Peter's Tale

It’s a well known fact in the wizarding world that when one becomes an animagus, the animal chooses the wizard; it is a symbolic calling and a representation of oneself and his character. Sirius was epitomized as Padfoot, an intimidating presence who could loom like a threatening protective guardian, yet he was equally a constant, loyal companion. There is a Muggle adage that states the dog has fifty-two attributes: half holy, half vile. That is Sirius Black all over.

James was an amazing sight to behold and not just in stature but striking in physicality as well. His gleaming white coat and long lean muscles could make you loose your breath. He was noble in his humanity and this was reflected throughout in his magnificance as a beast.

I often wonder what animal Remus would have become had there been a choice to be made. Certainly not a wolf. There was a vicious, ravenous nature about Moony–––neither a quality Remus possessed. No matter, he would not have been a rat. That role in life was reserved for me.

True, my small size allowed me agility and dexterity that the others were lacking, a trait that made me just as essential to the group as everyone else. But for once–––for one damn time––– I wanted to be the magnificent one. The stag––the grim––something else, anything else. But, I couldn’t be; my magical abilities put me about one level above Argus Filch. I’m a shave above a squib. That is the story of my life: getting by by the skin of my teeth.

It wasn’t until late in the seventh year that I started to become envious of someone other than my three commarades––someone who always got what he wanted and was a formidable foil to James, Remus, Sirius and myself during our years at Hogwarts; a magnificent presence in his own right: Lucius Malfoy. This shift of thinking was my gateway into the dark abyss, the threshold of the great decent.

I watched as Severus leaned in near Malfoy one Friday afternoon during a potions lesson. A snide grin played on the latter’s lips replacing the dour, stoic expression that usually resided there as his eternal mask. Had I not anticipated it, the lightening quick glance Lucius coldly shot across the room to Sirius and Remus’ table would surely have been missed. Snape backed away from his whisper and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, visibly stifling a laugh. Lucius just stared ahead maliciously. Even though they were near the top–––if not at it–––in every class, Sirius and Remus were no match for the Slytherins’ abilities in potions–––especially Snape’s and Malfoy’s. That Friday, James was excused early for quidditch practice.

Remus was desperately thumbing through his notes while Sirius emphatically shouted ingredients at his partner. Remus was shaking his head to each suggestion. They were sitting ducks and I knew it. I mindlessly stirred my cauldron contents as I shifted my gaze between Sirius and Remus and Snape and Malfoy. I had plenty of time to catch their attention––to prevent what was about to happen as I had done a dozen times this year alone––but I didn’t. Instead, I stepped into the role of the dark voyeur and watched as Lucius calmly walked past Remus’ table and in a one-handed swift motion, switched the dovestail for an indistinct white power that closely resembled it. He completed his task so smoothly, and the other two were so deeply engrossed in their conversation, that no one noticed. No one but me.

“Excuse me Paul,” I said to my partner before I headed over to my friends’ table.

“Psst...Remus.” He shot me a frustrated look, I could tell he was nearly loosing it.

“What.” His tone was harsh.

“The final ingredient is dovestail,” I said flatly as I forced a helpful smile.

“Oh,” Remus replied and cast his eyes downward.

“I told you that three times!” Sirius whispered emphatically and held up three of his long fingers.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think that was right. How I loathe potions.” He gently turned to face me and said, “Thank you, Peter.”

I felt a pang of guilt for they were like lambs walking blindly to the slaughter. However, they had fun at my expense, plenty of times. It was all part of the game, only this time, I was just playing on the other team.

Out of the corner of my eye, I observed Remus tip the vial of white powder that he thought was dovestail into the broth as Sirius vigorously stirred trying to make up for time lost.

“All right. Now, let your potion sit for nine minutes. Then drink three mililitres of it and if you’ve done it correctly, each of you should be experience 10 minutes of permeability. I’ve enchanted the floor so you won’t fall through,” Professor Donnis announced. Malfoy flashed an arrogant grin that barely exposed his large, pearly white teeth; Snape laughed quietly behind him.

My hands trembled as the nine minutes ticked slowly by. Once Professor Donnis gave the signal, in unison the class downed their concoctions and one by one became transparent. Amused with their achievement, some pairs were reaching through each other, their benches, or whatever was nearby. Even I took on the appearance of Nearly Headless Nick. Everyone slowly transformed into a ghost-like apparition. Everyone but Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

“Peter! Peter! It worked!” Paul joyously cried. He attempted to hug me but fell right through. I ignored his embarrassing gesture. No one was looking in our direction anyway. By now, all eyes were on Sirius and Remus who stood, quite solidly, in the center of the room. Sirius was looking down at his hands fixedly, turning them over and over waiting for something unusual to occur.

