Note: Post DH!Altered Universe
This was it. His master had fallen, and just like that, Peter realized that he had been on the wrong side of the war.
He was a man of self preservation, and after his life was threatened, Peter would do anything to make sure that his life had been secured. Not even thoughts of the Dark Lord somehow coming back could comfort him; he knew it wouldn't be true. Not this time.
Now that fear was placed in the wrong wizard. Damn it all had the Dark Lord actually won, then he wouldn't have to worry about the deep betrayal he had done to the 'light' side. He would constantly be looking over his shoulder as he had once before, but this had a different feeling. A feeling that if he had chosen different, he could have a different life.
Pfft, who was he kidding? Peter didn't have a spine to stand up for anything, so he took any chance he could to stay alive.
Besides, it's not like anyone was going to welcome him with open arms after everything he'd done. They'd soon give him the Dementor's Kiss before accepting him back into society.
Which is how Peter found himself sticking to the shadows like the vermin he was, scouring for food in the trash in the alleys and running when he sensed any type of danger.
This life was scarier than living amongst the Dark Lord in Malfoy Manor where the whispers and Dark Arts pulsed through the walls. He didn't think he could make it in this life, but he was afraid of what would be his demise.
Would he die alone as a rat? Would he die violently from some other beggar trying to take whatever he had? Would anyone come to his rescue?
At the very least, Peter knew the answer to the latter. Or he thought he knew.
A storm was on the rise, and Peter would have to hurry to find an alley that could protect him from the cold rain and harsh winds.
Except that he didn't. He slipped during his scurrying to another clear alley and knocked himself out. The rain drenched his entire body, and he could have died from the cold. Luckily for Peter, someone with a strong spine stumbled upon him and took him in for the night.
When Peter woke up, he was surrounded by warmth, more warmth than he had felt in quite some time. That was not a good thing, because that meant he was somewhere he shouldn't be.
He sat up quickly, bunching the blankets that were wrapped around his body as if they would disappear in the blink of an eye. He scanned the area around him, and noticed the homey atmosphere it brought.
It wasn't fancy by any means, and he couldn't help but think he had been there before…
No.
Peter had to get out of there now. He couldn't be here; his life would surely come to an end if he didn't. Peter didn't survive this long to just die in the home he spent his life as a rat in.
"You're going to need a bath soon," came the voice of Molly Weasley entering the room.
Panic seized through Peter's entire body at the sight of the woman. No doubt she would kill him where he stood, well, laid. He could just see her using that plate of breads to smash him into smithereens.
Wait, she was holding a plate of breads.
"You've lost a great deal of weight, Peter," she continued, "so you're going to need some food to get you going."
Without saying another word, Molly gave him a nod and turned to leave.
It was odd seeing her again. The last time he had seen Molly Weasley was when she killed Bellatrix (something he'd never have the guts to do; Bellatrix was a scary woman with or without a wand). There were more wrinkles on her face, no doubt from age and stress. There was a hardness in her eyes that showed that she had gone through something that wouldn't be wished upon anyone.
Except for vermin like him.
Peter reached a hand out as if to stop her and opened his mouth. Nothing but a squeak came from him at first, but it did catch her attention. Molly turned around and clasped her hands together.
"Yes, dear?" she asked.
"I…" Peter squeaked out before clearing his throat. "How could you do this for me, after everything I've done?" he asked. Peter had to know how this woman was capable of being… who she was after so much had happened.
"You're a traitor," she said. "A coward as well. But there's still a heart beating inside of you, and my heart can't allow even vermin like you to die on the streets."
Peter flinched. He expected the insult, but the bitterness that was laced within it made it sting just a little bit more. Peter was having a hard time figuring out why it affected him so much.
"I don't deserve such kindness," he said. "Especially from you."
The smile Molly gave seemed forced, yet still projected a loving nature. "You're right, but I wouldn't be who I am if I acted like the darker people in this world. Arthur wouldn't want that."
Throwing the name out there caused Peter to realize that Arthur was in fact not around in the Burrow. He hadn't seen any of the other Weasley's roaming about like he used to in his animagus form, either.
"They're not here," Molly said. "None of them are here. They couldn't bare staying after losing…" she gripped the mantle tightly. "...losing a brother and their father. Unfortunately, I couldn't leave my home behind."
Peter didn't know what to say. He knew the impact of a family breaking apart; he had firsthand experience with doing that after all. And it wouldn't be right to comfort the woman because he was to blame for this as well.
"This room should be familiar to you," she added.
He nodded stiffly. "I do."
Molly took a deep breath and released it; her tight smile returned. "Yes, well, you should get cleaned up before you make a mess of things just by walking around. You should remember your way around given my son carried you practically everywhere." She left without another word.
Peter flinched once more. He would have pressed the issue if there wasn't free room and board offered to him. He'd have done just about anything to have the luxuries he's been granted, so it was best to keep quiet while she was still providing it.
He silently shuffled out of the room he used to stay in as Scabbers, finding the washroom easier than he anticipated. Perhaps he had been with the Weasley boy longer than he realized.
As soon as his face was in the reflection of a mirror, Peter grimaced. He was definitely worse for wear. His body was covered in a grime; he must have been nose blind of the smell from having it cling to his body for so long.
The hair that he did still have (the stringy, thin mess that it was) clung to the side of his face. He had lost a tremendous amount of weight just as Molly had said; he was no longer the plump traitor and servant to the Dark Lord.
He was simply vermin and scum to the earth.
The overwhelming smell of something being baked woke the senses in Peter, especially since the initial shock of things caused him to neglect the bread she previously brought him.
Following the smell, Peter found Molly in the kitchen clearly in her element as ingredients flew around, preparing a meal he didn't deserve.
"You truly are a remarkable witch," he said, scratching his cheek. The clean feeling was still hard to imagine in that moment.
"Flattery doesn't suit you, Peter," Molly remarked. "But thank you for the compliment."
She gestured for him to have a seat at the table, which he had no problem with. His stomach was navigating him the whole way. Once he was seated, Peter moved his hands from the top of the table to his lap, feeling a sense of anxiety.
"Thank you for the clothes, Molly."
"They're Arthur's. He'd want them put to good use other than sitting in the dressers."
A silence spread between them quickly, and it didn't sit well with Peter. He had to say something before it was too late.
"Might I confess something?" he said suddenly.
"Go on, Peter," she responded.
"I am a coward," Peter said. "A lowly ray who did unspeakable things and only wanted to survive. I would take it back if I could… but I can't." He hung his head. "I… I am sorry for what I've done to you and everyone else."
Molly didn't respond right away, so she had to be thinking of the right response.
"You're not vermin any longer, Peter. You're human, and you made a mistake. A grave mistake."
Peter waited for her to kick him out, but she didn't. Instead, Molly fed him and took care of him throughout the day. He'd take that as an acceptance of his apology, hoping that it was one of the first.
"Thank you again, Molly," he said finally after swallowing the lump that formed in his throat. He wanted to be strong and hold back the grateful tears that fell. He felt like a fool.
Molly paid it no mind, only offering him a handkerchief silently. Her maternal instincts were strong, and Peter was very much grateful for her stumbling upon him in that alley.
A/N: Written for HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)
Assignment #9 Religious Education Task 6 - write about someone performing a good deed because it's the right thing to do.
Ami's Audio Admiration: Old School - (word) traitor
Crafty Cooking Cocktail: Flour - (action) baking, (character) Molly Weasley
National Photography Month: Monochrome Photography - a person who is quite downcast or depressed.
Going, Going, Gone House Challenge: (character) Peter Pettigrew
Word Count: 1,615