I"m back! Still jobless….still way too much homework….but here's the fourth chapter...one more to go.
I had a horrible time trying to write this one. As I try and make everyone more cannon Peter really gave me a ton of trouble. Mostly because to my utter surprise, I found I really liked tiny, fierce Peter Pettigrew. I don't want him to become the cowardly mess that is canon Peter and trying to make it suitably believable while still making him loyal until his cannon life has been...ugh...a chore.
Also...I'm not a Hufflepuff...but damn sometimes I wish I was. They're badass. Seriously guys...if anyone could take over the world it would be Hufflepuff House.
If anyone has any ideas how to get James and Lily to work in their cannon life without being creepy PLEASE send me suggestions. I hate the whole old immortal man creeping on the teenage girl trope...seriously...of all romance/paranormal romance/fantasy/fanfiction tropes that one gives me the biggest squick factor. I've got a couple ideas but I'm not sold on any of them.
This is a tragedy...I think at this point it should be obvious there will be death and despair. You've been warned. Also, profanity warning, the boys are hard and jaded now.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts he watched the sorting
ceremony through a film of tears. He didn't dare look up at the high table where Albus Dumbledore looked on with twinkling eyes, unaware that moments ago, as far as four time-looped men were concerned, he had coldly thrown killing curses at the Marauders.
As Sirius stalked over to start the fourth sorting of the Marauders, Peter tried to regulate his breathing. The death they had all just awoken from had been painless, but as far as Peter was concerned, he'd rather they'd all been mauled by werewolves, again. The mental anguish of watching his greatest hero fire off a killing curse in their direction was a Crucio straight to Peter's heart.
Fury, shame and despair rolled in his gut and Peter had an overwhelming urge to vomit. Seeing men and women he had lead in his first lives look at him with hate and disgust had been difficult but it was the failure that brought tears to his eyes. In three different lives, Peter William Pettigrew had screwed his courage to the breaking point, lifted his chin and stared down bullies who'd turned into sadistic psychopaths and fought for what was right. All three times he'd failed to stop the Dark Lord.
Ten and a half minutes later Peter nearly strangled Padfoot when the hat finally shouted out "Hufflepuff."
"So bets on the reason behind the stall?" Peter looked up at Remus Lupin, who even at 11, was already taller than him.
"The wanker obviously decided to fuck with us." The casual profanity from the lips of a cherub-faced James Potter had several firsties around them looking faint.
"Which wanker is that," Peter drawled, "The hat or Padfoot?"
Minerva McGonagall called out, "Lupin, Remus" and the werewolf gave a cold smile that looked extremely creepy on a child.
"Guess I'm about to find out."
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts he decided to go back to "his" house. He'd reluctantly been a 'Claw in his last life, but, dammit, he missed Gryffindor. Red and gold would always be where he belonged. The moment he'd opened his eyes and realized they were all back at the beginning, again, he'd felt an odd rush of excitement before the reality of who had killed them hit.
For a few minutes, while he waited for Sirius to be sorted, Peter had imagined a life where they were all Gryffindors. Where they earned Dumbledore's trust and joined the Order. A life where, together, the Marauders would finally end Voldemort.
Instead, Pads had apparently decided to throw out all their previous strategizing. Fuming silent, Peter glared at Sirius as the dark haired boy leaped up and half tackled Remus down into a seat next to him. How Padfoot went from being A.K. to immediately pulling a prank that involved convincing the sorting hat to put Sirius freaking Black in motherfucking Hufflepuff and then the goddamn werewolf just followed along was so frustrating Peter could scream. It was as if Sirius was determined to convince everyone he still had zero sense of responsibility.
Peter knew differently. He would never admit it, but Peter respected Sirius Black more than anyone else except Albus Dumbledore himself. Sirius was deadly with a wand and his sense of vengeance was only eclipsed by Peter's own. They'd built a friendship that transcended death on a shared desire to kill everyone who wore a Dark Mark. Peter knew Sirius could be serious when the situation called for it. He nearly smacked himself when the man's voice popped into his head."That's cause I am Sirius, Pete."
"Great," Peter muttered, "just great. Now, the git's in my head."
As McGonagall called out, "Pettigrew, Peter" James shoved a sharp elbow into Peter's side.
"Get Hufflepuff," the haunted boy whispered and Peter rolled his eyes and stepped forward to meet the sorting hat for his fourth time. To hell with Sirius and James, they needed to get into the Order this time around and the easiest way to do that would be to be in Dumbledore's old house.
"Just stick me in Gryffindor and be done with it," Peter thought as the old, smelly hat slipped over his eyes.
"Gryffindor...eh? Curious and curiouser...You, Mr. Pettigrew, are quite the hardest person I've ever had to sort and that includes your little time-looped friends."It was all Peter could do not to just pluck the hat off his head and march over to Gryffindor.
