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She's In Love With The Rat by Kira

Format: Novel
Chapters: 23
Word Count: 86,809

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Substance Use or Abuse

Genres: Drama, Humor, Romance
Characters: Lupin, Snape, Sirius, Lily, James, Pettigrew, Voldemort, OC
Pairings: Other Pairing

First Published: 11/14/2006
Last Chapter: 07/02/2007
Last Updated: 04/22/2013


Sensational banner made by azn_princess from TDA! So awesome!
Katie Potter is the seventeen year old, never been kissed, sister of James Potter and she is certain that she is in love with Sirius Black. However, fate’s winding road leads her, instead, into the arms of the last person she ever expected; a person who would make her life extraordinary at one moment... and then tear it to shreds. And he spends some of his time as a rat...

Chapter 16: Done

Back for more I see? You know you loved that cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. *Ducks as things are thrown.* Take it easy. Why did this chapter take longer? I blame my Professors and the nice weather. But the wait is over. Sit back and relax and get ready to experience Chapter Sixteen of She’s In Love With The Rat. Dramatic hey?

Oh, and by the way! We have just passed the 1800 read point!!! Congratulations!!!

Chapter Sixteen


A small gasp uttered from my lips as I promptly dropped my quill and pad of paper. Ralph Pettigrew? I had to interview Ralph Pettigrew? Now? As my first real assignment?

“Oh my god,” I muttered as I dropped to my knees to gather my supplies. I could feel him looking at the top of my head; it felt like his gaze was going to burn a hole into my skull. What could I do? “Oh god.”

“Excuse me? Can’t we get started?” I looked up to Mr. Pettigrew and saw that his eyes did not show any sort of hostility; they were simply normal. My heart stopped fluttering so badly and resumed at least a semi normal pace. He didn’t recognize me? His eyes were looking right into mine and…nothing. I was safe. At least for now. I collected myself as best I could and attempted to get into my writer’s mindset. I did what Mr. Bailey instructed; I offered Mr. Pettigrew a refreshment, which he declined, and then ushered him to the conference room. My hand was still shaking a little bit when we sat at the table and I placed my pad of questions on the table.

The questions were highly boring. Investments, stocks, funds….those sorts of things. Mr. Pettigrew was a graceful speaker I noticed, but I had to work hard to keep any sort of dislike out of my voice. This was the guy who had caused my boyfriend all this pain. I scribbled away; trying to make sure I got everything Mr. Pettigrew was saying down. I had to listen intently to catch details, names, places, and dates of exchanges. It was tedious and if Binns had been lecturing on the topic, I would have been snoozing. But I was a journalist now. This was my job. No matter how boring the information it was exciting because I was my assignment.

After I had finished all the points on my pad and we had finished our thoughts I gave Mr. Pettigrew the brightest, fake smile I could muster. I shook his hand quickly and said efficiently,

“Thank you for taking the time to do this interview. Expect to see it in the next issue’s business section.” He gave me a curt nod and started to pack up; he had a couple of notes and a quill in front of him. At that moment Rita burst into the room carrying a cup of coffee. That girl was beginning to drive me insane. Mr. Pettigrew paused to stare at her; the vibrancy of her outfit was probably blinding him.

“Mr. Bailey sent me here to make sure you offered Mr. Pettigrew some coffee,” she rattled quickly, and I could immediately tell she was lying.

“The interview is over,” I hissed. “Get out of here.”

“Did it go well?” she whispered back to me with a strange glint in her eyes. I shrugged and nodded my head. Actually all things considered it had gone very well. Mr. Pettigrew was making his way to the exit when Rita exclaimed loudly,

“You would think it would have been awkward to interview your boyfriend’s father!” I uttered a small gasp as Mr. Pettigrew stopped mid-exit and turned to stare at me.

“Have fun,” Rita sang evilly as she darted out the door away from my murderous glare. I would have to kill her later. I gulped at the lump that had formed in my throat and turned to face Mr. Pettigrew, who had not left. In fact, he had sat back down at the table. He was looking at me in a funny way, but I could tell by his eyes that the dawn of realization had come at last.

