He silently curses himself for his betrayal.
Gryffindors are brave. Gryffindors are chivalrous. Gryffindors are loyal. A traitor cannot be a Gryffindor. Especially not a traitor who betrayed his dearest friends.
But he is.
The Stone
He sits quietly as the Sorting Hat sings.
"You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave of heart,
Their daring, nerve, & chilvary
Set Gryffindors apart - "
But he is the mistake of the Sorting Hat. Wrongly placed in such disgrace. He is the epitome of shame. Yet neither wizard nor Muggle acknowledge him as such. Instead, Padfoot is persecuted as disgraceful traitor.
He cannot help but blame the Sorting Hat for its choice.
If he had been a Hufflepuff like he had deserved at the time, he wouldn't have befriended Prongs or Padfoot or Moony. Then there would have been no one to betray to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named & no standards to rise to. But to Gryffindor he went. And as so, to a grave went Prongs, a pub went Moony, & to Azkaban went Padfoot.
The wrong man - if Peter can be called that - sits behind bars.
The Chamber
Between the oblivion of life & death is suffering.
What does he know of suffering? All he has achieved is a wake of agony bestowed upon the true of heart. His own housemates rot 6 feet underneath his filthy, Hell bound feet while their son screams in his damnation of life.
Peter Pettigrew swears in his own empty life as a bloody rat.
He knows his fate should be revelled in. Not even a slap on the wrist for the lives he stole. A common, beloved rat. Well fed, well treated, well protected by this boy who deserves his place in the house Peter wrought shame upon. Ron is his name. And the boy Peter orphaned is his best mate.
He doesn't deserve Harry Potter's kind gaze.
The Prisoner
In a blaze of justice he is finally recognized not as victim but offender.
The kind eyes turn quickly to burning hatred at the graves set by his treachery. He knows he has long since earned each glare. Still, he pleads with Ron. He pleads for his life because he is scared to face those he has betrayed. He knows he deserves neither the gift of life nor the blessing of death. He should continue to suffer at the hands of harbored guilt that consumes him.
The notion of begging for life is cowardice.
A Gryffindor, he reminds himself as he flees the scene of horror, is brave. No brave man, woman, or child would cower without even attempting to pick themselves up. The Longbottom boy, he continues his reminder, is braver than me. The Longbottom boy who knows suffering can stand up for himself. The Longbottom boy is far better suited to Gryffindor than you, Wormtail.
He cringes into the night at the nickname.
Alas, where he's going, wherever that is, is no place for foolish childhood nicknames. No place for a Gryffindor either, he reminds himself. Those brave of heart & daring in mind would never be treacherous enough to set foot in the cold, heartless arms of the Dark Lord.
But then again, he never really was a Gryffindor, was he?
The Goblet
The blood that flows from the stump is further proof of the coward he is.
Spilling from the place where a hand once dwelled is crimson cowardice. His fear of a man who is barely a man has, truthfully, consumed all logic that once resonated within him.
What can a Dark Lord achieve with no followers?
If he had not retreated to the lap of his betrayal, it would not continue to grow. Harry Potter would not be so cruelly endangered at 14 if Peter had just sat there like the Gryffindor the Sorting Hat believed him to be. If Peter had ever been the Gryffindor the Sorting Hat believed him to be, Harry Potter would never have been so cruelly endangered. His life, his parents' lives could've have been kept safe if Peter had been the Gryffindor the Sorting Hat had believed him to be.
It was certainly not the first time he had failed the Hat's decision.
The Order
All he has to offer is broken labor.
Serving people he publicly fears has become custom. Fear is yet another thing to add to the list of why he will never be a Gryffindor. While there is nothing wrong with his possession of fear itself, allowing it to keep you from standing up for something is cowardice like none other. Despite the glaring consequences - death crosses his mind - a Gryffindor would stand up. A Gryffindor would be brave.
Bravery in itself is stupid, a little voice in the back of his head whispers.
But are all people not stupid? Yes, they certainly are, he thinks to himself. Hats too, he adds as an afterthought. Because the Sorting Hat was stupid in putting the likes of him in Gryffindor.
No Gryffindor would whimper at the call of his master.
The Prince
It is painful to remind himself of the graves that earned him this place.
But suffering is a part of betrayal. For those betrayed & he who betrayed them. The graves were their suffering. This miserable existence is his. Catering to callous men with no set of morals is something he has brought upon himself. For no action comes without consequence. Like that of putting him in Gryffindor.
And all of the world is about to suffer for it.
The Hallows
His debt to the Boy Who Lived is heavy in the air as the crushing realization of the corpses he has to offer breaks his chains.
The moment must only last seconds, he has the Boy Who Lived at his mercy. He can kill him. He has the chance. But why should he? Has he not already lead the boy down the road of suffering? Death is not waiting at the end. Death is not yet ready to claim Harry Potter. Peter Pettigrew cannot kill this boy. This boy who he has tortured through his betrayal does not deserve to be slain.
Wormtail can no longer put the Hat to shame.
The hesitation in itself is a rebellion. In itself, it is treason to the man who has bestowed him with the weight of silver at his side. But Wormtail has already shown his final allegiance. Yes, he is scared. But courage is standing up to your fear. He will not bring himself to kill Harry Potter - he cannot. Because the Hat was not wrong, not stupid, not at all.
And then silver crushes his life.
The suffering is leaving. As is he, the oblivion of life & death no longer clouding him. The damnation of suffering for the treason from all those years ago dies with him. This is a new form of treason. This hesitation, this silent, simple hesitation speaks volumes to Voldemort. And those volumes scream, "betrayal!" They scream, "Gryffindor!"
In his last, mangled breaths, he silently relishes in his betrayal.
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- Queen Alison the Obstinate