- - Chapter One - -
--Ottery St Catchpole--
-The Burrow-
A short, skinny, red-headed boy searched furiously through his small bedroom. He'd searched high and low, in the corners, under his desk, and even in the small hole in the wall next to his door. Ten-year-old Percy Weasley pushed his horn rimmed glasses further up on his nose as he searched under his bed for the fifth time that morning.
"He's got to be here somewhere," he muttered. Percy stood up and looked around his room for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Two pairs of loud footsteps sounded in the bedroom above his, and were quickly followed by a crash... and silence.
Percy rolled his eyes pompously and sighed. Twins are awake, he thought.
With another heavy sigh, Percy smoothed his robes and headed downstairs for breakfast. He arrived in the kitchen to find his other red headed siblings loading their plates with eggs and sausages. His father was busy reading the Daily Prophet, while his mother finished fussing over breakfast.
Percy walked around the table and sat in his normal spot: between Bill and his mother. He quickly scooped a small amount of eggs onto his plate before Charlie had the chance to realize there were any left and take them for himself. Percy looked around the table once again and waited for his mother to finally sit.
"Mother," Percy began, "have you seen Scabbers anywhere?"
Molly Weasley finished cutting up Ginny's breakfast, and began to open her mouth to reply, when a shrill cry erupted on the other side of the table.
"Fred! George! Honestly, can't we get through one meal without the two of you causing trouble?" Molly yelled.
It seemed that the mischief making twins had somehow snuck spiders into Ron's eggs. The terrified six-year old ran screaming from the table and up to his bedroom. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny sniggered into their plates. Arthur Weasley seemed to be trying hard not to follow their example. Percy merely rolled his eyes into his eggs, which he had been pushing them around his plate with a fork.
After a few more minutes of this, Percy decided he'd use the time to ask his father. Percy pushed back his plate, stood, and walked around the table to where his father sat reading the paper.
"Father," said Percy, "Have you seen Scabbers anywhere? I've looked all over, and I can't find him."
Arthur folded his paper and sat it down on the table. "Well, where did you last see him, Percy?" he asked patiently over the shrill yells of his wife.
"Last night. Before I went to bed, he was asleep on my pillow. But when I woke up this morning, he wasn't there! It was like he disappeared."
Arthur patted Percy on the arm fondly and said, "Tell you what, Perce. After breakfast, you and I can go upstairs and see if we can't find Scabbers. Hmm?"
Percy smiled, and thanked his father before heading back upstairs to try to find his beloved rat.
Five years previously, Percy had been outside helping Bill and Charlie de-gnome the garden. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had met his downfall just two days before, and the three eldest Weasley children were more than thrilled to be outside without their mother checking up on them every two minutes.
As Percy walked further into the garden, he found a gnome terrorizing a poor, defenseless rat. The gnome had it by its bald tail, swinging it back and forth, and laughing madly. It hadn't even noticed Percy come right up behind it. Percy kicked the gnome, which caused it to drop the poor rat, and run into a nearby hole for sanctuary.
Percy knelt down and reached out a small hand to the trembling, slightly dizzy, rat. The rat cautiously inch towards the five-year old, sniffed his hand, and let Percy pet it. After a moment, Percy picked up the rat for a closer look. The rat was slightly fat, had beady, watery blue eyes (Strange, Percy thought), brown fur, and, looking closer to its front paw, Percy saw it had a toe missing.
"You're hurt," Percy muttered to the rat. He stood up with the rat in hand, and quickly made his way back to the house, forgetting all about the gnomes.
Percy walked in the kitchen and found his mother chasing around a small blur of red around the room. Fred (or maybe it was George, Percy could never tell) had stolen Molly's wand and had been running around the room turning things different colors. One of these things just happened to be Percy's newborn baby sister, Ginny. Molly finally caught up with Fred (or George), retrieved her wand, and turned Ginny- who was currently a bright shade of purple- back to her normal color.
Molly turned breathlessly to the offending twin. "George!" (Okay, it was George, Percy thought.) "What have I told you about taking Mummy's wand? Bad George!" She scolded.
George merely laughed and ran off to find his twin. Molly sank tiredly into a recliner with a sigh. Percy saw his only chance before the twins would undoubtedly cause something to break or explode.
"Mum, I found this rat outside, the gnomes were being mean to it, and it has a hurt foot. See? Can I keep it and make it better? Can I?" he asked in one breath.
