Peter couldn't sit still. It could be the horrible amounts of caffeine in his blood, the fact that three muggle girls talking loudly and sharing fries and milkshakes just behind him. One of them, a skinny, petite blonde would glance over at him and smile. She was cute, and Peter would normally feel shaky and shy, knocking things over and making awkward eye contact. But Peter only noticed her when the group first walked in.

Peter picked up another coffee creamer and added it to his growing pyramid of cream. His mother always chided his constant jitters, how he would wring clothes between his hands, tug at her grass, and chew his lips bloody. The last time she saw him she chided him on his wrinkled dress shirt. Sitting up from her bed and motioning him over with a focused glare, she tugged and adjusted, making Peter squat so she could reach ever inch.

"How can you be a man when I'm treating you like a boy?" she sighed when he said his job search wasn't going well, how James had to loan more money to him. And that hurt. Peter was always disappointing her, he wasn't that smart, couldn't hold a conversation, and wasn't physically strong.

"Sorry," he muttered, clearing her bedside table, messing with the papers. His mother stopped him and forced him to sit down on the foot of the bed, asking about the most mundane details her eyes lighting up as she learned more about the most boring aspects of his life.

That was months ago. Because later that night Deatheaters were waiting in his home, the Dark Lord wanted access to Sirius Black. Imagine their joy when Peter confessed he was the Secret Keeper. They hardly touched him, a few burning curses and he sobbed out everything. They didn't even have to touch his family or place a Cruciatus. Merlin, how could he face his mother when he was such a weak mess?

And now he couldn't even focus on the fact that he had sentenced James and Lily to death, he could never focus it was why he was such a mess. The Dark Lord said he would offer them salvation, but James and Lily were never going to step aside, they would fight, and they would die. They were so strong, and Peter should only focus on them, how he betrayed them, how strong they were.

When he reached out to take another sip of his coffee, he saw the disgusting brand on him, twisted and dark. A traitor's symbol. A shudder went through him, and then another. Tears ran down his face and he used his other hand to grab it, holding it still. He was never going to be a productive person, someone his mother could be proud of. He was a weak, selfish, and didn't deserve to be standing on this planet.

If he was strong, then he would be dead now, standing up to the Death Eaters and spitting in their pale faces. He could have kept his mouth shut. He could have tried harder, been smarter, more charismatic. He could have been more.

Although the Potter house was visited by two wizarding men hours after the tragedy struck it took only hours for the more oblivious muggle news to catch on. Godric's Hollow was a trans-muggle neighborhood, with only a few muggle repelling charms around the wizarding sections. The Fidelius had erased the idea of the house from the public but when Lily and James Potter died, so did the wards that surrounded the house, as torn and weak from the Dark Lord's attack they were. And those wards were what the Fidelius was attached to.

It's hard to miss a fairly large house springing into being as you walk by it. Even by , a fairly elderly muggle lady out for an early morning walk.

But that alone wouldn't bother her much,her mind was muddled by muggle repelling charms, so with a shrug, she finished walking her retriever Missy and went back home briefly wondering how she forgot about the Potters.

An hour later her husband was taking out the trash at her request, he too looked up at the house and frowned. He was a slightly sharper man( enjoying crosswords and puzzles well into his retirement). Mr. Douglas was more alarmed that he forgot the young couple than self chiding so he stared at the house for a solid minute.

Now if he had shrugged and blamed his faulty memory on the chaos of the recent weeks and went back in he would have never heard one distinct sound: the piercing screams of a baby. But he didn't go back in so he did hear that sound. He moved closer, craning his ears to see if he could hear any attempts to clam the baby, he couldn't. So Mr. Douglas crossed the street and listened another few minutes.

The screams got louder.

The fear of a hurt baby made his warring politeness be pushed aside as he pushed open the gate, noting that it was undone, and made his way up to the door.

He knocked.

"Excuse me, James, Lily is everything all right?" he called, knocking again for good measure. He heard nothing, despite the fact he had pushed his ear to the hardwood door.

"James! Lily! Harry is crying!" he shouted a bit angrier, they were young and the idea that they might have left Harry alone for a bit or were just ignoring the babies screams made him grit his teeth.

He tried the knob, feeling it give and the wood stick a little as he pushed it open stepping in cautiously.

A second later he stepped out and slowly closed the door, he took a deep breath and moved back to his home his destination: the phone.

Abby Sealah worked with Howard Stark, she managed his appointments, handled the basic media influence, and in general was his to go person. When he and Maria died, Abby became Tony's assistant. Tony was very different from his father, he was rash, and lashed out constantly. Every day Tony walked there was a problem, she had to soothe angry lovers, bribe offended supporters and generally try to convince the media that Tony Stark was a misguided genius and not a raging ticking time bomb.

She was exhausted and close to quitting. And now Tony was found blacked out in the middle of a crime scene, where a young couple was murdered. At first, people thought he murdered them, then the British police concluded that he was not able to stay awake at the time, that he couldn't have murdered them much less have made it to the toilet.

But people talked, they always did.

And Abby was trying to control that talk, contain it, redirect it. But her client wouldn't listen to her or even help her.

"All you need to do is go on Des O'Connor Tonight, talk about how horrible it is that two lives have been cut short. How you are working with the police in order to catch the killer, and bring them to justice." Abby sighed, trying to grab the attention of Tony.

"No, I'm not going to make a show of their death," Tony mumbled scooping jello into his mouth, "That's not honoring them."

"It's not a show, it's assuring the public that you didn't murder anyone." Abby clipped out grabbing the jello and slamming it down 'Which we wouldn't have to do if you didn't go bar bouncing. We would have not been part of this if you stayed in your hotel."

Tony ignored her, instead of tugging at his I.V line.

Abby got up and left the room. She was going to have to call people, drug Tony, but she had to keep Stark Industries up and going until she could quit.

Here we go.

Should I delete the other chapters?