Peter was running, running, running. Thank Merlin for muggles and their drains. It was easy enough to get to one. And his rat form was just the right size to slip through the grate. It had been quite the fall before he hit solid ground again but he hadn't even felt any fear at that. Adrenaline was still pumping through him. That's what kept him going as he ran. Through drains, so many drains. He had never run quite so much before. It was far easier to do in this form than a human. There was no way he would have ever been able to run this much as a human.

Let's be honest, you would have never got him down in a sewer of all places as a human. As a rat, Peter wasn't too thrilled either but it wasn't like he had a choice. They were the only place he was guaranteed not to get caught. They probably wouldn't even think of looking down here for him. No one knew that he was a rat, after all. Unless someone told but that would mean admitting that Sirius and James were illegal Animagi as well and would they really do that?

He didn't know what anyone them would do, hence the running. Get as far away as physically possible. Get somewhere relatively safer. That might give him a chance to think things through. Try to come up with a plan.

Not that any of this had gone to plan in the first place. Though, had he even had a plan in the first place? Not really. He had just wanted to check on James and Lily. He hadn't expected anything to happen. The Dark Lord hadn't shared anything with him!

No, there was that thinking. He wasn't supposed to be doing that. It was slowing him down. No thinking. No.

All of this was purely on instinct. He wasn't thinking right now. He couldn't think. He needed to run, run, run. Get as much distance between him and there as possible. Which meant running. So much running. It was almost freeing in way, running like this. He was going so fast that he couldn't really think even if he wanted to.

Which he didn't. He didn't want to think. He didn't even want to wonder. No. There would be none of that. None.

He was just going to keep running.

Eventually he did tire in this form. Even a rat couldn't go on forever, after all. Even though he wanted to. He wanted to keep running and running and running.

Not even because it was freeing, like he had thought hours ago. Was it really hours ago? It felt like hours ago. A rat couldn't run for hours, could it? That's not what mattered right now. What mattered was the fact that he physically could run no further.

Having made up his mind, he came to a sudden stop. Almost immediately, all of his muscles cried out in pain. Maybe he should have stopped a little bit slower than that. It would have bit a bit easier on the paws too. Not that any of that mattered, he had stop now and finally he could take a proper breath.

He was still in the sewers. His nose twitched. Why did a rat's nose have to be so sensitive? He could really do with not smelling sewage and waste and Merlin knows what else. Muggles really were disgusting. Yuck. He scrambled back a bit, hoping that that would lessen the smell. It did not. Peter really didn't want to find out if rats could throw up but that smell was going to let him find out if he didn't get used to it fast. But how did you even go about getting used to smells? Peter didn't know. He bet Remus would know. Remus always knew things like that. Or, at least knew where to find out such facts. Peter wasn't quite so good at that. He was good at sensing danger, that's what made him such a good look out, but that was about it.

No, there would be no thinking about things like that. None. He couldn't focus on people or friends or people or anyone but himself. Because he was the only one who mattered right now. The only one who he could help. So, there would be no other thoughts like that. None.

He was going to keep going and going and going. Well, or right now, obviously, because he was taking a break. He didn't think that his legs would obey him if he tried to run any more right now. That was okay. He could still think about what he was going to do when he wasn't running. In fact, he could probably think more. But not right now. No. Mainly because he didn't even know what he should even begin to think about.

Overthinking things never came to any good anyway. That's what he was telling himself. And there was no point in looking back. He couldn't go back. Not ever probably. Which meant that he had to look forwards. He had to look out for himself. He was going to have to survive. What was the first step of survival? Be aware of your surroundings.

Carefully, he looked around. Though Peter didn't know what he expected to see. It wasn't like there was going to be another wizard hiding out down here. He almost laughed at the thought. Imagine that. Two rat Animagi. Yeah, the wasn't going to happen. There was no one else down here. There couldn't be.

