Peter woke with a start as Ron's large hand snatched him up off the warm bed in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory and shoved him into the breast pocket of his robe. Bloody kid Peter thought as the darkness of Ron's pocket consumed him. He lay down inside and felt the soft thud of Ron's heart.
Peter felt each clumsy step Ron made as he walked downstairs, and it made him a little ill. He waited patiently, chewing on a crumb of what he guessed to be the remains of Ron's cauldron cake from dessert last night. Ron greeted the insufferable- know- it- all, Hermione, in the common room. Peter poked his head out of Ron's pocket and squealed when he saw Hermione's evil cat, Crookshanks, sitting in her lap. He dove back into the safety of Ron's pocket.
"It's all right Scabbers," Ron said, patting his pocket a little too hard, which knocked the breath out of Peter. Peter grimaced at his pseudonym, but brushed it off easily. Soon I can return, and Master will call me by my rightful name he thought joyously."That bloody cat of yours has been scaring poor Scabbers out of his mind Hermione!"
"Honestly Ron!" Hermione huffed, "I don't know what you want me to do. Cat and mouse have been enemies since the dawn of time. I can't stop him. It's Crookshanks' instinct to kill Scabbers."
"A cat? You call him a cat? He's a beast, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione gave another dramatic huff and Scabbers heard her storm out of the portrait hole.
Light flooded into the dark pocket and Peter saw Ron's long fingers as he reached in to grab him. Peter gripped Ron's hand tightly as he was carried across the common room. He spotted a young couple embracing by the stairs, a first year studying in a large book, and a fifth year failing to succeed her incantation of a non-verbal spell. Ron sat down in his usual armchair by the fire, set Peter on his lap, and started to work on an essay for potions. Peter waited until Ron got that puzzled look on his face, the one that said he was trying really hard to remember something, and then he scuttled across Ron's thigh and jumped to the floor.
He landed onto the thick red carpet and darted to the portrait hole. Fortunately, it was open, so he jumped through easily. Peter headed east down a long corridor at a swift run. His claws protested at the ice-cold marble floors, but Peter continued, for he didn't have much time. Master will be so proud he thought as he flew down the empty stairwells. Peter was on the third floor when the lunch bell chimed. Rats, he grumbled. Quickly, he darted behind an old tapestry. The floor trembled as the young witches and wizards passed. He peeked out from behind the tapestry and saw those morons Fred and George Weasley send a tickling charm at young master Malfoy. Peter waited for Malfoy to return a curse, but was disappointed as Malfoy turned a deep shade of red and stormed off. Peter then realized that Malfoy's usual cronies had not been at his side. Young master Malfoy does not have the same bravery as his father, Peter observed, the Dark Lord will be most interested in this. After some time, the hallways were safe again. Peter maneuvered sneakily through third and second floors and just as he made it to the first floor Remus Lupin came striding around the corner, the Marauders Map in his hands. Peter leapt behind a suit of armor just as Lupin looked his way. Lupin looked from the map to the suit of armor with a puzzled expression. My old friend Peter thought with a hint of warmness that attempted to penetrate his cold heart. Lupin tapped the map angrily with his wand and mumbled something like "So Harry was right… but where is Wormtail?" Lupin lingered a little longer. "Mischief managed," he whispered and the map went blank. Shoulders slumped, Lupin started down the hall, looking over his shoulder every now and then. When the coast was clear, Peter ran as fast as he could to the Entrance Hall, out the front doors, and onto the grounds.
It was a dark and dreary day. The clouds hung ominously low in the sky, threatening to rain at any moment. A cold wind whipped at Peter as he dashed across the damp grass. He saw that big oaf Hagrid's hut and raced towards it. He flew down the grassy slope with ease, and arrived at the hut. It was small wooden thing, with tiny windows that glowed with warm yellow light. Smoke poured from the chimney, promising a warm fire inside. Peter ran around to the back door where there was a hole just big enough for him to squeeze into. He dove head first into the hole and just about made it through- if only his butt wasn't stuck. Lord! Peter thought, I must've put on a few extra pounds. Damn Ron and his Pumpkin Pasties! Peter sucked in a huge breath and tried to wiggle himself free. Still he was stuck. After a few more minutes of struggling, Peter felt the ground shake on the outside of the door and heard footsteps coming his way. No! That oaf Hagrid must be coming!
