The famous trio were almost ready to proceed with their plan to break into Gringotts, and on the evening before they were scheduled to leave, I arrived in order to pick up Dean and Luna to take them to their families. I went to find them, and they were all gathered in the smallest room of the cottage, going over the plan though they all quickly silenced themselves with the door opened, holding their breath. "Only me." I assured them, and a collective exhale followed. "Do you have everything you need? This is your last chance to ask for more supplies. I also strongly suggest you using that phial of Liquid Luck tomorrow, you'll need it." Hermione promptly dug around in her purse before drawing out the phial of golden liquid I had managed to make for them all. "There's enough to last you each a couple of hours, so don't take it until you reach Gringotts."
"This will probably be the only reason we pull this off. We owe you for this, Mia." Harry said to me rather grimly as he sat on the end of the bed. "We owe you a lot."
"Well, you can pay me back by making sure you succeed. Honestly, if I have to come down and rescue you all again, I won't be happy." I joked as I folded my arms and leaned against the door, a muffling charm ensuring that we couldn't be overheard. "And you'll owe me for these too." Pulling out two wands from up my sleeve, I tossed one each to Ron and Hermione who both made sounds of exclamation.
"Our wands! Oh Mia! How did you…? How?"
"It wasn't easy, trust me, but I eventually managed to find the snatchers who took your wands. They had Dean's as well, I've already given it to him. It was lucky really, most snatchers make a habit of collecting the wands they take from their quarries as trophies. I just had to find the right gang. It was helpful to know that Greyback was one of them, he's more notable so his movements were easily to pin down, and Fawkes was a huge help. Getting them back was harder, but we managed. Just make sure not to lose them again. Keep them safe whilst you use those other wands in your disguises." I noticed that Ron had been using Wormtail's up until now, and seeing that I was looking at it, made him ask me about the previous owner.
"Where is Wormtail? Where did you take him?"
"He's being held by a couple of members of the Order along with a bunch of other people we've managed to capture and incarcerate. Once the war is over and the Ministry reformed, we're going to hand them over in order to stand trial." I explained to them and Harry looked at me with a rather unreadable expression.
"Have you talked to him?" I hesitated slightly, as honestly, the thought had occurred to me.
"No, I haven't, but I've been thinking about maybe going to see him. If I do, is there anything you want me to tell him from you?" From the look on his face, Harry seemed like he had a great many things he wanted to say but in the end, shook his head. I understand how he felt, we both had good reason to feel negatively about Wormtail, but according to Moody, he does nothing but snivel and cry all day and night. Part of me wanted to pity him, but then the other part of me refused to acknowledge any sense of decency towards a man who betrayed his friends. "I can't stay long, I came mostly to wish you all luck. It'll be fine." I told them with all the confidence I possessed. "I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"
No one answered me on that one, and I couldn't say I blamed them. Instead, I gave them a quick smile before I had to leave, since I was due on duty to watch over one of our safe houses where we kept a mixture of runaways and our prisoners. When the term prison comes to mind, one would think of cold, empty cells with bars for doors, miserable inmates locked away without any pleasure to be had. Not ours. In fact, our prisoners were treated rather well. Better than they deserved, anyway.
They each had their own room, masterfully charmed to keep them inside so even if we left the door wide open, they couldn't walk out. They had a bed, a bathroom each, a dresser with a change of clothes for each day of the week which were washed every Sunday, three square meals a day and plenty of books to occupy themselves with. None of them had any reason to complain, other than the fact they were trapped inside, but it was their own fault for being there. Taking over so that the other guard could go and get some sleep, I walked up and down, tapping my wand against the doors to make a window open and look inside before moving on.
I knew which one Wormtail was in before I had even looked inside, hearing the mewling sound of him crying before I then looked in. He was curled up on the bed, wearing a plain shirt and trousers from the clothes provided in the room and was gnawing on his pillow with a rather ratty characteristic about him. Dad had refused to see him, saying he couldn't be trusted not to kill him, and I didn't know whether or not Remus had looked in. In the spur of the moment, I tapped my wand upon the door and opened it, the creaking sound alerting Wormtail to my presence.