So, yes, he was safe. He was in the clear. He couldn't even sense another real rats scurrying about. Which was weird. These were sewers, after all. Weren't there supposed to be rats in the sewers? But even though he was a rat the idea of coming across an actual rat made his skin crawl, as stupid as that sounded. Rats could be dirty, flea ridden creatures. Yuck. At least he knew that he was clean.

Well, maybe not so clean now that he had been scurrying through the sewers for an absolute age but still. At least he didn't have fleas. Even the thought of them made him shiver.

They used to tease Sirius about getting fleas. Something he always took offense too because of how vain he was over his hair. Apparently, that meant that there was no way that he could get fleas. Even though his fur looked and felt completely different from his fur. Remus had checked. Deliberately messing up his hair as he did so much to Sirius' annoyance. Peter smiled at the memory.

No. Wait. What was he doing? He couldn't think like that. He couldn't think of that. There was going to be no thinking backwards, remember? Only forwards. And he wasn't going to think of people. Only of himself. Because he was the only one who mattered. Just him.

And since he was the only one that mattered that meant that he had to take care of himself. And since he couldn't see any food around that meant resting. Sleeping. He needed to sleep. He hadn't slept since... well, the night before that night. How long ago was that? A few hours? A day? How long had he been running? He was tired. He didn't want to run anymore. But he also didn't want to be here. Who wanted to be in a sewer? Not that he had any choice.

Scuttling around, he looked for a spot that wasn't constantly dripping and was away from rushing water. Hey, he didn't know how much he moved around in his sleep as a rat. He did not want to risk being drowned in his sleep.

At least as a rat he could squeeze into all sorts of places. Particularly into spots where bricks had fallen out. And he could climb. So, he got himself as safe and as comfortable as he could (Which really wasn't a lot) and tried to make himself as small as possible. Now that the adrenaline was leaving him, Peter had just realised how cold it was down here. It was incredibly cold. Which wasn't helped by the fact that it was damp. Because, you know, it was the sewers. That still disgusted him though the smell wasn't as bad anymore. Had he really been down here that long or did you get used to bad smells really quickly? A yawn split his face. None of that mattered right now. What mattered was that he got some sleep. Sleep would make things make more sense. He would have a clearer head. He would be able to figure something o...

And with that, he was sound asleep.

The next morning or whatever time it was, you couldn't exactly tell time in the depths of the sewers and he wasn't going anywhere near the surface to figure that out, didn't make anything clearer than before he went to sleep. In fact, things were even less clear. Peter had no clue what his next steps were going to be. Except for the fact that he was hungry and needed food to resolve that. But, you know, he wasn't about to go to the surface to find some food so he was just going to have to ignore the rumblings of his stomach right now.

The only way he could successfully ignore that was to keep moving. If he kept moving, he didn't think about his stomach. And maybe if he got far enough away, he would feel safe enough to get out of the sewers and find some food. He just didn't know how much ground a rat could cover. It was all very confusing.

He was going have to keep going and going until he felt like he was safe enough. Not completely safe because he didn't think that that was going to happen any time soon. Just safe enough. Safe enough to poke his head out of the sewers, find some food and then hide again he supposed. He was definitely going to have to come up with more of a plan than that. But for now, he ran.

Peter eventually came to a stop again and caught his breath. Wow. That, that had been a lot. He didn't know how else to describe what had just happened there. And he didn't even feel any better for it. Wasn't running supposed to make you feel better? Forget your worries? He certainly hadn't forgotten anything. At all.

What had he done? What had he done? His head started to spin again and he sat down heavily. Not caring where or what he sat on. Something went squelch underneath him but, like he said, he really couldn't bring himself to care. He was a rat, after all. Rats didn't care what they went through or what they smelled like. There wasn't anyone around to complain about it. Except him and he couldn't complain right now.

He didn't really have the right to complain. Not when... Not when people were dead. And not just people but James. And Lily. And the Dark Lord seemingly. They were all gone. He didn't understand. Dead. Why did they have to die? Didn't the Dark Lord not just want Harry? Which meant that James and Lily weren't a problem. Right? Right? Why didn't Harry not just get dealt with and them left alone?

