Peter Pettigrew walks leisurely down the street, looking up at each of the shops as he passes. His mother Enid is food shopping and she let Peter walk around town until she is done, allowing him some time to say goodbye to his hometown one last time before he leaves for Hogwarts on Wednesday, which is in two days.

Peter looks into a shop window on his right with some pretty trinkets on display, and when he turns his gaze to look up the street, he sees something far less pretty. Up ahead is a group of boys Peter's age, hanging around the candy store. They are leaning against the wall of the building, passing around candy and shoving each other in a way that one might call friendly, if you squint hard enough. Peter has faced these boys many times, in school and around town. These boys are what kids like Peter identify as bullies.

Peter feels a spike of fear, turning quickly to cross the street, planning to slip between the pharmacy and the post office behind which he knows is an alley that leads back to the grocery store down the street where his mother is. If he can get away unnoticed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Too late.

Peter continues walking across the road, quickening his pace slightly, his heartbeat already pounding in his ears. He can hear the boys following him, trying to close in on him yet again. Usually if he ignores them they'll get bored and find someone else to taunt, but he's been ignoring them for too long. They don't like knowing that they've lost power over one of the kids in their neighborhood.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," the boy calls after him, sounding much closer and much angrier. As soon as Peter reaches the sidewalk on the other side of the street, he decides to head back to the grocery store out in the open on the sidewalk. They wouldn't dare pick a fight where everyone can see. I hope.

The footsteps are right behind him now, and before the young wizard can even think to run, one of the boys jumps in his path, grinning unpleasantly. Peter stops in his tracks abruptly, turning around only to find three others, who quickly surround him. The only opening is to Peter's left, to the same alley that he had planned to go down before. He dashes down it away from the light and sound of the main street, only thinking a second later that they had meant for him to go down here.

The boys laugh at his attempt to escape as they run after him, sounding like dogs barking after an animal they are chasing. Because that is what this is, a hunt for the sport and amusement of the dogs, and Peter is their prey. The gang catches up to him with little difficulty, seeing as they are taller and more fit. They surround him yet again, this time with Peter backed up against a wall. He presses up against it, trying to get as far away from them as he can possibly be.

"Don't bother calling for help," one of them says, Bruce, the leader of the group. "No one will come help you, you're so pathetic and useless. I doubt anyone will even know you're gone." The other three snicker in response.

"That's not true," Peter replies, his voice coming out much more wobbly than he hoped. He talks a small step forward in an attempt to look brave. "My mother is just down the street, and if I'm gone too long she'll come looking for me." Right away he realizes that was the wrong thing to say. The muggles laugh, their taunting roars echoing off the walls of the alley, which has never felt so small and tight.

"Is mummy going to come save you?" Bruce cackles. "As if." He shoves the boy back against the wall, a glint in his eyes that tells Peter that the bully has only just started with his fun, and Bruce is sure going to enjoy it immensely. Bruce looks over his shoulder at his group.

"What do you say, mates?" he says, "Shall we see how long it takes for Petey to start crying?" Peter bites his lip, which has already begun to wobble from fear. Not very long at all. He braces himself from what is to come, then he hears something that he has never been happier to hear in his entire life.

"Peter, what's going on?" His mother Enid is standing at the end of the alley on the street, her voice loud in the alley, and her long shadow hanging over the bullies. Bruce tenses, all humor gone from his expression, realizing that Peter had not been lying when he had said his mother would come looking for her son.

"Nothing," Peter says quickly, trying to hide the relief from his voice. "Just with some friends," he adds when one of the boys looks at him pointedly. He slips between the boys, trying his best not to touch them or look at them or show any sign that he is extremely glad to see his mother. But before he can get out of reach of them, Bruce grabs his right arm and Peter can feel his awful breath rasping in his ear.

