Title: Odd One Out Author: Apocalypse1 Disclaimer: Not mine. In fact, Rowling's.
Peter feels cold. The cigarettes aren't helping, and neither is the furry cloak.
The knot of fear in his stomach is something he's used to by now. It's a wonder he hasn't lost some weight, considering the nervous anxiety that he's been living with, constantly, since the agent approached him. It's become clear to him that he doesn't want to do it, and that he's almost surprised by his reluctance.
Odd one out. Third wheel, in a group of four. He doesn't know how he's managed it. He thinks it's been growing like that for a long time, possibly even when they first discovered what his Animagus was.
It's not that they don't find him useful. But he's sure there was a time when they used to enjoy his company. He's sure that at the beginning, the inequality between them hadn't been so pronounced. He struggled in school, of course - not as much as some. He was a good wizard, talented, but not as clever as Remus, not as confident as James, not as charismatic as Sirius. He was loyal. It had been what made him who he was, gave him a place in the group. They trusted him. They trust him still.
He trusts them, too. But not the same way. They trust him to be a follower, to do what he's asked, to like them even when they ignore him. Boys outgrow their school friends.
His mother, before she died, had advised caution. "Boys outgrow their school friends. Watch out you don't get hurt." His father had approved. "Follow the money. Follow the blood. Ingratiate yourself with Black, it's a good idea. Maybe when he's grown up he'll get you a position somewhere. Those are good connections you're cultivating."
Not that he'd listened.
It's not just fear that knots his stomach. He's not sure if he's just rationalizing - in fact he probably is - but Peter feels that they betrayed him long before he ever considered betraying them.
Not in any concrete way. Nothing he can put his finger on. They just ... have outgrown him.
Sirius. His confidence, his beauty, his laughter. More mature now than when they met - naturally; they'd met at age eleven; the dick and fart jokes are no longer as prevalent - but still sly, still wry, still a very strong physical presence. He tends to lounge on things, sprawling like the great big dog he is. Cocky. Peter feels like he deserves to be taken down a peg. When Remus was going through the pain of turning into a werewolf, when James was pining after a girl who barely glanced at him except to roll her eyes in chill disdain, when Peter was writhing in the secret agonies of an insecure adolescence - where was Sirius? Laughing. Smirking. Sprawling. Where was the insecurity? The pain? The self-loathing? Then again, why did there have to be any? Everyone loved Sirius Black. As far as Peter can tell, everyone still does. With a few exceptions, like that weasel Severus. Hell - Peter loved Sirius. Still does, even though he has to admit he hates him, too. Because he always gets what he wants - always has - and Peter never does. (Soon that will change. Peter still doesn't know how he feels about that.)
James. His talent, his strength, his ferocity. James stops at nothing, never has, never will. Rules don't apply to James. Censure flows off him like water. He gets what he wants, too. Not as mockingly, not as lazily, not as easily as things come to Sirius, though. But maybe James is a little more real. He wanted Lily for a long time, a very long time, before he got her. And to get her he had to change. He's quieter. Stronger. More mature. But he doesn't need Peter anymore. He ignores him, as best he can. The worship that used to make his eyes shine, it just makes him uncomfortable. Peter loves James, but he hates him, too. Because James doesn't take him seriously. Because James looks at him and all he sees is the pudgy little boy that used to follow him around, a bit like a tugboat. He looks at him and sees the old hero worship. He doesn't know that Peter deserves respect. (Hell - Peter doesn't know whether or not he deserves respect. He just knows that he doesn't get any, not from the only people in the world who he feels ought to give it to him.)
Lily. Lily Evans. Lily Potter. Whoever she is, now. Peter doesn't know what to think about her. He'd hated her, when she'd hated James, just as a matter of principle. He resents her for what she's done to James - having changed him - despite the fact that objectively the changes were probably for the better. He resents the fact that James loves her so much. That Remus can turn to her for comfort when he doesn't even think to turn to Peter. That Sirius has forgiven her for taking James away from him. Peter resents her for a lot of things, not least of which the fact that she is kind to him, treats him like a human being, with seeming respect, but really she doesn't have the right. She's only doing it because she likes to think she's a nice person, and he's one of her husband's oldest friends. Peter suspects that she doesn't like him very much, and Peter is not in the habit of liking people who don't return the favor. (Or actually, he is. Which is the problem.)
