Reflections

Reflections

Peter Pettigrew sat alone in his cold dark cell awaiting his fate. His thoughts turned to the past as he started remembering the better times of his life. He knew what awaited him outside of these walls and it scared him to tears. He’d spent the last few weeks in this cell. Surrounded by dementors and his thoughts. He tried to remember the happy days of his youth, but that only drew the dementors closer to him and left him miserable in the end. While he was on the run, he knew in his heart, that this day would be in his future. Why he continued down the path he had chosen was beyond him. He knew he feared for his life, but was this any better? Maybe he should have let Voldermort finish him off in the early days, in the days before James and Lilly had been killed. His weakness kept him in Voldermort’s clutches until the day he was captured. His head was swirling with the memories he kept hidden in his heart.

It was his first day at Hogwarts and he was ecstatic. He’d waited for this day for years and knew he was ready. Although he’d been a mediocre student, he was thrilled when he received his letter and his parents were prouder of him than they had ever been in his life. He stood at Platform 9 3/4 waiting for the right moment to load his luggage and find a seat. Finally, with his parents getting antsy, he loaded his trunk and found a seat at in the last compartment of the train.
He had always been a shy boy and didn’t have many friends. He believed Hogwarts would be no different and made it a point to keep himself separated from the other students. When he heard loud voices coming from the corridor, it scared him and he could feel himself getting tense and sweating profusely. The two boys whose voices he had heard appeared at the doorway of the compartment. They grinned slyly and asked if they could join him. He could only nod his reply and they sat across from him.
“Hi there. I’m James Potter. This crazy git over here is Sirius Black. We’re first years also,” he said rather quickly.
Peter found himself relaxing and liking these boys instantly.
“I’m Peter Pettigrew. Do either of you have any brothers or sisters here? All I have to go on about Hogwarts is what the texts tell me and what my parents have told me,” he said nervously. He liked these boys, but was always on edge at the prospect of meeting new people.
They looked at each other and laughed. Peter felt self-conscience and blushed.
“Don’t get us wrong, we’re not laughing at you,” Sirius said when he finally got himself together.
“We haven’t even so much as opened our text and our parents were telling us the most horrid things. I doubt they are true, but you never know. We’re kind of hoping to get in trouble to see exactly what the caretaker does. I guess he’s the one that doles out the punishments,” he added with a titter in his voice.
Peter didn’t know what to think of these boys. They were kind enough, but they WANTED to get into trouble? He didn’t understand but chuckled along with them.
They continued talking about the various things they wanted to do when arriving at Hogwarts. James apparently wanted to play quidditch, and Sirius just wanted to see what was so forbidden about the forest surrounding the grounds. As the day wore on, they started talking about their families. Seemed Sirius and James both came from old wizarding money and Peter was embarrassed to say that while his was an old wizarding family, they were not nearly as well off. They didn’t seem to mind this at all and actually made him feel better by buying him something off of the little cart that went around with sweets and small finger foods. They told him to save his gold for something useful and insisted on buying him a snack.
About halfway into their trip to Hogwarts, a scrawny boy appeared at their door for an instant and then left. They all looked at each other and shrugged it off. Moments later the boy reappeared and asked if he could join them. They all nodded, seeing as their mouths were full of chocolate, and he took a seat next to Peter. After swallowing a huge lump of chocolate, James decided to introduce them all to the latest addition to their compartment.
“I’m James, this fool here next to meSiriSirius and him,” he pointed at Peter “that’s Peter.”
They all extended their hands and the new boy shook them all.
“I’m Remus. You all first years also?” he asked. They all nodded as they helped themselves to more chocolate. Sirius offered some to Remus and he took it happily.
During the sorting ceremony, the four of them were placed in Gryffindor and Peter was overjoyed that he would be rooming with his three new friends. They spent their first night like they would spend so many in their future. They talked till the wee hours of the morning then passed out from utter exhaustion.

**

Peter was smiling at the memory of his first meeting with his friends. Each of them brought a little something special to their group, and he had adored them for it. James was athletic type. Always playing quidditch and doing something physical. Sirius brought them humor. He was never one to let anyone go around with a sad face. Remus was the brain and reason of their group. He would make them constantly consider the outcome of their actions and spent most of his spare time studying. Peter had adored and respected each of them for their given talents but always wondered what it was he did for them. He was a terrible with potions and transfiguration. He was fairly good at charms, but he really didn’t know what he BROUGHT to their group. Most of the time he found them protecting or helping him, or he felt he was in their way. They didn’t let on like he was a problem, but it was in his mind all the time.

