A/N: Spoilers for PoA. Also, the last 2 lines are from p.112 of OoTP. :) Timeline: Set after James and Lily are murdered and after Sirius has been taken to Azkaban so its before the Harry Potter books but like I said, it does have spoilers for PoA.

Hey guys! I don't really like Peter Pettigrew but I decided to write a fic just to show his POV on the deaths of James and Lily,
the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius and the choices he has made.

Please read and review! Enjoy!


A lifetime ago, sleep came easily for a man named Peter Pettigrew.

Not anymore.

These days, he is haunted by images of his dead friends, images of the people he betrayed, images of the people he has killed.






People he had once loved but had betrayed to the Dark Lord.

On some nights, he dreams of James and Lily, dying to protect their son.

On other nights, he dreams of baby Harry, screaming and wailing and crying out for his parents, his father cold and dead downstairs and his mother lifeless at his feet.

Now he lives with those despicable Muggle relatives of his who don't give a care in the world about him.

Sometimes, he dreams of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, his anger and rage on the day he tracked Wormtail down. Then the explosion and watching thirteen people die because of him, watching Padfoot take the blame and being sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit.

Then there are nights where he dreams of Remus, all alone. Three of his best friends are gone, another in Azkaban and the son of his best friend in the hands of people who don't care about him.

Now on full moons he transforms alone, without the company of Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail.

The nightmares always end with him looking at his own bloodstained hands.

On these horrible nights he always wakes up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, sweat dripping from every pore of his body.

He wonders why he has done those things, why he agreed to be You-Know-Who's follower in the first place.

Then he remembers his school days and it all comes rushing back to him.

How he had ever become friends with the Marauders, he could never remember. All he knew was that all three of his friends were popular, well-liked, respected and admired by many.

James Potter, star of the Quidditch team who had half the female population gushing about him and falling down at his feet.

Sirius Black, tall, dark and mysterious, he had the other half of the female population swooning over him.

Remus Lupin, intelligent and kind. Although he wasn't as popular with the ladies as his friends, that didn't mean girls didn't pay any attention to him either.

Then there was Peter Pettigrew. Short, ugly, no talents whatsoever.

Seven years of jealousy and pain, watching his friends grow more and more popular while he stood back and watched them.

The fame never rubbed off on him. He was just Wormtail. Nothing special, nothing unique.

Seven years of being shunned and ignored could damage a person.

He still remembers the night the Dark Lord had seduced him, offered him a place among his Death Eaters.

For the first time in his life, he felt wanted.

For the first time in his life, he could have power.

The Dark Lord had offered him much, power and wealth beyond his heart's desire. He could have everything he wanted and more.

All he had to do was do some things for the Dark Lord.

It didn't matter to him, so long as he got what he wanted.

But what was the price?

Now as he stares at the full moon, he wonders if Remus has transformed already and if he is all alone.


Moony wouldn't be alone had Peter not set certain things into motion.

Because of him, all his friends were gone.

Despite the times they had ignored him and made fun of him, they had still looked after him, had still cared for him.

The power, the wealth he had been promised and had never recieved, was it worth this? The never ending guilt and nightmares and loneliness? The voices that whisper and cackle, calling him traitor and betrayer and coward every single day? The screams and yells of James and Lily and Harry and Sirius and Remus that resound in his head day after day after day?

He doesn't know anymore.

But now, there is nothing he can do.

After all, you don't just hand He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named your resignation.

It's a lifetime of service or death.


There you go! Please review! Thanks:)