“I didn’t recognize you,” he said softly, stating the obvious. “That was awhile ago, and I didn’t expect…here of all places.”

I didn’t answer. What was I supposed to say? So I decided to just look at him instead.

“Can I ask you something?” he said gently. His tone was totally unthreatening; almost sad.

“I supposed,” I answered, cautiously. I could think of nothing that Ralph Pettigrew would want to ask me.

“How is Peter?” I blinked at the question. I guess that was something I knew about that he would be interested in. Peter.

“He’s alright,” I replied automatically, not really knowing how in depth of an explanation he would want.

Mr. Pettigrew flicked a piece of his faded hair out of his eyes, sighing. “I was just wondering…he won’t answer any of my letters.” I had never thought I would be hearing Mr. Pettigrew talk in this fashion. A fashion that made him seem weak and vulnerable.

“You sent him letters?” I inquired curiously, taking the seat across from him.

“Nearly everyday,” he replied, sounding truly agitated now. “Telling him that I was sorry. Telling him that he can come home when he wants to. At the end of the year…whatever.”

“You kicked him out the night we were there,” I insisted; not too harshly.

“Not permanently,” he persisted. “I was angry. We both made mistakes. But I’m ready to take responsibility for them. Will you tell him that?”

“Um…” I said, uncertain.

“He won’t talk to me,” Mr. Pettigrew continued. “Just tell him that I’m sorry and I want to talk to him. Tell him?”

“Alright,” I answered, already thinking of ways I could lay this information in front of Peter. Maybe his dad wasn’t the villain of this story after all.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling a real smile. He shook my hand warmly and fulfilled the exit he had begun moments ago.


Mr. Bailey praised me highly for my notes.

“This are concise yet very, very informative. I think you just might have the blood of a journalist in you Ms. Potter!” I swelled with pride and shot a nasty look at Rita who had been watching.

After a few more hours of filing papers, pouring more coffee, ect…Rita and I made our way back to the Floo powder.

“How was the end of your interview?” Rita asked, in that sick, sweet voice that drove me insane.

I rolled my eyes at her and filled my voice with contempt. “Rita, the next time you try to sabotage me you might want to try something that actually works. And Mr. Bailey loves the notes I did on the interview and he says I have the makings of a journalist.” I patted her shoulder. “Nice try.”


Since it was such a lovely, late Spring evening I found Peter and the other Marauders by the lake, sitting beneath a large tree that was beginning to sprout flowers. Remus was buried in paperwork; writing away vigorously at something. James, Sirius, and Peter were all sitting with their backs against the tree; eyes closed. Their work was scattered in front of them; clearly forgotten. The sun was on its way down and a slightly breezy wind whistled though the blades of grass and through the branches of the trees. Sirius cracked an eye as the squishing grass signaled my approach.

“Wormtail,” he muttered lazily; punching Peter on the arm. “Girlfriend ahoy.” Peter opened his eyes and smiled at me; not moving.

“Hey,” he murmured. “How was your job?”

“Really great,” I responded, reaching out my hand, to pull him to his feet. “But we need to talk.”

“Uh oh,” James said, not opening his eyes. “Every guy’s favorite words.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Peter asked jokingly, curling up and pretending to me scared.

“This is serious,” I answered, grabbing him by the arm, and attempting to hoist him to his feet.

“That’s another phrase we all love to hear,” Sirius commented in a dreamy voice.

“Ok, ok,” Peter said, finally getting up. He brushed his robes off and followed me away from the boys. When I was convinced we were a sufficient amount of space away from them I stopped and turned to face Peter.

“So I was at work…” I started, but Peter held up a hand.

“Don’t I get a hello kiss, love?” I gave him a half smile and pecked him quickly on the lips, before launching back into my story.

When I got to the part that concerned his father, his gaze changed from interested to confused and worried. When I had finished my narration of everything that had transpired at the Daily Prophet I posed a question that had been bothering me,

“Why didn’t you tell me he was sending you letters?” Peter shrugged; as if this was a very uninteresting and unimportant.