Molly glanced at the rat with a raised eyebrow and looked at her son's hopeful face. Who could say no to that?, she thought to herself fondly. And besides, it's better than some other things he could want to keep.
The week before, Charlie had relentlessly begged Molly and Arthur to get him a dragon, and refused to eat when they said no. This only lasted a few hours until Molly made a batch of homemade cookies. And just two days before, Fred and George had tried to smuggle a vast variety of (potentially lethal) insects into their bedroom.
"Oh, I don't see why not Per-" But Molly was cut off by the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. She stood quickly. Percy had to jump back to avoid being knocked over. She ran quickly into the kitchen.
"Fred! George! No! Dinner plates are not Frisbees!"
Satisfied that his mother would allow the rat, Percy swiftly made his way to his bedroom. He put the rat on his perfectly made bed and knelt down next to it.
"You can sleep on my bed. There's loads of room!" Percy said to his new pet. The boy looked closer at the rat's missing toe; it seemed to have happened very recently- it was freshly scabbed. Percy thought for a moment.
"Hmm... I think I'll call you Scabbers. Is that okay?"
The rat squeaked in response.
Taking it as a 'yes', Percy grinned, and ran back down the stairs to the kitchen. Here, he retrieved some leftover toast from breakfast and a small bowl of water for Scabbers. When he returned, the rat was curled up on Percy's pillow, fast asleep.
From that day on, Percy took Scabbers everywhere. But now, he was missing.
Arthur had made good on his promise, and helped Percy search for his pet. Their search, however, turned up nothing; Scabbers had just disappeared.
Meanwhile, the rat called "Scabbers" scampered through the forest. He'd snuck out of Percy's bedroom while the boy had been asleep. He'd been planning this for months now, and had finally put it into effect. "Scabbers" paused for a moment to catch his breath. He was just as fat in his Animagus form as he was in his human one.
Peter Pettigrew, nicknamed Wormtail, had been lucky to enough to find a Wizarding family that day nearly five years ago. His plan had worked; Sirius was in Azkaban, he, Wormtail, was alive and free, and the Death Eaters had no idea.
His plan now was to try and find Harry Potter. The boy had royally screwed things up for Wormtail that Halloween. How a defenseless fifteen month old child could defeat the Dark Lord, Wormtail did not know. What he did know, however, was that the Death Eaters were none too happy with him. If any of them were to find out that Wormtail had lived that day... Well, he just didn't want to think about what they would do to him. But now it was time to make amends. When Wormtail brought Harry Potter to the Death Eaters, they would have to welcome him back with honors!
Wormtail grinned as only a rat could grin, and looked up to the sky.
Full moon.
He wondered briefly how Remus was fairing without Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs as company. Memories of the adventures the four of them had at Hogwarts came flooding back to his mind.
But that's the past, he thought furiously to himself, pushing back the memories. Once I give Harry to the Death Eaters, the past will no longer matter.
A howl in the distance broke Wormtail of his thoughts. Curious, the rat followed the noise to an incredibly familiar cottage at the center of the forest.
How the hell did I end up here? Wormtail thought bewildered.
Slowly, and cautiously, Wormtail made his way to Remus Lupin's cottage.
The werewolf called Moony paced around the cold, hard basement waiting for them to come. For five years now, he waited. It was obvious that Moony had yet to accept two of his friends were dead, and the other rotting away in Azkaban as good as dead.
So, every full moon, Moony waited.
The human half of him knew they would never again come, and he tried to make Moony understand this. Every time, though, Moony would lash out at himself, leaving his human counterpart bloody and bruised at moonset.
Tonight, Moony knew it was different. He'd picked up a familiar scent. However much he'd been told otherwise - that it was impossible - tonight was different. He howled for his friends to join him. Why were they making him wait?
Moony looked out the small, rectangular window and saw the sight he'd been waiting for all those years.
For a moment, wolf and rat simply stared at one another. Neither quite believing what was standing before them. Moony's eyes were wide with recognition; Wormtail's eyes were wide with fear. He'd been noticed!
As fast as his stumpy legs could carry him, Wormtail fled into the forest, cursing himself for his stupid, careless mistake.
Moony began to howl once more. He became furious at Wormtail for fleeing so quickly. He'd waited for so long, and his friend had left him once more. Why?
He began to scratch and bite himself, enjoying the taste of his own blood.
After a few more hours of self-mutilation, the werewolf collapsed to the floor.
