So I don't normally write stuff about Peter because he's a terrible human being, but it was a challenge and therefore... I took care to try and write him as likeable, because despite what we all think of him, James and Lily and Sirius trusted him and that had to be for a reason.

Hestia Jones sighed as she turned what felt like the millionth page of her book. Arithmancy was so boring – thankfully she could drop it at the end of this year. But first she had to pass that damn O.W.L. It wasn't hard to fall into daydreaming about how different her sixth year would be. She could take amazing classes, like Advanced Potions and Advanced Charms. Professor Sprout had even mentioned that she was thinking about a really advanced Herbology class, which would be perfect. Hestia second favorite thing was to feel her hands in the dirt and grow plants for use in her potions.

She did want to be a Healer after all, and her Head of House had told her that with her talents she was well on her way to becoming one. Hestia had been glowing for the next week after she'd been told that, and it gave her even more of a reason to throw herself wholeheartedly into her classes. She did love most of them, after all.

It was just this dratted Arithmancy. She'd only taken it because one of her friends had sworn that it would be fun. Two years later, Hestia was practically in tears at the end of each class because the numbers just didn't make sense. She did take comfort in the fact that her Arithmancy scores probably weren't something that the hospital would be looking at when they reviewed her application, but she still hated failing at anything. She was tempted to just skip the exam, but then she thought of the yelling-at she would get from Lily and dismissed that idea.

Hestia managed to be friends with most of her year-mates despite the fact that they were all in different Houses. She was one of the few that managed to get along with the Slytherins, and they were, if not friendly, at least cordial with her as well. She had always prided herself on being friendly and her Head of House had also told her that that trait would serve her well as a Healer. It did come naturally to her, after all – Hestia had been the oldest of five children, and with her mother gone all the time on Auror missions and her father working around the clock to put food on the table, Hestia had always been more of a mother to her siblings rather than a sister.

She had always been okay with that, though. Maybe that was where her desire to be a Healer sprang from – she had always been the one to patch up her sibling's hurts, so even from an early age things like blood, broken bones, and other nasty afflictions of the body hadn't bothered her. A smile crept across her face at the thought of working in the children's ward at St. Mungo's. It'd be just like having little siblings again, except she'd be able to do more than hold a tissue to a bloody nose or clean a cut. She'd be able to really, really help.

But first she had to get through Arithmancy. She couldn't stifle a groan as she looked at how much left of the book she had to read and all of the problems she still had to solve. Outside, the light was growing slowly darker. It had been misty all day, but she had still found time to be outdoors.. That was half the reason she was so far behind in her homework. But outside was just so much nicer than being trapped in the castle all day, and so she really couldn't help it.

The brunette witch took another look at her open Arithmancy book before slamming it shut. "Not happening," she muttered. Then she shrieked as she saw a little rodent run across the floor, doubtless disturbed by the clap of her book closing. Hestia screamed again and jumped up onto her chair as the rat took refuge underneath a bookshelf. "Oh Merlin, oh Merlin," she whimpered.

One of her least favorite things were rats. It was just something about the way they moved, and their slimy little worm-tails... she shivered, refusing to get down off her chair. Living in a castle made this one phobia a bit problematic, but usually there were people around to scare it off.

There was no more movement from the rat but Hestia remained on her chair anyway. "Please just... don't move," she begged of the rat after a few minutes. Slowly and carefully she stepped down off the chair, gathering her bag into her arms. She almost forgot the Arithmancy book, and, swearing lightly, turned back to grab it. As she turned she thought she saw a shadow move under the bookcase and reached for her book too quickly.

As it slammed onto the ground there was another squeak. Hestia shrieked for a third time and practically flew back up onto her chair, then moved onto the top of the desk to be extra safe. She couldn't see the rat but she knew it was still there, under that bookcase, hiding and being all menacing and sneaky...

The door to the classroom opened and a familiar mousy-headed boy walked in. "...Hestia?" Peter Pettigrew asked. "What are you doing?"

"It's fine! Everything's fine!" She said, her voice too shrill to be normal.

"I heard someone yelling. And you're standing on a desk," he said, looking a little concerned.

"Sorry! I just... it's fine now!"

"Are you okay?"

Hestia was about to continue to deny that she had been screaming, but then she sighed and shook her head. "There was a rat. I hate rats."

For some reason Peter seemed a little upset. "Why?"

"They move funny." Being frightened so much in the span of only a few moments had reduced Hestia to talking like her youngest brother. She cleared her throat and clarified. "They way they move is unnerving to me. And their tails look disgusting. And I feel like they're always staring at me."

"They move funny." Peter repeated, clearly trying to stifle a grin.

"Yes. Don't laugh at me!"

"I..." he coughed. "I'm not. Sorry. Look, where's the rat?"

"Under that bookcase," Hestia answered, pointing at the offending piece of furniture like it was going to sprout legs and run after her.