He paced his cell thinking about the day of his capture. His master, Lord Voldermort, had turned on him, just as he had turned on the Potters. He was bitter and angry at first, but realized that what you do in your past usually catches up to you ten fold. How wrong he had been about Voldermort. After everything he had sacrificed and done for him, it still didn’t matter.

These were the glory days of his return to power. It was known that Peter was his servant and he was feared. Everyone knew of his deceit years before regarding Sirius, and that he was alive and well and helping his master. They crossed the street when they saw him coming towards them. They left the seedy pubs that he would frequent. Even fellow Death Eaters feared him and chose not to associate with him. He had power that he only ever dreamed of when he was younger and he was drunk from it. Although he kept a fairly low profile, he would pop up in small wizarding communities on occasion just to see women herd their children into the house or see men reach for their wands. Once, he even threatened a single mother of a mud blood just to see her scream and beg. Had he known what his fate was, he would have let himself be captured those many years ago when he caused Voldermort to take Lilly and James’ lives.

It was a day much like any other. He and his master were planning on raiding a few mud blood homes and slaughtering them, making sure to leave their signature on the wall. Every time they made one such ‘house call’ Voldermort would burn the image of the dark mark on the front door to let the world know he had come calling.
This particular night, it was a rather large family, with the mother being a muggle, the father a wizard and four children all with magical talent. The task at hand would be easy enough. Gather their wands, usher them into a solitary room, and take their lives. They had done this several times with out incident, but tonight they had trouble.
What they didn’t know is, this man worked for the Ministry and often held a late night card game with several other members in his parlor. The house had appeared dark enough to them from the front, due to the room being occupied being in the back. Peter approached the house, unlocked the door and started up the stairs to where he imagined the children would be sleeping. When he had made it to about half way up the stairs, one of the man’s guests appeared and startled him. He lunged for the man, knocking him down and creating quite the noise. He heard the footsteps of the other men coming from the back of the house and quickly scampered out the door.
Suddenly, it was if unseen hands were holding him in place and as hard as he fought, he couldn’t move. His master appeared before him with an evil grin and slapped him across the face.
“You FOOL!” he gasped. “Those are members of the Ministry in there. They are probably searching for you as we speak. You leave me no choice but to give you your final punishment for your misjudgment and stupidity. Such foolishness! I see one of them now.”
Voldermort reached into the pocket of Peter’s robes and produced his wand.
“You’ll not be needing this where you’re going. I’m incredibly sorry for doing this,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words “but your capture would please them a great deal. Not as much as mine, mind you, but you have been my right hand man for the last several years and I’m sure you’ll fetch them a handsome reward.”
Voldermort turned Peter around in his place and mumbled a few words as he pointed his wand at the first of the men rushing towards them. He was gone the instant after. The man jerked violently then fell to the ground. The other men stopped for only a moment then continued to run towards Peter. Peter, as though glued to the ground, could only stand and watch as his captors surrounded him. As though Voldermort were watching from nearby, the spell he had been under diminished and he could move his arms and legs again, though movement was in slow motion. He tried to transform, but found himself too weak and his head muddled. The men rushed him and had him under their control from that moment forward.

All but two of the men escorted him to Azkaban. He felt much stronger, but still unable to transform, as though his master had drained the very knowledge of how to use the Animagi from his mind. He succumbed to them because he knew he had no choice. They had taken his wand and escorted him out to the small island that contained what would be his home for the rest of his life. Upon his arrival, he saw what seemed to be hundreds of post owls leave carrying, he assumed, the news of Voldermort’s assistant being captured. They took him to a bright, sterile room where they immediately performed the prior incantanto on his wand and it revealed that he had performed many more murders than he knew of. The only thing he could figure is that his master had taken his wand to murder some people with out his knowledge. He didn’t try to argue or protest. He sat, slumped over in defeat. He didn’t try to say it wasn’t him. He didn’t try to say anything. He just let them throw their accusations at him. They finished, hours later, and looked at him with disgust.
“How do you plead?” one of them asked hatefully.
He thought about this question for only a second. His wand did not lie and nor would he at this time.
“I’m guilty of all of these charges,” he said simply and let himself be drug to the cell he currently occupied.