The moon had finally waned, and the sun began to rise. As the rays of the sun hit him, Remus J. Lupin awoke. The night before had been worse than he could remember it being in years.
Bloody and bruised, Remus carefully rose from the ground, wincing from the pain of his many self-inflicted injuries.
Slowly, Remus staggered to the top of the basement stairs, to the kitchen, and finally to the bathroom. It took much longer than it should have. He began to gather the potions, bandages, and healing creams he would need to dress his wounds, and collapsed to the cool bathroom floor.
Wormtail used to do this for me in the mornings, he thought randomly.
Wormtail?
Remus struggled to remember the night before. He remembered Moony howling for Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. That happened every full moon. But there was something else. Something much stranger...
The window.
Wormtail was at the window!
No! Wormtail is dead, he thought furiously.
But the scent, Remus, there's no confusing the scent, Said another voice.
I was imagining it. There is no way Peter could have been here last night. Black killed him! He replied to himself.
Maybe Sirius didn't kill Wormtail, the voice continued. Maybe it was all a set-up...
"NO!" Remus yelled, his voice echoing off the bathroom walls.
When the voice said no more, Remus continued to dress his wounds. Once he'd finished applying various pain and healing creams, and swallowing a variety of potions, Remus pushed himself from the tile floor, stumbled across the hall to his bedroom, and collapsed on his bed.
Sleep followed in minutes.
While Remus slept, Wormtail sat in the forest wondering what the hell had possessed him to look into that bloody window.
He knows! He knows! the rat thought over and over again.
He'd have to do something. Surely Remus was smart enough to realize what he'd seen, and in no time he'd have Dumbledore and Merlin knows who else after Wormtail.
He was in trouble, he knew it. He'd have to go... fast!
But something was pulling at him. Wormtail had heard his friend's- No, former friend's, he corrected himself- howls of pain just hours before.
And before he had time to realize what he was doing, Wormtail was scurrying back to Remus' small cottage. The kitchen window was left open (For owl post, the rat thought.), so he ascended up the side of the cottage and into the window. He searched the kitchen for any sign of Remus. The coast seemed to be clear, so Wormtail hopped from the ledge to the floor.
He slowly crept through the cottage, searching for Remus, though he wasn't sure why; he'd stopped caring for the well being of his so-called friends years ago. Once he had the Dark Mark, they didn't matter anymore.
Or so he'd tried to convince himself.
Wormtail knew deep down, this if it weren't for Remus or Sirius or James... well, he would have been nothing. Not that he felt like anything within the group. Sirius would always tease him; he was constantly the butt of jokes. And on many occurrences, he was the victim of prank experiments. In short, Wormtail had always felt under-appreciated in the Marauders.
This is one of the reasons he'd joined the Dark Lord's cause. As a Death Eater, Wormtail was something other than James Potter's lackey. He was important; he gathered information concerning the Order the Phoenix and passed it to his master. The Potters had become an obsession to his master, and Wormtail, being so close to them, gave him an advantage the other Death Eaters didn't have.
The night he had become Lily and James' Secret Keeper was on of the greatest in his short life. Wormtail finally had something to please his master - something that would undoubtedly gain his admittance to the Inner Circle.
That night, Peter Pettigrew had done something not even Lucius or Bellatrix couldn't have achieved: He'd delivered the Potters to the Dark Lord on a silver platter with a pretty bow on top.
Wormtail wandered through the hallway of Remus' small home. He looked into the bathroom briefly, noticing bandage wrappers, potion bottles, and open jars of healing creams. Next he looked through the crack of Remus' bedroom door. Remus lay there with his legs dangling off the side of the old tattered bed.
Wormtail sighed. Must have been a rough one if he couldn't even get into bed properly, he mused.
Wormtail climbed the blankets onto the bed and carefully walked to Remus' unconscious form. His breathing was steady; he was asleep.
And Merlin, could Remus sleep. He'll probably be out until tomorrow morning.
Wormtail walked back to the edge of the bed and jumped off. He thought for a moment, and transformed back into his human self for the first time in five years. He shook his head at his own obvious stupidity.
Carefully and quietly, he moved Remus fully onto the bed, placed a warm blanket over his former friend, and whispered, "Sorry, Moony, I had no other choice."
With a sigh, Wormtail turned to leave the bedroom. Maybe Remus would have some decent food in the kitchen...
"Wormtail...?" a quiet, hoarse voice said.
