Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters all belong to JK Rowling. I'm just...borrowing them for this story. All hail the Queen JK Rowling!

***Sorry, just made some corrections that I missed while writing and proofing this. Thanks to PrincessPeanutButtercup for the sharp eyes (must not proof read while sleepy!). Also, changed the title, because I plan on doing something like this for other characters as well***


The platform was filled with students and their families. He nervously looked around, not seeing anyone he could call a friend. This was it. His first year at Hogwarts. Excitement in the air for most, he was just terrified. Afraid of being alone, being left out, not belonging.

He encountered two boys in a compartment. Both with jet black hair. One with grey eyes, the other with hazel. They both exuded an air of confidence, as though they knew that they will be at the apex of the social order. Again, the feelings of inadequacy, of not being good enough, returned loudly in his mind.

Now, the moment of truth. Where did he belong here? The Sorting Hat debated on where to place him. Not in Ravenclaw, because he just did not belong there. He flat out refused Hufflepuff. Why would he want to be in the house most commonly dismissed amongst the other houses? Even though he probably would've benefited from being around members of that house, he still refused. He wanted to be different, to not be the scared, insecure boy he's been for eleven years.

The hat contemplated Slytherin. The boy got nervous. Oh, the hat saw all, and it was all there in his mind. Maybe not as ambitious, but an undetected trait of cunning, the ability to learn secrets and hold them until they're useful. Yes, he would do well in Slytherin.

But he refused. Everyone knew that the bad witches and wizards came from Slytherin. And he's not bad. How could he be? No, Slytherin house would not do.

Ah...Gryffindor. The house of bravery. This is the house he desired. Nevermind the fact that he has not felt brave in his life. Nevermind that another house was a better fit. No. This was the house to be in, the house where he could reinvent himself into something more brave, more daring. Besides, one of the boys from the train was now in Gryffindor. And the other one, perhaps? Maybe he could learn how to be confident from them, to be a new him.

Yes, Gryffindor or bust.

The hat begrudgingly acquiesed to his demand. The familiar cry of "GRYFFINDOR!" rang out as Peter Pettigrew got up from the stool and made his way to his house's table. Yes. This was a new beginning, indeed.


Author's Note: I know that Pettigrew is not exactly the most liked or symphathetic character in the Harry Potter universe. But after reading A LOT of fanfics, I started wondering what drove him to turn into a Death Eater. This story is my attempt at explaining (but not dismissing!) the motivation and understanding how the cogs in his mind turned.