Peter wandered through the sewers for a long time, unsure of what to do now. All thoughts of Dumbledore forgiving him had evaporated. He had likely put his other best friend into Azkaban now, and he didn’t dare show up to say Sirius was innocent because then he would have to confess. And that would put him in Azkaban. Or get him Kissed. Or dead. Not to mention that if Sirius were ever released from Azkaban, he’d be out for Peter’s blood. What could Peter tell Dumbledore now?
I’m very sorry one of my friends and his wife are dead and another of my friends is in Azkaban, and it’s all because of me, but would you mind terribly much hiding me so I don’t get killed?
The idea was laughable.
His best chance right now hinged on Sirius’s sanity. He had seemed mad to Peter, and if that kept up, no one would believe him that Peter was still alive. He could go off the assumption that the wizarding world thought him dead now. Dead was safe, so long as he wasn’t really dead. Of the only people who knew he had an animal form, one was dead, and another was in Azkaban (most likely). If he just avoided Remus, then he could stay a rat and be perfectly safe.
He stopped, resting his weight on the ground instead of his suddenly shaking legs. One was dead, the other imprisoned. Because of him. None of it had really sunk in yet because he had been on the edge of death for a couple days now, but he thought back to the smiling faces of his friends in school. Peter had never been very well-liked, but two popular and smart boys had taken him under wing in first year, and this was how he repaid them?
“The Potters, he says.”
He just gave them over, three lives that had meant so much to him, gone in an instant because of his betrayal.
“I hope it was worth it, Peter.”
Worth it? Of course it wasn’t! He hadn’t done this because he wanted to, he had had no choice! Can’t you understand, Sirius? Can’t you see I’m afraid?
“Where are they?”
Chance after chance to save them, but it was all over when he’d told the Dark Lord. Now he’d lost his only chance at protection and two of his best friends. Now he was exiled, against his will, terrified that someone might discover he still lived. None of it had been by his choice. He couldn’t think of anything he could’ve done differently that might’ve given him a chance to save them. He wasn’t brave like his friends. He had tried so hard.
“...betrayed them.”
I know! Peter scuttled off into a black hole in the sewers, free of other rats, hoping to outrun the voices in his memory, but hiding only made it worse. He had been hiding for so long already, hiding from the reality of being a spy. Hiding from his friends what had happened. Hiding from himself how scared he was until it was too late. He darted back out of the shadows, looking for a spot of light, an exit from the sewers, desperate for fresh air at last. He didn’t want to hide anymore, but he had nowhere else to go.
He squeaked as the bright light nearly blinded him. He had so lost track of time that he hadn’t realised it was day. How many days had he passed down in the sewers? He didn’t even know where he was anymore.
Trying to get used to the light, Peter wandered off into some grass, still dazed and disoriented. After a few moments, he could see well enough to notice the house towering over the grass, oddly misshapen and lumpy. The yard was cluttered with things that seemed to be boots, and Peter nearly bumped into something bigger than him but still small, which he only realized was a gnome after it had run off.
All that mattered now was moving. Not being in the darkness. Just keep moving and something will present itself.
As soon as that thought had passed, he felt a great tug on his tail and squealed as the ground moved away from him. All sorts of wild thoughts rushed through his mind in those few frantic seconds: Sirius had somehow gotten away from the Ministry and found him again; the Ministry believed Sirius and had caught him; maybe even James’s ghost had stayed and got hold of him, he just didn’t know anymore.
He was so shocked at seeing a freckled face framed with red hair peering at him that he stopped moving and stared.
The face grinned and held him up higher. “George!” The small child had been crouching over where Peter had been on the ground, but now stood up, toddling off after another boy who looked remarkably like him. “Lookit!”
Peter was shocked. He didn’t know how to react to this new development. After everything else that had happened, a child had grabbed onto his tail, and that was it? He would’ve laughed if he could.
George met his twin”for they must be twins, looking that much alike”and stared down at Peter for a moment, considering. The two grinned at each other, then ran off with Peter toward the misshapen house, yelling, “Mum!” in shrill child voices. The one holding him tripped when coming in the door, smacking Peter against something, so it was a dazed rat that was presented to their mother with pleas to keep it.
“Oh good lord, they caught an animal,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. Peter looked around the small kitchen, overwhelmed by how quick everything was happening. He was sure he could get out of this by turning back into a human, but he didn’t know if he wanted to. How would he explain it, for one thing?
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times,” their mother said. “You cannot just catch things out in the yard and keep them as pets. Not gnomes, and definitely not rats.”
Another boy, considerably older than the one holding Peter (still by the tail, which was starting to ache), came into the kitchen about then and spotted the commotion. “Hullo Freddie, what’s that?” he asked, crouching down onto his brother’s level.
“Don’t encourage them, Charlie....”
“It’s just a rat, Mum,” Charlie said. “Can I see it?” he added to Fred, holding out his hands. Fred glanced at his twin, then reluctantly put Peter down in his brother’s hands. Peter looked up at their older brother, twitching his tail away from the child’s hand. Staying like that for so long wasn’t very comfortable. “How about this, mates? I’ll keep him.” He looked up at their mother. “I can take care of a rat, Mum. And look at him. He doesn’t look like he can take care of himself.”
She eyed the older brother, who looked maybe around eight years old to the twins’ three, and shook her head. “All right, Charlie, just make sure you take care of it,” she said, glancing pointedly down at the twins at her feet.
“Of course, Mum.” He went over to the cabinets, still holding a somewhat comatose Peter in one hand, and rummaged around for something for him to eat.
The twins, meanwhile, were loudly protesting to their mother that they had caught it, so why did Charlie get to keep it, it just wasn’t fair, it was theirs”
“That’s quite enough, you two,” she said severely. “You are three years old; you cannot take care of a pet. Now shoo! I have cooking to do.” They reluctantly withdrew from her but did not leave the kitchen.
A pet. He was a pet now. He could hear James and Sirius laughing at him from the past. Oh, the things they would say if they knew he had become someone’s pet. Well, perhaps they would be different, now. They wouldn’t be teasing him anymore. Peter could get away anytime he wanted to and knew it, but to be a pet in a wizarding household.... He could just stay here. None of them suspected he was anything but a rat, and the most threatening things evident in this household were those twins, eyeing him longingly behind their mother’s back. Maybe this could work.