"Peter Piper picked a pack of pickled peppers. A pack of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a pack of picked peppers, then where's the pack of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?" the boy smiles his toothless smile and turns to his sister, a look of contempt on his face. "Your turn now,"
"Peter Piper picked a pack of pickled peppers, a pack of pic- pick" Laughter. I walk past the two Muggle children, an odd ringing in my ears. Peter: I see a plump, clumsy boy with a pointed nose and small, watery eyes. I see the boy grow, grow into a man, a man with the same pointed nose and watery eyes. Piper: The Pied Piper: I see rats. Swarms of them. I see one particular rat clearer than the rest. A rat wit a missing finger. The rat transforms, changes into the man. The man that is Peter Pettigrew.
A growl forms in my throat, I draw back my lips, exposing my fangs, I arch my back, entire body trembling with rage. The growl escapes my jaws, making the Muggle children start. The boy says," Ooh, the dog is growling, maybe he sees a ghost. Dogs growl when they see ghosts." He reaches out with his hand," Here, doggy, " I snap at him. Beat it, kid, or I'll be seeing your ghost. They scream and run away.
I continue to walk down the street, my paws hardly producing any noise as I padded along. It has been a while since I last heard the squeak of my feet on the floorboards. Stop that, Sirius, It's driving my nuts, my mother would say. I would laugh, and continue walking. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. They don't have floorboards in Azkaban. Pad. Pad. Pad.
My mind returns to the rat. I see James. I see him smiling, laughing. My heart aches. I'm sorry, pal, it's all my fault. Tears sting my eyes, blur my vision. My wet nose gets wetter. I howl. I want to launch myself at the rat, tear him from limb to limb. Like what Harry tried to do to me. Harry. I can still see the anger and the grief in his eyes, that night he attacked me. I deserved what I got. I can still see him in that state, raining his fists down on me.
The sun had begun to set, casting a red glow on the Muggle town. I turn right. Suddenly, I see Prongs. He lowers his magnificent head, charging me playfully with his antlers. I prance out of his way, wanting to laugh. Even Moony looks amused. I cuff him lightly to wipe that silly look off his face. Prongs paws the ground impatiently. What are we waiting for, Padfoot? You're wasting time. We go off into the forest, Wormtail following behind.
The stars are out. I see Canis Major, with Sirius, the brightest star in the heavens above. I wonder what it must be like, to be a celestial being in the sky. I pick out the form of Lupus, the wolf. Only the dog and the wolf. No stag or rat.