"So it's our fault," James said, his voice hard. "That's what you're saying."
He didn't know what he'd expected Peter to say, but being blamed for being betrayed to his own death-- to the death of his wife and the incarceration of his best friend-- was unbelievable. Especially when he knew, he knew that none of them would have ever betrayed Peter or tossed him aside. Well, he had thought the same of Peter before arriving here, so that wasn't saying much. But he knew that he would never have done anything to Peter, and that should have been enough.
"I never would have tossed you aside, Pete," he said, simultaneously more angry, more hurt, and more sad than he'd ever been in his life. "I promised too, remember? If you listened to the Death Eaters-- if you really thought any of them could be more trustworthy than any of us-- that's on you, and them. It's their fault that they tried to use you against us, but it's your fault that it worked. It never would have worked on me."
He threw up his hands in disgust. "And now I don't know what to do, Pete. Because you aren't the friend I thought you were, even now. I don't want you dead, but I don't know how to trust you, either."