Peter Pettigrew was a special sort of coward.
When he was five he broke his mother's vase – the one she coveted over his own life, with its ivory base, gentle curls of golden flowers, and the azure-etched scene of Creation – and he blamed it on the cat. So furious his mother had been with the loss of her vase, that Peter never saw the cat again. When he was nine he tucked some stolen treats into his older cousin's pocket before leaving the store. Upon being caught, his cousin was to blame and Peter walked home alone that night.
When he was eleven, his whole life changed. The invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a frightening event, the mysterious letters came, one after another. His poor mother, a muggle woman, had been thrown into a frenzied panic as owl after unflappable owl swarmed their little suburban neighborhood.
"It's the plant they've built across town," a neighbor, in strong opposition of industrialization, had commented. "The chemicals in the air, it's messin' with the birds' migratory patterns!"
Peter had wondered if owls migrated at all; he was sure that most didn't. Even so, why were they migrating to his house?
His father had finally come home from a business trip, and was immediately assaulted by his wife on the matter of somebody targeting their son. She claimed that they were trying to lure Peter away with false promises of a fairy tale. Peter will never forget the guttural laugh that erupted from his father's throat. As it turned out, his father was a wizard, and so was Peter.
When he was eleven, he met the three boys that would become his very best mates. For once, Peter had friends, big friends to protect him. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin would be his anchors for the next several years of his life – the best years of his life. They would prove to be the best mates that anybody could ever ask for and likewise the best form of protection that anybody could ever ask for. Nobody would mess with Peter Pettigrew, not as long as Potter and Black formed the dynamic power that backed him.
When Peter was twenty, his entire life changed again. He had a chance encounter with the Dark Lord, which resulted in the tragic deaths of James and Lily Potter and the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius Black. He had been unable to withstand the pressure of his own demise, and caused many other souls to suffer in his wake.
Henceforth, he spent a large portion of his life in his animagus form – a rat. What more suitable a creature than a rat for a man like Peter? He was conniving, easily blending with the mass of other rats in the streets and sewers, to hide the shame of what he had done. The Weasley family provided adequate protection, a home, provisions, and would be unable to discover his secret. So, he would spend the remainder of his existence as a rat, cowering from his fate.
When he was thirty-three Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, and he had never been more afraid for his life. He could only hope that the escaped convict was caught before he found the rat, because Peter knew Sirius would be his tragic end. Later that year, his worst nightmares were brought to life as his identity was revealed. The shrieking shack had never felt more terrifying, even surpassing the terror that the house was bathed in when it housed a werewolf.
He was certain that he could escape when Remus – having forgotten to take his wolfsbane potion – transformed into an uncontrollable monster beneath the full moon's light. He had Remus's wand in his hand! It was his; he was free! Or at least he thought he was, until Harry's stunner hit him, knocking him unconscious before he transformed.
Harry opened his eyes, allowing the blurry world around him to assault him. He lay in the darkened room of the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey fussing over Ron father down the room, and Hermione to his other side, laying on a bed of her own. He could vaguely hear voices from beyond the partially opened door, barely distinguishable as Cornelius Fudge and Severus Snape.
He propped himself up on his elbows, determined to listen more closely.
"Very good, you're up Potter!" Madam Pomfrey said, hustling over to his bedside.
"How's Ron?" Hermione asked.
"He's fairing nicely," she responded, beginning to break apart some chocolate pieces on the nightstand between Harry and Hermione.
If she continued to speak, Harry did not hear her. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed, attempting to drink in more of the dark room. He was certain that Sirius would be there, but the only occupants of the room were the foursome that he had already been aware of.
"I need to see the headmaster," he said. *
Madam Pomfrey shook her head slowly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come now, Potter, you need your rest. Pettigrew's been brought to the castle. They're arranging the kiss shortly-"
"-What about Black?"
She pressed his shoulder lightly in an attempt to guide him back onto his bed. "Being questioned. Come now."
