I just realized in my last chapter I went a little AU because Sirius went to the destroyed house of the Potters, gave Hagrid his motorcycle, then he got framed for the murder afterwords. So if any readers noticed that—good job! I'm not going to really talk about the motorcycle so it doesn't really affect the fanfiction (my lame excuse for not wanting to change up chapter 5 for the sole sake of that one problem). Okay, that done—enjoy the fic!

Chapter 6

Peter's perspective

I stumbled over the dust and debris that had settled around the house.

"No . . . " I let the words fall from my mouth. It didn't mater anymore—the Dark Lord was dead, taking my two of my best friends with him. I looked at the wreckage: the house had been blown apart partially—probably by a powerfully rebounding curse, and half of the house seemed to have caved in. I pounded up the stairs to see anything of Lily and James—right now their corpses would've been fine to see. I just wanted to see them. I searched around and I heard a small cry.

It was a child's wail—Harry! I ran towards the crying, desperate to find something that would remind me of James and Lily. I saw the little boy in the remains of his crib. He had tears in his eyes and his green eyes seemed to ask: why? Why did they have to die? I looked down and I saw Lily sprawled on the ground, her hair falling around her gracefully. She had a serene peace about her that was only brought in death.

"Lily," I whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I wept pitifully, all the while, Harry stared at me unblinkingly.

Now . . . where was James? I walked out of the bedroom, and looked around. Then I saw it—under a thin pile of rubble, James was visible. I brushed away the pieces of plaster that had fallen from the house. James was in the hallway . . . he'd probably tried to save Lily and buy her some time, I guessed, knowing how reckless James was to defend the people he cared about. I stood up and I decided someone else would find and take care of Harry—I didn't think I could stand the guilt if I saw a living copy of James walking around with Lily's vivid green eyes silently asking me why his parents died. I wouldn't be able to answer the question.

Stumbling ungracefully down the stairs, I remembered when James was attempting to do washing the laundry the muggle-way and had unceremoniously tripped onto his face when he was going down the stairs. Luckily his fall had been broken by the basket which had been overflowing with clothes. I smiled sadly as I remembered more memories from the house that was now destroyed. Because of me. That one thought kept nagging at me—it was my fault and no one else's that James and Lily were dead. Harry had been lucky that he'd survived.

I glanced at the charred fireplace and I was hit by another wave of nostalgia. Sirius had used floo powder to get in and he had bumped his head on the top of the fireplace where he managed to make the little bronze whale paper-weight fall onto his head. He'd gotten up immediately after, assuring Lily that he was fine and 'had a very thick skull'.

So many memories to haunt me forever. So many . . . .

I looked around and pushed the Potters to the back of my mind. I needed to hide—after all, I was supposed to be dead right now. Where could I hide? Being a rat animigus had it's advantages, but I wasn't exactly eager to live in the sewers with the rest of the rats for the rest of my life. I also needed to be able to access a newspaper to check up on Sirius.

I recalled at the Hogwarts express, on the day I met James, Sirius, and Remus, there was a boy who was looking around for his pet rat . . . . Not that I was particularly pleased with my choice, it was better than my original solution of becoming a sewer rat. "Pet shop it is," I muttered under my breath. Somehow I wasn't eager to be stroked and petted like an animal for the rest of my life . . . .

A few months later . . .

Normal perspective

"As a congratulations for starting Hogwarts, we got you a pet!" Arthur Weasly told his son cheerfully, ignoring the fact they were too poor to buy a proper owl.

Molly Weasly burst into fresh tears and handed Percy his pet—a rat. "W-what will you name him?" she asked, voice quivering at the thought of her child growing up.

"Well, he isn't . . . the cleanest," Percy was careful to stay away from the words 'best' or 'prettiest', knowing it would only upset everyone. "But, that can be fixed up. He's a bit shabby but I like it!" Percy grinned. He starred in interest at the scab that covered the rat's toe that had been cut off somehow.

Molly and Arthur smiled in relief that their son wasn't in complete hatred of the old rat.

"He has a battle-scar covering his toe!" He announced. "I'm going to name him Scabbers—because of his scab—get it?" he said cheerfully. The rat squeaked, and squirmed around in the boy's tight grip.

Bill walked down the stairs, "Hey mum, dad," he nodded at Arthur. Bill had recently graduated from Hogwarts and he was excited for his little brother. "Erm, where's Charlie?" he asked.

