J.K. Rowling is the creator of Harry Potter and his world, not me. I am just wishing I could be as good.
A/N: Thanks to my beta-reader Night Zephyr.
~ Guilt ~
"Peter, you traitor! How could you betray James and Lily? James was one of your best friends; Lily helped you when you were in trouble! How did you get the damn nerve to kill them? You blasted idiot! You would have suffered in Hogwarts without us. You know that! Somehow, somehow, you forgot that, I guess. You owe us, yet you decide to destroy all of our lives! Wormtail-- God you donít even deserve that nickname we gave you. You are a traitor, a liar and a wimp! Nothing more, everything less. You deserve the miserable life of a servant!" Peter, alias Scabbers, woke up from his nightmare.
Ever since he had heard of Siriusís escape from Azkaban, he had been having recurring nightmares about Halloween, 1981: the day he tore his best friendsí lives apart. In his rat form, Peter sat on Ronís bed in Gryffindor Tower, where he had once stayed with Remus, James and Sirius. Those damn memories. Now they were all gone: his friends and their lives ruined because of him.
And now, thirteen years later, Sirius was on the run from the Ministry, after escaping from Azkaban. Remus, still a werewolf, lived by himself somewhere, but where-- Peter did not know. James was dead, along with Lily. And Peter was a pet rat, a weak, measly rat.
Thatís fitting for me, thought Peter. What have I done? We could have all been so happy. But I had to go and ruin it didnít I? I, Peter Pettigrew, had to do that. God damn it! Why? Why didnít I appreciate them more? Why did I have to join my master and betray my friends? I should be in Azkaban, not Sirius. But no, he is there and I am thought to be dead. What a way to end a perfect friendship. Damn that Sirius, he was right. Blast him! Always the smart one. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard footsteps approach.
"Hey Ron, isnít Professor Lupin the best Defense against the Dark Arts teacher weíve ever had?" A black-haired boy walked into the room, followed by a gangly redhead.
"Yeah, he is really good. But Harry, you call Quirrel and Lockhart teachers? I mean. Quirrel was scared of his own shadow and Lockhart was and is a git. ? What did we learn from them? Not to release pixies? Not to meet up with vampires?" Ron shook his head.
"Youíre right. But still, Lupin is great! I mean, weíve never learned so much in one class," Harry said as he plopped down on his bed.
"I wasnít saying that Lupin was a bad teacher. He is greatÖ I was just saying that we havenít had a decent teacher." Ron pulled out a Chudley Cannons magazine and skimmed the pages.
"All right! Say, doesnít Scabbers look a little sickly to you?" Harry asked.
"No more than usual. He has been sickly since summer. Didnít you see him at the Leaky Cauldron when we met you there?" Ron replied, looking Scabbers over.
"Oh, okay. Just looked a little sickly to me," Harry shrugged his shoulders.
Peter had been listening this conversation and was filled with guilt when he heard Remusís name mentioned. Remus had been extremely kind to him all through Hogwarts. Remus held the most common sense of the four, and was very smart. He was quiet and seldom mentioned his illness. They had become Anigami to keep him company. Peter knew that without Sirius and James, the two best Transfiguration students of the year, he would not have been able to do it. Now Remusís face surfaced in Peterís mind. His soft voice began to speak.
"Peter, how could you have done this? You knew how much we, your former friends, meant to you. You knew that. Donít try to deny it! We helped you so much. Sirius, James and Lily donít deserve what they got. They do not deserve the death and destruction that befell them. I thought you knew better, Peter. You may not be brilliant, but you should have common sense. You should know better than to betray your own friends. And I thought you were honest. I must have been wrong." Remus faded out as he finished the sentence.
Peters shook his rat head and sighed. Even Remus, kind, understanding Remus, was angry with him.
I wonder what James would say, Peter thought, after all, he is the one who I destroyed. And Lily too. No! I didnít do it! I had no choice. I would have diedÖ I-I-I would have been killed. I did it to save myself. Isnít that a noble cause?
As he watched Ron and Harry talk and laugh, Peterís mind drifted back to happier times. Yet somehow, those memories didnít seem real anymore. They seemed like a fantasy, a dream. Their friendship seemed so far away, so unrealistic. Guilty, Peter thought, all this because I am guilty.