Part I

Peter.

It was the year that everything began to change. The year that they gained their most prominent reputation yet, and for the first time, in the whispers in the corridors, his name was mentioned, too.

And not just as James, Sirius and Remus's stupid friend.

He should thank Sirius the most, really, for it was Sirius who had appeared, bruised and beaten, at Peter's home this past summer. The elder Black brother had sought out a place to stay before the Potters returned from holiday, and had demanded Peter allowed Sirius to make him look much less like a sack of hippogriff shit.

It had been annoying, to say the least, to have Sirius throw out three-quarters of Peter's wardrobe and traipse the two of them around London; wizarding and Muggle alike, to change Peter's entire supply of clothes. Sirius next thrust Peter ungraciously, into a barber's seat and dictated exactly what happened to Peter's hair.

What was more annoying, or so Peter lied anyway, was that it worked.

For the first time, he was noticed, and not thanks to the specialist cream that Mary ordered for him from Witch Weekly, for the interesting patterns his acne made,h e was seen and he was spoken to, as Peter. Girls, and boys alike, no longer approached him for the sole purpose of gaining information that may lead to the seduction of one of his friends. No, now they wanted to know his Quidditch team, and what he planned to do on the next Hogsmeade weekend.

It was intoxicating and gratifying, and everything most sixteen-year-old boys, especially ones who possess incredibly popular companions, desired.

His somewhat newfound inclusion wasn't solely based on his looks, however.

What really got him recognised on his own volition, cementing him in a genuine popularity and, though he didn't dare think so himself, an admiration amongst the other students, also started as Sirius's idea.

At first, Peter had been incredulous. "You want to what?"

"You've gone too far this time, Pads," Remus interjected as Peter nodded in agreement.

"Well," Sirius began, a feigned look of hurt crossing his dark features, "too far or not, they're here now, and one of you needs to put them in the Slytherin common room."

Remus's jaw had dropped as he shared a dark look with Peter. "They-they're here? In the castle?"

James, whose eyes were beginning to water, his mouth a stark line as he unsuccessfully attempted to stop his imminent laugh from being obvious. "I think it's brilliant!"

"Well, of course you think that, Prongs," Remus hissed, "but unluckily for you, and thankfully for us," he gestured first towards Peter and then at himself, "you're both in detention for the foreseeable and are therefore unable of depositing fifty penguins into the Slytherin common room."

"Peter'll do it," Sirius replied, confidently.

Remus shot Peter a look of contention. "No, he won't."

But, of course, as always, he did.

And so, he really ought to have thanked Sirius for that, too, considering his reputation in the aftermath had led to the first time he'd gone further with a girl than a quick kiss.

This was the year that everything was changing, and Peter Pettigrew, no longer a little lump of a boy, began to positively relish in it.