"Great man Dumbledore," Peter heard Hagrid say. The footsteps were nearing, and Peter tried to get out with a sense of panic. If Hagrid caught him, he'd miss his chance to escape. If he couldn't get through the door, maybe he could get out the door! He propped his feet against the hard wooden door and pushed. With a POP! Peter rocketed out of the door and landed into a brick wall.
"What in Merlin's beard!" Hagrid roared. Peter screeched as he stood up and realized that the brick wall was Hagrid's muddy boots. Before he could run, Peter was snatched up by Hagrid's trash can sized hands. Hagrid held Peter by the tail and looked at him quizzically. "Scabbers? Is tha' you?" he asked. Blood rushed to Peter's head and he got dizzy by the way Hagrid swung him. "Ron will be wantin' to get yeh back I reckon," he said and entered into his hut. "I'll jus' keep yeh here for the time bein'," said Hagrid. Hagrid carried Peter over to a small empty cage placed him inside. He locked the lock and lumbered over to his makeshift kitchen where he pulled out a large teacup from the cupboard.
Peter had never really seen the inside of Hagrid's hut because he was usually inside Ron's robes or roaming the school and spying on Snape and Dumbledore. He lay down inside the cage and looked around with amusement. This is a house? From what he could see, there was only one room inside. In the corner stood a gigantic bed with a patchwork quilt draped neatly on top. Red and orange flames danced in fireplace. A rusty old teapot was heating over the fire sending sweet smells throughout the cabin. Pheasants and hams hung from the ceiling. A pink umbrella lay on the table, along with three books titled Dealing with Greif, Losing a Child, and Baking for the Brainless. The teapot whistled and started smoking from the spout. Hagrid took the kettle and poured himself a bucket sized cup of tea. He brought Peter's cage over to the table and sat down.
"Yeh know what's happening today Scabbers?" Hagrid said. Peter looked up and saw thick tears streaming down Hagrid's face. "They're comin down to execu' Buckbeak. Can yeh believe it? Beaky is a good boy. He always cleans his feathers!" he wailed. Peter listened to him blubber on and on about that stupid bird. "Dumbledore's comin down to be with me. Great man, Dumbledore!" Peter thought about ramming his head on the side of the cage and passing out, just so he wouldn't have to listen to any more of the stupid giants problems. There were more important issues at hand. Fortunately there was a knock on the door. Hagrid pushed back from the table and wiped away his tears. There was another knock. "I'm comin!" he called impatiently. He pulled open the door and in walked Harry, Ron, and the Mudblood-know-it-all Hermione. Peter gazed at Harry. His jet-black hair was tousled and stood up in every which way, his cheeks were rosy from the cold, and his soft green eyes looked up at Hagrid with sympathy. Hagrid invited them to sit down for a cup of tea. Ron wandered over to the table and gasped.
"Scabbers!"
"You should keep a better eye on yer pets Ron," Hagrid said looking over his shoulder as he poured three steaming cups of tea. Peter jumped willingly into Ron's hands when he opened up the cage. Hagrid set down the tea at the table and they all talked awhile. Ron and Hermione bickered as usual, but Peter didn't focus on that. He was planning his next escape.
Hagrid forced them all to leave on account of he didn't want them to see the execution of Buckbeak. Peter couldn't see anything from Ron's pocket, but he could guess when they had reached the top of the steep slope. He squirmed around in Ron's pocket, making squealing noises. "Calm down Scabbers!" Ron said and he grabbed Peter from his pocket. When Peter was all the way out, he bit down hard on the flesh of Ron's index finger. "OUCH!" Ron yelped and dropped Peter. He fell to the ground, and as soon as he hit the grassy surface, he began to sprint in the direction of the Whomping Willow. "SCABBERS!" Ron called, and Peter sped up as he heard the trio in pursuit of him. Peter cursed at his slow pace; I knew I shouldn't have had that extra chicken wing! He began to slow just as he saw the Whomping Willow and he heard the other's footsteps pounding against the grass. BLAST! he thought as Ron flew forward and snatched him off the ground. With the sudden stop, Ron went tumbling down a little ways. Harry and Hermione arrived in a matter of seconds. Peter tried to squirm out of Ron's tight grasp, but something made him stop. Just behind Harry and Hermione, crouching in the grass, bearing sharp white teeth, and emitting an intensifying growl, was a big black dog. Sirius Peter thought in terror as he locked eyes with the dog.