Disclaimer: Is Harry Potter mine? Not at all. I only have copies
of the books and a minor fixation on it.
A/N: This is something that just
felt like it needed to be written - a letter from a sinner to a dead man. I woke
up with the idea and it wouldn't leave me alone. This is dedicated to all those who
actually like Peter Pettigrew, just like me. ^-^
From A Sinner, To A Dead Man
The twenty-seventh of January. His mind had been chanting it all
day long; tomorrow would be that day, tomorrow would be the day that everything
would always hit him full force. It hurt to know that the shame he felt today
would triple in three hours time - for fourteen years it had been that way, and
so there was no reason for it to change just this once.
The Dark Lord had
noticed his un-ease, and when the Dark Lord notices weakness you were punished.
He wrung his hands in his old and tired looking robes, looking desperately
about, whilst he smuggled the parchment and old muggle pen outside, to behind
the decaying, broken garden wall. It was the furthest he could go without being
accused of trying to run away.
Just looking at the parchment made his
small, blue eyes fill with tears, but he knew he had to do this. In the past he
hadn't been able to; but now there was an opportunity. A small gap had been
left open in his schedule, and despite knowing that if what he was about to
write should ever come into his master's hand that he would not live, the need
to explain himself was greater. He'd always known that this was something he
wanted to do before he died, and well, the way things were going - the war would
never be kind to him.
Peter Pettigrew wiped his brow and chewed on the
end of the pen, before shakily scrawling the first few words on the parchment;
Dear James…
***
Dear James,
I…I don't really know how to
start this, I never was good with words like you or Remus. I don't think that
time has changed that part of me, if anything I think I'm worse.
It
would be your birthday today…in all my years as a rat I always remembered your
birthday. Sometimes I'd remember other people's too, but yours never left my
mind. Your birthday always managed to be more spectacular than anyone else's - I
think it was the way your face would light up when you opened your presents, it
didn't matter what anyone brought you, you'd always be over the moon at any
gift. It used to be a joke that myself and Sirius had going (not Remus though,
he was always very secretive about what he brought people for birthdays -
remember that?) that if I got stuck, I could always pick a stick up from the
ground and attach an IOU note to it.
You probably would have liked that;
found it funny or something.
Maybe that's why I'm writing this…James, I
owe you - well your son, two lives. Normally I can forget about it; keep it at
the back of my mind, but when it's your birthday it's impossible. Everywhere I
go I can see your grinning face, laughing over some joke we'd played on Snape or
whoever we'd decided needed taking down a peg or two that week.
I'm
sorry, so bloody sorry…I never meant for you to die, or Lily! I just made such a
huge mistake, and I was scared James; I know I always had more stupid little
fears than any of the others, but…I'd never been so afraid. It started at my
office, someone noticed how I'd get letters with the seal of the order on it. I
never kept them, threw them into the fire like I was told to do, but it was
noticed.
Bole. Richard Bole. Remember him? Year above us, Ravenclaw
house. He worked in the office next door to me at the time…he asked me about
them - the letters- , said he knew they were about Dumbledore's force against
the Dark Lord and he was interested in helping out. Well, he was so nice James!
He was Ravenclaw! He was the guy who once helped me out when I got into a fight
with Evan Rosier, took me to the hospital wing and everything. I didn't know he
was working for someone else; I thought I was doing Dumbledore a favor by
telling him things, he told me that he'd spoken to Dumbledore and that he was
going to be back-up at certain raids and the likes.
I told him the locations
and information to some of the raids that you were on; told him that my great
friend, James Potter, was going to be there and that he was one of the best
Wizards in the world.
Six months later, in my own house, I found myself
faced with ten Death Eaters. I told them that I'd never join them! I'd never
help out the Dark Lord! It was just after Harry was born and you'd taken a month
off to be with Lily and your son all the time…they wanted to know what you were
doing and where you were - where was the great Potter who I spoke so highly of
and who had put two of their best men in prison?
What's more, they told
me all about Bole. He was there, his face masked like all the Death Eaters. They
told me I'd already betrayed you all, just because I wanted to look good by
getting another recruit for Dumbledore's side. They were right. It was no
coincidence that everywhere you went you were met with some of the strongest of
you-know-who's men (and women, there was a woman there as well that night). It
was my fault, but I hadn't done it on purpose! I wasn't like Snape, or Rosier or
Malfoy…was I?
But I could never tell you about it, because that's when I
really did betray you. You all would have hated me if you'd found out. But I
think my situation now shows that you reap what you sow.
I still
have nightmares about that night now. Remember the Alsops? They had a child, a
couple of months older than Harry. It was the night they'd been killed…the Death
Eaters…they'd taken their baby girl and brought her along to show me. Because I
wouldn't let them know where you were…they killed her in front of me. Not just
Advada Kedavra, they…they slammed her tiny body into the wall and smashed her
head on the old dining table that I had, carved lines through her skin with a
blunt and rusty old penknife. She'd stopped crying almost immediately, but they
carried on…told me that if I didn't help them out, that's what they'd do to
Harry! I think I actually threw up when one of them literally snapped her neck
with their bare hands.
My house never did get rid of the stench of blood
and vomit to me. I bet…I bet if Sirius went there now, he'd see the patches of
blood by the fireplace, under the rug. They threw her body in that fireplace you
know; but none of you ever wondered why my house was so cold from the lack of
lit fires. I couldn't stand to see them burning, because all I saw was this poor
little child, deformed and bloody…and the smell…the smell never left
me.
