Prologue.
Peter Pettigrew has a brief moment of disconnect as the Sorting Hat roars "GRYFFINDOR!" and the lions roar at their table, cheering and clapping. The stern-faced witch who led the first years into the Great Hall, McGonagall, lifts the Hat from his head and he rises shakily to his feet, stumbling down the steps and somehow making his way to the Gryffindor table. Some of his new housemates shuffle to make room and he finds himself sitting in the next moment, still feeling dazed as he registers the events of the past few minutes.
Fact: he was Sorted into Gryffindor.
Fact: Gryffindor is the house of the brave, the noble.
Fact: the lions cheered for him when they realized he is one of their own.
Fact: the other first years Sorted before him are smiling at him when their eyes meet.
Peter is shaken out of his reverie as the Gryffindors roar their approval once more. He follows everyone's gazes, clapping automatically, and blinks at the boy strutting over to their table, chest puffed and head held high. One of the other first years, a good-looking boy with black hair and aristocratic features, whoops and immediately makes room for the newcomer, who grins widely as he slides into his seat.
The pang of envy, short but intense, Peter feels at the sight isn't unfamiliar. The boy - Potter - looks completely at ease, and already he has a close friend who cheers him on and saves seats for him. The constant feeling of inadequacy is an old friend, but he firmly shakes himself. He, too, belongs now: he was Sorted into the lion's pride and was received with just as much welcome as Potter and his friend, and he was saved a seat by his housemates as well. He has nothing to envy Potter for.
Straightening, Peter smiles genuinely as another girl is Sorted into his house and claps loudly, shuffling down the bench to make room. His gaze wanders the Hall as the Sorting dwindles to a close and, briefly, he locks eyes with a serious-looking girl at the Ravenclaw table.
Slowly, the girl lifts her goblet in a silent toast, and Peter nods back, reveling in the feeling of belonging.
Seated amongst eagles, eleven-year-old Maureen Chance contemplates the fair-haired boy at the Gryffindor table, wondering what she'll see in the years to come.
a/n: long time no see! to those of you awaiting new chapters of where we end and mosaic, yikes. not sure when i'll pick those up, i'm having a bit of a dilemma with them.
but on the bright side, here's a new story. take it. i don't really know what to do with it, but take it anyway.
more seriously, on the off chance was born as i read more and more analyses on the character of peter pettigrew, and i realized that shit, yeah, he's actually a really fucking complex character. a terrible person, but a really interesting character. so i wanted to explore the complexity of peter pettigrew as he goes from fellow marauder and beloved friend to a cowardly traitor who coldly murdered 12 muggles and cut off his finger to implicate sirius black as the traitor.
so yeah. here's a thing. hope it'll be worth your while?
-beni