He was always the butt of the jokes; the mouse--- the one who couldn’t do magic as well as the other three.
Peter Pettigrew had always been a quiet boy, but ever since he had met the Marauders he had had friends. Now, he always wondered if they were his real friends, and if he was just some other person that they just toyed with to be entertained. But, he had always been with the other three in school, so he had thought they were his companions. Peter had put up with this for nearly ten years. It wasn’t as much Remus than it was James and Sirius that he was concerned about, but now he felt as if he was no longer loved.
Now, no less than ten years after he had met his so-called ‘friends’, he was no longer the boy that had friends--- he was no longer the boy who ‘had gone to school with the three pranksters’. He was once again the quiet boy--- man, a few years out of Hogwarts. He lived alone, living in fear of one man. A man who had more powers than any two wizards put together--- probably even five. But this man had but one problem that concerned Peter--- he was evil. He was extremely evil, and Peter knew that he would always be that way.
Peter wanted to join him, to be in line with one of the most powerful men in the Wizarding World . . . Voldemort.
Peter didn’t want to be evil, but he knew that he would be accepted. He wanted power, and the fear that the others would have of him.
He hated his life as it was now. Day after day of being hung upside-down with his trousers showing, of being the end of the ruthless jokes, of being kept in a small cage when he would turn into his Animagus form. All of these things made Peter hate his old friends more and more every second of his meaningless life. And he knew that hate was a very strong word.
He was constantly reliving those horrifying memories in his mind. He had always wanted to get back at James, Remus, and Sirius, but he wanted his revenge to be good. He wanted it to be so amazing that they would never see it coming.
~ * ~
Peter thought day and night of his prank, and what he could do. He met the Marauders nearly every day just to talk and hang out. They hadn’t drifted apart since their Hogwart’s days. Now that James and Lily had married, they had had a baby, Harry, and James had grown up a bit. He hadn’t completely changed from his old self, but anyone with a brain could see that he had matured.
Sirius had not matured all that well, but he had turned into a very fine-looking man. Peter envied him so--- he looked down at his dirty hands and ragged shirt and wept. They had always gotten all of the stares and secret gifts from the stalking girls in their year who seemed to be everywhere they were. Peter had always felt that they could have possibly been staring at him, but those hopes had been shattered as soon as he saw their repulsed faces when he had given them a smile. James would usually see, and once again tease him about it later. Peter would always play it off as a joke, but inside, those stares and jokes gnawed at his insides fiercely. It made him want to cry.
It made him want to kill the Marauders.
~ * ~
“The Dark Lord doesn’t just meet anyone.”
“I assure you, I want nothing more than to be his servant.”
Silence ensued for a moment before the hooded figure in front of him spoke again. He pointed his wand to Peter’s throat as he said, “I know if you’re telling the truth.”
“My intentions are noble, sir. I want nothing else.”
The Death Eater’s cold, grey eyes stared at the nothingness in Peter’s. Peter just made himself think he wanted to serve Lord Voldemort, that he wanted to be a Death Eater.
They were some of the most vile, cruel human beings that could walk the face of the earth. He focused in his mind only good things about the Dark Lord---which was quite tough, depending on the circumstances. He knew that the man in front of him could read minds. Legilimency, they called it.
The Death Eater bought it.
“All right. But you must first complete a task . . .” the man said. Peter didn’t know that what the man was about to say would literally change his life forever. His prank wouldn’t be what he had expected.
He told Peter of how he was to do Lord Voldemort a favour, proving him of his loyalty and the purity of his wishes to serve the Dark Lord. He had to murder a couple. Peter would have to betray them to the Dark Lord. If he didn’t kill them, then Voldemort would--- along with his self.
He snapped his fingers and a piece of parchment floated into the Death Eater’s hand, along with a quill. He still hadn’t revealed who he was, yet Peter knew that it was one of Voldemort’s most trusted followers. It could have been the deathly stillness around him, yet it could also have been the way he spoke and knew everything there was to know about this whole process.
“Give me your palm,” he told Peter menacingly, reaching out. Peter slowly extended his hand, wondering what the man was to do.
“Do you want power?” the man asked this so inaudibly Peter had to ask what he had just said.
“Do you want power? Supremacy over others?”
Peter nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I’m willing to betray anyone.”
“You’re going to have to tell me. Then you’re going to have to go through with this. If you really are loyal to the Dark Lord, then you’re going to have to murder them for him.”
The man paused for a moment, letting his words sink into Peter.
“Where are Lily and James Potter?” the man asked, taking a step towards him threateningly.
“I . . .”
“Where are the Potters?” he cut in. He wasn’t going to allow Peter to toy with him. “You know that you want them to die. They’ve mocked you for too long.”
Peter knew what he was doing. The man was trying to relate to him.
But Peter finally realised why he was doing this. The Death Eater was right. He was doing it to get back at James, Remus, and Sirius for always having everything they had ever wanted. They had always had all the girls, then their own looks and charm that seduced those girls all the time. They had had all the power in the world over him during their school years. They were the only reason he hated himself so. He looked at them, and then looked at himself unbelievingly. How had they even become his friends in the first place?