"What for?"
Madam Pomfrey sighed, opening her mouth to speak. Whatever she was going to say was lost as Fudge and Snape entered the room.
Snape looked murderous, Harry noticed, as he stood behind Fudge, arms folded in a stubborn stance.
Fudge gazed at Harry, appearing slightly disgruntled. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, frustrated. "Now Harry, I believe that you should sit back down and have some chocolate." He nodded his head toward Madam Pomfrey. "Then, I would be very interested in hearing your take on the events that transpired tonight. You see, Professor Snape here seems to believe that-"
"-He hates Black," Harry said firmly. "Sirius Black is innocent."
Sirius Black was a free man.
While, certainly, he was doomed to lose his soul, despite having captured Peter, when the mass of dementors soared over his head, taking the warmth out of the world around him. Somehow, Harry had rescued him, but never told him how. The boy was certainly like his father, clever and brave, and would risk anything to save his friends.
Friend.
Sirius smiled, glancing across the drawing room at Remus. The tawny-haired man was engrossed in a thick novel, eyes scanning the pages contentedly. While the silence had overwhelmed him, driving him near the point of insanity, the steady quiet in the room was a pleasant, welcomed one. He had been reunited with one of his very best mates, and he smiled a full, true smile.
The sun had felt like warm bathwater on his skin when he had stepped out onto the street the other day. It coated his entire being, washing through his hair, down his face, across his chest, arms, and over his fingertips. He had ignored Remus' loud chuckle and the curious gazes of a few muggles passing by. He had sworn that he could stay like that forever, standing tall in the light, with his arms outstretched to attempt to absorb every ray of the sun that he could. The breeze had caused his long hair to dance wildly and tickle his face. It had been then that Remus reminded him that his hair was the reason that they were venture out that day – to get it cut properly, so that he didn't look like the madman he was, smiling into the sun. The feeling on his body was the same feeling he had inside, knowing that he was free, that he was able to live.
Most of all, his godson was coming to stay the summer with him – James' boy! Sirius could finally practice being a proper godfather to the boy, and he vows that he would never disappoint him. While his old family home was a depressing dwelling, it was but a temporary one, until Sirius could sort out his funding. Harry's presence in the household would absolutely bring it warmth.
Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, waiting anxiously to see who would reappear victorious from the dark labyrinth as the champion of the Triwizard Tournament. The end of his fourth year of at Hogwarts was swiftly approaching, and Harry was avidly anticipating spending another summer with Sirius and Remus. Another completely normal summer was just what he needed after an extraordinarily abnormal life.
The previous summer, they had spent several long days cleaning Sirius' family's old house in order to make it liveable. Sirius promised that by the end of the next summer, they would have a new place to live, a better place. The three of them had gone to the zoo, a carnival, several museums – which Sirius claimed was completely Remus' doing, but they all had fun, none-the-less – and several nights were dedicated to finding new ice cream shops, all with new, exciting flavors of ice cream. They ended the summer by meeting Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley clan at the Quiddich World cup!
Harry couldn't imagine what they had planned for the upcoming summer. Hopefully, it would be a wonderfully normal one.
As Cedric Diggory appeared at the maze's entrance, holding the Triwizard Cup high over his head, the crowd that Harry was seated in erupted in a furious cheer. Diggory had led Hogwarts to victory! He was the champion of the Triwizard Tournament!
Harry smiled, rushing down from the stands with the rest of the crowd to greet their champion.
Peter Pettigrew was a special sort of coward.
Without having escaped the night he was caught, he was unable to find his master. The rats had nobody to tell their story of the strange form that haunted the Albanian forests, feeding off of other creatures. Voldemort would remain just that – a dark shadow hunting animals in the forest.
And Peter?
He would spend the rest of his mortal life in an Azkaban cell, soulless, unable to live, just as Voldemort was unable to live without the flesh of the servant.