Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling.
A/N: Excited to unveil my first poem! Written for The Marauders' Seventh Year One Shot Competition, hosted by Quills & Parchment. It received the Judges' Honorable Mention and runner-up for Best Angst.
The Ballad of Peter Pettigrew
(Or, A Path His Own to Find)
A Marauder was he. The fourth
Of brothers in all but name.
His kin in magic, though not might;
It mattered not to them.
...
They were family, all the same.
One House of daring and valor,
A History great and
Full of Heroes, like Dumbledore.
...
For years, they were inseparable
From autumn until June.
One, a boy in the morning light
Turned monster in full moon.
...
Another, a playful human,
Oft changed to sign of doom.
A third whose love for making mess,
Tempered by his Lily bloom.
...
And then, there's Peter Pettigrew.
The one who always seemed
To be looked down by all.
The one who all had deemed
...
Too timid, and by far.
He cared not; since that day
The four were sorted in the Hall,
They'd seen each other through it all.
...
"I wonder what's in store for us,"
He wondered, during break.
They lounged among the grey slick rocks
On the shore of the Black Lake.
...
"Why so wistful?" Sirius asked,
A smirk painted on his face.
"We've still got one long week to go
And exams yet to ace."
...
"Leave him be. We know you're just as
Worried as the rest of us.
You talk about it in your sleep,"
Said Remus, always keeping peace.
...
"Quite right," quipped bespectacled James,
Leaning up against a tree.
His face was full of laughter
And his arms full of Lily.
...
"We're all a little scared of what
The future has in store.
Rumblings and rumors beyond the gates—
Let's take our cues from Dumbledore!"
...
Peter pursed his lips—said naught
As his mind went to that man
Whose blue eyes overlooked him
When he spoke to their clan.
...
"People missing overnight,
Most without a trace.
How can we make things better?"
Asked Lily, concern on her face.
...
Sirius grunted, "Please let's not
Talk 'bout the real world yet.
'Tis the tail end of our seventh year—
The fun, let's not forget!"
...
"All right, all right," they all relent,
For never could they stay
Blue or down with Padfoot around
To chase the gloom away.
...
"You'll get your chance," Remus said.
"Tonight is a full moon.
So go and get your rests, my friends,
You'll need your energy soon."
...
The lunar orb lit up the sky,
Bathed all in silver glow.
The castle slept, 'cept for Moony,
With his friends in tow.
...
Peter—so small—turned smaller still
And did his monthly job
Of getting past the violent tree
'Fore it crushed them into blobs.
...
Once inside the Shrieking Shack,
They lived up to its name.
Growl, yap, bark, bay,
All four were all but tame.
...
Hours passed and so they played
Well into the night.
Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, and he
Gave Sandman a good fight.
...
As the night had dwindled down
And they began to tire
Something had occurred right then
That put them in a mire.
...
The winds, that night, blew strong and fierce
(So common in the Highlands),
The Willow's wayward branches danced and
Swayed and swooshed a while, and
...
Then with a thunderous crash, a wall
Had splintered into bits!
The Willow whomped into the Shack
A hole with space to fit
...
A teenaged Werewolf with such ease
That said beast slipped right out!
The three rushed quickly after him
And ran full-speed, all-out!
...
Both Padfoot and Prongs chased him down,
Pumping legs, fore and hind—
While poor little Peter, the rat,
Had fallen far behind.
...
Peter stumbled to a stop near
The dark edge of the Forest.
Beyond, the creatures of the woods
Sang a frightful chorus
...
Of howls and growls and grunts and snarls.
The notes had struck a chord,
For never had he gone without
Protection from the horde.
...
And there he froze, much too afraid
To follow his friends' trail.
He could not move a single limb
Nor twitch his wormy tail;
...
Not when, beyond the woods, there lived
Such frightening Beings and Beasts
Would love to catch him unawares
And, from him, make a feast.
...
As he retreated, pedaling back
To safety of the Shack,
Grey robes, grey hair, grey beard flew past,
And followed his friends' tracks.
...
Dumbledore had zoomed past him
Without a second glance.
McGonagall, not far behind
Saw him, just by chance.
...
Her green eyes had locked on his—
Was she aware of who he is?
...
She kept him in her darkened sight,
Narrowed with derision.
She sneered at his cowering form
For his cowardly decision.
...
Both disappeared into the woods
In sure and quick pursuit.
Once he could see them not, he ran
To the opposite route.
...
He sped across the open field
To reach the slumbering school,
But just before he reached the doors,
He felt a craven fool.
...
And so, instead, he veered hard left—
Found somewhere he could lie
Among the shadows of the night
And be unseen, to spy.
