The Life and Times of Peter Pettigrew
Eighteen years later...
Harry Potter woke up and saw red. Red walls, covered in posters of his favourite Quidditch team, Puddlemere United. His old keeper, Oliver Wood, waved at him from the poster. Groggily, Harry pulled in some clothes and then looked in the mirror. His hair was as messy as ever, and he shrugged at himself, knowing there was nothing he could do about it, and went downstairs.
As he walked downstairs he could hear his parents talking in hushed tones. Harry frowned, trying to work out why, when he realised. Today was the eighteenth of July. God, he hated today. Every year, since it happened, his parents and their friends would get together, usually in a place like a church, and have what they called a celebration, and what Harry called an extra funeral, for Peter Pettigrew. And, as soon as Harry was old enough to ask questions, he would go with them.
It wasn't that Harry didn't like the annual get togethers. In fact, he quite enjoyed seeing some of the people who attended, such as his parents friend and his ex professor, Remus, but Harry felt that he had no place there. He'd never met Peter Pettigrew, the man had been killed two years before he was born. The name meant nothing to him. The only sadness Harry felt was for his parents, who became quiet and withdrawn in the days before and after Peter's death anniversary. If Harry had a choice, he would stay at home while his parents went to the church, but he felt like they wanted him there, so he didn't say anything.
"Harry?" Asked his mum, and with a jolt Harry realised he was sitting at the table. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry said. "Just tired." Then he frowned and looked at his mum. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. "Are you alright?"
"What?" She said, caught off guard. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Eat your pancakes dear." Harry could tell his mum was upset, she only ever called him dear when something was wrong. But he didn't push it and started eating his pancakes.
"So." Said his Dad. Harry looked up, knowing what to expect. "It's the day." He sounded like he'd tried to make his voice sound jolly, but it wavered slightly, as if he was trying not to cry.
"When are we leaving?" Asked Harry, trying his best to keep everything normal.
"In about an hour." Said his mum. "You might want to change into something a bit smarter." Harry looked down at his clothes and realised he was wearing an old, scruffy pair of jeans and a top about five sizes to big for him that his aunt and uncle had sent him for Christmas. Harry had strongly suspected it used to belong to his cousin, Dudley.
"Yeah, sure," Harry said, almost running to his room. When he got there, he shut his eyes. His parents were always so *weird* this time of year. He hated it. Peter Pettigrew was one of his dad's greatest friends, and when he died he was barely eighteen. Harry knew it wasn't Peter's fault for being murdered by a death eater, but he couldn't help feeling slightly resentful towards the man. Sighing, Harry put on some smarter clothes and went back downstairs.
"So, Ron reckons I might get made captain for the Quidditch team this year." Said Harry as the family walked down to Godric's Hollow church an hour later.
"That would be wonderful!" Said his mum, sounding a lot happier about the idea when he first mentioned it to her a few weeks ago. "Wouldn't it James?"
"Hmm?" Said James, looking up from the ground. "Yeah, great." Harry's shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"I'm going to get my OWL results back soon." Harry tried again. "I'm pretty sure I passed defence, but I don't know about Divination or History of-"
"Okay, dear." Said his mum sharply. Harry turned to look at her, and she subtly gestured towards his dad. Harry could see his Dad was downcast, looking at the floor with a hopeless look in his eye. Harry gave up with the conversation.
When they arrived at the Church, the first person they saw was the Potter's friend Remus, who was looking nearly as depressed as Harry's dad. "Hey Remus!" Harry said, running up to the frail man. "Hello Harry," Said Remus warmly, giving Harry a quick hug before greeting Harry's parents. The four of them sat in a pew in silence.
Harry looked around the church, watching people come through the doors. The next person to arrive was Harry's potions teacher, Professor Snape (his dad stood up at this, but his mum pulled him back down, whispering something to him that calmed him down) and the Longbottoms. Harry saw his friend Neville in the group and grinned at him, and Neville waved back. Eventually, everyone had arrived and the service began.
The first person to speak was Peter Pettigrew's mother, Eloise. Every year she would say the same thing, that her son was very brave, a fighter, a good person and a sweet child. It was only touching the first five times. In fact, most people's speeches were the same, so Harry would drift in and out of what was being said until his dad went up. His Dad always gave good speeches, whether it was a birthday, a wedding or the anniversary of his best friend's death.
When it was Harry's dad's turn to speak it was nearly the end of the church service. After the church service, most of the people there would go back to the Potter's house, but eventually the only people still there would be James and Remus, slightly drunk and reminiscing about 'the good ole days.' But for now his dad was entirely sober, and standing in front of everyone.
"Peter Pettigrew was one of my closest friends." James began. "We met on the train to Hogwarts nearly twenty five years ago, and I had the honour of knowing him for seven school years. We were incredibly close at school. He was everything a Gryffindor should be; brave, kind, daring and very, very loyal. I consider myself very lucky to have been his friend, and I'm sure he's watching all of us from above. But we can promise to ourselves that we will never forget the wonderful man Peter Pettigrew was, because if he can live on in our hearts and memories then that's what's important." James stepped forward slightly, and half said half shouted: "To Peter Pettigrew!"