Walking home after a meeting with the Order in the dead of night, Peter needed to be alone to think. The Dark Lord himself asked him to join the Death Eaters. Could he betray his friends like that? Friends he had known since his first year at Hogwarts? But, he had to ask himself, were they even his friends; did he actually have true friends?
He always wondered if they sincerely appreciated and enjoyed his company or if they merely put up with him. He constantly seemed to just… tag along, following in their over sized footsteps. He never felt he could really live up to the names of James, Remus, and Sirius. They seemed to hover above him in status, just outside of his reach. No matter how hard he extended his arm and stretched, their glory could not be touched. To be honest with himself, he was tired of continually living in their shadow. He wanted some of their infamy, a taste of some of the fame they acquired, not just merely recognition that he might have played a small part in some of their work. Not our work, their work.
At school, it was always them, always the others that received the popular status for their jokes and pranks, while he, Peter, was left as a bystander, barely getting a pat on the back for all the effort he too put in. He was known as 'that boy that follows the marauders around'.
During full moons and Remus' transformations, he never took a major part in helping his 'friend'. James and Sirius controlled the werewolf while they told Peter to 'stay out of the way' and 'try not to get injured this time'. The only part he ever played was pressing the knot of that deranged plant. If he thought everything was all going to change when the four of them graduated, he was sorely mistaken.
When the Order was formed, it was always the others that got to go on top secret missions, the others that went on dangerous trips while he was stuck with lousy paper work or merely keeping watch on some deserted hallway where no one was really expected to show up. Everyone else must have thought he didn't notice they gave him easy tasks to complete for the Order, that he must be too stupid to notice. He wasn't, and he was sick of it. He was sick of being in the background, sick of always being put down, and sick of the fact that no one ever put any faith in him.
The Dark Lord was right, they weren't really his friends. The Dark Lord told him he could do great things by joining the Death Eaters, great important things. He said he could use Peter's talents as an unregistered animagus. He would be doing something more important than only freezing the Willow. At long last, he would be put to good use, to be appreciated for something, to be something other than another unwanted spot on the wall.
This was his chance to finally play a central part, to be valued, a place where Peter could be looked up to instead of stepped all over like some kind of rug on the floor used to wipe people's feet. The others would never know, they would think he didn't have the wits to do such a thing. Finally, he could steal some of that fame back, and be known for something, something important. His decision made he left the blackness with a 'pop'.
"Ah, Wormtail. Welcome," greeted the Dark Lord as Peter apparated in the lair.
This is where he belonged; this is where his true friends were.
A/N: As always please review. Constructive criticism is most welcome. This isn't a very popular character, so please, review!!