“What does it matter? I didn’t read them. I figured that you didn’t need to know.”

“It matters Peter,” I protested. “It shows he does care! It shows that he wants to make everything better.” Peter laughed bitterly and shook his head.

“He ALWAYS does this,” he cursed. “He always is able to manipulate people. He always makes himself the hero of the story. That I’m the bad son and that he is the good father who is trying to make things right between us.”

“Peter,” I tried. “You’re not a bad son. But maybe he isn’t a bad father. I think he’s really sorry.”

“He is NEVER really sorry,” Peter cried. “Don’t you get that?! He just says it. The meaning of the words don’t matter. He just says it!”

“He just seemed genuine to me,” I said, feeling the conversation was not going well at all. Had I thought maybe Peter and his father might actually reconcile? Perhaps I had got my hopes up.

“He’s a fake,” Peter insisted. “I would know! I’ve lived with him…forever!”

“Maybe if you just talked…”

“I don’t want to talk to him!” Peter shouted. “I would be fine never seeing him again. Jeez, he manages to even corrupt my own girlfriend!”

“Peter, I’m on your side!” I yelled back. “But all I know is that today I saw your father in a pretty sorry state.”

“You just don’t get it do you?” Peter declared before throwing his hands in the air, and walking away.


This argument never really had apologies on either side. It seemed that we had just decided to forget about it. I didn’t want to talk about it. Peter definitely DIDN’T want to talk about it.

“It’s his business,” I told myself. He knows his father better than me. Who was I to say anything? So it was forgotten. We just put the feelings away; yet their shadow remained in my mind. Was this the healthiest choice? Probably not. But it was just easier. I was so terribly busy that I just didn’t have time to deal with all my feelings anyway.

I found that we would snap at each other more often. A few months ago his words and mine would have stung a little. But between school, work, homework, essays, studying, and everything else I just became more numb to it than anything else. I would shrug it off instead of dealing.

Soon it was April. The work did not stop. If I wasn’t doing something for school, I was doing something for Mr. Bailey. He was always so enthusiastic about my work, that I felt I couldn’t ever let him down. I mean I couldn’t let Rita inch ahead. I had to cancel a total of four dates with Peter by this time. I felt awful. I told him I was sorry and that I would make it up to him. How would I do that? Sometimes I got done so late, he was already asleep.

A few others, including Remus, were even more stressed than me. As an evening in late April came to a close I remember him walking down the corridor nearly in tears.

“Remus!” I exclaimed, running to him. “What is it?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said in a robotic, exhausted voice.

“About what?” I asked, leading him along.

“I don’t want to be a Healer anymore,” he gasped. “After all that work…”

“What do you want to be?” I encouraged, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“A teacher,” he responded, so softly I could barely hear him.

“It’ll be okay,” I declared confidently. “If anyone can do this you can. And I’m sure Dumbledore could help you. I’m really proud of you Remus.”

“But, I’ve got nothing filled out to become a professor,” he blurted out. “What’s to be proud of?”

“At least you’re going for something you want!” I urged. Then I muttered. “Unlike some people I know.”

Did I just say that?


I walked Remus back to the Common Room and told him to go to bed. He actually listened to my orders and I was left alone in the Common Room with Sirius, who was actually finishing up homework…for once it seemed.

“We’re you studying in the library?’ he inquired, as I sunk into the couch next to him.

“Yes,” I answered, totally drained. “Is Peter…?”

“Asleep? Yeah.”

“I’m a terrible girlfriend,” I moaned, burying my face in a pillow.

“Nah, you’re not,” Sirius answered. “You’re just dedicated to work right now. I’m sure he understands.”

“You know something Sirius?” I said, sitting up; my hair askew. “I don’t think he does. I mean he’s doing nothing to prepare for after Hogwarts. Graduation is right around the corner. I’m not saying he has to decide precisely what he wants to do or anything. I just wish he had some direction. I know he was supposed to go work with his father. I’m not saying that work would make him happy, but at least it would be something.”

Sirius didn’t look at me.

“I’m sorry,” I groaned. “I didn’t mean to spill all this to you.”

