Betrayed

A/N: This fic was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition for Round 5, Beater 1, Falmouth Falcons. This round the teams were given surprise 'boxes' and our box was 'Marauders.' Within these, each member had to choose a specific prompt, with mine being: Character: Peter Pettigrew.

Optional prompts:

(colour) dusty-pink

(colour) cherry

Word count: 2877 (word counter and Gdocs)


June 6, 1994

They were all looking at him like he was a stranger. Like he was a criminal or a slug they wanted to squash, but were too disgusted to actually trample him. They had trampled him, though; well, he had anyway.

Looking into familiar, pale green eyes and not recognising the hate that flashed within them, he let out a sob. Why was his best friend staring at him like that? Why wasn't he defending him, telling them that what he had done was alright? That he had done it because he had to?

"Let me at the bastard! I want to tear him a new one!" Sirius roared, lunging towards him.

Peter scuttled backwards, letting out a squeak as his back hit the dusty-pink wall. His heart rammed against his chest as he watched Sirius' hand claw at him. His face was red, stormy grey eyes glaring at him.

Peter began to tremble, certain that the man would kill him. Unfortunately, there was no way out of the tiny room; James' son and his friends were blocking the door, and Sirius would never let him leave.

He didn't want to die. Not now; not after everything he'd sacrificed to stay alive. Burying his face in his hands and squeezing his eyes shut, he waited for the moment Sirius would reach him and it would all be over.

"Don't! You're not a murderer, Sirius," Remus hissed.

Glancing up, Peter saw that Remus held Sirius by the arms, pulling him back. Remus' green eyes were focused on the man, yet Peter's heart rose. Perhaps Remus remembered after all? Perhaps he knew that Peter had only done what he had been told to; that he had saved himself, just like he had promised to do.

Crawling forward, his knees scraping against the floorboards, he smiled up at his friend. "Thank you, Remus! Oh, thank you! I knew you would understand! I knew it!" he said, dodging Sirius' hands and reaching out his own to grab at Remus' robes.

Sniffling, he stared up into Remus' face, eyes shining.

Remus looked back at him, eyes widening. Then, stepping away from Peter, he shook his legs, trying to loosen Peter's grip on him. Holding onto the thick material, Peter stared up, tears welling in his eyes.

"Get off me, Peter!"

"But, Remus… I only did what you said..."

His friend kicked again, this time not bothering whether or not he hit Peter in the process. Peter let go and fell to the floor with a thud, his chin quivering. His heart gave a painful twinge this time, as though Remus had kicked it instead of his elbows.

"I never told you to murder our friends," he said.

"But, but…" Peter gulped back the tears, shaking his head as he tried to make Remus understand. "But I kept my promise! I did what I had to… I ran from danger! C'mon, Remus, don't you remember?"

"You're pathetic," Harry said.

Peter locked his gaze onto Remus', begging him to remember, even as the latter stepped back from him, eyes wide. Peter didn't care if he was slobbering all over the place, or if he looked desperate; they could see him how they wanted to. It was more important that Remus knew why he had done it. He needed him to remember, to tell him that he knew Peter wasn't bad.

Peter stayed where he was, only vaguely aware that Sirius was still trying to claw out his face and that Harry's wand was trained on his throat. His throat felt constricted, as though he was being slowly strangled, and it was difficult to see clearly through his watery eyes. Why wasn't Remus listening to him? How could his best friend not understand? He didn't deserve this; he had simply kept his promise and had run from danger.


October 29, 1974

"Hurry up, Peter, stop dragging the chain."

Peter rolled his eyes as Sirius hurried him along, watching as the boy jogged up to James. Sirius hadn't berated Remus for being slow, yet he was trailing behind all of them, arms wrapped around himself and eyes darting around. It wasn't like he wanted to be there either; on a breezy, autumn night like this, he would have much preferred to stay tucked up in his warm bed. He had curled up in his cherry-red sheets, refusing to move as Sirius tried to tug him out of bed. It was only when Sirius had shrugged and said, "suit yourself, mate," that he scrambled up and ran out after him. There was no way he was going to miss out on their fun.