Peter walked over to the bookcase and knelt down to look under it. Hestia whimpered again at the thought of the rat reappearing. She heard a low chuckle from Peter and scowled at his back. He didn't get it. They all irrational fears, right?

She strained her ears to hear him... was he whispering to the thing? She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself. That was just creepy. Who would want to talk to those disgusting creatures? Eventually he stood back up, something cradled in his hands. "Come here," he said.

"Absolutely not," she returned almost instantly. "What are you holding?"

"It's not a rat, calm down."

"It... it's not?" What the hell else could it be? She'd seen its beady eyes, its scaly and worm-like tail, its ripped ears and dark grey fur.

"No. Come here and see." Peter seemed almost affectionate with the thing, and whatever he was holding couldn't be all that scary if he liked it, right? She conveniently ignored the fact that some people kept rats as pets.

"What is it?" She asked, clambering down from the table even slower than she had before.

"Just come look."

It took a good two minutes for Hestia to work up the courage to walk the thirty feet to where Peter was standing. When she made it within four feet of him she stopped and demanded to see what was in his hands. "Just don't scream, okay? You'll scare him."

When he showed her the rat with the absolutely disgusting growth on his back, Hestia couldn't help it. She let out another pathetic whimper and bolted for the door. "Hestia!" She heard Peter call from behind her, but she didn't stop until she'd reached her common room, safe near the warmth of the kitchens.

About three minutes after she'd started to calm down, she realized she'd left her bag and all her books, including that clearly cursed Arithmancy one, in the room with the rat-thing. It didn't matter. She couldn't go back there until she'd had at least three people proclaim it rat-free. And Peter, tricky little bastard, was certainly not going to be one of those three. No wonder he got along so well with rats – he was just as sneaky and underhanded as they were.

She dreamed of rats that night and woke up at three in the morning shaking. After tossing and turning for an hour, she sighed and got dressed, hoping that a walk would help settle her mind. The Hufflepuff common room was very close to the kitchens, and she was friendly with some house elves who would happily help her get out of the castle without using the main doors.

Once she was outside, she breathed in the cold, damp air of the early morning with pleasure. The fog from last night still hung heavily on the ground and it seemed to swirl around her feet as she walked. It calmed her down, and she wandered around the grounds until the pale light of dawn tinged through the thick fog.

In the comfort of the morning light, Hestia decided to brave the castle to get back to her dorm. It wasn't hard to get back inside – the caretakers and prefects usually guarded against people wandering around at night, not in the wee hours of the morning. She descended back to the warmth of the Hufflepuff corridor, and just before the portrait of a snoozing man sat her bag and books, neatly stacked with a note on top.

Hestia, she read. I'm really sorry about earlier tonight. I didn't know you were really that scared of rats. I promise I won't do something like that again. I hope leaving your books behind didn't inconvenience you too much – if you need help with Arithmancy, I'd be glad to help out. It's one of the few subjects I am better than James at. Again, I'm really sorry. – Peter

Hestia had a small smile on her face as she picked up her belongings and reentered the common room. She finished her reading in a surprisingly good mood and then headed to breakfast, smiling at Peter when she saw him. He returned her smile with a grin, relief clearly in his expression.

They worked together later in Herbology. He was a bit too eager to do things that she asked him, and she could tell he still felt guilty for the night before. "So," she eventually asked. "What was that thing? You said it wasn't a rat."

"O-oh," he said, surprised that she had asked. "It was a murtlap. They usually live only on the coast. I've no idea what one was doing this far inland."

"Wait – like murtlap essence?"

Peter looked a little unhappy at that. "Yeah. That thing on it's back? That's what's pickled and used for murtlap essence."

After a few moments silence, Hestia asked, "What did you do with it?"

"I've got him in my room now. I was going to go talk to Professor Kettleburn later to see he was missing any murtlaps, but other than that I think I'll just try and keep him happy until I can take him back to the ocean."

"You really like rats that much?"

There was no mistaking it – Peter did look unhappy at that comment. "I do. They're misunderstood, but they're really smart creatures. Murtlaps are pretty hard to find in the wild, actually. The ones that we get the essence from are farmed. But the ones in the wild manage to stay alive and are smart enough not to get caught."

"Oh." Hestia was quiet as she tired to calm the Fanged Geranium they were working with.

"He was probably just as scared of you as you were of him," Peter continued, handing her a pair of shears. "The world huge and people are giants when you're a rat. And they make really loud noises." Hestia felt like she was being gently chastised and it was working. A light pink flush spread across her cheeks and she busied herself with the plant until the end of class.

As Peter was walking away after Herbology with his friends, Hestia ran up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and she asked, "Could I maybe see the... murtlap? Later, I mean? Maybe if I look at him again he won't be so terrifying."

Peter's face lit up and he smiled a few inches down at her. "Sure. After dinner, how about that?"

"Sounds fine to me. I'll see you then," she returned his smile as she walked away. Behind her, she could hear Sirius demanding to know what the hell that was. She stifled a giggle and hurried to Transfiguration.