...
He didn't need to wait long;
For as he settled in,
McGonagall and Dumbledore
Strode by with poor Lupin.
...
He looked to be unconscious.
Peter paused in wonder
If that was his friends' handiwork
Or if they put him under.
...
The Werewolf floated off the ground,
Behind the two adults.
Perhaps it mattered not who did—
It was the best result.
...
He turned his gaze whence they had come
To the Dark Forest's line.
His beady eyes could not discern
His friends beyond the pines.
...
Peter hoped they weren't discovered
During their midnight hunt.
Illegal Animagi form
Went beyond mere student stunt.
...
The thud-thud-thud of the Willow
Made him turn right back
To the student and the teachers
Now going near the Shack.
...
With a wide flourish of a wand,
He floated in without delay.
They fixed the damage in the wall.
The runaway was there to stay.
...
Dumbledore stalked back to the school,
Walked with determined strides,
Expression grim and drawn and pale,
McGonagall at his side.
...
They headed towards his hiding place!
He hunkered down lower,
But once they approached Peter's rock,
Their pace turned much slower.
...
Their voices carried in the air,
Now still, without a breeze.
And when they strolled closer,
He heard them both with ease.
...
"A close one," said McGonagall,
"Perhaps a bit too close.
It's good it happened very late
While everyone's a-doze."
...
"It's quite a stroke of luck," replied
The mindful Headmaster,
"That those two creatures, dog and stag,
Had reached him much faster."
...
McGonagall then pursed her lips.
"Oh, please don't act a fool!
You knew who those two really were—
Know ev'rything at this school!"
...
"I had suspected long ago,"
Admitted the old man.
"Though, I had thought there would be three;
Not just two of their clan."
...
"You must mean Peter Pettigrew,"
Said she, with bitter tone.
"I thought I saw him here tonight,
Just standing all alone
...
Instead of chasing down his friend
To make sure he was fine,
That Pettigrew refused to help
To save his own behind.
...
I saw him near the forest's edge,
Just out of danger's reach.
He'd turned away—I'd always say
That boy's just a damned leech!"
...
"Such strong words," muttered Dumbledore,
"And yet, I do agree
That Peter's not as Gryffindor
As the other three.
...
I had high hopes for him before,
Back in his first year.
I thought that with a little push
He'd fight through all his fears.
...
Alas! Despite his daring group,
He never did quite grow.
He's spent all seven years with us,
And nothing much to show.
...
But we need all our hands on deck
For the upcoming war,
While Peter may not be the best,
He's still a follower."
...
"That boy couldn't even follow
Friends when he could have helped!
I would rather not recruit him—
I just don't trust that whelp!"
...
Their voices were now fading;
They're much too far away.
And poor Peter, who'd been listening,
Felt sunk with such dismay.
...
He was aware his Head of House
Never truly liked him.
She'd always smile at his three friends
Then, to him, be so grim.
...
And, Dumbledore—it always seemed
Like he was just ignored.
But now, to hear him speak of plans,
For him and his own horde—
...
Such anger grew inside his chest!
It made his whiskers twitch—
For never had he felt abused
Than by that wizard and that witch!
...
A follower, they needed now?
A follower he'd be!
Oh, he'd make sure to follow them
To the fires of Hades!
...
His rodent nails dug in the ground—
His rage was at a peak!
He longed to yell and scream and shout,
But now could only squeak!
...
His creature-friends, they must have heard,
For only moments passed
'Til one black dog and one large stag
Had fin'lly shown at last.
...
Padfoot ran around the boulder,
With nuzzle, gave a nudge.
As Prongs, with his gentle hoof
Tried to get him to budge.
...
And, though they could not speak with words,
He knew what they would say:
Buck up, Wormtail! How can they know
That we're all family!
...
The four of us are not perfect;
We've all each got our faults.
Regardless of what happens now,
We'll see each other through it all.
...
And after those bolstering words,
All spoken without voice,
The two then headed to the Shack,
Thus giving him a choice.
...
Should he let them lead way again,
And he, just trail behind?
Or should he break, and forge ahead,
A path his own to find?
...
'Cause though he was a Marauder,
He and his friends three,
He knew if he stayed on this course,
A follower he'd always be.
...
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This was such a challenge for me, but it was a fun project, nevertheless! I hope you liked it! Reviews are appreciated :) Cheers!
Prompt: How does a boy, who was bound by a friendship so close he broke the law to support one of them, become the villain in his own story? Tell the tale of how Peter Pettigrew was lured by the dark, and took his first steps away from The Marauders.