Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Never have, never will. Satisfied?
When: Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. Sirius is on the run.
Where: Shrieking Shack, Hogsmeade.
Characters: Peter Pettigrew
Category: I think, angst.
AN: I like this one, so I hope you will too. This one actually took me over half an hour – I am very sorry, I have failed! Ah, well. Enjoy!
CHRISTMAS VARIETY BOX
Who am I?
Learn from your mistakes.
Proverb.
A saying people often use is: learn from your mistakes. What they don't realise is some people never get a chance. One of these people was Peter Pettigrew.
A cold frost lay across the ground, but no snow. There hadn't been a white Christmas in years.
Peter sat at the window, gazing out at the world. He had been allowed to go home for a day, to his family. How ironic. Instead, he returned to the place he had spent a lot of time as a child. The Shrieking Shack.
The village of Hogsmeade looked picturesque, rows of country house, their roofs white with frost. The sparse morning light sparkled on the frozen surfaces. It appeared perfect to Peter. It was very soothing for him, looking on a place with so much natural beauty. It helped to distract him from his thoughts.
But Hogsmeade was not enough to stop him remembering.
One question kept coming to him, and every time Peter pushed it to the back of his mind, it fought its way forwards. Who am I?
I am Peter Pettigrew, he told himself, but this didn't seem satisfactory. I'm spineless, friendless Peter, he thought, bitterly. No, he told himself, that's not true. I have friends.
His friends…or…not really, anymore. He had betrayed them, sold Lily and James to Voldermort. Given their lives to save his own. Where they would have died rather than betray the bonds of a close friendship. And the worst thing was, he knew, at the time, and yet, he still went ahead.
If he could change what he had done, he would in an instant. But, of course he couldn't. And Remus and Sirius could never forgive him. He didn't blame them, of course. He would do exactly the same in their situation.
He looked around at the shredded furniture, remembered their adventures at full moon. How foolish they had been…but…it was the only time Peter could truly say he was happy. At home he was a disappointment, not brave enough, not smart enough; when he was at primary school, he was picked on: the sad little loner with no real friends; and after they left school, he was thrown into Sirius and James's shadows, as they became aurors, powerful and mighty. He was just little powerless Peter, once more.
But when he had been a Maurader, he had been Wormtail. Someone whose opinion mattered, who had some value. Sure, he was still the weakest; a rat amongst a stag, a dog and a wolf; but he was amongst them. Peter Pettigrew, someone with worth, who would've thought? James, Sirius and Remus made him see that he was somebody and somebody they cared about too. They had shown him friendship at its highest levels. Friends…something he somewhat lacked in now.
Who am I? The question came back to haunt him.
I am Peter, a lonely follower of the Dark Lord. A weak man with nothing left to live for.
The Dark Lord had promised him so much, yet he had gained so little. He had lost more. Lost the only people he cared about, the only people who cared about him. When James and Lily died that night, part of him had died too. A spark had gone out and nothing could ignite it again. The matches had died.
And Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban, in hell, because of his mistake. And that was what it was: a mistake. Learn from your mistakes, thought Peter bitterly. It's too late. I've lost everything that I could lose.
Who am I?
I am Peter, a Marauder, friend of Padfoot, Prongs and Moony.
But he knew this was not true. He had broken the bonds of friendship the night he joined Voldermort. The bonds could never be retied.
He thought back to the Christmases he had spent with his friends. Laughing and joking; revelling in the joy of being young, carefree. Innocence was lost to all of them now. They had been forced to grow up, all of them, and fast, when they left Hogwarts. The Dark Lord forced many to change, him most of all.
But maybe that wasn't true. Had he changed? It didn't feel like it. Of course, he had done some things he would never dreamed of doing, but he didn't feel any different.
I am still Peter; still a Marauder, he thought desperately, but lies were not enough to placate him.
Who am I?
I am Peter, betrayer.
AN: I hope you liked that one because I think it is my favourite! Review please!!