There was a short, chubby, brown haired man running. In the distance a man's shout of anger could be heard.

Turning around a corner, the man stopped in the middle of a muggle neighborhood. The only light came from a lamp post in the distance.

"PETER" The man's voice screamed again. Turning around quickly, Peter looked in the direction he just came running from.

Before him was the man. He had black shoulder length hair and grey eyes, wet from tears. He was shaking slightly and looked as if he would fall over at any second.

Peter acted quickly, screaming for all to hear "YOU KILLED JAMES AND LILY. HOW COULD YOU SIRIUS?" Peter saw the lights turning on in the houses nearby, muggles waking due to the noice outside.

Sirius stared, uncomprehending. "THEY TRUSTED YOU. YOU WERE MEANT TO KEEP THEIR SECRET. BUT YOU SOLD THEM OUT TO THE DARK LORD, DIDN'T YOU." His shouts could be heard clearly. No one could misinterpret them. Sirius looked on with dawning comprehension. But he couldn't make himself act, so shocked was he that he wasn't able to deny the lies coming from Peter's mouth.

Peter, who was one of his best friends, Wormtail the Secret Keeper, Wormtail the rat, the lying, traitorous rat who practically killed his brother James and his wife. He had betrayed them.

He started to laugh. It was Peter. He was the spy in the Order, he was the Death Eater, he was the person he trusted, James trusted, they all trusted. Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew betrayed them and he would never have guessed.

It was hilarious. The coward who somehow made it into Gryffindor, hanging onto all of their coatails had mustered up the courage to betray them all.

Peter looked at his hysterical friend and to the muggle onlookers. He saw a woman with a device to her ear, Aurors should be here soon. He needed to act and quickly. He raised his wand in Sirius' direction, causing the man to stop laughing and take on a defensive stance.

"He wasn't meant to die. He said he would spare him. He only wanted the child." Peter confessed loud enough for only the two wizards to hear. Peter pointed to his pinky on the hand not holding his wand and before Sirius could respond, he cut it off and right after pointed his wand to the side and screamed, Bonbarda. Sirius was an Auror and Peter knew that he couldn't beat him in a fight. But Peter didn't need to beat him, he just needed to escape.

And escape he did. Transforming into his animagus form, Peter rushed to the opening of a gutter nearby. Ignoring the sting coming from his hand. He ignored the explosion in the background and the sound of people screaming. The smell of smoke and burning flesh burned his nostrils.

But all of that was second to his survival. Self-preservation was his main concern.

Years past and Peter continued hiding. Afraid of what the Death Eaters would do to him if he showed his face. Would they kill him for leading their Lord to his death? Torture him for information on You-Know-Who? Would Sirius find and kill him? Or would the Ministry find out what he did?

Peter wandered England. He had no destination and no real home to go to. But one day during the summer while going through a muggle neighborhood he saw a ghost.

The houses were identical to each other, all the same with only small differences like each of his days resently. There was no reason for this day to be different than the rest. But it was. He was looking in a flower bush for something to eat when he heard the voices of some children.

Wary that they would see him and scream like had happened countless times before, he went further into the bush to hide but there was a small gab in the leaves for him to see out of.

There was multiple pairs of sneakers bundled together at one side and one pair of shoes that had seen better days on the other side, the side closer to him.

There was a scuffle when suddenly the person wearing the lone pair of shoes was pushed to the ground. A few more moments past when suddenly the boy was kicked from all sides and had things thrown at.

When the group of boys left and the abused body of the boy stilled, Peter slowly made his way out of the bush and closer to the boy. All he could see was a nest of dirty, messy hair. The closer he got the clearer the boy became.

He had ill fitting round glasses with a crack on one lence and held together with some tape. His nose was straight and cheeks that should have been round with youth were sunken. He had an aristocratic look to him. His skin was tanned and the only thing that ruined his bronze completion was a pale scar to one side of his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt.

It was James. But different. A ghost. But alive.

He was being haunted by his past. This is his punishment.

He moved closer to see if he was real and not just a phantom of his imagination. Poking James cheek carefully, Peter backed away quickly when he met flesh.

Green eyes opened. Green like the killing curse. Green like the grass. Green like Lily's eyes.

Lily's eyes on James' face.

Harry.

The Boy-Who-Lived. The baby that defeated the Dark Lord. James' son. Lily's son.

He was here, right in front of him. He was here and he had just been beaten up by a group of boys.

Brave and arrogant James Potter's son was being bullied and by the looks of his clothes and glasses, abused.

Harry started talking but Peter was barely listening. He was too focused on his thoughts and it wasn't until Harry moved closer that Peter snapped out of it and move away.

But in the end he let Harry carry him home. He didn't know why he stayed, he knew he should have run. He should have left straight away when he realized that he wasn't imagining him, but the knowledge that this is James' son in front of him made him stay.

The blonde and fat man, who looked like a larger version of his son was yelling and the horse like woman was screeching. Harry was squeezing him to his chest and Peter was starting to regret his decision to stay.

Peter was focused on Harry's face and the feeling of his arms around him. He only started paying attention to the outside world when the fat man grabbed Harry's collar.

How dare this muggle touch Harry. He was about to try and lunge at him but Harry made a run for a door under the stairs. Peter was a bit confused as to why he would go there when he should have went up the stairs, to where he presumed his bedroom would be.

The cupboard was dark and smelled of sweat, cleaning supplies and blood. There was a small cot full of stains with a threadbare blanket and some small broken toys.

This was Harry's room, Peter realized. When Harry let him down he started to explore the 'room' a bit. He noticed a sign by the door, written in a child's handwriting 'Harry's Room'.

"Wormy"

Peter looked over quickly and stilled. Did he know? How could he know who he is?

But then Peter noticed that it wasn't recognition in Harry's eye's, just excitement. And excitement isn't the emotion Harry would feel if he was looking at the person who helped in his parent's deaths.

Peter who was now going to be called Wormy, like the shortened version of his nickname, Wormtail, wondered what the future had in-store for him.

Ok I didn't think anyone was gonna read this and especially so soon, so thanks for that lads. I'm not sure if I should upload the next chapter when I finish writing it or if I should just write the whole thing and update consistently since it would be done but that would take a bit and you would have to wait a while.

The first chapter of this was just to see if anyone would be interested in this idea. I was gonna write it even if no one read it just because.

It might be a while before I update again so try not to abandon me.

Blah blah blah review, blah blah blah favorite, blah blah blah follow, you know the usual author notes that no one actually reads.