Peter Pettigrew registered that the hand that his master had given him was choking him to death. He registered his wand being yanked from his hand, and someone—Potter, it was Harry Potter—trying to yank the hand away from his throat.

Stop! he wanted to say. Harry…I deserve this.

But no words would form. A moment passed, and he was gone. The dungeons of Malfoy Manner disappeared, and he sprung up to a standing position in what appeared to be…his dormitory at Hogwarts? Yes, that was definitely where he was. He recognized the beds. Remus' neat and tidy, James' with parchment everywhere on it, Sirius' totally unmade, and his own, with—

With James Potter and Sirius Black sitting upon it. He tried to shift backwards and, already half-lying on the floor as it was, slipped and did a strange sort of backwards summersault. Both men looked livid, Sirius even more so. They were glaring wholeheartedly down at him, as though he were vermin. The image of Sirius and Remus Lupin in the Shrieking Shack, just a few years ago, popped into his head, and he felt himself pale as he attempted to free himself of the tangle of robes.

A moment passed in which Peter found he could not, in fact, free himself. James stood and walked over. To Peter's surprise, he grabbed the former man by the shoulders and assisted him in standing.

Sirius laughed tersely from where he was still sitting. "Oh James, your boy really is just like you…he would probably help Peter here too."

James smiled, ever so slightly. "Well, he certainly seems so." Then he turned back to Peter. "Of course, I won't really know for sure. You made that happen."

Peter felt his blood run cold. This was what he was waiting for, what he knew would be coming.

"So why did you do it? And don't give me that bloody answer you gave Sirius."

Peter shook his head, sinking to his knees. "I—I don't know. Pro—James," he amended at a look from Sirius, "James I don't know. He was winning…he was going to win. And I didn't want to die. I really didn't. We w-were so young.

Sirius stood and appeared next to James, both of them staring down to him. "Well you had no issue in allowing Voldemort" —Peter flinched— "to kill James! To kill Lily, and their son! They trusted you. I trusted you."

"I know I messed up!" Peter cried. "I know that it's all my fault. I know that that's why you're both dead, and I know that it's my fault that he's powerful again. I know I know I know. And I'm sorry. I really didn't want it to turn out this way, not at all. But it did, and I can't change the past…I wish I could but I can't, so please just stop!"

James looked steadily at him for a couple of minutes. "C'mon Peter," he said quietly, "you've had a hard enough time."

Hate me, it's fine…but I always see James able to forgive Pettigrew…