Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Last Marauder Standing
By: ChoCedric
I'm standing here alone, and honestly, I don't know how to feel. The truth is, I'm feeling a whole mixture of emotions at the moment, for I am now truly the last Marauder standing. Peter Marcus Pettigrew has fallen, literally killed by his own hand.
A part of my mind is saying: Remus, wasn't this what you wanted to happen all along? I remember that four years ago, Sirius and I were ready to kill him, until Harry stepped in and told us that James probably wouldn't have wanted Peter dead. We listened to Harry, but then Peter went and ran to You-Know-Who, and then, a year later, a promising young student by the name of Cedric Diggory was dead by his hand. I remember teaching Cedric, you know. He was in his fifth year when I taught him Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was so young, he had his whole life ahead of him, and it sickens me that Peter cut it short. He also really hurt Harry by cutting his arm, and above all, helped his master to return to power. So shouldn't I be glad he's dead?
But every time I think of Peter lying in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, having taken his last breath, memories swarm my mind of the young boy who befriended me at Hogwarts, the boy who was scared of his own shadow. He was even frightened to tell James, Sirius, and I what his name was when he first met us on the Hogwarts Express. He was so timid, and the three of us tried our best to boost his confidence.
The more I try to push these memories away, the more they come. I remember Peter sitting on the train, stuffing chocolate frogs into his mouth. That Peter was not the Peter who pointed a wand at a seventeen-year-old boy and incanted the killing curse. That Peter was not the Peter who betrayed James and Lily to their deaths, shut Sirius up in Azkaban, and left me cold and alone. It was so difficult to see the old Peter in the new Peter. It's easier to think of them as two different people.
But, my stubborn mind informs me, they were the same. I don't know what went wrong, there were no signs. Was he jealous of us Marauders? Did the man who helped his master return, was he really the boy who gently laughed with us, plotted pranks with us, worked tirelessly to become an Animagus for me, and prodded the knot of the Whomping Willow for us? There must have been a little bit of that Peter lingering in him, just that tiny little bit, that made him hesitate to hurt Harry in Malfoy Manor that day. I wish we could have seen the danger signs in those days, I would have reached out to help him, to make him understand that he was accepted among us, that even though we teased him and sometimes the others ridiculed him, we deeply cared for him.
At this present moment, I am alone at Peter's grave. A private funeral was held for him today, and I was one of the only people in attendance. Peter's mother was there too, and I know she's battling her own demons. She thought her son was a hero for years and years, valiantly battling the dangerous murderer and turncoat Sirius Black. But now she knows the truth, and her eyes looked haunted and glazed over at the service today. We barely said anything to each other, for neither of us can really put into words how we're feeling.
I remember how angry Sirius was four years ago, and that's how I knew how deeply he had cared for Peter. He took the betrayal so hard, you know. Peter was not Harry's godfather, or the best man at Lily and James's wedding, but we trusted him with our lives. That loving boy who showered us with praise, we never thought he'd hurt a fly or betray anybody. As I stand here by his grave, the millions of questions I have been continuously wondering about buzz through my head. How did the Death Eaters persuade him to join, or did he seek them out himself? Was he really so angry with us that he thought it was the right thing to do to turn his back on us, to teach us a lesson?
Part of me wants to say what Sirius would say right now, that I hope Peter gets what's coming to him in the afterlife. But the more forgiving part of my nature hopes for him to somehow find the peace he lacked on this Earth. I hope that if he, Sirius, James, and Lily are reunited now, the three of them can forgive him. I have a feeling that I will not be alive to see the war's end, but hopefully, I will join them too, and we can frolic and play like we used to.
Peter, wherever you are now, my old friend, I'm sorry that we couldn't do more for you. I never knew that you didn't feel accepted by us, that you didn't feel loved. I know I'm supposed to be glad that you're gone, but honestly, I'm not. I know that tonight, I will look through photo albums and I will see your happy, boyish face shining out from almost every picture. I hope that we can meet again, and you'll be the same Peter you were when I first met you, the Peter whose face lit up when we mentioned Quidditch, the Peter who begged Sirius, James, and I to raid the kitchens and find as much chocolate as we could.
I want you to know, Wormtail, that I forgive you for your sins, for I know James and Lily would want me to. Please know that our friendship meant more to me than I can ever express, and I hope that wherever you've gone off to, you're being taken care of. As I walk away from your grave today, Pete, a feeling of loss so strong consumes me that I almost choke on it - for now, I am truly the last Marauder standing, and it's the worst feeling in the world.