"If you tell her," he hisses, "you know what will happen." And Peter does. But for one moment, he has the urge to turn around and tell them that he is a wizard, that he'll be going to Hogwarts, and that they were worthless muggles, living boring, pointless lives. He wants to tell them they are dirt, that he could easily step on them and wipe them off his shoes without any trouble at all. But Peter doesn't.

Peter pulls his arm from Bruce's much too tight grasp and walks over to his mother as calmly as he can, fighting the nervous energy and panic that is screaming at him to run. Enid frowns behind Peter at Bruce and his gang, who follow Peter out and glare at him threateningly when his mother looks away. Enid and her son wait until the boys have crossed the street and disappeared around a corner before they walk in the opposite direction towards home.

Tension stretches between the two as Peter tries to discreetly slow his breathing and calm his quivering hands. He tightens his sweaty hands into fists and slips them into his pockets, looking down at the ground as he blinks away the tears that had started to form in his eyes. It is not until a full two minutes has passed that Peter hears his mother pull in a breath.

"What was that about?" Enid asks carefully, as if she has begun to realize that her son has been lying to her about being bullied, as if she is afraid that if she presses too hard Peter won't tell her anything.

Mother, those boys have been bullying me for the past year.

"I told you, it was just some friends from school," Peter replies. Enid raises her eyebrows at him.

"It didn't look too friendly to me," she states in a quiet voice, noticing he is already slipping away.

It didn't look friendly because they were bullying me. I'm their favourite kid to bully. They do it almost every day at school and every day that they can find me when I go out during summer.

"We were just talking, it's really nothing to worry about," Peter insists.

"Well, if it was nothing…" Enid trails off, giving up.

It's not nothing. I'm terrified to go to school and to walk around town by myself. I feel scared, weak, and pathetic.

"Trust me, it is."

After Peter has helped put the groceries away with his mother, he walks upstairs to his room, closing the door carefully behind him. He falls onto his bed and buries his face into his pillow, allowing a few tears to pour out of his eyes before he blinks them away. If I told her about the bullying, maybe it could be better. I could walk downstairs right now and tell about all the teasing, about all the things Bruce has done. Something relaxes a bit in Peter's heart, hope and relief that he could do it that easily, that it could all be taken care of for him by an adult. But then he thinks of the boys' faces when he had mentioned his mother, their laughter taunting him that he relied on his own mother. Is that such as bad thing? Wanting my mother to take care of me? It is a bad thing if I want to be brave enough to be in Gryffindor. Peter frowns at that last thought. He had never considered Gryffindor, he had just accepted he simply was not brave enough, smart enough, or cunning enough for the other houses. Hufflepuff is known for their loyalty. I haven't actually been in a situation where I needed to be loyal, but I suppose if my parents were in Hufflepuff, I must be capable of loyalty too.

Peter suddenly thinks back to fourth grade in school, when Bruce had punched a third grader and left him to cry. A boy in their year—Peter can't remember his name—but he had gone over to the boy, seen that he was okay, then walked up to Bruce and out right demanded that he stop pushing kids around. The bully and his gang had laughed at the boy and Bruce shoved him to the ground, hard, but the boy just stood back up again and punched Bruce right in the nose. He had then said something along the lines of 'now you know what it feels like' and taken the third grader to the headmaster's office to report the incident. Bruce and the boy both got suspended for fighting, but Bruce never touched the boy again. Peter had been in such awe at the bravery of that fourth grader, not a hint of fear as he stood up to the bully.

That is why I can never be in Gryffindor. He was so brave, while I stand there shaking like an idiot every time I see Bruce. Bravery is something people are born with, I suppose. I get scared of so many things so easily. I am not brave. Peter suddenly feels incredibly small; like the world is so big it is crushing him, squeezing him into as tiny and out of way space as he can be. And he wants nothing more than to feel something other than that.

Is it possible to be brave if I am not born brave? Is it possible to be brave if I am afraid so easily? Is it possible to be brave if all I know how to be is afraid?

Maybe I am afraid to be brave.