Not all stories have to be about the heroes. I've noticed that Peter is usually left out or right away pegged as the bad guy. I felt as if I needed to write this, as if it was the challenge I was looking for. Even though it's not finished yet, I think I've finally found my muse again.

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Harry Potter. The only people in this story who are mine are Peter's family members. All else belong to J.K. Rowling. However, I wrote the sorting hat song.

A Rat's Tale:

The Beginning

Of course, you all have me pegged as the bad guy. I gave my friends to Voldemort and then dumped one of them in Azkaban. I'm a bastard and I know it. I do deserve the names that you call me, the things that you say about me, the ways that you just ignore me, but if you knew the whole story, maybe you wouldn't be so quick to judge me.

My story begins all those years ago on the Hogwarts Express. I can remember being terrified at the prospect of walking through the magical barrier between platforms nineteen and twenty. The majority of people on the other side of the barrier were going to know what they were doing. They were going to know what a charm was and how to transfigure a match into a needle. Although I was a pure-blood, I hadn't shown any magic ability until I was almost eight years old. My parents had spent the first five years of their marriage after I was born arguing about what to do with me if I was a Squib, then spent the next three in the court room arguing over who had to have custody over me. One day during one of their worse fights I had made a plate of glass in the window disappear and reappear in front of me, blocking out their angry words. They then quickly solved their dispute by a joint-custody proposal, but neither was especially nice to me until I got my Hogwarts letter when I was eleven.

So anyway, there I was. I was standing in front of the magical barrier, my mother impatiently tapping her foot next to me. I could tell that she was just thrilled to get rid of me and go home and focus on my new stepfather and my half-sister, who unlike me, had shown that she could perform magic since she was two. My trunk sat on the cart next to me. My mother grabbed me and the cart and pushed us both through the barrier. An experience that was supposed to stay with me for the rest of my life was ruined by the scolding I received for wasting my mother's time.

Normally a scolding like this would be very embarrassing and I would be reduced to tears almost immediately. However, this particular scolding hadn't gotten through to me. I had spotted a group of boys hanging around with their parents. In another corner, there was a terrified red-haired girl standing with her equally terrified parents. I had taken one look at her and labeled her a Muggle-born--not that that was a problem or anything.

"…you better stay for the Christmas holiday this year Peter. Your stepfather, sister, and I are going to the states and I know that your father will be busy…" my mother trailed off once again and I continued to ignore her. However, I had caught that one sentence. I guess my parents were going back into their normal bickering state about who had to keep me over the holiday breaks. Now they wouldn't have to worry anymore though. They were just going to dump me here. But for once, I didn't care. The excitement was starting to mount. This was Hogwarts. I had been waiting for this all summer.

"Peter? Peter? The train is about to leave. We'd better get your trunk on board." My mother then swept me up into a hug, a very rare thing for her to do. She helped me drag my trunk onto the train and then turned on her heel and left without a goodbye. I guess the hug that she gave me had pushed her to her limits. It didn't really bother me though, I was used to it by now. I slowly dragged my trunk down to an empty compartment and heaved it inside, pausing to slowly catch my breath. I walked over to the window and pressed my face against it. My mother was already gone.

The noise level around me was growing as more and more people got onto the train and herded into the unoccupied compartments. Nobody entered mine. They kept on walking by it, peering through the door. I know what they were thinking. Poor little fat boy, mother didn't even say goodbye to him. They'd thought it before. But like I said earlier--I was used to it. I opened my trunk and got out my copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and began to read. It didn't bother me that I was alone in my compartment, I actually liked it like that. Everything would be nice and quiet and I could read about my favorite sport even though my father said I could never play.

The next thing I knew, they came in. They didn't even knock on the glass door or ask my permission to sit down. They simply dragged their trunks in and stored them under the seat. I was about ready to ask them to leave when the taller of the two black-haired boys stuck his hand in my direction and announced, "Hello, I'm James Potter."

It would have been rude to ignore a gesture like that. My mother had done it so many times and I remembered every single one of them. I put my book on the seat next to me, grabbed James' hand and looked made eye contact with him. "Hi, I'm Peter Pettigrew."

"And I," announced the other boy with a dramatic tone to his voice, "am Sirius Black." The tone of his voice, the way he held himself, everything about him screamed look at me! He obviously was used to being the center of attention and not having to almost beg his mother to look at him. For a moment, I felt a twinge of jealousy through my body. I quickly pushed it aside as James struck up a conversation about Quidditch. For the rest of the train ride they sat with me and I occasionally commenting on this or that.

When we finally arrived at Hogwarts, I was surprised to hear a voice calling the first years off the train. Nobody had warned me about a special trip across the lake. My father had made a few well-placed comments about the giant squid and what it would do to me if I fell into the water. Therefore when I heard that I had to cross the lake with the giant squid in it, I almost hid in my trunk. James and Sirius, by now tired with my non-existent social skills, had run ahead and already jumped into one of the boats and had begun the first water fight of the school year. They had invaded the boat of a ragged looking boy with light brown hair. After drenching him, James began to wave at somebody. After looking around me several times, I realized that he was waving at me. I walked over and sat down in their boat and promptly was soaked by Sirius. For some reason, I didn't really care.

After a few incidents with tipping other boats and teasing the giant squid, we arrived at the school. A strict looking woman met us by the door and introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. She led us off to a big door and explained that on the other side we would be sorted into our houses. She then pulled James and Sirius aside for a few moments. Sirius came back with a huge grin on his face, proclaiming that he and James had become the only students to ever receive a detention before the sorting feast. I tried to grin, but once again my nervousness of the next task was starting to get to me. My mother had explained that to get sorted in order to get sorted into a good house you had to be strong and brave and loyal and then had promptly told me that I was none of those. I watched as Professor McGonagall pushed open the door and led us through the middle of a huge room filled with lights. At the very front was a stool with a beat-up hat on it. Sirius then became the first student ever to receive two detentions before being sorted.

After the hat was returned to its stool, the large rip on the top opened to reveal a make-shift mouth. I then realized that all I had to do was try on the hat, and it would sort me into a house. When the hat started to sing, I think I was the most surprised of everybody in the group of first years.

Every hat has its story, as do I

I belonged to a king, a duke, and a sire.

I sorted the thoughts of one poor man's head

And then watched as he wearily strode off to bed.

Now I am here to tell you where to go

Which house you belong to, I will know

If you belong in Gryffindor, where you will be brave

Daring and nerve are qualities to crave.

You might be a Hufflepuff, loyal at heart

Patience and just will give you a start.

A Ravenclaw is the wisest of wise

Wit and learning replace telling lies.

You might be a Slytherin, cunning folk

True friends you'll make, this isn't a joke.

Now that you're sorted and your house has been made

Be kind to others and don't be afraid.

The song surprised me, just as everything else had that day so far. None of the qualities listed sounded quite like me so far. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe Hogwarts wasn't right for me and I was really the worthless piece of shit.

" Black, Sirius!"

I didn't deserve to be here, I was going to grow up and be worthless, just as she always said I would be.

"Gryffindor!"

My father was right too. They should have just dumped me on my grandparents when they had had the chance.

" Diggory, Amos!"

Even with my grandparents I would have been a failure. That's why they wouldn't take me in.

"Hufflepuff!"

Why didn't they ever trust me?

" Lupin, Remus!"

Why was I such a failure? Why couldn't they have even tried to be nice to me?

"Gryffindor!"

They always told me that I would amount to nothing. Were they right?

"Pettigrew, Peter!"

Why don't they love me?

"Gryffindor!"

Would they be proud of me now?