Was it because they were all in the house together? Did they get in the way? Godric's Hollow wasn't big. Not like Potter Manor. And he had told the Dark Lord about it. Even told him where Harry's bedroom was. Because, because... oh, that had seemed like a good idea at the time. He had asked for more information and Peter had eagerly given it to him. He had done that. Him.

No. He hadn't caused that. He hadn't. The Dark Lord, he would have caught up with Lily and James eventually. He would have. He was the Dark Lord. He was good at that sort of thing. Fantastic even. Of you could describe being good at killing people as fantastic. And the Death Eaters did most of that sort of thing anyway. Even though it looked like he was gone too. Like James and Lily.

James and Lily. Gone. Just like that. With wide, staring eyes. Peter shuddered. He was the one who had given them up. He was the one who betrayed them. For the Dark Lord.

And sure, he had technically blamed Sirius. Loudly. But that was so he could get away. People wouldn't understand that he didn't cause it. People would just say that he was the Secret Keeper so letting Voldemort access was all his fault. Which it wasn't. So, of course Peter had to get the blame off him. Secret Keepers helped him there, actually. Because everyone thought that Sirius was. Or they would think that. Dumbledore definitely thought that. Because James and Sirius were like brothers, of course Sirius would be his Secret Keeper. Peter just helped that little lie along a bit.

Okay, Peter had gone back and forth for days, making sure never to stay in the same place for too long as he thought. He didn't think that he had ever thought so much. Not even in school. He thought it had been days anyway. He wasn't completely sure. It was hard to tell time down here in the sewers. Did time even pass the same way if you were a rat? He wasn't sure. Animals experienced time differently, didn't they? Oh, he didn't know. How was he supposed to know that? Because he didn't. Whatever. That wasn't exactly the problem here.

As far as he could tell, he had three options. He could give himself up and explain everything. Maybe even make it out to be some sort of horrible mistake. If he snivelled and acted pathetic enough, he might just be successful. Maybe. Hey, being considered the weaker one of the group had to come in handy sometime.

The other option was to flee the country. Get out of here and never return. Hide away somewhere foreign so no one would ever find him ever again.

And the third one was to stay on country but in hiding. And yes, he did see the irony in that.

Of course, the first one wasn't really an option. Of course, it wasn't. He wasn't going to do something as ridiculous as that. Someone would see through him, even if he did manage to make some believe him. And he wasn't going to get punished for it. No. Not an option.

The second one technically made the most sense but he would have to find somewhere where no one would think of looking and did he really want to go somewhere foreign? The idea of not being in the UK anymore was such an odd and disappearing concept. And whereabouts would it be safer to go anyway? He might have blamed Sirius but what if they found out it was actually him? He would be tracked down, wouldn't he?

That would also be a problem of staying put but maybe they would look further afield first, thinking that he wouldn't dare stay here. His first instinct had been to get away as far as possible after all so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for them to think like that and think he'd got out of the country. That would really be the best option here but of course that meant that he wouldn't be able to show his face here because he was bound to be recognised.

Or would there even be wanted posters put up? Would people know what he looked like. If Peter was being honest with himself the idea of being important enough to be on a wanted poster was kind of flattering. He would be important enough for that to happen, wouldn't he? Oh, he wished he paid attention to James and Sirius when they talked about how all this worked.

Of course, there was always the chance that Sirius would be charged with everything and then they wouldn't be looking for him. But then he would be expected to be dead. Which meant not being able to show his face.

When it came down to it, it didn't matter what option he picked, he wasn't ever going to be able to show his face ever again. Not until the Dark Lord came back. If he came back. But he needed to figure out what he was going to do now.

Peter groaned. He really wasn't good at this planning nonsense. It had never been his forte. Even less so now that he was panicking about what to do.

What was he supposed to do?