and her subsequent disavowal of the order's protections. Her parting remark that they as kids had done more for the effort against Voldemort than the order was something they really couldn't refute in hindsight. The girl reminded him so much of Lily sometimes.

He calmly sipped at his cup of tea and waited for Dumbledore or Moody to come and silence the others, like always. Even above all this din, he could hear the surly elf Kreacher mumbling about them infringing on his master's hospitality as he served tea to the others and laid a plate of biscuits on the table. That came as another major shock to the group a couple of weeks ago. Apparently Harry had a way with elves. The miserable elf was one Remus knew for years, and he showed this kind of respect and devotion only to Walburga and Regulus. He even wore a butler uniform instead of the usual rags. It made him wonder if it was all an act or whether Harry had somehow managed to secure the loyalty of the vicious elf.

Right as he was done with his cup, Dumbledore and Moody arrived via the floo. One looked thoughtful while the other had a maniacal smile on his face as his false eye darted around the room in paranoia. Moody had been another splintering agent within the group of late.

Capturing the Death Eaters was now a resource heavy task as they had to send off aurors to guard the prisoners the more they captured. Without Azkaban, Moody just wanted to fight fire with fire. The young ones, the new members like Bill, Fleur and the twins were all for it. Shack and Dora would follow the new ministry guidelines, or else they would be out of a job. The old ones like Diggle, Doge, Molly, Arthur, Podmore and all would prefer to stand on the moral high ground that Albus preached about. Snape, nobody knew what the fuck Snape was doing. He was too hush-hush with Albus about it and mere members like him wouldn't need to know. Finally Mundungus, that bastard would rather run than fight. What a messed up group theirs was. Yet people still wondered why they were losing.

Under normal circumstances, Remus would follow what Dumbledore said and did. He owed and respected him too much to do otherwise. Unfortunately, things were not so cut and clear anymore. Moreover, Dumbledore had changed after that fiasco at the ministry. It was like he changed tracks all of a sudden. He could notice that Dumbledore was rushing some things and being frantic. Something hadn't gone according to his plans and it looked like now he was preparing for a different end game. For some reason, he was completely focused on gaining Harry's trust and preparing him for conflict, while before, he was happy to sit Harry on the bench.

The others might not know it, but his keen senses and instincts told him one thing for sure. Dumbledore was dying. He hadn't broached the topic with him, but he could practically smell the impending death on him. Like he was dying day by day. He himself wouldn't have noticed if he didn't spend so much time around the man. Another reason why he thought he was sitting on a sinking ship.

What nobody expected was the mysterious third party that had cropped up in this war. So far, according to the testimonies from the Bones attack, they knew only of one masked individual who decimated the Death Eaters. But speculation was ripe that it was a whole group which was doing it. How else could they explain the sheer number dead Death Eaters? So many raids thwarted, so many wankers offed for good. It looked like someone knew what they were doing. If he had an opportunity, he would rather join up with them. From the way Moody talked about the ambushes, it looked like he would too.

Meanwhile, Albus had been giving one of his sermons and Remus hadn't even noticed him speaking. What broke him out of his reverie was one single name, a name that single handedly destroyed his job prospects a couple of years ago.

"Someone took out Umbridge?" he asked dumbly.

"Yes Remus. Initially we thought it was the work of Death Eaters. We thought they wanted something from her regarding the ministry. But it looks like we were wrong. Whoever killed her was sending a message. There were several incriminating documents left for the aurors. It looked like she was promised a prominent role in the new administration in exchange for being a liaison between the Death Eaters and the Dementors."

"Good riddance," mumbled Alastor.

"Alastor, not the time," grumbled Minerva. Remus knew that over the past year, Minerva had her own problems with Umbridge. It looked like she didn't want another one of their debates about lethal force to start once again. He nodded at Moody and kept listening. A child torturing, Death Eater supporting hag wouldn't be mourned.

"It was not clean either. She was tortured before they finished her off. Cruciatus, broken bones and finally, several slash wounds which caused her to bleed out and die. We think it is the work of whoever is ambushing the Death Eaters."

"The dark lord wasn't pleased about losing another valuable supporter," said Snape.

