Sad But True

Peter sat curled up in the corner of the dark room. What had he done? He had killed his best friends. He had sold himself to The Dark Lord. What was he now? He was a rat. A rat too weak to run his own life. For the first time, he was reconsidering his choice in actions. What could he do? Nothing. He was in too deep. Peter heard the icy cold and sinister voice of his master in the back of his mind.

Hey, I'm your life,

He was Peter's master. He was Peter's worst fear. He was Peter's savior. He was Peter's reason for living.

I'm the one who takes you there.

He had always lived in the shadows. He had always been the follower. The little boy that was behind his friends. The Dark Lord offered him more. He felt needed. He was needed. Or, perhaps, he was just a pawn in a grand scheme. He didn't know.

Hey, I'm your life, I'm the one who cares.

Peter recalled a memory that he had long ago buried in his past. Just before he had sold himself as a spy, he remembered the four of them sitting in The Three Broomsticks, promising each other that no matter how bad it got they would always be there for each other. That didn't last very long. The Dark Lord was the one who accepted him. His best friends tried to kill him. Did he deserve that?

They, they betray,

Everyone he used to know considered him a traitor. They thought he was loyal to the Dark Lord. Yet, the death eaters thought he was loyal to Dumbledore. Peter was caught in the middle. He couldn't go back. He couldn't go forward.

I'm your only true friend now.

The Dark Lord was his only ally. The Dark Lord was the only one he could trust. In return, he was loyal to his master. There were once days when he'd run around with his "friends" and think he was happy. Was Peter happy then? Was Peter ever happy?

They, they'll betray,

Was there anyone besides The Dark Lord that he could trust? Was there anyone besides The Dark Lord that cared for him? Was there anyone besides The Dark Lord that didn't want to kill him?

I'm forever there.

Many people that Peter used to think were his friends were now gone. James. Lily. Sirius. They said that they'd always be there. They lied. The Dark Lord was always going to be there. The Dark Lord was the future. The Dark Lord would always be. Still, Peter couldn't help wondering, had he made the right decision?

I'm your dream, make you real.

Peter wished that he could be a first year again, no worries, no cares. He wasn't ready to face reality. He didn't think he would ever be ready. It didn't matter if he was ready or not. Peter didn't have a choice. He had to serve his master. The Dark Lord needed him. He needed The Dark Lord.

I'm your eyes when you must steal.

Peter spent nearly twelve years oblivious to everything. He just waited. He waited for The Dark Lord to rise again. He waited for Sirius to do the impossible and escape from Azkaban. He waited for the Weasleys to realize he wasn't a true rat. He waited for the past to catch up with him. He waited for the truth to catch up with him.

I'm your pain when you can't feel.

When James died, Peter didn't grieve. When Lily died, Peter was apathetic. When Sirius died, Peter felt vindicated. Why, then, was he mourning them all?

Sad but true.

Peter wanted to put the past behind him. Peter needed to put the past behind him. Peter couldn't put the past behind him. Peter tried looking to the future. He couldn't see any good coming his way. All Peter could see was The Dark Lord. All he could see was himself forever serving his master.

I'm your dream, mind astray.

He concentrated on his past. He concentrated on his future. He concentrated on his present. A nagging thought attacked them all. What if? What if he hadn't done anything he'd done?

I'm your eyes while you're away.

His master's voice reminded him that the past was the past. Peter's purpose in life was to serve The Dark Lord. Where was his loyalty? Was it in his past? No. Was it in The Dark Lord? Yes. Why? Because he had been a coward. Because he had made a stupid mistake. Because he stuck suffering the consequences of his actions.

I'm your pain while you repay.

Thoughts, memories, and feelings were all mixed up in Peter's mind. Sirius had said that he would've died before betraying his friends. He did. Peter was now cutting off limbs for The Dark Lord. To the people he used to know, Peter was dead. He died for The Dark Lord. He died for The Dark Lord before he died for his friends.

You know it's sad but true.

His whole life was pathetic. It could be summed up it that one word. Or maybe it couldn't. Either way it was pathetic. Peter was the tag-along friend or the lowly servant. He was never brave enough to fight. He was never smart enough to argue. He did what he was told and, when offered a tough decision, took what seemed to be the path of least resistance.

You, you're my mask.

Façades. Deception. Fakeness. Was that what Peter was doomed to resort to the rest of his life? Was he just supposed to stand in front of the Dark Lord and hide him from the public eye? Peter had already faked death once. Would he have to do it again? And this time not come back?

You're my cover, my shelter.

Did Peter want to be the lackey he was? Did he have a choice? No. But, was he actually needed? No. Yes. No. Yes. Maybe. Peter was confused, a feeling he felt often, but not to this extent. Now Peter felt that every lesson he had ever learned just flew out the window.

You, you're my mask.

Peter thought back to two years before. He had seen his old friends. Sirius "Padfoot" Black. Remus "Moony" Lupin. James "Prongs" Potter's son. And they all wanted to kill him. Ironic. Peter remembered when he learned that word. Now he understood it. It was the only thing he understood.