They told me that I had to tell them where the next important meeting
was. If I didn't, then I would die, Harry would die in the same way as that
other child and so would you and Lily and all my friends. It seemed silly to
resist. I didn't want to do it, really I didn't, but you were all so strong,
you'd defeat whoever came to the next meeting. And you did, didn't
you?
Before I knew it, they turned up more frequently. Anytime I tried to
tell them no, they'd do something terrible in front of me…so I stopped trying. I
think I actually convinced myself that I was doing the right thing, and that
when the Dark Lord won, I'd be able to save you all because you were my friends.
Things became easier if I thought like that…especially when I met the Dark Lord
himself.
He told me how useful I was! He told me that my powers were
excellent and that I was going to be remembered as a great person. Me! The one who
turned into a rat! I liked the praise so much that I let them brand my arm with
the Dark Mark. I was praised for my sense of duty to my master and for having
the good sense to join the winning side.
But good things like praise
never last. Things got steadily worse, about a month before you died. I'd messed
up on a couple of bits of information and nobody was very happy with me. He'd
decided that he wanted to kill you all off…and I was going to help him, because
I was close to you. And you can't say no to the Dark Lord, James. You only saw
him once in person, he only attacked you once…and Sirius, well he never saw him
did he? Sirius wouldn't understand just how terrifying it is! I know he doesn't,
because no-one who's ever been part of the Dark Lord's work wouldn't be able to say
that you should give your life for your friends when you know that they wouldn't
kill you quickly. You died with one spell, but me? They would have tortured me
for weeks, before they did the final two hours of curse after curse after curse until my
heart gave out.
I'm not saying it wasn't my fault you died though. Your
deaths were to be my convenient punishment for my weakness; I would suffer, and
so would Dumbledore.
Well, you know what happened then. And then Sirius
came after me…I panicked. I mean, what sane and non-desperate man cuts off his
own finger James? I didn't think I'd kill all of those muggles you know - I
always thought that what our Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher had said was
true; that I could point my wand at him and say the right words, but the most
I'd be able to do would be breaking his arm, and that would be if I was lucky.
But he'd said that I would be able to break things like chairs and desks easily,
the words had enough power in themselves to do that, so I cut my finger off, and
whispered the words…the ground was open and I was able to run away from it all.
I didn't know I could kill twelve muggles in one shot.
I had
hoped that you'd told Remus though, that I was doing that charm. I knew in my
heart of hearts that you hadn't, but I really did hope. Because that would have
saved Sirius. How could you have thought that Remus had gone against you? How
could you have been so stupid?
But I think I know that answer, don't I.
We always had a strange, sort of one way circle support system between
us at school. We never spoke about it, but we knew it was there. I always
understood Remus better than anyone else, and he in turn, understood Sirius'
mind. Sirius knew you inside out, better than you knew yourself and you…you
always understood me James. But there was a problem with that system - there was
always one person who you didn't have a direct link to. Me and Sirius had that
problem; it was probably the reason why he teased me more than the rest of you - we
were opposites. That lack of link was what made yours and Remus' fights
legendary when you were at school, even if everyone's forgotten them now.
You and Remus were the best of friends, but you could never figure out
what was going on in the other's head. So you took one another at face value all
to often. What I don't understand is why you didn't see through me. Were you
giving me a chance to deify the Dark Lord? Or were the things that the Death
Eaters whispered to me true - that I was never one of the group? That you always
thought I was a tag-along to begin with?
I…it's all in the past now
anyway. Whatever happened, everything's changed now.
I've met your son,
I've met Harry. When I was living as a rat, I lived with his best friend. He's
like you, but with Lily's common sense. He's so smart and…well he's a
Gryffindor. He's brave and noble and makes friends for life. He hates
Slytherins, he sneaks out of school and he's ten times better than anyone else
in the school at Quidditch - you'd have been so proud of him. He stopped Remus
and Sirius from killing me, but not for the same reasons that you wouldn't have
killed me, because you would have understood.
Sirius is free now. Remus
was teaching at the school, but he must have been fired because he wasn't there a
year later. And that leaves me…I'm back with the Dark Lord. The dark mark binds
us all to him. I think this is what Lily called karma.
I don't have
anywhere else to go now, except here with him and the rest of the people like
me. We're the sinners, who have no way of making up for our sins. The ones who
are so far deep, that even if we spent the rest of our lives working for things
good and pure, and even sacrificing ourselves for that cause, we would still end
up in the darkest pits of hell. Although many here don't believe in that; they
believe only in their master and feeding their hunger for power.
I
don't. I can still remember Remus telling us once that he would end up in hell,
because his curse would outweigh anything he does in life. If he spent five
minutes with the people who I now live with, I think he'd realize that he's far,
far away from that fate. He's never even bitten another person, but we've all
killed at least three. It stuck with me, and I've always believed in it since.
I'm going to have to stop now. If I'm gone too long, then it'll be
noticed. I just…I didn't write this for forgiveness. I think I wrote it for
peace of mind; I need to be able to live with myself, I need to be able to walk
around knowing that at least I've tried to make you see things the way I have
to. I can't have a conscience as a Death Eater, so this is me letting my final
piece go, I guess.
Happy Birthday Mr. Prongs. Please accept my IOU - one
life, to be given in place of anyone you see appropriate and at a time you see
fit. Give me the signal, and I'll get there, eventually.
Yours,
Peter.
***
[Edited 15/02/03 : Removal of Remus and Sirius in the last section. Grammar checked to the best of my ability.]