Remus. Sweet Remus, clever Remus, kind Remus, tortured Remus. Of them all, Peter doesn't hate Remus. He's not sure he can. Remus never makes Peter feel unwelcome. Not on purpose, anyway. Sometimes Sirius sweeps him away, but that's understandable. Sirius is a powerful presence. Remus's strength is quieter, more self-contained. He doesn't always get what he wants - he does what must be done, and he lives with the consequences. Remus has always lived with the consequences. He was the conscience, the one who cared, the one who protected. The one who covered James and Sirius's asses when they'd gone too far, even when they didn't deserve it. Peter loves him still and feels guilty for not loving him best before. But James and Sirius were so bright and colorful and strong and noisy, such fiery boys for him to glom onto, that Remus's paler, quieter light faded into the background. Not anymore.
That's why he doesn't want to do this. That's why he hesitates. Because although he loves Sirius and James, he hates them, too, and what he's about to do to them is easier because of the hatred, the resentment, and the distance that has grown between them as they've grown older.
He hesitates because of Remus. Because of what he knows this will do to him. Because the one true friend he has - the one who has suffered more pain than any of them, even possibly Peter, who puts a very high value on his own pain - will be hurt so greatly because of this. Of course, he won't be dead and he won't be imprisoned, so he'll be the best off of all of them - but he'll still have to live, believing that his closest friend - his dearest friend - the one who he loves best - that Sirius killed his two other best friends, betrayed them all, and went ... to the Dark Lord.
But as much as Peter loves Remus, he loves himself more. And he has to do it. He's agreed to it. The Dark Lord understands about the hatred and the resentment. And the Dark Lord will keep him alive. The Dark Lord will protect him, in ways that he doesn't believe his friends will. Because they don't understand that he is important. He's just there. Just Peter Pettigrew. Just silly little pudgy Peter, who would never amount to anything really. They like him - pity him - tolerate him - but they don't care about him. Not really. Because they don't think he's at all important.
But Peter is important.
And the Dark Lord knows that.
Peter feels cold. The cigarettes aren't helping, and neither is the furry cloak.
The knot of fear in his stomach is something he's used to by now. It's a wonder he hasn't lost some weight, considering the nervous anxiety that he's been living with, constantly, since the agent approached him. It's become clear to him that he doesn't want to do it, and that he's almost surprised by his reluctance.
Odd one out. Third wheel, in a group of four. He doesn't know how he's managed it. He thinks it's been growing like that for a long time, possibly even when they first discovered what his Animagus was.
It's not that they don't find him useful. But he's sure there was a time when they used to enjoy his company. He's sure that at the beginning, the inequality between them hadn't been so pronounced. He struggled in school, of course - not as much as some. He was a good wizard, talented, but not as clever as Remus, not as confident as James, not as charismatic as Sirius. He was loyal. It had been what made him who he was, gave him a place in the group. They trusted him. They trust him still.
He trusts them, too. But not the same way. They trust him to be a follower, to do what he's asked, to like them even when they ignore him. Boys outgrow their school friends.
His mother, before she died, had advised caution. "Boys outgrow their school friends. Watch out you don't get hurt." His father had approved. "Follow the money. Follow the blood. Ingratiate yourself with Black, it's a good idea. Maybe when he's grown up he'll get you a position somewhere. Those are good connections you're cultivating."
Not that he'd listened.
It's not just fear that knots his stomach. He's not sure if he's just rationalizing - in fact he probably is - but Peter feels that they betrayed him long before he ever considered betraying them.
Not in any concrete way. Nothing he can put his finger on. They just ... have outgrown him.