You're the one who's blamed.

He deserved to die. His actions had killed the Potters. His actions had put Sirius in Azkaban. But he was trying to kill Peter. Peter's explosion was the one that killed thirteen innocent muggles. Except, he didn't care about them. Peter wanted his finger. Peter wanted to feel whole again.

Do, do my work.

Peter had to serve the Dark Lord. Peter had felt as though he had handcuffed to a dying tree, a tree that he had to help grow to be big and strong, a tree that would hold him there forever, a tree that would feed on him until he had nothing left to give, a tree that when nourished and strong would dispose of him without even a 'thank you'.

Do my dirty work, scapegoat.

As a student, Peter's friends joked around by blaming him whenever a prank didn't go as planned. He never liked how he was blamed, but his friends made up for it by assuring him that they were joking. They weren't joking anymore.

Do, do my deeds,

Peter looked at his hands. Peter hadn't killed Lily and James with them. Peter was innocent. Peter had killed Cedric, though. Cedric was just a boy. He didn't have to live. Peter looked at his hands again with the word innocent running through his head. No, not innocent, guilty. Peter examined his left hand. The Dark Lord had given Peter that hand. The Dark Lord had killed Lily and James. Did that mean Peter had killed Lily and James?

For you're the one who's shamed.

Peter Pettigrew. That was his name. Well, it used to be his name. Now, it's Wormtail. He was hardly any better then a rat. He acted like a rat. He looked like a rat. He had a rat's name. Could he really be considered human?

I'm your dream, make you real.

Peter curled up into a ball and tried to forget life. He felt in between life and death. He knew he was physically not that bad off and he was somewhat healthy. He hadn't yet gained back the weight he lost when he first heard Sirius had escaped. His mind hadn't ever worked the same way that it had when he was child. Now, there were new thoughts in it. Paranoia. Dependency. It was his dreams, though, his dreams that were his reality.

I'm your eyes when you must steal.

Peter was blind. He could see, but he was blind. He couldn't look to see what was coming next. He couldn't pay attention to the actions and emotions of those that he had hurt with his deeds. He couldn't notice when he was making a bad decision.

I'm your pain when you can't feel.

He owed Harry his life. The realization hit him like a hammer. Was that a good thing? No. He wouldn't be able to follow his master's order. Yet, maybe that was a good thing. Peter needed to get out of this terrible rut he had gotten himself in. More importantly, he needed a reason to live. He needed to save Harry from his master, not just because he was in debt, but to start to repay his friends for betraying them.

Sad but true.

What was he thinking! Sure he owed Harry, but he owed The Dark Lord, too. He owed The Dark Lord for being there for him. Of course, it was The Dark Lord who messed up his life in the first place. This was starting to become a complicated matter. Well, it had always been a complicated matter. Peter was starting to realize that this was a complicated matter.

I'm your dream, mind astray.

Who was Peter loyal to? The Dark Lord. Who was Peter supposed to be loyal to? The Dark Lord. No, Dumbledore. No, The Dark Lord. No, Himself. But, how could Peter be loyal to himself if he didn't really know himself anymore?

I'm your eyes while you're away.

Peter was loyal. He was very loyal. It didn't matter that everyone he ever knew thought that he was a traitor. Peter was loyal. Just not to Dumbledore. The Dark Lord welcomed him back when he "came back from the dead." Dumbledore didn't. Of course, The Dark Lord was the one who got him into this mess in the first place.

I'm your pain while you repay.

Death. It had taken his friends. It had taken everything he held dear to him. It was coming for him. Peter didn't know when. Perhaps The Dark Lord would have no more use for him. Maybe Remus would finish what he and Sirius had started two years earlier. He could die in battle against the Order of the Phoenix. Or maybe he would become a victim of suicide.

You know it's sad but true.

Why did he have to give in to The Dark Lord? What if he had died for his friends instead? What if he hadn't been secret keeper? What if? What if? He would probably be happier now. His friends would most likely be alive now.
Except, that's not what happened. There was no use for him to ask what if. Now he was stuck in what did happen.

I'm your dream.

The Dark Lord was master. The Dark Lord was ruler. The Dark Lord constantly flooded Peter's thoughts. An old saying, what consumes your thoughts controls your life. Peter was living proof.

I'm your eyes.

At one time, all Peter would do was sit there and eat rat food when it was fed to him and keep an ear open for the return of the Dark Lord. He never really thought of anything else during those years. Then Sirius escaped. He was trying so hard to run that he forgot why he was running. Then he met back up with the Death Eaters and his master. That was when he started thinking. The Dark Lord forced him to think. Now was his first chance, though, to not only think about what he wanted but to contemplate and analyze.

I'm your pain.

Peter had cut off a finger and a hand for The Dark Lord. Peter felt as though each time he did something good for his master he was chopping off more of his body. It felt somewhat good to be that loyal, yet it hurt to take off pieces of his body even when it was only in his mind.