“What they hell did you do?” Sirius’ voice cracked he screamed so loudly.

“Me? What do you mean what did I do? Can’t you do one bloody thing for yourself?” Remus shouted back.

“How dare you? I can’t believe you’d say that to me. After all we’ve done for you! You were the one who screwed up the damn potion, Lupin, not me.”

They were infuriated with each other. Professor Donnis stood aghast, just frozen among all our transparent figures, gawking, jaw dropped like the rest of us. I could see Sirius clenching and unclenching his fists in fury.

“You are unreal. If you weren’t always chasing after one girl or another, always trying to impress someone–––show everyone how great you are, instead of the foolish git you most certainly can be...maybe you wouldn’t have to depend on others to screw up your work for you,” Remus countered.

Although transfixed as the play unfolded, I turned away to watch its directors: Lucius and Severus. They stood among the throngs of students, many of whom were now regaining their normal form. Lucius grinned a crooked, cocky smile that oozed malevolence. His chin was held high in the air and to his right Snape composed himself in a similar fashion. I was captivated by their silent notation of triumph when I heard something come out Sirius’ mouth that jarred my attention and snapped my head back to the main attraction.

“Dog.”

Lupin’s eyes went cold and anger flashed across them. He moved his lank frame in closer to Sirius’ and leaned in, his jaw tight with his lips in a sneer revealing his startling white teeth. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows allowing me to clearly see his right hand settle on his wand. Sirius was doing the same. Just then, I heard something strange and guttural: Remus was letting out a low growl. His grip tightened on his wand but Sirius had already drawn his own and was lifting it shoulder level. Finally Professor Donnis stepped between them. I saw Snape turn his head away from the fight and mumble something to Narcissa Black who was standing behind him.

Professor Donnis was trying to calm Remus and Sirius in the center of the room as my gaze fell to Lucius while he walked away, his long black robe fanning out behind him in a smooth, rich, ripple. Placing his hand over his pale white chin, Severus lingered just a moment to drink in the scene then stalked out behind him.

I, for my own perverse reasons, longed to follow them. Instead I rushed to the center of the room and grabbed Sirius from behind for he was now lunging at Remus. Professor Donnis did her part and physically dragged Remus from the room.

“Sirius,” I began.

“Not now, Peter. Please!” He easily shook me off before storming out. Many of the students were gathering themselves into small groups and rampidly gossiping about what had transpired. Books were being shoved into bags in anticipation that class would soon be dismissed. Professor Donnis did not disappoint. Shortly after she re-entered the room and told us all that potions was over, noting that we should leave as quietly as possible since classes were still in session throughout the school. As I headed for the door, I felt a hand tightly grip my forearm and pull me out of the threshold.

“Peter, I’d like to make a request of you.” Professor Donnis prompted. She was a rather shy, small woman and it was clear to me that asking for my assistance was a psychologically painful experience. “Would you be so kind as to keep Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin apart? I think they may need some distance from each other. You are one of their roomates, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Remus and I share a room,” I replied.

“Okay, good. Well, I don’t really know the inner dynamics of your little group but if there is a problem, maybe you could try to help them resolve it. Do you think you could do that?” She was speaking to me as though I were a child. She always spoke to me in that tone and I hated it. It was always “Mr. Auclair” and “Mr. Black” but never was it Mr. Pettigrew. It was as though I was some little delicate cherub. I wanted to tell her that she was a condecending flake. In fact, I wanted to scream it...but I didn’t. I nodded my head, silently assuring her that I would do my part to mend broken ties and was met with a tight-lipped smile that said that’s a good little boy. I shuffled out of the room, bitter and angry, partially at her but mostly at myself for saying nothing in return.

I turned the corner and saw Remus slouched down on the ground with his legs bent and arms crossed and resting on his knee caps. His head was hung low and his black robe encircled him protectively. It appeared to me that he was trembling, he was so afraid of losing control. A wave of guilt rushed through my blood like fire. I felt a knot pitting itself deep in my stomache, a pain gnawing away at my gut. I walked over to him and stopped in front, extending my hand downward to help him up.

“Go away.” He said without looking up.

“It’s me,” I stated, believing he thought I was Sirius.

“I know. Go away Peter.” Guess not. The guilt washed away as quickly as it had borne and I immediately backed off. As I headed towards the Gryffindor common room, I saw Snape approaching. His arm brushed against mine as he walked past, but he did not acknowledge my presence with even the slightest glance. With a deteremined gait, he headed straight over to Remus and crouched down on the floor next to him, resting his weight on his heels. I had to strain my ears to catch his words, but was close enough to be privy to the conversation.

