Peter rushed through the woods, his breath short and coming in sharp, painful gasps like knives puncturing his lungs. His hair was blown back against his head from the wind and his pace.

I must get there… he thought, frantic. I must warn them of what I've done!

Peter leapt over a log in his path, only to have his foot caught in a root just poking up from the ground, and he fell onto his face. He leaned up, spitting out leaves and dirt from his mouth, and trying to wipe his face with his dirtied hand. It was no use, he would never make it on time. Not running. Suddenly he could hear the voice of Sirius, tantalizing and vicious, shout through his mind.

Are you a wizard or aren't you? You pig-headed git!

Peter jumped up. He closed his eyes and focused on the thought of his friends once secure home. He had never been very accomplished when it came to Apparating, but if anytime came to make it priority, that time was now. Within a few seconds, with a brief period of a breathless whirlwind enclosing him, Peter found himself in an alleyway. He gave a gasp of relief, knowing he had made it in once piece to Godric's Hollow.

Peter ran out of the alleyway, looking in both directions when he exited it to see which way was correct to find his destination, and decided going left was it. He ran, hysterical, almost coming right before the gate until he noticed there was something obscure about the scene before him.

He stopped dead in his tracks, gazing at what lay before him. The home of his friends, of two of his dear friends he'd known from school, was in pieces. Two friends he had trusted, and whom had foolishly trusted him were now, he could tell from the appearance of their home, dead. James and Lily Potter were dead. And by his doing. It was he who told his Master where they were hiding, safely, away from his grasp. Peter was about to open the gate to investigate, perhaps they were still alive somehow, when he heard footsteps approaching from his right. Peter knew he could be caught here by any of the others, or they would surely murder him from sheer fury, but he could not leave yet.

Peter's eyes darted about his surroundings rapidly, searching for a haven to keep him away from incisive eyes but still in view of the demolished home. He saw a dark corner where a house met with a brick wall, just back the direction he had ran here from. Peter darted into it, crouched on his haunches and waited. The footsteps, it appeared, were much father off than he had first imagined, and once they had actually gotten close enough to see the source, he understood why. The footsteps were from a man at least ten times taller than himself and probably five times as wide. It was an enormous, towering bulk of a man whom, after a good minute thinking, Peter recalled. The enormous tangle of hair, covered everything on his head but a bit of rough skin and beady, twinkling eyes. But right now these eyes were twinkling not of the normal cheer from this ginormous being, but from the tears that were steadily creeping down his cheeks. It was a man known to Peter as Rubeus Hagrid.

Hagrid stopped before the gate and stopped a moment, gazing woefully at the scene laid out before him. His shoulders were shaking in silent sobs that Peter had no doubt would have been enormously thunderous had it not been for the fact that all of Godric's Hollow was peacefully sleeping, and did not need to be disturbed. Finally, the beastly figure pushed open the gate around the perimeter and walked up the path toward the rubble. Peter instinctively wondered why he would be going in there. Surely this man, who never really had any contact with him nor his friends, would need to go into their ruined home and stir things up. Peter was about to get up and stop him when he heard a rumbling overhead. His head jerked up to the sky, where he saw an enormous vehicle – a motorcycle from what Peter remembered Sirius raving on about on occasion – circling down toward the ground. It landed in the yard of the Potter home, and a familiar figure stepped off it.

Peter ducked even lower and pressed himself into the corner as best he could. He did not want to be seen by Sirius Black, who would surely kill him upon sight of him. Hagrid had also turned at the rumbling sound, and now the two men were talking amongst each other. They nodded and climbed up over the rubble of the home, it seemed they were searching for something. Finally, Sirius seemed to have located it and waved Hagrid over. He had lifted something out of the rubble, and after a moment an icy chill stole Peter's breath away. Sirius was holding a hand up from the rubble, attached to an arm, that seemed (Peter was grateful for this) to still be attached to something further beneath the debris. Hagrid came over and, with an uncontrollable sob that Peter could hear steal across the void of night, he stooped to remove the rubble, and picked up the body of James Potter. A whimper rose in Peter's throat, and tears stung at the corner of his eyes. Hagrid carried James' body out past the debris of the destroyed home and laid him down onto the green grass surrounding it, folding his hands over his stomach.