"What is he ever pleased about? All we hear from you is tales of cruciatus curses and increasing workloads. Do you even have any useful intel?" ground out Bill. Remus thought that the lad took the words out of his mouth. The Weasleys had been on edge ever since the recent attack on their home, and were especially cross with Snape about not giving them a heads up.

Before Snape could respond, he gasped and stood up at once. Remus initially thought that it was another summons from Voldemort, but he did not grab his arm.

"Someone disabled the protections at my home," he bit out through grit teeth. Figures, multiple houses are hit and Snape is nonchalant, but someone touches his house and his rage is obvious.

"Can't be your Death Eater buddies. It is definitely that other group," said Moody.

"Severus, will the Death Eaters come to your aid now?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't want to risk it. If it is that other group, then maybe we can form an alliance. They might not know that I am a spy," Snape mused.

"Alright. Alastor and I will accompany you. We don't want this other group to know about all of our members. If we need aid, I will send Fawkes here. Remus, Kingsley and Nymphadora, can I count you three for backup?" asked Dumbledore.

Remus just nodded along with the others.

"Meeting adjourned then. We will all need to have another talk soon. The rest of you can leave, but please be on alert. I don't think this is will devolve into conflict if our interests align. Let's hope that we have more allies by the end of this," he spoke as he quickly grabbed the other two and called on Fawkes.

Everyone sat in silence as they vanished in a burst of flames. The silence did not last long though.

"Nasty Wizards having no sense of decorum. Oh how Kreacher's poor master has to tolerate these fools. Kreacher has to wait for nasty wizards to leave before he can get to proper cleaning. The soot will stick to the walls as well," moaned the elf, getting on everyone's nerves. Everyone except for Dora, Bill, the twins and Remus himself. It still stung the pride of some of the older members that they had to rely on a sixteen year old boy to such an extent. And Kreacher was all too willing to remind them at every chance he got.

The effect was immediate though. Everyone started to leave one by one. He didn't move from his seat as he had to wait with Shack and Dora to act as backup if needed. Before Minerva could leave though, Harry and Hermione entered the room, surprising everyone. Harry was often sarcastic with his comments about the order, mainly due to the embarrassing episode with Mundungus. Hermione on the other hand, was downright vicious. Nobody expected her to willingly walk into a room where the order was gathered in.

"Professor, we need to talk to you," she said. Everyone else beat a hasty retreat from the room and soon only Hermione, Harry, Minerva, Shack, Dora and Remus remained. Molly looked at them forlornly, but had refrained from saying anything and left with the rest due to the tense mood. Remus had asked if they wanted privacy, but Harry just waved them off, making it clear that whatever this was, it was nothing private.

There was something about Harry though, that confused Remus. His instincts told him that something was off, but his keen senses told him otherwise. Any doubt he had about an imposter though, vanished the moment Kreacher bowed to him and offered him some tea. Elves could never mistake their masters for someone else. But there was still something that bugged him.

"What is it that you want to talk about Ms. Granger?" asked Minerva. Things had been tenuous between the professor and her favorite student ever since Hermione made her views about the order known. Nobody blamed her though, they knew that she was in grief. Although, to be bluntly told about ones faults hurts ones ego after all.

Without answering her at first, Hermione placed something on the table and said, "We don't want it."

A cursory glance told him that she had placed two badges on the table.

"May I ask why?" she asked after a few seconds of silence.

"I thought it would be obvious at this point. But if you want reasons, then yeah sure. I have two. One, I do not want to work with the male prefect of our year. It would lead to someone being sent to the hospital wing, and that someone won't be me. Two, I do not want to follow orders and mandates from members of the order in any non-academic capacity. Moreover, it's not like I can be forced to be a prefect. So, I quit," said Hermione.

Minerva's lips were pursed and her forehead was crinkled in apparent disapproval. Alas, Hermione did not look like she cared one bit. The whole scene was pretty hilarious to Remus. He had been their teacher, so he knew what kind of a student Hermione was. She used to be so eager to please the teachers. Last year, she was ecstatic about being named a prefect. Yet here she was, blatantly telling Minerva to find someone else to do her bidding.

"And what about you Mr. Potter? What reason do you have for not being the quidditch captain? It grants you a status equal to a prefect's without the responsibilities of one."