“Sickle for your thoughts, Lupin?” I saw him retrieve a silver coin from a small black bag that hung loosely from a belt at his waist. He placed it on the floor and pushed it with his index finger closer to Remus’ left shoe. Remus’ head remained lowered and despite the potion that was undoubtedly still coursing through his veins, he did not respond except to look upwardly at his adresser. A light snort escaped Snape’s lips as he slowly rose. He hesitated momentarily and drew in a deep breath. His lean, darkly cloaked frame bent down at the waist, his head held over Remus’ own. He paused and then said with an officious smirk, “Poor Lupin. Looking quite tired...up all night baying at the moon?” Remus’ head shot up violently and he quickly jumped to his feet and went after Snape who had now run down the corridor. I watched as Remus’ robe fanned out behind him, fluttering in the gust created by the power of his legs. I should have followed. I almost wanted to, but thought better of it. I had done my part to make ammends and was rejected.

Thoughts of guilt and intrigue randomly pervaded my mind as I headed back towards Gryffindor tower. I steered myself up an additional flight and took the stairs that lead to James’ room hoping to avoid Remus’ foul mood that surely awaited me in my own quarters. I heard muffled voices behind the thick oak door that absorbed my knocking. After several attempts met with no response, I slowly opened it and found James and Sirius in dueling position on the other side.

“You selfish, rotten, git,” James announced.

“Guys.” I tried to break the hatred to little avail.

“Stay out of this Peter,” Sirius commanded, his stare not leaving his opposition. I swallowed down another wave of nausea.

“I am hardly the selfish one. You get all the breaks. Always leaving class early for sodding quidditch practice. I could have flown for the team, too. I’m far good enough, only I value my academics more than that.” He spit as he spoke the venomous words.

“You value your legs,” James retorted, rather nastily himself. I felt myself recoil as Sirius threw his wand on the nearby bed and leapt at James, knocking them both backward and on the floor. Sirius looked murderous as he punched James hard in the jaw. I dropped to my knees near their brawling and pulled Sirius off with all the strength I could muster.

“I’ve had it with you! I am sick and tired of you needing my undivided attention. Grow up, Sirius, and get a life of your own.” Both of them froze and so did I. I had no idea what to say. Sirius had an excuse and there was little doubt in my mind that it was he who had initially started the argument, but James was keeping up his half rather well. After some quick mental callastetics, I decided to diffuse the tension.

“Listen, I was evesdropping on a conversation Snape and Malfoy; they were gloating over what they did to you and Remus.” Two sets of eyes now stared in my direction, the light of the setting sun glinting off James’ round frames. “He switched one of your ingredients in the potion with some kind of rage instigator or something, and sat back and watched you go at it. They were laughing about it and making other snide remarks and Snape deliberately set Remus off downstairs. I sure hope he can run.” I forced a smile as I assumed my usual complacent and helpful demeanor.

“What are you talking about?” James inquired. Sirius sat back on his heels and covered his face with his hands as I reiterated the day’s earlier events. I know they were infuriated as I told them each detail, changing a few things of course.

Sirius finally rose and started to shake as he grabbed a few belongings. “I’ve gotta get outta here.” He was stuffing clothes into his pillowcase and gathering up a few sheets and blankets.

“Where are you going?” James asked. Neither gave any indication that I was still in their wake.

“The shack. Don’t tell anyone but I’ll be there until this wears off. Malfoy’s really gonna get it for this one.” I felt his shoulder hit mine as he squeezed between me and the doorframe to leave the room.

James watched him go, a mixture of pity and anger behind his glasses lingering cooly in his hazel eyes. He turned to me, still sitting on the floor and said, “Better you stay here tonight if Remus is half as crazy as that.” He nodded his chin in the direction of the door.

“Okay.” Was all I could muster. I followed in Sirius’ suit and exited James’ room shutting the heavy door silently behind me. Before I started off back downstairs a pathetic realization crossed my mind. Everyone I knew was the best at something. James had a flying talent that even our professor would envy. Sirius was out of anyone’s league in transfiguration, and an encyclopedia of dark arts doesn’t hold a candle to Remus' knowledge on the subject. Even Snape, lowly a creature as he could be, was an authority on potions, even if it was only reluctantly so. I was the best at nothing. I knew at that moment that I could no longer be the eternal question mark, the wizard who barely got by no matter what he tried his hands at. Taking a poll would yeild similar results among our class, doubtlessly; Sirius, he’s wild and handsome, James, athletic and popular, Remus clever, even cunning at times, and me...I’m me. My life is a banal and predictible slate upon which the recipe for disaster is written.