You know it's sad but true.

James was dead. Sirius was dead. Remus was as good as dead. He was the last one standing. Before he got his Hogwarts letter, Peter was always told that he must live up to the Pettigrew name. He had always tried. At Hogwarts that changed to living up to his friends. He had tried even harder. Perhaps he surpassed them. Or perhaps he still has a long way to go.

Hate, I'm your hate.

Hatred was a feeling that Peter wasn't used to. He had often used the word hate very lightly. Now, he hated. He hated himself. He hated the world. He hated his so-called friends. He hated Dumbledore. He hated Harry Potter. He hated The Dark Lord. He hated his life. He hated everything.

I'm your hate when you want love.

Acceptance. Something everyone wants whether they admit it or not. Sometimes they hide it really well. Sometimes they change themselves to fit in. Peter was the latter. It used to be that acceptance and love were the same things. His friends taught him the difference. Now Peter was accepted, but he didn't care. What he really wanted was to be loved.

Pay, pay the price.

Cause then effect. Action then consequence. Betray then live in fear. When he was afraid his friends would comfort him. Not anymore. Now, he was afraid. He was afraid all the time. No one would comfort him. And that was his fault.

Pay, for nothing's fair.

When babies are born, they are completely innocent. They don't think any bad thoughts. They don't feel hatred, anger, or greed. His master wanted to kill one. He almost succeeded. It wouldn't have been right if little Harry died. Maybe it was his own innocence that saved him. Maybe he didn't die because he didn't deserve to. If that was the reason, then why was Peter still alive?

Hey, I'm your life.

The Dark Lord wanted control of the world. Peter would've settled for control of his own life.

I'm the one who took you here.

His master made him needed. His master made him wanted. His master gave him a reason to live. His master took away his reason to live. His master made him hated.

Hey, I'm your life.

Peter wanted to make his own decisions. He wanted to be able to make his own choices by weighing his options and considering what was best for himself rather than everyone else. Of course, making decisions was never Peter's strong point.

And I no longer care.

Peter was being taken advantage of. The Dark Lord was using him. First he had been used to get information. Then he had been used for the Dark Lord to regain his body. His master never cared what happened to him. If Peter was to die right then, The Dark Lord wouldn't care.

I'm your dream, make you real.

Peter recalled the one experience he had with dementers. It had been two years before, when he was a rat. The memory had been terrifying. It was when the Dark Lord confronted him and demanded that Peter be his spy. Peter thought that he was afraid of the shrill, cold voice and the beady eyes and the fact that this was most powerful wizard ever. And he was. But maybe what he was more afraid of was the fact that he had just agreed. He didn't struggle at all. He was weaker then he thought.

I'm your eyes when you must steal.

He remembered the incident in the Shrieking Shack. He had wanted to prove to his old friends that he was innocent. Of course Remus was right. Why would an innocent man spend twelve years as a rat? At that time, even Peter was trying to prove to himself that he was innocent. He wasn't innocent. He had been a spy twelve years before and he was still a traitor. He didn't die for his friends twelve years before and he still wouldn't. At the time of the Shrieking Shack meeting the only thing that he had to live for was his master.

I'm your pain when you can't feel.

One more memory seeped into Peter's mind. Sirius and Peter were discussing who was going to be James's secret keeper. By this time, Peter was already a spy. Sirius was saying that The Dark Lord would expect him to be the secret keeper so he shouldn't do it. Peter offered himself like he was supposed to. Sirius was being over-protective and started interrogating him. One question he asked was, would you suffer the Cruciatis Curse instead of betraying James. Peter had immediately said "yes" but he didn't mean it. That moment was when he caused James to die.

Sad but true.

He would always be loyal to his master. Or, would he? Was he loyal? Who was he loyal to? It always came back to loyalty. No, it always came back to friendship and betrayal. No, it always came back to the question, was Peter in charge of his own life?

I'm your truth, telling lies.

Even a year before he was a secret keeper, Peter was a spy. He lied to his best friends that whole year. Then he pretended to die. He lied to the world for twelve years. But what bothered Peter most, was that he was starting to lose sight of what was real. He was lying to himself. Peter didn't know who he was anymore.

I'm your reasoned alibis.

He spent twelve years as a rat. Twelve years as lying vermin. Twelve years being a pet to innocent children. Twelve years hiding from everyone he used to know. Why? Because of The Dark Lord. He wanted to please his master. He wanted to please the person who caused his friends' deaths.

I'm inside, open your eyes.

The Dark Lord had corrupted him. Peter had lied and betrayed. He could never take those actions back. The Dark Lord didn't care that he had ruined Peter's life. And now Peter had to pay. He had to pay by helping The Dark Lord.

I'm you.

Peter was a rat. A rat too weak to run for his own life. The Dark Lord was living through him. He was living through his master. He killed. He would most likely kill more. He was no longer Peter Pettigrew. He was a slave, a puppet, of The Dark Lord.

Sad but true.

Peter's life: sad but true.