He has returned and they have returned. Everything has returned. Sometimes, I forget that I'm just a coward, and I ask myself why. Why did I betray them? Why did I betray myself, my house, my world? Every story has two sides, and I want to get my side out of me. I'm Peter Pettigrew.

When I was eleven, I had a faint idea that I might be a squib. I didn't occasionally burst out magic, like other kids, even when those other kids were beating the crap out of me. I was afraid to never get to Hogwarts, to shame my family. I was also scared that if I did get in, I would just fail anyway. I was always scared. I am always scared.

When I finally got on the train that day, I got stuck in a compartment with some older kids, because I was a bit late and there weren't many seats left. I didn't really say anything, and then there was sorting, and somehow I became a Gryffindor. That stupid hat told me I was loyal. What a stupid hat. I believed it though. I sat at the table and James Potter and Sirius Black greeted me, already mildly famous only an hour into their first evening. I spent my first year hanging out with the most famous kids in my class.

Still, no one liked me. I remember hearing things in the corridors, things that they didn't hear because they didn't listen. People were meant to listen to them, they had no need to return the favor. There were whispers in every house.

"Who's that pudgy bloke going round with Potter and Black?"

Soon into our first year we acquired another, and I was happy not to be the only new one. I was selfishly pleased to see that Remus Lupin was bookish and frail, in no way the brash image of young handsome-ness that Sirius and James were. He would go to the library a lot, and when I grew tired of freezing in James and Sirius' shadow, I would go with him. And he was smarter than me. Much smarter. James and Sirius were too, but it was easy with them to pretend that if I looked like that I would be their equal.

By third year we found out that Remus was a werewolf. We discussed it, before we confronted him about it. The Famous Duo had figured it out, and they told me. My first reaction was to be rather disgusted. I don't reckon that's my fault though. 'S just how I was raised. I felt wrong for having trusted him. Still though, that selfish part of me was happy to know that at least I wasn't a monster. But no one else knew that Remus was a - a thing. And as we got older, his bony shoulders broadened to the point that you' think it would snap his neck. His face caught up with his too large girly eyes, and all of a sudden he was handsome too, and that just left me.

Every Valentines Day Sirius would smile his way up a girls skirt, and James would show off with that damn Snitch and Remus would quote muggle poets that no sensible person has even heard of. And I was always alone, with nothing that was completely mine.

We decided to become Animagi to help Remus, well, I say we. It was The Famous Duo that decided, Remus who protested, me who followed. It was just an imprint of what every situation was, though.

James and Sirius talk a hundred kilometers a minute, come up with a plan, Remus tries to stop them, he shouts but his voice isn't very big and it just sounds like old dusty books pages, and James and Sirius dare not obey anything resembling a tome of knowledge. And I followed. Because as much as it hurt to be their friend and compare myself every day, if it wasn't them, who would it be?

Eventually in fifth year it worked, we were all Animagi, and James and Sirius were big, their physical forms matched the bigness of their personalities. I became a rat. Which admittedly, maybe should have been a sign. I remember the night it worked. I remember the conversation word for word.

"No! Absolutely not! I don't care if I can't infect you! I could easily rip your arms off-"

"Dogs don't have arms." Sirius offered, smiling, even though the situation begged for total solemnity.

"Shut. Up!" Remus yelled. He yelled often, when they were doing stupid things. But he always yelled well-reasoned arguments. He had never yelled at some one to shut up in his life.

"Listen, mate." James, ever the diplomat. "We didn't do all this work for nothing. We're going. You can't stop us. You're gonna be howling a lot, so you might want to save your voice." The last part was accompanied by a winning smile, pulled back over his perfect teeth, that only illuminated my own buck crooked ones to me. I could never see the good in them, just the sillhouette of the bad in me. I always thought Lupin was a flit, and he melted at that smile.

"I -" His voice wasn't big and yelling, it was small, and sounded like creaking walls. "I could hurt you."

"I suppose." Sirius said, waving his hand as if it was of no real importance. I was the only one scared by this. I didn't want to see the wolf I didn't want to have to be there, trying to comfort a thing. I hoped I could open the passage and then hide in the floorboards until sunrise.

There was a lot of biting and sniffing, as we became Remus' pack. Such a strange thing for quiet little Remus to to hover over Padfoot, pinning him down and biting his ear. Padfoot yelped with pain and submission and the wolf saw his job done. He had no need to assert his dominance over me, I was merely a rat, in the case of pack mutiny, I would be useless. James - I mean Prongs and the wolf circled each other. Prongs bowed his elegant head, the very end of one of his antlers touching the dusty floor of the shrieking shack. The wolf very briefly wrapped his jaw around his neck, squeezed only slightly, and accepted the stag.

In the morning. Remus was naked, and destroyed. He had cuts all over his body. I was the first to wake up. I stood there and looked at him, disgusted by the monster that was hiding in a teenage boy.