Watery eyes whipped around in order to stare at me and I noticed that the sleeve with the arm which no longer bore the silver hand hung limp and empty beside him. "H-Have you c-c-come to k-kill me?" He asked in a terrified whisper, making me quirk an eyebrow at him.
"You know, for a guy who fears death, you really have an odd way of trying to stay alive. Attaching myself to a man who kills people for sport wouldn't have been the way to go about it." I told him frankly, making Wormtail flinch and cower further into the corner of the room, chewing on the edge of the pillow. "Can you manage without your other hand?" I found myself asking, unable to help but find myself looking at the gaping emptiness in his sleeve where he'd cut off his own hand in order to revive his master. "Eating and things, can you manage?"
"Oh…oh yes, I can manage well enough, dear girl." He said to me, the trembling subsiding slightly as he blinked in surprise, not expecting any ounce of consideration for his own situation to be given by the enemy, least of all me. "You know, you look a great deal like your father. Not entirely, but your features are similar, and the way you carry yourself…it's like looking back in time." I glanced downward, checking my stance over and wondered what about it made me so similar to dad. "I remember you as a girl." He ploughed on, looking rather hopeful as he inched a little closer, probably expecting to appeal to my better nature to try and persuade me to free him. "Very young, you were, quite sweet and affectionate. You might not remember, but you used to sit upon my knee whilst I read you stories. Sometimes you'd carry me around as a rat and tell everyone I was your best friend."
"I don't remember." I told him quickly, though even as he spoke the words, a vague memory came to me of when I was very little, sitting on the floor with a brown rat in my lap, trying to tie a ribbon around its middle. Wormtail smiled at me sadly.
"We all loved you, Mia. All of us. James and Remus too. Remus was always afraid whenever you went near him, he never wanted to hurt you, but you always attached yourself to his leg and would cry until he'd pick you up. It were as if you knew that he wanted to hold you, but was too afraid to do so. You were such a bundle of light and joy, it was impossible not to love you." Unable to help myself, I smiled as I folded my arms and leaned against the doorframe.
"Now that I do slightly remember. However, I should probably warn you that nostalgia won't affect my opinion of you now. I won't set you free. I just wanted to talk a little." The hope that had started to arise in Wormtail's face quickly vanished, slumping back down once more. "I guess all I really want to know is why. Why did you betray your friends? From what you've said, you must have been happy with your life. Why would you throw it all away?" His face strained with pain and guilt, his single hand rising to cover the expression as if ashamed to reveal it to anyone.
"I don't…I don't know…you must understand, dear girl, what it was like back then. The Dark Lord was growing stronger, more and more were joining him every day, and then I was approached, invited to join him or to die like so many others. They were my friends, many of the people who died. The McKinnons, the Abbots, the Bones family, all of them, but I didn't want to die. I just…I just wanted to live."
"So you thought betraying your friends was the answer?" He flinched at my scathing tone, resuming his previous habit of chewing at his pillow.
"It is different for the others, for people like your father and James, they were brave and talented, whereas I am not a great proficient at magic at all, even simple spells often required a great deal of practice, whereas people like your father never seemed to need to put in any effort at all." He tried to explain to me, now refusing to meet my gaze. "I have no idea why I was put in Gryffindor, it always felt wrong, but then I made three wonderful friends and everything seemed to get better, but the war…the war was terrible…I was frightened…I am not brave!"
"No, no I don't think you are." I agreed, frowning slightly in thought, studying Wormtail carefully and finding he was nothing more than a cowardly and rather pitiful little man. "You know, there's something I learned about the Sorting Ceremony a long time ago. It took me a while to realise it, but once I figured it out, it made a lot more sense to me." Looking up in order to listen, I continued as Wormtail had his teeth fixed onto his pillow. "The Sorting Hat doesn't just sort you into the house that suits you best, it puts you in the house where you will reach your full potential. I wanted to be put in Hufflepuff, like my mother's family had been, but when I was sorted into Gryffindor, I cried injustice. I was convinced the Sorting Hat had been wrong, but after a while, I realised it had been right all along."
