DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter, its publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made for this. No copyright infringement is intended.


TITLE: Peter Through The Ages

AUTHOR: Relala

BETA: lady of scarlet

FANDOM STATUS: Canon

SPOILERS: For Deathly Hallows

WARNING: Character Death (You probably guessed that, though, didn't you?)


"his own silver fingers were moving inexorably towards his own throat"

- "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" by JKR


GOLDEN AGE

The world flies by in swirls of golden coloured bliss.

When Peter arrives at the little wand shop, an eleven-year-old Muggle-born who thinks that this is all some kind of bizarre dream, and finally gets chosen by a wand, he swishes the thing around with a flick of his hand and is delighted to find that golden sparks fly from its tip with ease. Golden light illuminates the shop. From his fingertips to his shoulder he can feel a pulsing warmth and it's almost as if the sun has been pulled down into his body.

The Sorting Hat puts him in Gryffindor and the next day he wakes up to find robes of blazing scarlet fire and glittering golden stripes laying across his bed. They look nothing like the pasty yellow he imagined they would. From then on he wears his scarlet and gold with pride, head held high even though he is nothing more than scum to these people.

Remus Lupin notices him the next day and invites him to come outside with their two roommates, James Potter and Sirius Black. We're going to live together for the next seven years of our lives ,Remus informs him, we should know each other.

Peter walks onto the grounds, stepping upon the leaves of reds and yellows and browns, and finds his two other roomies laughing on the entrance steps.

And every note they laugh is as golden and brilliant as the sun.


SILVER AGE

The colour of silver has been mentioned in every single myth, in every bedtime story, that Peter Pettigrew has heard since he was a child.

Silver was the colour of the moonlight, which shone down into the moor and lit the way for the helpless damsel, and it was the colour of the noble knight's armour when he came to rescue her from the danger.

The colour of silver was eternally seen as beautiful. The lakes all glittered silver under the blackness of the night sky in the myths, and the sword of justice, when raised high in the air, looking like death itself sharpened to an edge, was silver in the sunlight. The cold stars in the sky were the silver beacons which guided the newly dead into the afterlife.

Yet now, as his own silver fingers were moving inexorably towards his own throat, Peter Pettigrew didn't quite believe in those stories. There weren't any knights in shining armour who would swoop down on the wings of Pegasus to save him with their swords.

James and Sirius are dead, he thinks, and Sleeping Beauty will be asleep forever underneath the ground where Prince Not-So-Charming cannot reach her, her red hair faded into grey dust and her eye sockets full of cobwebs and spiders.

Silver is the colour of death as his eyes roll back.

THE END


AUTHOR'S NOTE: The title of this Fic is a play on "Quidditch Through The Ages." Congratulations if you noticed that and if you understand the historical references to the Golden Age (the first age of the world in classical mythology, characterized by idyllic happiness and innocence) and the Silver Age (in mythology, the epoch following the Golden Age that was characterized by a refusal to serve the gods and a love of luxury.) And, as most of us HP fans know, Peter died because he refused to serve his lord and showed a moment of mercy to Harry.