I detoured my path from gathering sleeping necessities in my quarters and headed back down to the Hogwarts’ main hall, desiring a bit of solitude. It was then when I came upon an interesting sight. Lucius was standing over Narcissa, her back pressed against the wall and arms protectively crossed over her chest. His left hand was flat against the slab on which she leaned and he was bent inwardly reciting something to her. He wore a malicious smirk and she a disgusted facade, her eyes evading his own. He was intent on continuing the conversation, however, for he was looking directly at her as he spoke. Most of his comments were met with a roll of the eyes, an action that intrigued me enough to try and eavesdrop on their conversation. I tucked myself behind the nearby corner in order to go about undected.

“I consider that a threat and I don’t take kindly to to threats.” He pronounced each word deliberately and accented all the right syllables. Only Lucius Malfoy would have the bravado to speak to the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts like that. Sure, she looked as though there was dung under her nose, but she was stunning nonetheless. Despite his inward dislike even James threw an occasional glance in her direction.

With my peripheral vision, I saw Lucius bend his elbow bringing his frame closer in towards his companion as he hissed, “I wouldn’t get all that friendly if I were you. Enemies should always be kept close but don’t ever forget why they are your enemy.” Lifting Narcissa’s chin with his index finger, Lucius looked at her disappointedly as he pulled back. “Really, you don’t play the game half as well as I’d have thought. Too bad. You would have been a worthy ally.” She quickly turned on her heel and stalked off furiously, her long blonde hair whipping out behind her. Lucius crossed his arms and stared at her through his narrowed eyes while she walked away, his jaw was tightly pressed together.

I turned the corner and into his line of vision, yet, he still did not acknowledge he had seen me. When I cleared my throat I noticed he flinched before slowly turning around and facing me. He said nothing.

“I...” I began. “I really though that was, you know, funny.” A wave of fury tore through his menacing blue eyes forcing me to quickly clarify that I didn’t find Narcissa’s rejection laughable. “In class you know. Potions?”

“What precisely did you find humorous?” His tone was ascetic making me stammer further.

“You know. The cauldron thing. The the powder that you switched. It was rather...clever?” He finally lowered his eyes so that he was looking at me, however bitterly as it was.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing! Really, I just, you know, appreciated the trick, that’s all. It was funny. They’re always getting you and Snape––” I cut myself short when I saw a flame of anger once again harbor in his eyes.

“You are nothing but a little, worthless Mudblood. Go scamper off and entertain yourself elsewhere. I don’t have the time or the patience for your false praise. I don’t expect you to be listening in on my conversations from this point on, and please, don’t feel the need to participate in my holy wars.” He dismissed me with a flick of his hand and I, ashamed, turned away and headed off in the direction from which I came.

“Pettigrew.” He called after me. I stopped in my tracts and turned to face him. “There is only one thing worse than a coward.” He paused and lifted his chin proudly, the same coy grin he displayed towards Narcissa reappeared across his face before he continued. “And that’s a little boy who’s no more than a tag-a-long. I don’t want the assistance of one who vacillates as easily as yourself.” He sharply turned away from me and strode down the corridor in the direction of the Slytherin commonroom.

I felt ill as nausea filled my gut with a fiery heat. He hit each mark correctly: I’ve always been in James, Sirius, and Remus’ shadows, reaping the benefit of their sow, only occasionally contributing with an idea or a suggestion that lined the path for them to proceeded with me following dutifully behind. It scared me how accurate his portrayal was, especially for a man who clearly had never given me a second thought before this afternoon. He was repulsed at the allusion that I had actually aided in his malice, for he knew I was far inferior to his level of magic. His thoughts were so in-tune with my own, it gave me pause.

It was time I made a mark for myself, showed authority, autonomy and distinction. No longer would people mistake me for a Mudblood; they would recognize me for the pure-blooded line from which I decended. It was too late for me to garner a reputation at school as being a force to be reconed with. I was resigned after this day, to find someone who would appreciate my determination to become more than a tag-a-long, more than a mediator, more than a helpful little side-kick. I just needed help finding someone who could assist me in developing my new talents, aid me in furthering my magical abilites. I thought that I would never find that person at Hogwarts but I was quite wrong. Less a year later, Lucius Malfoy would lead me right into the path of the one who could hand me my future on a silver platter: Lord Voldemort.