Harry chuckled at that and said, "I think you are mistaken professor. I am not just revoking my newly appointed status as the captain. I am quitting the team as a whole."

If Hermione's proclamation didn't agree with Minerva, now she looked downright shocked. Remus had to try very hard to stifle his laughter. Dora on the other hand had no such self-control and burst out with laughter at the look on Minerva's face. A quick glare sent her way silenced her at once though. Spending so long a teacher gives one a specific glare, he reckoned.

"Why would you do that? Don't you want to get back after the fiasco with Dolores?"

"They managed well without me, they can do so again. As for the why, professor, I have far more important things to spend my time on. I don't have the time to hold tryouts, to get everyone in line and practice regularly for the matches. We are at war. There are better things to do."

"But surely you need time to do things you like don't you? I thought that quidditch meant something to you. We know about your aspirations of being an auror, but you are good enough to play professionally if you want. You can't sabotage your career prospects and put everything at hold just because a madman is running around," she said. Remus had to agree with the boy though. If he wanted to relax and do something, he can very well go flying on his own or play a simple pickup game. Managing a team was too much work, especially with the kind of nonsense that was going on because of Voldemort. Sure, the kids needed to enjoy their childhoods and not worry about it all. But that ship had long sailed for these kids. Especially for Harry.

"I wish it were that simple professor. You know that my days are numbered. I can't slack off and then regret that I did not prepare myself better. Thank you for worrying about me, but it's better for everyone if Katie took up the mantle. The team can manage."

She took a deep breath and said, "If it is what you really want, then I suppose I should accept. Also, if there is something you need to talk about, my door is always open. And don't have such fatalistic thoughts Harry. You ought to trust us old ones a bit more."

"Sure, thanks professor. Sorry for disappointing you, I guess," he said as he waved to Remus and Dora and walked back outside, Hermione following him without a word.

Minerva might have told him to trust the adults more, but Remus knew that almost every single adult in his life had failed him multiple times. He was not free of that sin either. He groaned and placed his forehead on the table, wishing that he somehow got a time turner that took him fifteen years back, before his life went to shit completely. Maybe he would make good decisions then.

##################

The Half-Blood Prince cursed his luck as he reached Spinner's End along with Dumbledore and Moody. His home was his one single sanctuary from the hellhole that his life had become. And someone was attacking it.

Sure, the house reminded him of his bastard of a father, but it also was a reminder with regards to his connection with Lily. It was in this locality that he first met her, the only good thing that ever happened in his life. That is the only reason why he still lived here during the summers. He could easily afford better housing, but to Severus, the past was the only place worth living in. There was no present for him, nor any sort of future.

He knew deep down that he would one day die either at the hands of the light or the dark. Such was the slippery slope he walked on. But he didn't mind. After all, people who cared about all that tosh were people who had things to expect from life.

His only purpose in life at present was to see that Lily's blood survives the bloody war. Anything else did not matter to him. He did not care whether the brat was happy or not. He needed to be alive and that was that. Maintaining his focus on his task was getting harder and harder due to the arrogance of the brat growing over the summer. It disgusted him how much the brat reminded him of Potter. What made it even worse that one of Lily's eyes got mutilated and what remained was some grotesque abomination.

They did not appear right outside the house in fear of getting caught in the crossfire or being bounced back due to any wards or enchantments. As they quickly walked towards the end of the street where his house was located at, they were halted by a deafening roar from that direction. The next moment, a humongous pillar of fire rose from the place where his house used to be.

Within a few seconds, they were in front of the house, watching as the perfect cylindrical tower of flames began to shrink. The sky might have been clear of any more flames, but the earth was razed and still burning.

It took them more time than they liked to put out the fires. What remained in the end was just smoking rubble and ash where his house used to be. After casting a homenum revelio and confirming that there was nobody there, they moved in.

"There seems to be quite a powerful flame containment charm around this area. Its effects are quite similar to the fire protection potion you brewed as a part of the protections for the Philosopher's Stone. That's why the fire was funneled upwards instead of expanding sideways. Ingenious, it protected the neighbors while concentrating more heat towards the target," Albus said as he waved his wand around, trying to find something else.

