Chapter four: Everything I want to say.
You wonder why I don't talk to you anymore
and please believe me when I say
it's not that I don't want to,
it's just that everything I want to say
I can't tell you anymore.
Peter Pettigrew:
I never thought this would happen to me. I was never the popular one at Hogwarts, always in the background, never given a chance to show that I was every bit the marauder James and Sirius were. I was the one who persuaded Snivellus to go and talk to Sirius in the Fifth year when Sirius played that prank with the whomping willow. I was the one who would scout around the castle when we were transformed. Yet whenever people thought of the marauders, it was always Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and the tag-along.
After one battle, I was captured by the death eaters. I was held in a dark space where I barley had room to breathe. I never knew how long i was down there; I only remember screaming inside my mind. For all I knew, they had just locked me in a box and left me. And then they came for me. They took me away from my personal hell and they helped me.
Helped me realise how foolish I'd been up 'til then. They opened my eyes to the sick world I had believed in. They taught me the truth of the wizarding world; there is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it.
There was no point on refusing them. I was just too tired to resist. There was no point, no how of ever defeating him. I did as they asked of me. True, I barely went on any missions, and I was a mere spy, but I still felt that they appreciated my talents more than James or Sirius ever had.
They never even thought to ask where I was going, or what I was doing. They barely noticed I had left half the time.
Apart from the werewolf. It started a few weeks ago, and since then, whenever I turn rounding can see him there. He is always watching me, the filthy creature. I want to shout at him, to shatter that calm facade he puts up for the rest when I know he burns constantly in rage. I have known werewolves, true werewolves not tame ones like Lupin. They are always ready to rip your throat out if you look at them the wrong way. I know that Lupin could do the same. But he hides his true nature from the rest of the order. In a way he is as much of a liar as I am. Yet he could not do as I have done.
However, we were becoming concerned that the Werewolf was a dangerous ally for the enemy to have, and he was beginning to suspect one of their best spies. Really, he had no chance. I framed him. I forged evidence, documents, I altered records, I did everything in my power to make it seem as though it was Lupin that was the traitor rather than I.
And it made me happy to think how he was soon going to be brought down to the level were he belonged.
So I suppressed the voice in my head, of the small, underdeveloped unappreciated boy I had been. The voice that was crying every time I hammered another nail into Lupin's coffin.
I'm doing this for US. For myself, and for the boy I used to be; the tag along.