Scabbers
Five-year-old Percy Weasley shrieked with joy as he raced around the yard, tossing gnomes. Gnomes were little potato-like creatures with legs that dug holes, pulled up the roots of plants and generally made a mess of wizarding gardens. They had to be removed by catching them by the ankles, swinging them about to disorient them, then tossing them out of the garden. Gnomes weren't very bright and when they heard the noise of de-gnoming, all of them would come out of their holes, making them easier to catch and throw.
Percy loved de-noming and his three-year-old twin brothers, Fred and George were valiantly trying to follow in his footsteps, but couldn't toss the gnomes that far and the creatures landed still in the garden and had to be chased around.
Percy had just tossed a gnome out of the garden when he heard a squeak behind him. He turned to see a brown rat standing up on its hind legs and looking at him. Its nose wriggled.
"Hey now, what are you doing in the garden?" Percy asked the rat, who dropped down and moved a bit closer before standing up again, squeaking at him.
"Are you trying to talk to me?" Percy asked the rat.
"What's that?" George and Fred asked Percy in unison.
"A rat. It's smart. It's trying to talk to me," Percy said, crouching and holding out his hand.
The rat ambled up, sniffed his fingers and climbed into his hand. Percy slowly stood up, petting it.
"Careful. It might bite you," Fred said, looking at the long front teeth.
"He's tame, can't you see that? He must be a familiar. A real rat would have run away. Come on. I want to show mum," Percy said, walking slowly toward the house, trailed by Fred and George.
Molly Weasley was in the house baking meat pies, and pregnant. Ron was seated securely in a high chair with the help of a sticking spell. He had porridge in his red hair and squished through his fingers. Quite a bit of it made it to his mouth. Her oldest son Bill was out with his younger brother Charlie trapping and releasing creatures. They loved animals, particularly wild ones.
"Mum! Mum! See what Percy has!" Fred and George sang out, running in on their short little legs and beating their brother to the point. Molly stopped rolling out the round of dough on the kitchen table, wiped her hands on her apron then brushed back her hair as Percy walked in.
"Now, what are you going on about—arrrgh!" she shrieked as she saw Percy carrying a rat. "Percy Weasley, you get that rat out of my kitchen this instant. They're full of germs! They nearly wiped out Europe, you know!"
"Mum, this isn't an ordinary rat. I think he's a familiar. Look how tame he is. He just walked up and climbed into my hand," Percy told her, petting the rat, who wriggled his nose at Molly.
"Can I keep him, mum? He doesn't bite, see? I've always wanted a familiar, but dad said—"
Percy's voice dropped a bit. He didn't want to remind his mum how tight things were and how poor they were.
"He said I—I just couldn't have one but he wished I could," he finished. "Now, I've found one. I'm sure he doesn't belong to anyone, mum. Please. Can I have him?"
Molly blinked at the rat and the hopeful look in her son's eyes. He didn't often get what he wanted. They couldn't afford a lot of things with six children and Arthur the only breadwinner. The rat looked rather rough and its fur was matty, but a bath might help it look more presentable.
"Well, clean it up, Percy and we'll ask your father when he comes home from work. But you have to bathe it well. I can't have a filthy animal running around the Burrow."
Percy beamed at her as the twins jumped up and down in delight.
"Thanks, mum!" he exclaimed, running through the house and to the bathroom. He plugged up the sink and filled it with warm water.
"I have to bathe you if you want to stay," he told the rat, who squeaked back at him. It was docile as Percy soaped it up and carefully washed it, getting all the mats out.
"Get behind his ears," George piped up, echoing his mum's constant admonition.
Percy carefully toweled the rat off, then held him up.
"He looks better," the boy observed. The twins nodded enthusiastically.
The rat wriggled his nose as it looked at itself in the mirror. It let out a squeak of agreement.
When Arthur came home and was introduced to the rat, he studied it as it stood up on the small living room coffee table and studied him back, nose a-wriggle. Percy, Charlie and the twins stood nearby, looking expectant.
"It's a very handsome rat," Arthur said. "Very clean animal."
"Oh yes, and he'll stay clean, dad. I promise. Please can I keep him?" Percy asked.
Arthur looked at Molly, who gave him a smile and nodded slightly.
He looked back at Percy.
"Very well. But keep him out of your mother's kitchen," he told Percy, who let out a whoop of joy. So did the twins. Bill and Charlie just smiled a little as Percy put the rat on his shoulder. Ron kept trying to toddle over to the rat, fascinated by the worm-like tail.
"What are you going to call him, Percy?" Bill inquired, staring at the rodent. It wasn't a common familiar because most people despised rats.
"Scabbers."
"Scabbers? What kind of name is that?" Charlie asked him, his freckled face contorted in distaste. Scabbers? Ew.
"Well, it's the noise his claws made when he tried to hold on to the side of the sink. It was a scabbering noise."
Arthur smiled at Molly. Percy meant to say a scrabbling noise. But he was only five and got the word wrong.
"I think it's a perfectly darling name, Percy. Give Scabbers a bit of bread and cheese and take him up to your room. You have to clean up after him too. I don't want pellets all over the house."
"He won't do that, mum. He's a familiar. I'll fix him a place to go. He'll do it."
Molly shook her head. Percy believed the rat could do anything.
"All right, but still, watch out. If he leaves them around the Burrow, he's going to have to go."
Percy promised the house would be pellet free. Molly gave him a bit of bread and cheese for the rat, and Percy took Scabbers upstairs to his room, followed by Fred and George.
The rat looked back at Molly and Arthur, its beady little eyes glittering as it rode on Percy's shoulder.
It had found the perfect place to hide, right under the nose of everyone. No more scraping about for food and hiding from predators. He'd have food to eat, a warm place to sleep and be cared for the rest of his days.
If Peter Pettigrew had to live out his life as a rat, this was as good as it got.
A/N: I was watching The Prisoner of Azkaban and as you know, Scabber's secret is revealed that he's really Peter Pettigrew. I wondered how he came to be with the Weasleys, so did a little research on the timeline and figured he came to Percy when he was five years old. So I wrote this little one-shot piece as I imagined how he joined the Weasley family. Thanks for reading.
A/N: I had messed up the timeline of the Weasleys horribly. My math sucks. Luckily, the readers are great with timelines and I was able to fix it up to read properly. Thanks, T* and C* and the rest of y'all.