"Left! Right! The pipe along! I have to be far away before the ministry officials come" is all I can think of as I run through the sewers in my animagus form. My life just made a 180° turn.
Two days ago my former best friend James and his wife Lily died, because I betrayed them to the Dark Lord. Now I flee from the place where my other 'friend' stands surrounded with bodies. They are going to bring him to Azkaban because everyone thinks that he killed twelve innocent muggles and me.
The truth is that I am responsible for the murders and for the fact that they think Sirius Black is a mass murderer.
I know it sounds heartless but James, Lily and Sirius had it coming. For eleven years my supposedly best friends made fun of me and always reminded me that I was the only Marauder who wasn't a genius like the oh so perfect Remus, James and Sirius.
The people thought I was an idiot, in comparison with the others. If anyone remembered there was a fourth member in the group of proud pranksters, the inconspicuous, unimportant Peter Pettigrew. Me.
But now everything changed, from this day forward the wizards and witches will think of me as a hero, the brave Peter, who risked his life to stand up to one of the most dangerous Death Eater to avenge his friends. Finally I'll get the appreciation I deserve. I'll have a good life as the most important of the Dark Lord's supporter. He won thanks to me and he's going to reward me highly!
In only a few day's time Sirius will be stuck in Azkaban and Remus alone at home, a poor and devastated werewolf, without a job or friends. Who knows, maybe he'll even commit suicide, he doesn't have any reason to live anymore, let alone the money needed for survival. I don't care about him; this is entirely his own fault.
Now the table has turned and I'm the one who can laugh at the suspense of his friends.
The Death Eaters will knee at my feet in awe while the wizarding world cries over my death and praises my name. My life can't get any better. Comforted by the thought, I lie down on a pile of leaves and am soon asleep.
Rested and full of anticipation of my new life I wake up the next morning. It's after noon as I slowly begin to search for breakfast. As a rat I can slip in everywhere and take whatever I want.
A few beignets later I go on to the headquarters of the Death Eaters, a content smile on my lips. To make my good mood even better I decide to check if the Daily Prophet has already published my deeds.
On the window sill of a small house sits an owl, the paper tied to its foot. I transform and end the knocking on the window with one simple hand movement. The animal is dead immediately.
I untie the Prophet and the owl falls to the ground with a broken neck. But as soon as I read the head line, the paper slips out of my hands and lands next to the dead owl.
'YOU-KNOW-WHO DEAD AT LAST'. I don't have to read on, the head line is information enough. One short sentence has destroyed my dreams of a better life. Without our master the dark side doesn't stand a chance.
All my friends think I'm dead and the Death Eaters would hold me responsible for our Lord's death, should they ever find out that I'm alive. They'd kill me immediately.
Fortunately I didn't apparate, as I had planned, this walk saved my life. Or what is left of it.
Doubt enters my thoughts and mixes with the self-pity. Was it really a good idea to join the Dark Lord? He had seemed so strong and invincible, how could he have died so easily? Did I misjudge him so much? No, it had been the right decision. Everything is better than a life with the other Marauders and their permanent teasing.
But what if they'd only joked? Maybe I was too serious... It doesn't matter, I can't return to that life.
Depressed I transform into Wormtail again and walk down the street, without knowing where I'm going.
At the end of the street a fast towards me rolling ball interrupts my dark thoughts. I jump out of its way and end up in the grass where I keep lying motionless. Today just isn't my day, even though the morning had begun so well.
And as if the ball hadn't been enough, now the little, redheaded owner of the ball comes running towards me, behind him a whole crowd of people with the same red hair. I know the two adults, Molly and Arthur; they are in the order and muggle-loving Blood traitors. The others are probably their children, I heard a lot from the way-too-many problem makers.
Just as I want to disappear in the high grass I get an idea. I could stay as a pet with the family. The thought alone is enough to make me shudder but that's why nobody would suspect me there.
Before I have time to come to a decision the boy, who is about five years old, picks me up and carries me to his parents. "Can I keep him as my pet, Mum? Please, he's so cute! I'll always take care of him and feed him."
Molly considers it for a moment and agrees, without knowing that she just gave a Death Eater free entrance to her family.
This isn't what I imagined my life to be like this morning but it's interesting nonetheless.