"Look hat, cut the crap, you're basically an enchanted Ouija board and I'm not gonna argue with you about sticking me in a house I don't belong in. Just stick me in MY house and move on."
"Ah...but Mr. Pettigrew you are most certainly NOT a Gryffindor." The air seemed to freeze around Peter and suddenly he felt light-headed like he'd just taken a cutting hex to the heart.
"Of...c...c..c..course I'm a Gryffindor. I've a..a..always been a Gryffindor." His old childhood stammer echoed in Peter's thoughts.
"No, no...in fact Mr. Pettigrew. You and your compatriots are hardly fitted for Hogwarts. You are cruel, cold and utterly fixated on vengeance to the point of stupidity. If I had the choice I'd throw all three of you out on your ears. Unfortunately, I am the SORTING Hat and so sort you I must. I sort children into a house that will foster qualities they admire and are predisposed to….and you...you...what good qualities do you have Mr. Pettigrew?"
"You're saying I'm a..a.. Slytherin." Peter realized his hands were shaking and he quickly clasped them together to keep anyone from noticing.
"Slytherin...eh? No...no…like your friends all you have left is vengeance. Vengeance to the point of stupidity, vengeance that burns so hotly it cannot be concealed, vengeance that has consumed so much of who you once were that you are too afraid to ever consider the consequences of abandoning it. Hmmm..a core of loyalty to your fellow Marauders though….yes..yes...like the others...And really...the most dangerous...the most powerful of the founders...the one who's vengeance the others never dared to cross was always Helga ….HUFFLEPUFF! "
Peter stumbled towards Hufflepuff in a daze and would have walked right past the Marauders if Remus had snagged his arm and tucked Peter next to him and Padfoot.
"You ok, mate?" Looking up Peter could see Pads frowning down at him in concern.
"Hat..said..d..d..didn't belong..." With barely concealed horror Peter realized he was stuttering again, just like he had when he was a frightened child on the playground before he'd found his magic and his courage.
"Yeah," Remus said glumly, "Us too...nice to know even a thousand-year-old talking accessory thinks we're useless fuck-ups."
"Psh." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Do you even hear yourself Moony? It's a thousand-year-old talking accessory...who gives a fuck?"
"Mr. Black! Language!" The three Marauders looked up to see a Hufflepuff prefect glaring at them.
"Er...who are you again?" Sirius squinted at the frowning boy. "You look familiar…"
"I'm Dedalus Diggle."
"F...f...fuck," Peter said.
"Yeah...fucking Merlin's hairy balls," Sirius repeated and all three boys looked sick. The last time Peter had seen the bossy boy in front of them he'd been in pieces nailed to Madam's Malkin's door.
Unaware of the vivid images of death flashing through the heads of the boys in front of him Diggle's voice ratcheted up another three decibels. "I said WATCH your language, Black. Obviously, the sorting hat's gone insane. Who in their right mind thinks a BLACK belongs in Hufflepuff…I won't tolerate..."
"Fuck you," Moony snapped back a growl building in his throat. "Hat said Hufflepuff...so we're 'Puff's. Be glad. With us here nobody gonna be stupid enough to mess with Badgers."
"At least not more than once," Padfoot said with a grim smile. Unconsciously, Peter's eyes drifted over to where Rastaban Lestrange was holding court at Slytherin table.
"Don't take Diggle to heart," A stern seventh year "Puff rolled her eyes. "Obviously we're going to have our hands full just keeping you three alive if that's how you treat prefects." She leaned forward, "But please at least try to be respectful to authority figures. We have an actual chance at the house cup this year and I would really appreciate it if that wasn't jeopardized by three firsties."
"Four," All three men crammed into boys bodies said automatically as James plopped down next to Peter, glowing at the thought of returning to his old house. The boys dug into the feast and the day would have gone fine if Bellatrix Black hadn't finally found her voice after being struck utterly speechless with shock and fury when her cousin had broken generations of tradition by going to Hufflepuff.
The psychotic seventh year sauntered over to Hufflepuff table twirling her wand. Without a conscious thought, the Marauders stood up together their feet automatically sliding into a duelers stance.
"Bella," Sirius said tightly.
"Oooh….poor...widdle...Sirius. I can't imagine what Auntie Walburga's Howler's gonna say tomorrow. I bet she's blasting you off the family tapestry as well speak...although…" the older girl twisted her head and tapped her chin with her wand, miming thinking extremely hard. "At least you managed to get sorted. I mean 10 mins….I think we were beginning to wonder if the hat was gonna out you as a squib. Instead, the hat shoved you into Hufflepuff…" she grinned nastily, " 'cause nobody else would take you or your little fucked up friends. Who are they anyways Sirius...aren't you gonna introduce your favorite cousin Bella?"