“I don’t mind,” was the reply. “But I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Does he ever talk about jobs with you?” I asked, thinking perhaps he had confided in Sirius.


“This is impossible!” I snapped. “I don’t know what to do. I looked over at Sirius and was surprised to see a look of worry and fear on his face.

“Hey Pete,” he said, shakily, and I could see him staring over my shoulder. “I thought you were asleep.” I froze; I could feel goose bumps prickle their way across my arms. I looked over my shoulder and could tell instantly by Peter’s face, that he had heard everything I had just said. Sirius lowered his head, muttered a quick goodbye and slipped away. I couldn’t blame him. I had been the one who was pouring my soul to him, he hadn’t done anything but listen. I didn’t meet Peter’s eyes as he approached.

“Hi,” I whispered as he came to stand in front of me. I could tell he was mad. His eyes were cold and his cheeks had a hint of red in them. I was about to offer my heartfelt apology, but he started to talk first.

“Is there something going on in our relationship that I don’t know about?” he asked numbly.

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” I replied, shaking my head.

“Oh really,” he said, in a fake surprised voice. “Then maybe you want to explain to me why you went to talk to Sirius about me, instead of coming to me to talk about me.” I blinked as I worked out what he had just asked me in my head.

“I’m sorry,” I answered, ashamed. “I was worried how you would react if I confronted you. And Sirius just happened to be there. So I told him.”

“So what’s the problem?” he asked, in a hostile and accusing voice. “I’m not good enough for you?”

“That is NOT what I said, and you know it!” I gasped. “I’m worried about you!”

“Just because I’m not going to work for my father?!” he shouted.

“NO!” I hollered back. A few first years passed us, looking terrified. “I just want to see you happy. I want to see you go for something.”

“Look,” he replied, darkly. “Just because you found your dream job doesn’t mean I’m just going to find mine.” I sighed in frustration.

“That job didn’t just magically appear! I had to work for it. I had to do something. You’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.” After that, Peter looked like he was about to explode. Instead, he took a deep breath and threw himself on the couch; putting his head in his hands.

“This is so stupid,” I heard him mutter. “This is the most I’ve seen you this week and we’re fighting. I don’t even feel like I have a girlfriend anymore.” He was right. We were fighting a lot.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, taking the seat next to him. “School is harder than ever, my job is so important…it’s a lot to juggle.”

“Yet, you have time to discuss my shortcomings with Sirius?” he snapped. I could tell that he was sorry he said that the moment the words left his lips, but he had said it. I shook my head in anger, and stalked out of the Common Room upset and confused about…everything.


This had been a major fight. I didn’t expect it to go away without discussion like the others. But…it did. Peter didn’t ask me about it. I didn’t ask him about it. He didn’t apologize. I didn’t apologize. We just didn’t discuss it. But no matter what I told myself, it was still there. I couldn’t just forget. I didn’t want to just forget. This was important. It was important enough to fight about.

But the work kept coming and my relationship just seemed to take the backseat. Was that right? No. Maybe I needed to try harder to find balance. The thing was I didn’t have the time to try and find balance.

Even sleep became the opposite of what I wanted it to be. I was usually so tired when I finally reached my bed that I would hit the pillow and go out like a light. I wouldn’t open my eyes again until morning when I had to head off to class or do an early assignment for work. There was no more pleasure in sleeping. It was just something else I had to do. As for Peter, it would be an understatement to say that we were drifting. Once, I went three days in a row without seeing him.

But time didn’t stop for us. It just kept going and going.


Some weeks after our fight, I rushed into the Great Hall with pure elation. I couldn’t see Peter anywhere so I ran to where my friends were sitting at the Hufflepuff table and announced proudly,

“You are now looking at the newest permanent member of the Daily Prophet staff!” They all squealed and clapped for me; as my grin spread wider and wider. We celebrated for awhile at the table, but then I insisted that I had to go find Peter and tell him the news as well.

So I drifted up to the Gryffindor Common Room; hoping there would be someone to let me in. I managed to catch a girl that knew me before she went in; and she let me follow her. I found James and Remus sitting off to the side; immersed in a game of chess.