As he did this, Sirius had gone further into the wreckage to locate something more, and found it. He gently, as if caressing a love of his own, removed the small bits of stone and brick that covered Lily Potter's body and picked her up into his arms, where she hung limp. Hagrid, now hiccupping from holding back his wails, walked over and took her from Sirius to lay her at her rightful place, beside James' body. Sirius just stood for a moment, seeming dazed at the sight of his lifeless friends. But of course he would be… Peter thought.

A noise, however, inaudible to Peter's ears seemed to catch Sirius' attention. He whirled and walked over to a form Peter had to peer at to make out. A crib. Sirius reached inside it and pulled out the small form of a baby. Peter's eyes lit up, he had forgotten about their son! And…was that…? Yes! The baby was moving! Their baby was alive!

Joy, fear, relief and dread all flooded through Peter at once. Not the whole Potter family was lost, but someday he might have to feel the wrath of the now orphaned son, but he had not doomed the entire family to death…but now he had left this poor child parentless. Tears streamed down Peter's face, though whether from happiness or anger or fear he did not know. Unable to control it, it seemed at the sight of the boy alive, Hagrid gave a defiant shout and ran over. They were talking now, and Peter wanted to hear what they were saying. In a moment, without really thinking, Peter transformed into his rat animagus and scuttled across the street, through the gate, and stole through the shadows and rubble until he was within earshot.

"…great man, Dumbledore. Sent me 'ere as soon as he found that baby 'Arry was still alive. Said I gotta take him ter this muggle home in Little Winging, the only place 'ere he'll be safe, so Dumbledore says." Hagrid was sniffling. Peter could see Sirius shaking his head, Holding the baby close to him.

"No, no…that can't be right. I'm his guardian, now. I'm his godfather, I should take him. I'll take care of him."

"Dumbledore said that'd be too dangerous," Hagrid almost seemed to plead, "said I gotta take him to the muggle home. If You-Know-Who's after 'im, we want him ter be in a safe place where he'll be taken good care of."

Sirius hesitated a good long moment before letting out a sigh of defeat and handing the baby into Hagrid's waiting arms.

"Dumbledore would know best, wouldn't he…"

"Great man, Dumbledore…"

Sirius nodded up to Hagrid.

"Yes…great man…"

Hagrid turned to leave, but Sirius halted him.

"Wait! You'd better take my bike, it'll get you there quicker. Muggle ears don't hear it's engine."

With a sob of gratitude, Hagrid turned back and pulled Sirius into a harsh hug, picking him right off the ground. Sirius patted Hagrid's arm and then was let down.

Without another word between any of them, Hagrid turned and walked over to the bike, taking one last longing look at the bodies he had laid out in the moonlight. He kick started the engine and it roared to life, lifting the enormous man into the air and then off into the night. Sirius merely stared after him for the longest time, until Peter tried shifting to head back to his dark corner and a bit of the rubble he was crouched in shifted.

Sirius' head jerked in the direction of the sound, but Peter was already scurrying off into the darkness, but he was sure Sirius had seen him.

Once under the cover of the alleyway he had arrived in, Peter disapparated back into the woods, on the exact spot he had tripped. He began trudging back, weighed down in his guilt. Mixed emotions were swirling through his head when Peter noticed the stench in the air. It was the smell of burning wood.

A single flood of pure horror ran through his veins, and Peter once again began running. He darted off in the woods until he came to its break, where his breath was once again stolen away from him. But this time he could not seem to gain it back.

The heat caused beads of sweat to form on his brow as he stepped closer, the bright flare of light made him squint. His home, the home he had settled in, where he was beginning a family, a life, was being destroyed before his eyes. The flames licked along the wood, seeming to tease him, it devoured everything.

Adela!His mind shrieked.

Peter began sprinting toward the burning building when he saw it. The light cast an ominous shadow over a black thing lying in the lawn. At first, Peter thought it was a plank of wood, fallen from the house, but the saw it was a figure. Peter could not breathe, he could barely move. He walked, slowly, over to the body, feeling as if this wasn't real.

This couldn't be happening…it just couldn't be happening…could it? She was safe! She was supposed to be safe!

Peter finally stood beside the figure. There was his wife. She was lying of her stomach, her face was white, her lips pale, and her eyes were open, gazing. Peter felt a tiny flicker of, not happiness, but pride in seeing that there was no fear in those eyes. Only, it seemed, concern shone through. Peter fell to his knees beside his love. She was dead.

Sobs trembled his body and he cried out, shouted, screamed at the top of his lungs."Adela!"

Then, all he could manage to scream were wails of dismay. She was gone.