Summary: Peter Pettigrew always thought he was doing the right thing. Dumbledore had ordered him to do so. And Dumbledore is always right, isn't he? Well, the Potters' death wasn't on their plans...

My name's Peter Pettigrew. Muggle school clerk, Hufflepuff, Death Eater, spy for Albus Dumbledore, you name it. My former friends hate me; I was presumed dead and now, I am to be killed at sight. All this because of my following an order from the man I thought was perfect. Now, 31st July 1990, Wormtail will try to correct his mistakes and fool that old man's plot. If Harry Potter doesn't trust a repented war criminal, my fate will be sealed. If he does, my death will be postponed. This is Scabbers, whose destiny will be decided by a tenth year old, to which I've be done great harm.

This is Peter Pettigrew, and I'll explain you my history, from my point of view.

My childhood was a Muggle one. My mother trying to keep me from harm, home-schooled me during my first ten years. I accept it; I had an Oedipus complex. I despised my father, and loved my mother. I remember her so clearly: hazel eyes, brown hair, pale skin, sharp features, a generous bust and slender legs. She was on her thirties when she died. Or rather, when my father killed her. Her epitaph? "For a loving mother and friend. All her life, she repeated "Draco Domiens Nuncam Titilandus". In the end, she forgot her own words."

My father was a drunk, and a violent drunk to top it. His days were all the same: wakes up with a hangover at 10; beat his only child at 11; insult mom's food while eating it at 1PM; then go the rest of the day to the bar, where he'd get so much beer we didn't even know where all the money came from. Then, at around 8PM, he'd come home, beat his only child at 9 and rape his wife until 12. Then, he'd fall asleep.

Needless to say, he didn't live long after I became thirteen.

At eleven, I came to Hogwarts. I was a loner Hufflepuff, bent on learning everything he could. I had excellent marks, but I lacked friends. To occupy myself in my spare time, I learnt all the harmful magic I could get my hands onto. Ironically, I bumped on the three curses I was thinking of while doing my Charms essay: The Unforgivables.

I never thought it to be such a touchy subject, until I included it in my DADA essay. I remember my teacher paling when I handed her my work. I was very proud of it, as it explained the subject perfectly. I was alarmed when my teacher grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the classroom. I was terrified when we stood in front of the gargoyle that leaded to the Headmaster's office. I was smiling when I came out, the day after. My bum ached, and it hurt when I sat, but I'd find somebody I could trust. Or so I though, silly me.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. "How could the Savior of the World, the Defeater of Grindelwald©, sink so low? You must be lying!"

I wish the same think as you, that such a powerful wizard was above molestation, rape, murder. That the Leader of the Light lived up to his name. But he certainly wasn't above teaching an eleven year old the Unforgivables; to craft him into a weapon, to make him infiltrate a group of his own students. He even broke the boy's mind and rebuilt it! All the while using him for his personal pleasure.

And so, he took my wand, saying that he was going to remove the wards on it so I could take my vengeance on my father. He said he'd take about a year for it.

Little did I know that removing wards took only seconds for a wizard of his calibre.



So, I got a new wand at the start of my second year. During the train ride, I was to befriend Sirius Black, James Potter and Remus Lupin. I was to join them, make them rule-breakers and inspire them to become animagi, all the while making myself appear like a clueless almost-squib Muggleborn.

At the end of our third year, I managed to make them all adore and trust Dumbledore, though Sirius still doubted about his perfection. I made them start a feud against Snape and Slytherins in general. The only thing that didn't go as planned was him actually becoming best friends with the trio. Also, their pranking pastime was nowhere in the master plan. The master plan edified by the one and only Albus Dumbledore. The plan that destroyed my life.

The first morning of summer vacations, I found my wand ward-less, sitting next to my bed, as naive as I was. She didn't know the spell she was going to cast. In fact, I hesitated when I had it pointed against my father emotionless eyes. I never thought about Imperio-ing somebody to watch them harm themselves, nor to Crucio them into insanity. However, I had done all of the above, and was about to end it all. The two words fell off my mouth, almost accidentally. And my father fell next to the woman I loved. I didn't fell to my knees and cried, like all books say people do. I simply took a shower, grabbed a shovel, digged a big hole and threw both corpses in. Then, I filled the tub and laid down, trying to drown. But Dumbledore apparated in front of me, jerking me out the water. He slapped me, screamed at me and then took me non-consensually. From then on, everything went downhill.

Third year was uneventful, fourth year too. Fifth year, we finally got to transform and follow Remus to the Shrieking Shack. Sixth year, I contacted Lucius Malfoy, the Slytherin that was recruiting students for the Dark Lord's cause. I finally took the mark at the end of my last year, along with my diploma. Some years after, little Harry was born. Then, Dumbledore contacted me again.

This time, I didn't comply without a fight. Dumbledore still was the most powerful, and I left my healer training to join the Order of the Pheonix and ultimately, become the Potter's secret guardian.

But the plan didn't go as it was supposed to be. Dumbledore never came to my signal, and James and Lily were murdered. I had to fake me own death, kill eleven muggles and incarcerate my best friend. I was stuck as the rat of a stuck-up nerdy boy, then his dumb brother.

But now, I've escaped. And depending on the decision of the boy that I ruined his life, I am to die or live. I don't have many chances, but it's worth the try.

Is it?

It's Albus Dumbledore, Perfect Old Man's word against Peter Pettigrew, dirty traitor's word