A/N: I still don't own any of this (but I do own a new green iPod nano at long last!). Well actually, I had no idea what Peter's family were like, so I made that all up. And don't worry, I'm not going to be soft on him - I don't like Wormtail any more than you do. But he's not Wormatail yet, he's still just little crybaby Peter.
I'm not very good at the whole 'comforting family' thing, so this might not be very impressive. Hey, I tried. Tell me if it was good, tell me if it sucked. If it sucked, tell me what to do next time.
Reveiws still fill me with bubbly joy, though I no longer yell at the computer screen. If you wanted to be one of the ones to make me do that, sorry, too late. But you can make me feel happy. I even feel happy if the reveiw simply states that you like hokey pokey. I even feel happy if you tell me this story is terrible - as long as you have a reason. Which you provide. To those (2?) awesome people who have already reveiwed - you're...well, awesome.

Part Three – Peter

"And here's one for Sarah, there you go dear, nice big box…"

Grandma Pettigrew handed the presents out with a big smile, taking obvious pleasure in spoiling her five grandchildren. Peter looked at his sister and the enormous box she was busy unwrapping. Then he looked around at the presents everyone else had received. His grandparents had just got back form a holiday in Italy, and they'd come bearing gifts. Lots of them. Everyone – his parents, his two brothers, Edward and David, and his two sisters, Charlotte and Sarah – were sitting behind great big piles of presents.

Peter looked down at his own pile after examining all the others. His seemed to be a lot smaller than everyone else's.

It didn't take long for the presents to be mercilessly ripped out of their wrappings, and soon all the Pettigrews were sitting quietly, looking over their hoard, with the two grandparents smiling at the scene. Edward, who at 19 was the oldest of Peter's siblings, looked around the living room. The floor was strewn with wrapping paper, ribbons and cardboard boxes.

"Better clear all this away, eh?" he said. He pulled out his wand and made a great sweeping gesture. All the rubbish instantly vanished. Peter saw his grandpa beaming.

"I wanted to do that!" yelled Charlotte, the second oldest. She had recently turned 17 and took great pleasure in whipping out her wand whenever she felt the need to show off.

"Fine." Edward shrugged. Then, with a twirl of his wand, he conjured a long, blue ribbon. Charlotte grinned and Vanished it before it floated to the floor. Grandpa Pettigrew was practically bursting with pride.

This display of magical ability made Peter frown slightly.

And hour later, Peter was sitting with his grandma and Sarah in the kitchen, drinking pumpkin juice and feeling glum. He knew that he should be feeling very pleased, for only two days ago an owl had brought him his Hogwarts letter. The whole family had been very happy indeed. Up until the letter had arrived, everyone had thought that he might've been a Squib. His grandparents – his mother's mum and dad – especially, had thought that Peter must've missed out on magical ability, for he had certainly never shown any. His mother was a pure-blood, and although her parents were by no means elitists, they had feared that because Peter's dad was a Muggle-born, the chance of one of their grandchildren being a Squib was higher.

Even Peter himself had, for a while, thought that he must be a Squib. All four of his brothers and sisters had shown magical ability before they received their Hogwarts letter; he hadn't. When the tawny owl had shown up with the yellow envelope bearing his name below the Hogwarts crest, a giant wave of relief had crashed over him.

But now there was a different anxiety growing on his mind. All his siblings were very talented – Edward had received top marks in his NEWTS and was working to becoming a Ministry of Magic Unspeakable, Charlotte had been made Head Girl, Sarah was a wonderful Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and last year David had won a special Potions award. Yet he, Peter, had never shown any ounce of talent. When he went off to Hogwarts, everyone would know that he came from a talented family, and he'd be expected to live up to that standard. Peter felt that he'd never be able to do that – never in a million years. He didn't even think he'd make it into Gryffindor, the house that all his family had been Sorted into. He had certainly never seen himself as brave... That was just what he needed, to be placed in Hufflepuff with all the other duffers, as David called them, when all his family were proud Gryffindors.

Peter was snapped out of his thoughts by his grandma, who was looking at him in a concerned way.

"Are you okay, dear?" she said. "You looked worried."

"Yeah, Peter, what's up?" Sarah asked. Out of all his siblings, Peter liked Sarah the most. She was always nice to him.

"Oh…it's – it's nothing really." Peter stuttered. He didn't think that anyone else would understand his fears, not when they had all been so sure of themselves when they'd gone off for Hogwarts.

"C'mon, Petey, you can tell us." Sarah said. "Are you worried about going to Hogwarts?"

Peter sighed and nodded.

"Aw, don't worry Peter! You'll make new friends, learn loads of stuff…first year's a blast, there's no big exams to worry about or anything, they really easy you in slowly." Sarah said, smiling at Peter. He looked over at his grandma and she nodded in agreement. He sighed again. He knew they wouldn't understand!

His grandma saw that Sarah's words hadn't cheered him up.

"What exactly is worrying you about going to Hogwarts?" she asked him.

"You wouldn't understand." sighed Peter.

"We'll do our best," Sarah said, patting him on the shoulder.

Peter took a deep breath and explained his worries and fears. When he'd finished, neither Sarah nor his grandma laughed, as he thought they might have. He knew that David and Charlotte would've, and he was thankful that neither of them ever took enough notice of him to realise he was upset. Not that they'd bother trying to find out why if they did.

"Oh, Peter," his grandma said. "Nobody cares if you don't become the top of your class. We certainly don't care how well you do at Quidditch or any of those sorts of things. Just try your best and do as well as you can, and we'll be proud of you."

"But what if I try my best and I still fail?" asked Peter, his voice wobbling.

"Peter, I promise, if you really try your best, and have a good attitude, you won't fail." Sarah said.

"That's right; success is about hard work and perseverance more than brains or talent." his grandma said.

"Good," said Peter, tears forming in his eyes, "because I don't have brains or talent."

"That's not true," said his grandma sternly. "It's not true, and you know it."

Peter was starting to get very upset. "Compared to everyone else in this family, I'm totally useless!" he sniffed. Sarah patted him on the shoulder again.

"Peter, what your family has done and what you do are two totally separate things," his grandma said. "We don't measure success against others; we measure it against our own abilities."

"Yeah, Grandma's right," Sarah said, wrapping her arms around her crying little brother. "We don't compare you to anyone else, so you shouldn't keep doing it."

Peter nodded and seemed to brighten, but then he remembered something else.

"But what about being in Gryffindor?" he asked, still sniffling.

"Nobody cares what house you go in, Peter." Sarah said.

"That's right. As long as you're happy, we're happy." his grandma added.

Peter finally composed himself and wiped his wet eyes on the back of his hand.

"Are you exited about going to Hogwarts now?" Sarah asked. Peter realised that now all his worries and fears had been banished, the excitement they had been squashing was rising to the surface.

"Yeah," he said, "yeah, I guess I am." He smiled at his grandma and gave Sarah a hug before jumping up from the table.

"What are you doing?" his grandma asked.

Peter grinned again. 'I'm going to look through my schoolbooks," he said. He darted out of the kitchen.

"You reckon he'll be okay?" Sarah asked her grandma.

'Oh, once he gets there and finds some nice friends, he'll be fine. He'll love it. Hogwarts is a wonderful place."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. I just worry about him sometimes." Sarah said. "Must just be because he's the baby of the family."

"Trust me, darling. He'll find something he's good at, and somewhere to fit in." her grandma said, patting Sarah's hand.

'I hope so."