Slowly, and with eyes as wide as saucers, Wormtail turned back towards Remus' bed. Remus' eyes were still closed, and he hadn't moved an inch.
Maybe he'll just think he was dreaming, Wormtail thought hopefully.
Without hesitation, he transformed, once again, into the rat and fled from Remus' cottage. He'd wasted too much time, and if he stuck around any longer, he'd risk being caught. He could only hope Remus would believe he was dreaming...
That afternoon, Remus had been dreaming. He dreamt he was at Godric's Hollow, at James and Lily's home.
The scene wasn't one that he'd recognized as a memory, though, and when he'd walked into the familiar living room, none of the people there acknowledged his presence.
James and Lily sat together on the couch, while Sirius sat across from him in the arm chair he normally frequented in the Potters' home. They seemed to be discussing something of great importance.
"James, you know I would die the three of you. You guys are the only family I have, apart from Evie and Galahad. Hell, James, you're the first family I have ever had." Sirius said quietly, not able to look the other two in the eyes.
James nodded, but said nothing. Sirius continued, "Look. Voldemort is going to know you've chosen me as your Secret Keeper. There is no way around that. And you know that I would never- for all the Galleons in the world- give him information willingly." He paused. "But, Prongs, he's got ways of getting it out of me. He could use Imperius... or he could just kill me." He said matter-of-factly.
"I don't want you to think I am saying this because I am afraid of myself. I am not afraid of dying. It's you I'm afraid for. You and Lily and Harry. You three are most important." Sirius sighed.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, James spoke. "What are you trying to say, Sirius? You don't want to be our Secret Keeper?"
Sirius winced at the painful expression James had in his eyes. "James, I think if you and Lily made someone less obvious your Secret Keeper, then you would have a better chance at coming out of all this shit.
"Of course, we'd still make it seem that it was me. That way the real Secret Keeper has a better chance. It's the perfect bluff."
Lily cleared her throat, glanced at James, who was looking at his feet, and back to Sirius. "Okay, Sirius, let's say we agreed to this. Who would you recommend as 'the perfect bluff'? Remus?"
Sirius shook his head. "No way. I've already told you my theory on Remus." Lily rolled her eyes; they'd discussed this millions of times, but she didn't say anything. "No. Peter. Peter should be Secret Keeper." Sirius waited for their reactions with a triumphant look upon his face.
James and Lily stared back at him with raised eyebrows. "Peter? Peter Pettigrew?" James asked, clearly confused.
Lily shook her head and muttered something that strangely sounded like "Sirius has lost his mind".
"Yes!" Sirius said enthusiastically. "Think about it! Who the hell would suspect you to trust Peter of all people with something this bloody big? Nobody, that's who! Not one, single, solitary person would think you would put Wormtail in a position like this." He smiled in satisfaction, and sat back in the armchair with his hands folded behind his head. "Its the perfect bluff."
Suddenly, the scene changed. Remus was still in the Potters' living room, but it appeared to be a different day. Little Harry was asleep in Lily's lap, and instead of Sirius in the armchair, it was Peter.
Peter was holding his wand, beads of sweat dripping down his face, and it seemed as if the three adults had just made a life altering move for all present.
"Well, Pete," said James. "You are our Secret Keeper."
Peter's face held the biggest grin Remus had ever seen him wear.
"Y-Yeah... I guess I am. I can't believe you guys trust me enough-", but Lily cut Peter's reply off.
"Peter, if we didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here." She said simply.
Peter nodded, deep in thought.
James stood from the couch, clapped his hands together, and said, "Well, guess you better be going, eh?" Peter stood next to his friend. "Now, listen. Padfoot's going to check up on you around the first. He said he might come by on Halloween, but he's not sure yet. Just keep yourself off the radar, okay, Pete?"
Peter nodded again. "I will, Prongs. Don't worry about anything. You guys are safe with me. I'll take care of you." He stuck his hand out for James to shake, but instead found himself being embraced by one of the best friends he'd ever had.
"Take care, Peter." James whispered.
Peter returned the hug, which ended shortly after. He then turned to Lily, who handed a sleeping Harry over to James. She had tears in her eyes, and also pulled Peter into a hug. Before releasing him, she whispered, "Thank you, Peter" and kissed him on the cheek.
Peter couldn't seem to find any words to say. So instead, he nodded, and left the Potters' home.
Remus awoke in a cold sweat late that night, 1:42 in the morning by the bedside clock. And all he could think of was how real the dream had seemed