To the children in the Great Hall, Sirius seemed totally unconcerned but this was the fourth time Peter Pettigrew had attended Hogwarts, the fourth time he had fought and died with the men beside him. He noticed how Sirius just held himself back from flinching, how the lines around Remus' eyes grew more pronounced, how Jame's wand hand flex and twitch. Peter Pettigrew's courage came roaring back.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew was sorted into Hogwarts the Hufflepuff table exploded in the middle of the Welcoming Feast and a large sliver of magically enhanced wood impaled Bellatrix Black, crippling her for life. The explosion was accompanied by a huge flare of what people assumed was accidental magic but was nothing of the sort. Peter Pettigrew had always been a dab hand at wandless explosions.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts he spent months convincing the Marauders to go up to Dumbledore's office and lay out the entire mess. In the end, addicted to Dreamless Sleep, (again), with despair eating at the edges of their souls they trudged up to the gargoyle, rode the spinning stairs to an office filled with whirling silver instruments, and confessed their sins.
The twinkle left Albus Dumbledore's eyes that night and never returned. They went to work with grim determination and the Marauders broke the record for the number of detentions served with a headmaster in their very first year.
Peter told himself that they needed the help, that they needed the Defeater of Grindelwald if they were to succeed where they had failed before, but he never told Dumbledore how they'd died in their third life. He convinced the other Marauders that it wasn't important but mostly he didn't want to see Albus Dumbledore look at him in disappointment. In the back of his head, a little voice gibbered and screamed "c..c..c...coward".
The fourth time Peter Pettigrew attended Hogwarts the gregarious children of Hufflepuff didn't know what to do the Marauders. They didn't know what to make of the four strange boys with old eyes who called Headmaster Dumbledore, Albus. The four boys who woke up screaming every night, but broke up fights in the hallways with brutal efficiency and lectured second and seventh years alike on the importance of unity. The students of Hufflepuff didn't know what to do with the Marauders, but they didn't care, they loved them anyway.
They hugged James Potter and ignored how he flinched every single time before getting teary-eyed and relaxing into their embrace. Hufflepuffs everywhere started carrying chocolate bars in their robe pockets when they noticed how Remus glowed every time a candy bar melted on his tongue. A group of fifth years claimed they were practicing for their O.W.L.S. and managed to permanently charm the boys' beds together when they found out they slept better together. The third years recruited the Ravenclaws to help them research the best jokes in the hopes of making the boys laugh. And the sixth years asked the Prewett Twins to help come up with crazy pranks when they realized that it made Sirius Black's mouth twitch.
The second year, the new first-year "puffs one-upped everyone by approaching the Slytherins with a bribing scheme that involved copious amounts of cookies in return for a vow to ignore the Marauders. It became a game in Hufflepuff to see who could make a Marauder laugh. If they thought it strange that Peter Pettigrew could correct a seventh year dueling stance, or that James Potter automatically answered O.W.L. level questions with a distracted air while reading a book on animagi transformations they didn't mention it. "Puffs stuck together and woe to anyone who even thought about touching the fey broken boys of Hufflepuff.
Like the massive puzzle that sat in Hufflepuff common room the students of Hufflepuff pieced the broken Marauders back together and in doing so they managed to foster a sense of community among the Hogwarts Houses' that hadn't been since the founders.
The fourth time Peter Pettigrew attended Hogwarts he began to believe that this time they would manage to defeat Voldemort. He watched James hesitantly make friends with Lily Evans, although the man was careful to play the role of older brother.
He watched as the entire house of Hufflepuff started dropping obvious hints to Remus that they knew he was a werewolf and they didn't care. He watched as Remus decided to start teaching everyone defense and laughed for an hour the first time a student jokingly called Remus "Professor Lupin." Peter marveled as the Prewett Twins dragged Sirius into endless pranks and the beaten dog look faded from Sirius's eyes.
But In the dark, curled up to his sleeping friends, Peter worried that the Marauders were losing focus and so he pushed himself harder, spent longer hours with Dumbledore planning and practicing and strategizing. And sometimes...once in a great while….he'd sneak away from all the clingy Hufflepuffs, ward a broom closet near the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy with silencing spells, and scream himself hoarse with memories of torture, death, and the terrible fear that everything they were doing still wouldn't be enough.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts, a pitch battle broke out in Diagon Alley while Marauders were getting their books for 6th year. Instead of apparating away, instead of keeping their strength secret until they were ready, James Potter saw red when Lily Evans purposefully attracted the Dark Lord's attention to protect the group of muggleborn first years she was escorting in the Alley.
