Hey, I'm sorry this took longer then I wanted it to. Anyway, to answer a question, everybody was wondering what Remus, Sirius, and James were doing at the water pitcher. The answer is…nothing! I was just trying to make a point about how left out and alone Peter is feeling right now. Anyway, in this chapter, the view switches from the "remembering" state to Peter's present state of mind, then switches back. This is set apart by several lines and is used because writing out the day-by-day description of his life would be boring and is not what I wanted to do with this story.

Thanks to all who review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the things associated with it. I wrote this story and the story line is mine. Peter's half-sister, Amelia, and his stepfather, Andrew, and his mother all belong to me.

A Rat's Tale

Christmas

The next morning, I woke up before everybody else. Remus was in the bed next to mine and James and Sirius were on the other side. I quickly grabbed a clean robe and some clothes out of my trunk and pulled the curtains closed to change. I headed down to the bathroom I'd found the other night and found an empty shower stall. After awhile, I heard James and Sirius' loud voices carry into the room. I quickly finished my shower and headed down to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was full of younger students who'd set out early in hopes of not getting lost. One of the horror stories that I'd heard from my mother was of the moving hallways and changing doors that loved it when you were late to class. I guess it wasn't just another story my mother had told me, because almost the entire first year population had turned out for breakfast pretty early. The only ones missing were Sirius and James. Even Remus was sitting at the Gryffindor table, piling food onto his plate and talking to Lily and Arabella. I walked over and sat down and joined in the conversation, probably one of the boldest things I'd ever done.

"First year schedules," a boy from down the table said, passing a pile of paper my way. I took it and sorted through them until I found mine, then passed it along to Remus. Potions with Slytherins, Herbology with Hufflepuffs, nothing with Ravenclaws, Transfiguration with McGonagall. I hadn't heard of or tried most of the things that the schedule said I would be learning about. People who are thought to be squibs don't learn about magic.

Suddenly, owls flew in through the windows, each directed at a different student. Parchment envelopes, newspapers, and packages fell from the sky, landing in front of students in the most inconvenient places. Remus managed to catch a letter before it fell into his bowl of porridge, opened it, then turned slightly red. The girls each had a small package of their own. Lily was looking at it and smiling, then began to tell Arabella about her father's fear of owls and how he couldn't understand why he couldn't just put a stamp on the package and have it delivered to Hogwarts. Arabella began to laugh at the story and was starting to tell one of her own when James and Sirius arrieved, freshly showered, at our table.

Both of them held smaller packages and a letter apiece, the owls obviously finding them before they had gotten to the table. They began to tear at the wrapping, James finding a box of chocolate frogs and Sirius getting a new deck of self-shuffling playing cards.

"…she says not to get in too much trouble…" I overheard Sirius telling James as he read the letter. James started to laugh and accidentally opened the box allowing one of the frogs to escape onto Lily's pile of toast.

"How much trouble is too much?" I heard myself ask. Both Sirius and James looked at me and grinned.

"Not enough," Sirius responded. He looked at the food piled on the table and grabbed the plate of eggs. "Did you get anything?"

I felt my ears beginning to turn red. Of course I hadn't received a thing. My mother had made it quite clear that once I entered Hogwarts, she wouldn't be in touch. My father couldn't care less about my existence. He only cared about his girlfriend and his job. "No, and I don't expect to."

Right away I knew that I had answered the question far to harshly. Sirius wasn't grinning anymore and James and Remus were both staring at me. "God, it was just a question, don't bite my head off."

"I'm sorry," I said, but I wasn't. I know that it was just an innocent question and I know that Sirius didn't know any better, but I couldn't help but snap. Wasn't it considered rude to ask a question like that? My parents could have been dead for all he knew. I don't know why, but this combined with the events of the other night sparked something inside of me. At that time, I didn't know what the feeling was. But now I do. It was the very beginnings of hate, something that I had only felt towards my family in the past.

At this moment, I don't hate anybody. Fear, yes, but hate, no. I don't really know why I began to hate Sirius that day. I guess it was because he had everything I didn't have; friends, parents. As the months went on, I began to build a stronger friendship with the three of them, however I always was slightly cautious around Sirius.

The next few days were typical first days of school. I was late to classes, I spilled potion ingredients, I blew things up, and I got a detention. However, those days were some of the best that I'd ever had. Hogwarts was finally starting to open itself up to me, and I was accepting it for all it had. Nothing especially exciting happened until Christmas of that year, when I was finally into the routine. James had opted to return home, but both Sirius and Remus' parents were taking vacations and had asked that they remain at Hogwarts. Lily was also returning home, much to the dismay of Arabella who had to spend the Christmas Holiday alone in their room. Everybody agreed that it was unusual to have only two Gryffindor girls, but neither of them were complaining. The night after the two of them had left; the four of us were sitting at one of the common room tables. Sirius and Remus were playing chess, Arabella was reading, and I was trying to figure out how to write an essay about a potion.

