Life's Tide

BlueWater5: Peter Pettigrew is usually presented as a coward and a weak person. However, he was sorted into Gryffindor. I doubt he was the only non-Slytherin Death Eater. How did he let Voldemort know he was willing to betray the Potters - how did he connect with the Death Eaters to the point where he met Voldemort? What were his thoughts as he was deciding to betray the Potters? Had he been a Death Eater before that or did he decide to become one only after he became the Potter secret-keeper? How did he justify his actions as a brave Gryffindor?

-o-O-o-

Peter had never really imagined himself working for the Ministry Press while he was at Hogwarts. Then again he'd never given much thought at all to life after school. He'd always been a person who spent his life living it day by day. Sure, he had the same far-off thoughts all lads had – like he wouldn't mind visiting a distant, foreign land like Australia or America, or that a wife and a couple of kids might be nice one day. Otherwise, he'd been rather content to let the current of life take him where it may.

Which was exactly how he'd ended up in the Ministry Press working alongside Barty Crouch Jr. on pamphlets about the importance of using a Bubble-Head charm when you go to St. Mungo's with anything you think could be contagious. He sighed loudly when he saw Crouch once again misspell "diseases" on one of the several different draft pamphlets they were putting together for their boss to choose from for mass publication.

"Get out of the way," he snapped, nudging his coworker out of his seat and taking over on the typewriter. "You'd think after seven years at Hogwarts you'd know how to spell something as common as 'disease'!"

'Or that this place would be a bit more picky about who it hires,' he thinks in disgruntlement to himself.

"You'd think," agreed Crouch with that mocking tone he always used with Peter. As he often did when his coworker got snotty with him, Peter imagined himself someplace else. A summer house in Spain (as if he was ever going to be able to afford one of those) or on a date somewhere fancy with their boss's fit secretary (like she'd ever look at him that way).

Irritated, he grumbled, "I guess it's true Hufflepuff is just a house of twits."

"Yeah? Well, this twit has his whole future all in hand. Can you say the same?" Crouch demanded, circling around to the front of the desk like a stalking nundu to slap his hands down on either side of the typewriter.

Peter shifted uneasily in his seat. "O-Of course you do," he said, voice quavering every so slightly, not looking at Crouch. "Your father is head of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm sure he's got a lot of favors to use."

The younger man's hands balled into fists so fiercely all blood ran out leaving his knuckles so white the freckles on them stood out like a splattering of blood in the office's light. "My father has had nothing to do with who I've become! I made myself!"

Slowly, cautiously, Peter raised his gaze to meet Crouch's. "And how did you do that?" he asked, hoping it would take away the mad edge he saw in the other's eyes.

Crouch smirked. "Curious now, are you?" he taunted. "If you must know, Pettigrew, unlike you, I made friends with the right kind of mates."

Peter frowned. "You're talking about Regulus Black, aren't you?"

"Evan Rosier and Imogen MacDougal too."

Peter nodded. "Bully for you."

Giving him a sly look, Crouch offered, "You know, Pettigrew, I wouldn't be against helping you get your life in hand too."

He eyed his coworker warily. Peter knew whatever Crouch was offering would cost him more than it paid out, yet… He wanted more than what he had now. Peter wanted a job that was better than this – maybe even one with coworkers he'd like. A house to holiday at wouldn't be remiss, whether it be in Hong Kong or America or bloody Romania for all he cared. As long as it'd get him far away from here and away from Crouch and his shitty attitude. He harbored no illusions about what Crouch and his mates were a part of, but perhaps if he was careful enough, he could get something brilliant out of it without getting himself killed.

For all of Crouch's mental failings, he did know how to attach himself to people who were going places. If his coworker's clever mates thought there was something worthwhile about being a part of such a social group maybe Peter should follow suit. What was life without a little risk? That was one of the most Gryffindorish rules to live by as far as Peter was concerned. There were lots of risks in life and, sometimes, you had to be brave enough to take one – be damned the consequences in the end.

Slowly, he started to nod, and pushed for an open, friendly smile that he never favored the bastard that was Barty Crouch Jr. with before. "If you really don't mind, I'd like to take you up on that offer."

"Aces!" Crouch exclaimed, pushing away from the desk. "Our Lord will be so pleased when he hears!"

He tried to hold up his smile for his now grinning coworker, but Peter wasn't sure how well he succeeded. Regret was starting to settle in his stomach like a rock. Peter didn't think Crouch's offer had been quite as spontaneous as it felt. Perhaps this was one of life's tides that he should have fought, rather than give into.

I didn't manage to answer all of your questions, but I did a few of them, BlueWater5. Personally, I imagine the deeper Peter got into the Death Eaters the more things spiraled out of his control that by the end all he cared about was making it out of the war alive.

Special thanks to Coraluna for the excellent help she gave me with this fic to improve it!

Thanks for reading, I appreciate it :)