Faced with Lily's death, James Fleamont Potter finally realized he'd always had the sort of courage that defies death. The messy haired boy called up four lifetimes of curses and dueled the Dark Lord all the way down the Alley in a deadly barrage of spells. Just like they had, all those lifetimes ago, Sirius Orion Black, Remus John Lupin and Peter William Pettigrew came to his rescue.
The fourth time Peter Williams Pettigrew stood against Lord Voldemort he was blown through the window of Ollivanders and Crucioed with a thousand wands strewn around him, broken glass cutting into his writhing body. Together, Mr. Moony, Padfoot and Prongs took on Lord Voldemort to protect their friend and Peter watched them trembling. As James screamed in pain and Remus panted with exhaustion and Sirius's eyes grew wide with fear Peter William Pettigrew took hold of the dwindling flame of courage in his chest and stood back up. A deep desire for vengeance twisted itself into utter loathing and Peter Pettigrew killed Lord Voldemort with an Avada Kedavra straight to the heart.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts he was hailed as the Savior of Magical Britain. Two weeks later a serpentine monster rose from a steaming cauldron and attacked Platform 9 ¾ as families prepared to send their children off to another year at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord ordered the death of anyone found with a black and yellow tie in retaliation again the Hufflepuff who had managed to kill him. The death toll was staggering and included all but six Hufflepuffs.
A few days later, still shellshocked, Peter locked himself in a broom closet for three days and screamed so hard and long that he permanently damaged his throat. Even with Madam Pomfrey's healing potions, his voice was a broken raspy drawl.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts, the Marauders left Hogwarts in the middle of their seventh year to follow Dumbledore and the Order of Phoenix into a war of attrition that raged across Europe for twenty years.
Every year the Marauders would sit up on the night of the September 1st Hufflepuff Massacre and get blindingly drunk on firewhiskey and recount all the crazy, kind, wonderful things they could remember the Hufflepuffs doing for them. Sometimes, older Hufflepuffs would join them, but as the years dragged on there were fewer and fewer 'Puffs left. "Puffs stuck together and anyone who had ever been part of the House of Badgers had rallied against Voldemort. But it had merely meant that more 'Puffs died.
On the 10th anniversary of the Massacre, the Marauders made an unbreakable vow, that no matter how many times they were reborn they would never, ever be Badgers again. The House had given far too much and their loyalty had extracted far too high a price.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew lived, he watched James Potter pick up the broken pieces of Lily Evans Longbottom after her husband and children were killed in front of her by a vindictive Severus Snape. He watched Sirius Black fall in love with Minerva McGonagall and a piece of Remus Lupin die the day the haggard werewolf stood as best man at their wedding. He watched Albus Dumbledore's shoulders curl inward and his eyes grow to be cold chips of blue fire.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew lived, he watched with despair as the warm courage that had always burned so brightly in his soul steadily dwindle to an ember, no matter how desperately he blew on it. He and Albus were the masterminds, the strategizers, and the leaders of the rebellion that kept Voldemort from taking over the entire world but they were old men, even if Peter was trapped in the body of a young one, and they were both so tired.
Almost thirty years after Peter William Pettigrew was sorted in a Hogwarts House for the fourth time he sat in a bunker, too depressed to drink, beside his three best friends as a few miles away the remnants of the Order of Phoenix sent up a conjured white flag.
"Fuck if I'm gonna give the mother-fucker the satisfaction of killing me," Sirius snarled his fingers twisting around the wedding ring that he had never taken off, despite the fact that "Minnie" had died years ago.
"I'll drink to that," James said and took a gulp straight from their last bottle of Ogden's Finest.
"If we go down fighting, we'll doom the rest of them," Remus pointed out.
"So we don't fight," Peter said in his raspy whisper, "Doesn't mean we can't die."
"And maybe…" Remus said.
"Just maybe…" Sirius echoed.
"We wake up at Hogwarts," James finished.
The fourth time Peter William Pettigrew attended Hogwarts he never graduated, he never married, he drank too much, he had a habit of casting silencing spells in empty rooms and screaming with despair, but he never gave up. As he lifted a wand to his temple, in concert with his three best friends, in a dark bunker that smelled of despair Peter William Pettigrew used the last, tiny spark of courage left in his soul and defied Lord Voldemort with his friends, once more.
I would just like to finish this up with a comment that suicide is never the answer. While art often imitated life, that does not mean that the choices characters make are the right ones. If you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide please, remember you are loved. At the very least you're loved by a mediocre fan fiction author who thinks of you fondly multiple times a day for reading her fever dreams. (Seriously, no pun intended, I squeal every time I see a stat and spend days walking on clouds.) Talk to a friend...hell message me. But don't give up.
