Chapter 87 Peter's Memory

The moonlight seeped through the windows in the common room of Gryffindor Towers.

In a corner untouched by the moonlight, a small figure trembled beneath the chair.

Peter Pettigrew rubbed his hands, almost breathless.

What he had always feared in the last twelve years had finally happened. His old friend, Sirius Black, had escaped from Azkaban. He had infiltrated Hogwarts, and only a wall separated them.

Peter knew that, because he had betrayed Potter and his wife to Voldemort, Black had come seeking revenge and wanted to kill him.

Instinctively, he wanted to flee, but he didn't know where to hide. He knew Black too well. Now that he knew he was still alive, Black would not give up.

Even if there were hundreds of Dementors here, even if Hogwarts was completely in chaos, Black would not give up. He would not stop until he caught him. This was Sirius Black, a true Gryffindor, a monster who never knew fear or cowardice.

Maybe, he would do the same as twelve years ago, and fake his death.

This thought had just crossed Peter's mind, but he quickly rejected it.

This was not the Muggle Alley of twelve years ago. This time he wasn't facing Black alone.

This was Hogwarts. In the castle were Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin, McGonagall, Harry, James and Lily's son, and the young man named Evan Mason, each of them better, smarter, stronger, and braver than him.

Even if he could deceive Sirius Black, it would be impossible to deceive all those people!

"Where can I go if I escape again?"

If the surviving Death Eaters found out he was still alive, they wouldn't let him go. After all, the Dark Lord's defeat came right after Peter gave him the lead.

So far, Peter didn't understand how the man so powerful that no one dared to even mention his name, could be defeated by a baby. He felt he had clearly chosen the strong side. How had it all come to this point?

Everything seemed to come back to the starting point, to the moment he first entered the school twenty years ago.

Peter, the little dwarf, still remembered the sorting ceremony he attended at the school. He was thin and weak as he trembled towards the Sorting Hat. He put it on, and the large hat covered his eyes, he couldn't see the audience at all.

He was too scared. That's how he was as a child. He did nothing at all. He was weak, not smart enough, and had no talent in magic. He feared being expelled by the hat. He feared seeing his mother's disappointed eyes again.

"Difficult, very difficult!" started the Sorting Hat in his ear. "You're not a brave child. You're not smart enough, you're not determined, and you're unwilling to work hard. Although you're pure-blood, it will be very tough to live in Slytherin, and you don't have the qualities required by Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Although you're mediocre, you're not willing to settle in the practical and ordinary Hufflepuff, let me think. Where should you go?"

"Yes, where should I go?"

He lost his father when he was young. Although his family was poor, his mother did everything she could to buy him all the magical tools. She had high expectations of him. Before going to bed, every night she would tell him the story of his father.

Peter still remembered his mother's story. In her account, his father was a brave Gryffindor. Although not the strongest, he was fearless, even in the face of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Peter could sense it in his mother's tone: she was proud of his father.

"Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor. I want to go to Gryffindor. I want to have courage. I am a brave man!" Peter shouted loudly at the Sorting Hat within. I want to change my cowardice. I want to be a warrior like my father. I want to be admired. I can't disappoint my mother!

"Gryffindor?!" The Sorting Hat felt it was peculiar. "You say you want to go to Gryffindor. Well, perhaps it may not be the best choice, but I hope it proves to be in the future. On your journey, find the courage that is buried deep within your heart."

"Gryffindor!"

Peter Pettigrew, on the stool, smiled happily. It was the most glorious moment of his life. He seemed to hear again the moment when the Sorting Hat shouted its choice to everyone with a loud voice. Finally, he could see his mother's satisfied eyes.

But his smile soon faded, and the Sorting Hat was right. He didn't fit in Gryffindor. The only thing he gained in this school was being the target of mockery.

Everyone mocked that he was not brave enough. The studies at Hogwarts pressured him. He discovered he didn't excel in anything. The professors looked into his eyes and felt only disappointment. He was drifting further from his mother's expectations.

He found no courage in this school, and he found himself becoming more and more ordinary and inferior.

He couldn't continue like this; he needed someone to help him.

Peter quickly identified the target. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin were the top three in his class. The three always shone in their little group, perhaps they needed one more member.

"Yes, I can play this role perfectly."

Fortunately for him, he was accepted. Peter Pettigrew felt hope and happiness for this. He thought that even if he couldn't be as good as them, at least he would have presence and make his mother proud of him.

For this presence and pride, Peter was willing to endure it all.

To others, he was a member of this little group. He was a friend of James, Sirius, and Lupin.

But only Peter Pettigrew knew he was just a follower and nothing more.

James considered him a tool to show off his talent in Quidditch at any time, and he was only there to make Sirius look braver and stronger. Even compared to Lupin, the werewolf, he always belittled himself.

Indeed, he never saw the three as friends. They were mere companions at best, but more often, he was just a follower.

With these feelings of cowardice and humility, eventually the latter faded away, as he feared this might also be the idea everyone had of him.

But Peter was content with it for a while. He didn't want to be in the spotlight and receive admiration from everyone.

As long as he was in his humble position in a corner, it was enough for him.

Perhaps he didn't find his courage in that old school, but he trusted in other ways to find the presence and honor he needed. Although it wasn't much, at least he wouldn't let his mother feel disappointed.

He hoped to have just enough to get through his years at Hogwarts.

The seven-year journey at Hogwarts finally allowed Peter to understand that what he needed was not courage, but sheer power.

If his father had ever had that kind of power, he wouldn't have died that way, and his and his mother's lives wouldn't have been so bitter.

Sheer power, that was what he had been chasing.

After graduation, his three companions wanted to join the Order of the Phoenix to fight Voldemort. Peter originally wanted to reject it because he knew the strength of both sides. But he didn't dare. He had gotten used to obeying the orders of the other three.

He didn't dare say "No" to his companions. It also required strong courage. He had never had it before. Moreover, he also feared disappointing his mother. He knew she wanted him to join the Order of the Phoenix.

The expectations of his mother had always put Peter under pressure, but it was not until that moment that he discovered the pressure had turned into a heavy burden that suffocated him.

Peter Pettigrew remembered the time when James, Sirius, and Lupin rejoiced in having defeated Voldemort's conspiracies time and time again, which filled him with increasing fear.

He could feel the wrath of the Dark Lord and could perceive his hatred towards those four individuals. It was like an endless nightmare.

This couldn't go on, Peter saw no benefit in fighting against Voldemort by himself. Even if he risked his life doing these things, only James, Sirius, and Lupin would receive the applause.

Not to mention that Dumbledore was gradually aging, his power waning; while Voldemort was at the peak of his powers, his strength stronger than ever.

It was time to choose his side. For a weak person, the most crucial thing was not to do something dramatic but to make a wise decision.

He couldn't die foolishly for Dumbledore, like his father, in the darkness. That foolish courage had no other meaning than to leave a heavy burden and pain for his wife and children.

He wanted to forge his own destiny. He wanted to gain sheer strength.

The Dark Lord had promised him. If the magical world unified, he would attain power and status he had never before imagined.

Although the means were different, with that, his mother would surely be proud of him.

As for jealousy and guilt for betraying his comrades, Peter never felt them.

In his eyes, he was just a follower. And always would be.