“Congratulations!” they shouted together, when I came up to them.

“You already know?” I inquired; sad that I didn’t get to tell the story of how Mr. Bailey told me I was best suited for the job. Haha Rita.

“Yeah, Elisa, a girl we know, must have overheard your conversation in the hall and let us know,” James replied casually.

“How long have you known,” I asked, suspiciously.

“A couple of hours, I guess,” Remus responded, taking out one of James’ rooks.

“So, Peter has known that long too I suppose,” I continued.

“I guess,” James said, shrugging. “Who cares?”

“He didn’t come to congratulate me,” I muttered, curling up my fingers into fists. “He knew how important this was to me. How could he not come and congratulate me. Or at least try and find me! Where is he?”

“I think,” Remus informed me. “That after he heard the news, he went out for a walk.”

“In the rain!?”

“Yeah, he said he had some things to think about.”

“So do I,” was my stiff reply. As I walked from the Common Room to the Entrance Hall…I realized that I felt like I was lugging some sort of weight with me. Something in my life wasn’t right at the moment. And I was pretty sure I knew what it was. It was raining pretty hard, but I spotted a black umbrella through the drops. I threw my robes over my head and rushed over to the umbrella; hoping it was Peter. When he turned to face me; I knew what I had to do. I had to get rid of this constricting feeling.

I was done. I was done feeling like this.

“We need to talk,” I murmured.

“Now?” he said, gesturing to the rain. He pulled me under his large umbrella and put it over the both of us; a satisfactory shelter.

“What?” he asked, wiping rain out of his eyes. He was impatient and wet. I let out a long side and chose my words very carefully.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I finally said.

“What?” His voice squeaked and I could feel my heart drop.

“Listen to me,” I continued. “At the beginning of this year we were on the same page. Our lives were connected. We made sense. Now, we’re moving in two completely different directions. Our relationship isn’t what it should be. All we do is fight, and I’m tired of hurting you, I’m so tired Peter. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I can’t live like this. I feel like we’re pushing each other away instead of getting closer. I don’t want to lose you completely. I’m scared that one day we’re going to hurt each other so much that we won’t be able to stand being near each other. You didn’t even come congratulate me after you heard I got the job!” I paused. “So I don’t think we should do this anymore. It doesn’t make sense anymore.” I spoke all of this very fast, and my heart was racing so fast I had to put a hand to my chest.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked, choking on his words. “We’ll lose each other if we break up.”

It hurt to talk. It hurt to think. It hurt just to be. This was really happening.

“This can’t feel right to you anymore,” I insisted weakly.

“I don’t care,” he said, and I could hear tears rising in his voice.

“I care,” I answered. “All we do is fight. And I…just…can’t.

“What does that matter?” he asked, grabbing my hands in his. “We have to keep going. I love you.” Tears streamed down my face, and my hand holding the umbrella got very shaky.

“I do love you Peter,” I answered, squeezing his hand. “But…this…it’s for the best. I’m so sorry.”

“So this is it then?” he asked, stiffly. His tears seemed to have disappeared. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer.

“Fine,” he muttered. He ripped the umbrella away and started to leave.

“Please don’t leave like this!” I cried, trying to grab him back. “Please don’t leave like this!” Peter paused.

“What do you want me to say?” he whispered, his back still to me.

“Say you’ll be okay,” I commanded shrilly.

“I can’t,” was the reply. And then he was consumed by the throngs of students as he walked away. My tears mixed with the rain flooding along my body. I couldn’t see him anymore.

He’ll understand. He will. I know he will understand. It will take time. I just need time. He needs time. Time. Time.

This decision seemed right at the time….but oh, the consequences. How could I have known then that everything was going to go to hell?


See? Not really a cliffhanger. Just a sad chapter all around. Just where is this story going? I can see that look in your eyes? What has she done? How can the story continue? It will continue. I promise there is more. I will not disappoint…hopefully. Glad you came as always. If you made it all the way down here, you might as well leave a review! You know you want to!

See you for chapter seventeen.