"Beautiful, inne?" Sirius said in a whisper from behind me. I wanted to say no, to ask how that creature could possibly be beautiful.

"Yeah." I said instead. Sirius took a spare cloak that he had draped over one of the chairs and moved to Remus, he lifted up his torso so so gently, set Remus's head in his lap. I stayed where I was, afraid that the big bad wolf would come back again. Sirius covered him in the cloak, and brushed the brown hair out of his eyes. Remus looked so breakable, I wanted to kill him, snap his neck while the monster was hiding. Does it still make me a bad person if it was only because I was scared? James walked in with a kettle 3 and three mugs with teabags.

"I had to transfigure sticks into teacups, so uh, Yeah. If it tastes a bit off..." He was whispering, like a new father, aware but undisturbed by the fact that there was a sleeping baby. "Has he woken?" He asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"No." Sirius's lips were a hard line, like McGonnagal's always were. "Should I?"

"Try it." James shrugged. "If he wants to keep sleeping he can." Sirius very very gently put a hand on Remus's cheek. That's one thing I know I'll never forget, Sirius, hard-lined, muscled, rough edges Sirius, being so gentle.

"Rem." He sang. "Reeemmusss." When Remus's eyes opened the hard line of Sirius's mouth bent into a worried smile. "We've all still got arms." He said.

"Good." Remus breathed.

"Tea?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah." And we drank tea in the shrieking shack, Remus made us recount the story of the night before. I didn't have much to offer.

I'll skip ahead now to the part where I was recruited. Sirius and James and, well sort of Remus, had always offered me their protection. Pranks were not pulled on me, and one did not call me chubby with out recieving a Levicorpus and showing their underthings to the school. But there were more dangerous things in the world, unbelievably, than the cruel hearts of adolescents. The Dark Lord was rising and suddenly I wasn't the only one afraid. James and Lily got together, and Lily would sob in the common room and James would hold her.

"Sshh, Sshhh." He'd coo "He'll never get you. I'll never let him take you." Sometimes, to this day, that image, that soft voice, haunts my dreams. No, James didn't let Him get her, I did. I always liked Lily. I never wanted her to die. I suppose I didn't want James to die either. Story of my life, I was scared. It seemed the only way to prolong life was to be on the dark side. So that's what I did. I was valuable to Him. Not as valuable as James or Sirius would have been, but close enough. I was close to Dumbledore because of them. I would be allowed to live, while one by one, my classmates were falling.

It was the Muggleborns first, then the half-breeds. Remus was registered as a werewolf, and I thought that he would be next, but that day never came. Maybe You-Know-Who thought that Dumbledore would take that one personally. I don't know. I was made Secret Kepper when James and Lily had their baby. I knew that if I fed Him the information, he could never kill me, not after I gave him the key to destroying the so-called-Chosen-One.

He told me stories with a sick smile on his gaunt face, a story of James Potter's last act of foolish bravery. I can imagine it, I can see it in my head. But I wonder what he was thinking. I wonder if he felt like he had betrayed Lily, if he remembered promising her that He'd never get her. And little Harry, I didn't want him to die, but he was my ticket to life. I never really wanted any one to die. I got Sirius sent to Azkaban. Remus disappeared. After they were gone, I started to enjoy all the killing. I was finally better than people. Able to control them, to make the pivotal decision between life and death. I was still terrified, every day, that my usefulness had run it's course. Luckily, He thought I could still be of some use, and he didn't kill me. Sometimes, very very rarely, I almost hope that he would. Because I killed them, after they protected me.

It haunts me so much. Sometimes I'll just be sitting there, staring off into space, and then in my head, I'll see that smile, that smile James made when he caught the Snitch, or when he was telling Remus to save his voice. Most people's smiles involved entirley too much teeth, their mouth just opens to pour the joy out. Not James. I can still see his lips, chapped from flying in bitter wind, pulling back over his teeth, slowly, like he had so much joy he couldn't release it all at once or the world would explode. I still hear Sirius laughing at something completely rude or innapropriate halted by the loud thump of Remus hitting him on the shoulder with an ancient hardcover book, hiw brow line furrowed, and his hair, grayer by the day, covering up those wolf eyes. I can still hear Lily calling James a twat, before and after. In the before she meant it, she screamed at him. In the after she would laugh and his hands would find her waist, and they were happy and I ended it. On the really bad days, I hear Harry crying, even though he's all grown up now, I know that The Dark Lord will kill him, and inevitably, it will be my fault.

That's it. That's pretty much all there is to tell. I'm not trying to make excuses for myself, I know that I can't be forgiven, but I hope you understand a little , I don't know. That's it. Every story has two sides.

Peter finished his story, and the face in his mirror seemed to be no less forgiving than when he started.