Peter stood silent for a moment, reliving the instant in his brain where Lily and James, his friends, had given him their whereabouts. They were supposed to be hiding from Lord Voldemort, and now their mate was about to tell him right where they were.
At that very moment, a line of Death Eaters marched into the room. They were chatting greedily amongst themselves. They were talking of the Dark Lord, and of his and their murders.
Peter leaned over and whispered something in the ear of the man in front of him. The Death Eater grinned.
This no longer was a tiny prank.
The Death Eater pressed the quill into Peter’s palm. Peter’s hand, all of a sudden, was on fire. As he looked away from his own body in agony, he looked at the man standing in front of him, his snarl in a threatening line.
Peter noticed that his black hood had fallen back off his arm, and after the ritual was over, he slowly pointed a trembling finger towards it.
“What is that swirl? There, on your arm,” he asked. The Death Eater seemed to look appalled. He shoved Peter into the wall a few feet away. He grunted on the impact.
“If you ever tell anyone what you have seen today, I will hunt you down myself and kill you. I don’t care if the Dark Lord knows that I may have killed one of his . . . best followers,” he said, looking him up and down.
Peter nodded quickly, indicating that he had heard him before the man did anything else to him.
He ruffled Peter’s shirt a bit more, then let go.
“You get that after you’re done.” He indicated the ‘swirl’ Peter had noticed.
He pushed the quill down into Peter’s hand for another moment of anguish for Peter, and then stopped. His smirk was now more pronounced.
“Your name.”
Peter wrote his name in his own blood on the piece of parchment, making an oath to serve the Dark Lord and to complete the task.
The Death Eater snapped his fingers once again and the parchment sailed into the air, then disappeared. In its place appeared a small slip of paper.
Peter took it slowly. He knew whom this mission was set for.
He opened the slip of paper and turned it over, reading it closely. He had to squint to read the small, formal writing. He nearly stumbled when he read. But he couldn’t show his sign of weakness in front of the Death Eater opposite him.
Godric’s Hollow
~ * ~
Peter ventured quietly up the steps, his wand securely in his back pocket. He hadn’t meant for his hoax to go this far. But now, he did.
And they were going to be scared.
Peter silently shook his head at the horrid voice inside himself. His heart beat rapidly as he ascended the stone steps to their porch, eventually resting a trembling finger onto the doorbell.
After a few moments, James came to the door, sincerity in his face as he saw who was calling.
“Peter!” he said loudly, reaching down to shake his hand. Peter took it, waving his arm up and down. He felt nothing, but it was a shake of old friends.
“I . . . I . . .” he stuttered, hardly aware of what he was supposed to do.
“Come in, Peter, come in. It’s gotten quite chilly, lately, hasn’t it?” he asked, opening the door wider to allow the man to enter.
“Yeah . . .” he said slowly. “Yeah, it has . . .”
Nothing compared to my heart, he thought again.
He scolded himself internally and replied, “James, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Anything. Peter, I just wanted to let you know something. Thank you for always being my friend.”
Peter almost burst into uncontrollable laughter. Of course James would tell him this three minutes before he was to murder him. How ironic.
Peter gave him a warm smile--- as warm as he could possibly muster for the iciness that radiated through his body. His hand still shook behind his back.
“Me too. Thanks, James.”
“Hello, Peter,” Lily said, entering the room with a giggling baby Harry on her hip. The baby gurgled in response to his ‘uncle’ being in the room.
“Oh, Lily. Peter’s just stopped by for a moment.”
“Hello, Lily.”
“Now, what was it that you had come to see me about?” James asked fearlessly, unaware of the task Peter had been assigned. Lily continued to busy herself with Harry, not even listening to the conversation.
As Peter looked from James to his wife to his son, he knew right then and there that he wouldn’t be able to do it. His prank would he have to be something of his own accord--- his own doing. It would have to be another round of hanging James or himself up by each other’s underwear as payback. He’d go now to tell the Death Eater that he had changed his mind.
“I--- James, I must go.” He rose from his chair decisively, not even turning back to see the surprised expression on James face. He dodged the corner of the table and ran out of the house, allowing the screen door to slam behind him.
“What happened?” Lily asked.
“I thought he’d be here longer. I was going to offer for him to stay for dinner, but he ran out.”
“He appeared as if the something he was going to tell you was important.” Lily eyed James suspiciously.
“Yes. Yes, it did.”
~ * ~
“I’m not doing it. I refuse. I can’t--- I can’t kill my---“
He couldn’t allow the Death Eaters to know that he was James and Lily’s friend. Well, stranger, now. He couldn’t decide what he was to them at the present moment.
The feeling in the air was that of pure evil. Peter knew that Voldemort was somewhere nearby, but he chose to force that thought into the back of his mind. The Death Eater in front of him cursed loudly.
“You couldn’t do it?” he asked in a mocking tone. He snapped his fingers as he had before and the parchment flew back into his hand.
“Now the Dark Lord himself will kill them, along with you, too.”
“No. Please . . . I’ll do anything.”
The Death Eater cackled loudly. “You already should have murdered the Potters.”
Peter stared into his black eyes, full of hatred.
On that Halloween night, Peter Pettigrew realised that hate was stronger of a word than he had ever imagined.