Severus did not care how impressive the containment must have been to hold flames of this scale. He was thoroughly pissed that his house and several of his possessions were gone. He walked around the rubble, trying to find out if anything survived.

"No spell residue of any kind except for the broken enhancements and the fire containment," grumbled Moody, "Whatever it was, the fire wasn't caused by a spell. You sure you did not leave something boiling in a cauldron Snape?"

"Of course not," he snarled, "My muggle repelling charms are still up. Whoever broke in, specifically took out just the defense, blew the house up and then immediately escaped. The timeframe is too narrow for anything else."

"Probably set up the containment beforehand then," mused Moody as he was sweeping his wand, clearing out the rubble at a hasty pace.

"Ah, and what might this be?" called out Albus. His tone was playful, something which Severus did not appreciate at all. He grit his teeth and walked towards where Albus was.

Severus cursed his luck once again when he saw what Albus had discovered. On the floor was a silver hand, glowing due to the heat it must have endured. In his rage and irritation, he had not once thought about Wormtail.

"This is the new hand that Tom crafted for Peter is it not?"

Severus took a long breath, already preparing himself for what was to come. The Dark Lord would not be pleased. Wormtail was a worthless fool, but a resource was a resource. This particular resource was assigned to him this summer. True, he had fun forcing Wormtail to clean the house and scrub the cauldrons, but it didn't change the fact that he was responsible for the rat while he was here.

"So you're saying Pettigrew attacked here and got smoked?" asked Moody.

Snape winced, not prepared for this conversation. His loyalty was already being questioned by the members of the order despite the assurances that Albus gave them. If word got out, it would be another problem. Especially with the mutt and the brat.

"Oh no Alastor, Peter was staying here under Tom's orders." Albus said nonchalantly.

Moody stilled immediately. His fake eye began switching between the two of them at a manic pace.

"Bollocks to that! I don't know what kind of game you are playing Albus. The rat was right under our noses and you knew about it. If Remus and Potter find about this, they will be out for blood. I understand maintaining a spy's cover. But to be honest, I don't trust this slimy git one bit. He has given us abysmal intel while he practically knows everything about our operations. Vance and the Grangers could have been saved if we knew. Or maybe you knew and did not deem us all worthy enough to share. You know what, I am done here. Either the blokes have Pettigrew or you will find his bones here somewhere. These folks don't like to spare these scum, so I am sure that he is dead. Have fun keeping your secrets, I'll see if I can make it to the next order meeting," he grumbled before he hobbled off the perimeter and disappeared with a pop. Leaving them both in silence in his wake.

##################

Wormtail sputtered awake as cold water splashed on his face. He hissed at once as his right arm felt like it was on fire. He took a quick look at it and saw that the silver hand was cut off and what remained was a cauterized stump. He also felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He looked over and saw that it was a stab wound of some kind.

Why was it always him that had to go through pain and humiliation? As if spending more than a decade as a garden rat and eating leftovers wasn't enough. He had resurrected the Dark Lord and what did he get in return? He was ordered to be the servant of Snape when he was here for the summer. And now, he found himself in a dimly lit room, tied to a chair, once again without a hand.

All that he remembered was that he was taking a break from scrubbing the damn cauldrons before something white flew in at high speeds, breaking the window and crashing into him. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder at that moment. After that, everything went black. Maybe if Snape wasn't so pedantic about magical cleaning affecting the potions, he would have had his wand at ready and stopped himself from getting nabbed.

"Hello rat," came the clipped voice of the masked man who had been decimating the Death Eaters this summer. He whimpered and tried to transform into his animagus form but he wasn't able to.

"I fell for that trick once, won't again," he said as he lowered the hood and removed his goggles and mask. What Peter saw shocked him greatly. He expected the masked interloper to be some grizzly survivor of the previous war. What he didn't expect was the face of the boy he had been observing for three years. A boy he thought incapable of such brutality.

"Surprised?" he smirked. The glint in his mismatched eyes unnerved Peter. It was unlike any look that James had, and it was unlike any look that Harry used to have. Right now, right here, what he saw was unadulterated malice in those eyes.

"Harry, w-why are you doing this?" The response that Peter got was a sardonic laughter.

