Peter spent a month living amongst the rats in the sewers beneath London, too frightened to change back into his human form even for a moment. He heard whisperings from wizards during his brief trips aboveground—he knew that Sirius had been captured and sent to Azkaban, and he know that the Dark Lord had been deemed officially dead—but he also knew that there were plenty of Death Eaters who'd evaded capture in the days following their master's defeat, Death Eaters who would certainly blame Peter for what had happened and come after him…. There couldn't be any question that Sirius had killed him.

But Peter also knew that he wasn't cut out for life on the streets; his mind was still too human to be satisfied with the scraps and garbage he managed to scavenge, and the temperatures were dropping lower and lower with each passing day. He needed to find a family to take him in—a wizarding family, but one without too close of ties to the Order or the Death Eaters. So it was in early December that Peter began the long trip west to Devon, hitching rides on a couple of cargo trains along the way, and into the village of Ottery St Catchpole, where he knew the family of Arthur Weasley was living. The Weasleys had stayed out of the war as much as they could, choosing to safely raise their young family in the countryside instead, but they were known Order sympathizers, with Molly Weasley's two younger brothers having both been members themselves. Peter would be able to get all the information he needed about the outside world while living safely under their roof—it was perfect.

He limped his way through the fields towards the Weasleys' makeshift family home early one afternoon, finding a wild-haired young boy attempting to salvage enough of the previous day's snow to assemble a snowman in front of the house. Peter scurried up to him, raising himself onto his hind legs in front of the snowman, and let out a high-pitched squeak.

The boy immediately squatted down to examine him, his mouth stretching into a grin. "You're one of the rats that's been eating all my mum's tomatoes, aren't you?" he said. "Naughty thing."

Before Peter could move, the boy had grabbed him by the tail and lifted him off the ground, leaving Peter dangling upside-down a few inches from his face. Peter squirmed and squeaked with alarm, and the boy's grin grew wider….

"Charlie!" Another young boy Peter hadn't seen before was stomping his way over to them, his arms crossed angrily over his chest. "What are you doing? You're hurting him!"

"It's one of the garden rats, Percy," the boy holding Peter said. "Mum hates these things."

"No, he's not—he's nowhere near the garden!" Percy tore Peter's tail from his brother's grasp and let him fall into his open hand. Charlie stepped back, laughing, and Percy held Peter close to inspect him, furrowing his brow. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about my brother. What's wrong with your paw?" He poked at Peter's injured paw with a little finger. "You lost a toe, didn't you? Did Charlie do that?"

"'Course I didn't," Charlie said, circling behind his brother to squint at Peter. "It's all scabbed over and everything, see—he lost it a while ago."

"He's got some scars on his chest, too," Percy murmured. "He was attacked, poor thing." He rose to his feet, cradling Peter in his palms. "I think I'll call you Scabbers," he said. "You can stay with me now; I'll keep you safe."

"Boys!" A frazzled-looking woman threw open the door to the Weasleys' house and stepped outside, a baby wailing in her arms. "Get inside—I need your help with supper!"

"Coming, Mum," Percy said immediately, hurrying back to his mother while his brother loitered by his snowman. He held Peter up to her when he reached her—the baby's screams were ringing in his ears by this point. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea; Peter had forgotten just how many children the Weasleys had. "Look what I found in the yard, Mum! He's been hurt, and Charlie was swinging him around and he was scared…. Can I keep him? I promise he won't eat your tomatoes. Please?"

Mrs Weasley frowned down at Peter. "He looks harmless enough," she said after a moment. "Oh, all right, Percy—but you've got to mind him, understand? I don't want him crawling around my kitchen."

"He won't!" Percy assured her. He smiled at Peter, hopping up and down excitedly on the balls of his feet and rattling Peter's bones. "This is great, Scabbers! You can live with me in my room, and one day I'll take you to Hogwarts…."

I've already been, Peter thought ruefully. His years at Hogwarts had been the best in his life; he couldn't imagine going back now, as a rat instead of a boy.

But he knew he would if it meant he'd stay alive and out of danger; he'd do anything for that, as he'd proven now time and time again. So Peter didn't resist as Percy carried him inside and up to his room, ready to begin his brand-new life with the Weasleys.