The chess pieces were one of the things that I liked most about the Wizard world. My mother had never let me play wizard games, saying that it was important that I get used to the Muggle way of living. I'd learned how to play chess, but my pieces had never moved and they certainly didn't tell me where to move them. It was obvious that Sirius didn't have much experience with the game either, but that was by choice. Remus, on the other hand, had lots of experience and was proving it by forcing Sirius into checkmate for the second time that night.

"Peter, do you need help with that?" Arabella asked, obviously bored from her book. I nodded, pushing the assignment and the parchment towards her. I didn't understand how you could write an essay about a potion. Was I supposed to write about the effects, the ingredients, or the reason behind making it? Arabella was looking over my blotched attempts and giggling to herself. "It would help if you knew what you were doing, wouldn't it?" she said.

"Yeah, it would," I answered. I listened as she began to explain to me what the Professor wanted when he had assigned the essay, but was soon distracted by yet another fight between Remus and Sirius. Sirius' chess pieces had gotten into the mood of the fight, each striking their own individual menacing stance across the board. It looked as if Remus had refused a third game, sighting bed as his reason. Sirius sighed and began to pack up his pieces. He looked at me watching to fight and a small smile came across his face. I turned back to Arabella. I'd learned in the past few months that any smile of Sirius' was dangerous.

"Peter, game?" he asked. His request didn't sound as life threatening as some of the other ones he'd made. I nodded my head, pulling the essay back from Arabella and putting it on the floor. I could finish it later.

"Remus, can I borrow your chess set?" I called behind me, but he wasn't there. I quickly grabbed the parchment, my potions book, quill, and ink and headed up the stairs to the first year boys dorm. I dumped all my stuff on my bed and walked over to Remus.

"Can I borrow your chess set?" I asked. Remus nodded and handed it to me. I could sense that something was wrong, something outside of the petty anger at Sirius for pushing him into something he didn't want to do. I decided that I would take a chance, "what's up?"

"Nothing, my mother's sick. I'll have to go home in a couple of days to visit her," Remus said quickly. He pulled his neatly folded pajamas out of his trunk and pulled the curtains closed around his bed. His quick departure and answer left me puzzled for a few moments. I started towards the door, then stopped.

"Didn't you say that your parents were going away for the holidays?" I asked. I heard Remus quietly swear under his breath and he pulled the curtains open.
"Peter, are we playing or not?" Sirius asked, startling me. I nodded my head and followed him out of the room and back down the common room, where Arabella was still sitting at the table. I set out Remus' chess set and began to play. After awhile, she joined me to remind me of the spaces. I kept picking up the pieces and moving them by accident, causing them to bite my fingers.

After a couple of games, the two of us headed up to the room. Remus was already asleep and Sirius soon followed the suite. I tossed and turned, but I couldn't fall asleep. Something that Remus had said wasn't adding up, but it wasn't any of my concern. Pushing that thought out of my head was easy, but it was quickly replaced by a more dreaded feeling. The next day was Christmas. I had gotten everybody boxes of candy that I had owl-ordered, but would they get me anything? My mother had told me not to come home. Was she going to ignore Christmas as well? Last year hadn't been very satisfying.

I had woken up and walked down the stairs to see my half-sister playing with piles of new toys and my mother and stepfather sipping coffee and smiling at a package or another. I bobbed my head at the quick scolding I'd received for waking up late and started on the smile pile of packages that my mother had beckoned to. The usual colored picture from my half-sister who had framed it in a collection of sticks tied together with pieces of grass that were beginning to rot. My stepfather had bought me Quidditch Through the Ages. My real father had forgotten Christmas all together this year. There wasn't a present from him in the stack. My mother handed me a small package with a book of potions in it. The book was very old, rotting at the corners. She'd gotten it from a second hand store while my half-sister romped through the piles of new dolls and magical coloring books. Christmas was always so special when you were being ignored.

"Presents!" I heard Sirius holler. I checked my watch. It was almost seven, an all time record for how late I had slept in on Christmas. He fell off the edge of his bed into the large pile of packages at the foot. Remus let out a sleepy laugh and joined him on the floor with his own pile. I tentatively followed, my stack not quite as large as either of theirs. Several boxes of candy, a couple of books, some magical tricks, and a nice set of quills later, I was done. Just as I had expected, there was nothing from either parent at the foot of my bed.

"Peter, I think that this is one of yours," Remus said, holding out large box. "I got it by accident." I pulled the box towards me and began to unwrap it. Sirius was already reminding us of the joy of dungbombs, causing me to rip off the paper faster. I opened the box to reveal a Shooting Star. It had several scratches along the handle and the name was smudged, but it was otherwise in fine condition. I pulled out a small envelope underneath the broom and opened it.

Peter,

Your mother won't approve of me sending this to you, but I don't have a son of my own to pass it onto. Amelia won't grow into this for years and by then, there will probably be a newer and better model on the market that your mother will purchase for her. I hope you enjoy it. I know that you are not allowed your own broomstick, so I suggest that you keep it under your bed at Hogwarts and not try to fly it until next year. My time at Hogwarts was some of the best years of my life. Cherish them

Your step-father, Andrew