"Are you really that dumb Wormta- nah, you don't deserve a marauder name. Not after all that you've done."

"Please Harry, mercy," he begged, already guessing where this was going.

"Mercy? I gave you mercy once you rat," he spat in anger and stabbed his thigh with a knife that appeared in his hand all of a sudden. Peter roared in pain as Harry dug the knife deeper.

"I spared your life and what did you do? You cut me up and used my blood to bring that psychopath back."

"But I had no other choice," he shouted in return, his heart hammering against his chest due to the fear and the pain. He could not transform, he couldn't feel his portkeys on him, he was truly trapped.

"Bullshit. We all have choices to makes. You made all sorts of wrong choices for years. You asked for mercy? I am all out of it. Why don't you beg for mercy from all the people who have died since you resurrected your dear dark lord?"

"Please…" he begged. Because that was the only thing he could do right now. He hoped that Harry would waste more time and someone would come to save him. Surely Snape would have noticed that he was missing.

"Nobody is coming for you, you piece of shit. This location is warded to high hell. Of course, you are inside a fidelius as well. Quite ironic, since a fidelius is how you ruined my life," he snarled as he stabbed his thigh once more. Along with the pain, a bout of surprise rocked through him. Last he heard, Harry was lousy at the mind arts.

"Not anymore," he once again answered his thoughts.

"Anyway, I grow tired of your useless words and thoughts. I am going to explain what is going to happen to you and why it is happening. Do you understand?"

When Peter did not say anything in response, he was punched hard on his nose. It felt like he was hit by a battering ram. The sheer force exuded by the punch was not something he equated to the once skinny boy.

He gasped and sputtered as blood shot out of his broken nose, flowing down in rivulets. Harry tightly grasped his jaw and tilted his head upwards. At that moment, Peter did not fear the Dark Lord. He feared Harry Potter. Whatever information he needed, he would give, only if he could leave alive.

"You already know that I am a legilimens now. Moreover, I have a… path that will allow me to plunder everything in that empty head of yours. You do have a rare skill after all. Waste not want not. The knowledge of the mechanics alone would set us several steps ahead in our attempts. I digress, I asked you a question, did I not. Nod if you understand."

After Peter nodded hesitantly, still thinking of ways to escape, Harry spoke again, "You pride yourself in being a survivor. You have succeed so far, despite our contrasting opinions on survival. You survive, while everyone around you dies. Heck, everyone else in the world can burn while you survive, and that is exactly what you did. Doesn't matter if you acknowledge it or not, but you are the person who caused the death of every single person that died so far and will die in this war. I can guarantee you, that no pleasant afterlife awaits you. Trust me on this."

As he took a pause, Peter squirmed in his chair, the pain from the stab wounds were more intense than the chopped off stump and he could not understand why.

"It is a cursed blade you fool. Anyway, I did not do this kind of monologue or drawn out shit for any of my kills. Even Umbridge did not see my face. But I want you to know, I want you to know that vengeance came to your door just like you lead Voldemort to mine all those years ago. There is a part of me that doesn't give a shit and wants to off you without all the theatrics. Yet, there is another part of me which loathes you. That part of me rightfully believes that you are the reason for a lot of pain that I had to endure. And who am I to deny myself the satisfaction? I owe myself that much. It is not like you are innocent, you are a mass murderer after all."

"Harry please, please don't do this," he croaked through the building pain from his injuries.

"Umbridge's death served a purpose. It was to let the ministry know that they are rotten, and to let the Death Eaters know that their unmarked allies aren't as safe as they'd like to believe. But your death, your death will serve no other purpose except for mine. I will plunder your knowledge, I will cause you untold pain, I will chop off your limbs, and then I will kill you. There will be no body left behind, no messages. You will fade off into obscurity like you deserve. The chances of someone becoming a ghost is very small. But a sniveling coward like you might become one, who knows. I took no chances. There is even an exorcism circle around your chair," Peter immediately looked down and could see faint lines around him.

"You are going to catch an expressway to Cellarius, and I pray that your sentence is long. Now, shall we begin?"

Peter wept as Harry twirled his knife and came closer, his red eye shining in the darkness.