"How?" He asked me in a whisper, as if completely enraptured with my story.
"Because I learned to be bold. To be fearless. In Hufflepuff, I would have continued to be a quiet, studious girl that followed the rules. In Gryffindor, I made friends with the two greatest troublemakers ever to walk the corridors, and I learned courage and daring, discovering a side of me that I would never have found if I'd been placed in Hufflepuff. The Sorting Ceremony puts you in the house you're meant to be in, but that isn't to say you necessarily reflect the standards of the house. My friend Hermione, she's one of the cleverest witches of her age, and instead of Ravenclaw, she was put in Gryffindor to become friends with Harry and Ron, where she also learned how to be brave. Maybe that's what the Sorting Hat wanted for you too, only, you didn't learn." He sniffed slightly, looking miserable and saddened at the realisation.
Now that I had started talking, I found I couldn't stop, ploughing onwards as if in a bid to try and make this man see how wrong he had been to betray his friends, something I felt was one of the worst crimes a person could possibly commit. "Another friend of mine, Cedric, he was in Hufflepuff, but he's also brighter than most of the Ravenclaws. I know Ravenclaws who are rather dense, and Slytherins who are the nicest people I've ever met, and Hufflepuffs who are mean. The house you're sorted into doesn't necessarily reflect who you are. Gryffindors can be cowards, Hufflepuffs can be cruel, Ravenclaws can be dumb and Slytherins can be selfless. It's not all black and white. It's just…how people are used to it."
"Dear girl." Wormtail murmured, looking at me with that same, sad look in his eyes. "Your father must be so proud of you."
"I like to think so." Glancing around, I felt like there wasn't much more to say to one another so I reached inside in order to begin pulling the door closed, but before I did so, Wormtail spoke again.
"Why did you save my life?" I paused, surprised by the question and didn't have an answer ready for him as I had not considered a reason for my actions. "In the cellar, why save me? I am the man who put your father in prison for twelve years, the man who betrayed his friends and as good as killed Lily and James Potter by betraying them. I…I was the one to bring back the Dark Lord, to give way to all this…darkness. Why save a man such as I?" His eyes stared at me imploringly, desperate to know the truth and I found him so pitiful, that I couldn't help but respond.
"Because I don't want you to die before you have properly atoned for everything that you have done." I told him honestly and bluntly, my face void of all expression. "Until you have properly served your sentence, and at least felt a small measure of guilt and regret for all your crimes, I don't want you to have any peace of mind." He flinched, but didn't look away, still watching me closely.
"Do you…do you despise me, dear girl?" Considering for a moment, I weighed my thoughts carefully before arriving at a conclusion before once again speaking honestly and without malice.
"In truth, I do not resent you for being a coward, because I know that not everyone is born to be fearless and brave, and although your actions caused irrevocable harm, I don't think I hate you at all. If anything, I am apathetic towards you, and I would have it no other way." I told him, and Wormtail seemed uncertain of how to take my response. "Perhaps one day, when the war is over and we have won, and I have seen the rewards of goodness and peace all the pain and suffering we have gone through to persevere, I might even find myself soften, because I do remember you in my childhood, however faint those memories are." Pulling the door to slowly, I made to close it firmly, but when next he spoke, just before the door could click shut, the sound was weak and timid, as if fading out of notice in such a way that Wormtail would also just fade away into nothing also.
"Do you think they will ever forgive me?" My instinctive response was no, but as I looked through the gap to Wormtail, I once again felt a pang of pity, memories of him bubbling to the surface as they rose up as if having waited for this exact moment to return. I remembered him vaguely, but with certainty. Sitting on his knee whilst reading, the broad smiles and gentle hugs he'd always give me, holding my hands as he helped me walk unsteadily on my toddler feet…I could not deny that he had been a part of my life, and at one point, I had felt love towards him, as I did for all my father's friends. It was this feeling that allowed me to give a small degree of mercy towards him, and instead of telling him that he had no hope of forgiveness, I gave him a small, encouraging smile, speaking quietly before closing the door.
"Perhaps."