A/N: This will be just three chapters long, three different moments in Peter Pettigrew's life. The idea for these three just wouldn't leave me alone, and I just had to write. I hope everyone likes them!


"Then you should have died!" roared Black. "Died rather that betray your friends, as we would have done for you!" (Rowling 375)
I was finally eleven, finally old enough to attend Hogwarts. My mother's firm grip on my hand never faltered as we pushed through the throngs of people at King's Cross trying to find the correct train to board. But we passed by all of them, my mother knew exactly which platform she was headed for.

I was almost hoping for her to lose the way, so I didn't have to go. Half of me wanted to just crawl back into bed. What if I didn't live up to her standards for me? What if I really wasn't a wizard, I had just gotten the letter by mistake. I turned my head backwards to see my father struggling behind; almost getting lost between the crowds, but my mother didn't glance back once. Her gaze was set determinedly forward.

We finally reached the platforms 9 and 10. It was then that my mother finally looked down at me.

"Don't get scared dear, just run straight through." She whispered in my ear, and I nodded. My hands were shaking and my palms sweaty as I gripped onto the trolley that held my trunk. My mother looked around at all the passing Muggles, making sure none were watching us, and pushed me forward a bit. I closed my eyes and broke into a sprint. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen me running at the brick wall between the two platforms and then would have seen me almost melt into the wall, as if I had never even been there.

The first change I noticed was the sound. Not only were there hurrying feet, but now I could hear the hoot of various owls who found their time for sleep rudely disturbed. The angry yells of travelers who were about to miss their train was replaced by the goodbyes and sniffling of mothers as they clung to their children for one last time.

When I opened my eyes, I saw it. The Hogwarts Express. Its red coat was gleaming in the sunlight of the day. The train whistled, as if herding the students aboard. I turned to see my mother tight behind me, a lone tear in her eye.

"Peter, your father and I are so proud of you. I promise, you will learn so much at Hogwarts, and you'll make amazing friends." She bent down to my level, and gave me a warm hug, which I returned. "No matter what you do, we'll always love you. Remember that."

"I will mum." I answered, tears threatening to spill. She was so sincere about what she had just said, some of my fears dissolved right then and there. But there was still the fact that I might not make any friends. Who would want to hang out with a wimpy kid like me, who was almost crying in front of the entire school?

I gave my mother one last hug, and she kissed the top of my head. Before I turned to board the Hogwarts Express, I said back, "I love you too."

She wiped another tear from her eye, and waved me off. I pulled the trunk onto the train, and waved back to her. The train was pulling away, and I caught one last glance at my mother, before Platform 9 ¾ rolled out of sight.

But I knew if I came back the next day, with a letter explaining I was a squib, my mother would still love me.


Rowling, J.K. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. 1st ed. New York: Scholastic P, 1999.