Of Mouse And Man

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicholas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realise we need to pass these exams to get into second year . . ."

Ron glared at her and threw the textbook into his bag. Scabbers, obviously in the middle of a nap, protested. Oblivious to the quiet squeaks, Ron slung the bag over his shoulder and walked off.

*********************

The books shifted, and the rat moved to a more comfortable position. The pages of Greatest Wizards of the Modern Era (a long forgotten birthday gift from Percy) flipped open, to a most interesting page . . .

Pettigrew, Peter Wallace: OM^FC (awarded posthumously): August 9, 1960- November 1, 1981.

Peter Pettigrew, a hero of our age, was born on a sweltering day in August 1960. He was his parents' first and only child. The Pettigrews had married several years earlier, but the wizarding world was still shocked by the marriage of Ariane Rabnott to Richard Pettigrew, a nondescript halfblood wizard. Though not skilled with practical magic, Richard Pettigrew performed quite well on his N.E.W.T.s, landing him an administrative job in the Ministry where his management talents were quickly recognised.

How sweet. Father could write legibly and had a decent memory for details, so many were perfectly willing to forget that half the time he couldn't perform a basic spell. What similar incompetents are running the Ministry now? What a pity my Master didn't succeed in wiping out those before his downfall.

Shocked were they? Surprising- mother married a MUDBLOOD and the family objected. Though Grandmother relented somewhat a few years later- Father's salary was necessary to keep up appearances. Not that I objected at the time; at least I had some connection to a proper Pureblood family.

Peter's infancy was spent in the idyllic but isolated setting of Little Poppleton. His father was often gone on Ministry business, so Ariane Pettigrew was responsible for Peter's early upbringing. The two took frequent trips to the Rabnott estate. Possibly due to his maternal grandmother's dislike for Richard Pettigrew, Peter and his father were never close, to the point of losing contact several years prior to that fateful day in November.

Close? I saw the man maybe five times a year. Naïve child that I was, this didn't stop me from idolising him. He was always too busy with paper pushing, or, more likely, too afraid of Grandmother. She, at least, realised what a disgrace to the family he was.

In the summer of 1971, Peter received his letter to Hogwarts. He, following in his parents' footsteps, was Sorted into Gryffindor. This quiet, studious boy spent most o his first year in the background. His closest friend was James Potter.

I was pleased with my Sorting- disgraceful. It was quite a change to be with companions like myself; some teased me mercilessly for my parentage. If Mother had to rebel, couldn't she have done it in a way that didn't affect anyone else? James was one of the few of the old families who accepted me. He was a decent sort, though always seemed to think he owed others something. It never occurred to me that he was trying to help Lupin, instead of bringing his presence to the attention of the School Board. Of course, Dumbledore had known the truth behind the monthly visits. Ah well, Mooney had some good points. Too bad James had to rescue Severus that time. Even so, James had been a good friend. If only he hadn't taken up with that Mudblood . . .

The years at Hogwarts passed uneventfully. James and Peter became inseparable, and their group widened to include Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The foursome soon became known for mischief, attributed to Black's influence. Various teachers remember Pettigrew as a shy child, who surprised them by changing into a witty, talkative young man. Remarkable is the fact that the only teacher to comment negatively on Mr Pettigrew was his head of house, Prof. M. McGonagall, perhaps due to his probable involvement in a now legendary prank during the last week of term 1976. Though not brilliant, he graduated with a respectable number of N.E.W.T.s, liked by all.

If someone had to write my biography, why couldn't they do a little research? I'd think a mention of my kindness in accepting a werewolf deserves a mention. I'm rather certain that Dumbledore knew about us, the unregistered animagi. The others never would have done it without me; I couldn't perform practical magic as well as the others (probably why McGonagall, disliked me- that or my wonderful, awful idea: a.k.a. the only interesting thing ever to happen in Transfiguration) but I did know my way around a library. That's something Padfoot wasn't good at.

Padfoot the fool- I didn't want to do it. He could have claimed torture, that the Fidelius Charm had failed, anything. I could have saved him. James, Prong, on the other hand, he was doomed. It was his own fault; he didn't have the power to withstand HIM, and suffered the consequences. There was nothing I could do. James had openly defied Master. I had no choice but to reveal what I knew- HE saw that I was their Secret Keeper. I had no choice.

Pettigrew was hired by the Ministry in 1978, as a member of the Department of Mysteries. He was notably one of the few officials from this department who were not under the Imperius Curse during He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's height of power. During this dark period, Pettigrew kept to himself, often seeking the solitude of the countryside. He was noticeably nervous during October 1981, possibly due to fear for the Potters. He did not show up for work the morning of the 20^th, and was assumed to have gone into hiding, as his relationship with the Potters put him at risk.

After several months, another servant of the Dark Lord decided I could be useful as a spy. It was that or death. Never did I imagine that James would make me his secret keeper. What could I have done- I have never been strong; anyway, someone else would have betrayed them. I had no choice.

Sometime between then and late afternoon November 1^st, Pettigrew visited the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow, where his worst fears were confirmed. Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts gamekeeper, remembers seeing what could have been Pettigrew leaving the site. Hagrid was quite distracted at the time, made more so by the arrival of Sirius Black. This is presumably the reason for Pettigrew's quick departure, most likely even before he knew that Harry had survived. The events of the next day are well known; a grief-stricken Pettigrew cornered Black, and was blown to smithereens. Black is currently incarcerated in Azkaban. Peter's funeral was attended by many: to remember the last casualty of the fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.