Sirius. His confidence, his beauty, his laughter. More mature now than when they met - naturally; they'd met at age eleven; the dick and fart jokes are no longer as prevalent - but still sly, still wry, still a very strong physical presence. He tends to lounge on things, sprawling like the great big dog he is. Cocky. Peter feels like he deserves to be taken down a peg. When Remus was going through the pain of turning into a werewolf, when James was pining after a girl who barely glanced at him except to roll her eyes in chill disdain, when Peter was writhing in the secret agonies of an insecure adolescence - where was Sirius? Laughing. Smirking. Sprawling. Where was the insecurity? The pain? The self-loathing? Then again, why did there have to be any? Everyone loved Sirius Black. As far as Peter can tell, everyone still does. With a few exceptions, like that weasel Severus. Hell - Peter loved Sirius. Still does, even though he has to admit he hates him, too. Because he always gets what he wants - always has - and Peter never does. (Soon that will change. Peter still doesn't know how he feels about that.)
James. His talent, his strength, his ferocity. James stops at nothing, never has, never will. Rules don't apply to James. Censure flows off him like water. He gets what he wants, too. Not as mockingly, not as lazily, not as easily as things come to Sirius, though. But maybe James is a little more real. He wanted Lily for a long time, a very long time, before he got her. And to get her he had to change. He's quieter. Stronger. More mature. But he doesn't need Peter anymore. He ignores him, as best he can. The worship that used to make his eyes shine, it just makes him uncomfortable. Peter loves James, but he hates him, too. Because James doesn't take him seriously. Because James looks at him and all he sees is the pudgy little boy that used to follow him around, a bit like a tugboat. He looks at him and sees the old hero worship. He doesn't know that Peter deserves respect. (Hell - Peter doesn't know whether or not he deserves respect. He just knows that he doesn't get any, not from the only people in the world who he feels ought to give it to him.)
Lily. Lily Evans. Lily Potter. Whoever she is, now. Peter doesn't know what to think about her. He'd hated her, when she'd hated James, just as a matter of principle. He resents her for what she's done to James - having changed him - despite the fact that objectively the changes were probably for the better. He resents the fact that James loves her so much. That Remus can turn to her for comfort when he doesn't even think to turn to Peter. That Sirius has forgiven her for taking James away from him. Peter resents her for a lot of things, not least of which the fact that she is kind to him, treats him like a human being, with seeming respect, but really she doesn't have the right. She's only doing it because she likes to think she's a nice person, and he's one of her husband's oldest friends. Peter suspects that she doesn't like him very much, and Peter is not in the habit of liking people who don't return the favor. (Or actually, he is. Which is the problem.)
Remus. Sweet Remus, clever Remus, kind Remus, tortured Remus. Of them all, Peter doesn't hate Remus. He's not sure he can. Remus never makes Peter feel unwelcome. Not on purpose, anyway. Sometimes Sirius sweeps him away, but that's understandable. Sirius is a powerful presence. Remus's strength is quieter, more self-contained. He doesn't always get what he wants - he does what must be done, and he lives with the consequences. Remus has always lived with the consequences. He was the conscience, the one who cared, the one who protected. The one who covered James and Sirius's asses when they'd gone too far, even when they didn't deserve it. Peter loves him still and feels guilty for not loving him best before. But James and Sirius were so bright and colorful and strong and noisy, such fiery boys for him to glom onto, that Remus's paler, quieter light faded into the background. Not anymore.
That's why he doesn't want to do this. That's why he hesitates. Because although he loves Sirius and James, he hates them, too, and what he's about to do to them is easier because of the hatred, the resentment, and the distance that has grown between them as they've grown older.
He hesitates because of Remus. Because of what he knows this will do to him. Because the one true friend he has - the one who has suffered more pain than any of them, even possibly Peter, who puts a very high value on his own pain - will be hurt so greatly because of this. Of course, he won't be dead and he won't be imprisoned, so he'll be the best off of all of them - but he'll still have to live, believing that his closest friend - his dearest friend - the one who he loves best - that Sirius killed his two other best friends, betrayed them all, and went ... to the Dark Lord.
But as much as Peter loves Remus, he loves himself more. And he has to do it. He's agreed to it. The Dark Lord understands about the hatred and the resentment. And the Dark Lord will keep him alive. The Dark Lord will protect him, in ways that he doesn't believe his friends will. Because they don't understand that he is important. He's just there. Just Peter Pettigrew. Just silly little pudgy Peter, who would never amount to anything really. They like him - pity him - tolerate him - but they don't care about him. Not really. Because they don't think he's at all important.
But Peter is important.
And the Dark Lord knows that.