"He's probably still reading about dragons. Honestly, we get him a old book about dragons and suddenly it's his obsession!" Molly huffed in a way that let the kid know she was only joking. Somehow only mothers seemed to be able to pull off the tone.

"Well, that's what he wants to be when he finishes figuring out requirements and such," Bill said. He was only a few years older than Charlie, but he could understand what it was like to have a obsession over something . . . like how the boys at Hogwarts fawned over girls right? "Nice rat Percy. What's his name?"

"Scabbers," Percy was pleased to have the attention on him again.

"He looks a bit old, how old is he?" Bill inspected the rat with interest. The rat squeaked in discomfort and unknowing to the Weasly's it was very annoyed at being examined like a . . . like a lab rat. He had a feeling this was going to be a long term.

Five years later, Hogwarts express . . .

"Hi, my name's Ron Weasly," the red head said nervously. He had good reason to be jittery too—Harry Potter was sitting right in front of him.

"I'm Harry Potter," the other boy said, his emerald green eyes were scanning everything with great interest.

"I-is it true? That you lived with muggles?" Ron asked hesitantly, knowing many wizards would take this to offense.

"Yeah," Harry said. His eyes found a bulged lump in Ron's pocket. "What's that?"

To the rat's protest, Scabbers—or Peter—was brought out. He opened an eye blearily, and was surprised to see non-other than Harry Potter himself. They boy who's parents he had been responsible for killing . . . . The rat squeaked guiltily, but as it was a rat, neither Harry nor Ron could understand its whims.

"He's a old fat rat, used to be Percy's but now he's head boy and I got . . . this," Ron picked up Scabbers gingerly. The rat had a plump belly and it resumed sleeping, seeing there was no reason to be awake.

"Umm . . . " a small voice came from outside the compartment. It was a chubby short boy with nervous eyes, the rat looked at him and thought he looked a lot like someone from school . . . oh yes, Frank and Alice Longbottom. Another couple who had been victims of the Dark Lord. The rat avoided eye-contact with the boy, more guilt searing through him. Would he have to deal with seeing all the Dark Lord's victims' children? He didn't think he could stand that.

"H-have any of you see a toad?" the boy made hand-gestures to show the toad was a plump one. "Oh, r-right, I'm Neville Longbottom," the boy stuttered. The rat sighed nostalgically, the boy was just like him. To Ron though, it looked like Scabbers was just going into a deeper stage of sleep.

"All he does it sleep . . ." Ron groaned, looking down at Scabbers. Little did he know that his rat was listening carefully to the boys.

"No, we haven't though we'll tell you if we find him," Harry spoke up and Neville nodded in thanks. He closed the sliding glass door and headed onto the next compartment. Settling back in their seats, Harry and Ron pulled out a game of exploding snap . . . .

Two years later . . .

Peter's perspective

I woke up suddenly from the nightmare and I shook my furry head blearily. I opened my eyes in shock—why was I in a cage?! Then I got my bearings and I remembered my monotonous life—I was a pet rat to a Weasly boy . . . Ron, and I was currently hiding from the death eaters and my ex-friends—both whom wanted to kill me. Starting the day with that positive thought, I stretched sleepily and remembered to check the newspaper.

I scurried downstairs to look at the paper. It had been about twelve years since the night, but it still kept sneaking into my nightmares, even though I tried as hard as I could to forget Lily and James. It didn't help that I was plagued with seeing a doppelganger of James every time Harry came to Ron's house—which was unfortunately, quite a lot.

I was quietly pleased though, that Harry had such good friends in Hermione and Ron, as it was my fault he didn't have loving parents to care for him. Hopefully his tale wouldn't end with such tragedy as mine. I peered at the newspaper and I felt shock course through me, almost making me lose concentration and break out of my animigus form.

But it couldn't be! Right when I'd been starting to accept my life as I knew it he had to come back in my life! Now he would also probably want to kill me for what I did as well. Betraying him like I did. I snuck another look at the paper and hoped I'd seen the headline incorrectly. Naturally, as my luck went, I'd read it perfectly correct: SIRIUS BLACK, MASS-MURDERER HAS ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN!

A shiver went down my little rat spine, and I knew, he was coming for me. I just wondered if I would have to guts to give myself over.