So here he was, trudging across the dark grounds with only the pale beam of the moon to guide their way. The shriek of a lone owl returning from its hunting trip split the silent air, causing goose bumps to break out on Peter's arms. He almost dropped the bucket of slugs he was carrying, holding it up just in time. He wouldn't act like a 'wuss' in front of the boys, not again.

"C'mon, guys, almost there! I can't wait to see the look on their faces tomorrow morning," James called over his shoulder with a laugh, before turning around and covering the remaining steps to the pumpkin patch.

"This'll be good!" Sirius said, pushing past James. "Quickly, Peter, bring those slugs!"

"Yes, your highness," Peter mumbled under his breath. Still, he obeyed, hurrying along and allowing Sirius to snatch the bucket from him. At least Sirius trusted him enough to bring the key ingredient to their prank.

"Alright, James, do you want to do the honours, or shall I?" Sirius asked, holding out the bucket.

"Why, good sir, I'd be honoured," James replied, giving a mock bow.

Taking the bucket, he proceeded to set up their prank. The boys had the brilliant idea that if they put the slugs along the fence and stuck them there, come morning, the fifth year Slytherins who had Care of Magical Creatures first period would find a nasty surprise when they leant against it.

Peter rolled his eyes again, waiting for the exciting part of the prank. Really, what exactly was he missing out on? It wasn't like he was going to get to hear the girls' screams or boys' looks of disgust tomorrow. Was there another part of the plan he hadn't been told about?

"Not very amusing, is it?" Remus asked, sidling up to Peter.

He jumped, the heat rising to his cheeks as he realised Remus had caught him looking bored. He didn't want the boys to think that he didn't want to be a part of their group; Sirius might kick him out if he thought he wasn't having fun with them—if he didn't act as cool as they did.

"Relax. It's pretty dumb and unoriginal," Remus said.

Peter smiled at his friend. Most times it seemed that he was the only one with some sense about him, even if he sort of came off as too serious at times. Peter marvelled at the way he was able to stick up to James and Sirius when necessary, and only hoped that sort of courage would rub off on him someday.

His smile faltered, however, when Remus grunted, clutching his chest. His pale green eyes looked up at the moon before he squeezed them shut, body shuddering.

"Uh, are you alright?" Peter asked, unsure what to do.

James and Sirius were too busy arguing about what type of sticking charm to use, and whether or not to conceal the slugs, to see that their friend was in pain. Gits. He looked up at the sky and saw the moon peeking out from behind the scattered clouds. His throat grew tighter and heart began beating as he looked back to Remus, the boy's eyes still squeezed, chest rising up and down. It wasn't a full moon tonight; they still had two days left. At least, he hoped so.

"Remus, you're not...you're not transforming, are you?" he asked, glancing towards the others hoping that they would finally notice. "Guys?"

Remus gasped, throwing his neck back. His chest rose and fell, knees wobbling. Finally, after gulping in the air, he clutched Peter's shoulder, steadying himself. "I'm...fine," he panted.

"Are you sure—"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." Opening his eyes and revealing dilated pupils, Remus gave him a tight smile.

Peter let out a sigh and worked on his own breathing, willing it to calm down. No, of course Remus wasn't transforming, he knew that. Ever since he had discovered that his friend was a Werewolf, Peter had made sure to read all he could about the creatures. Though some of the words in the tomes he opened were somewhat difficult to understand, the topic was so fascinating, and he actually found studying quite enjoyable. Thus, he now knew what to look out for, and berated himself for being so stupid and panicky.

"Ha, well, do you wanna go back?" he asked, hoping the answer would be yes.

Remus tilted his head to the moon again before shaking his head. "No, someone's got to make sure these dunderheads don't hurt themselves, right?" he said, the smile growing wider.

Peter nodded his head, returning the smile.

"Oi, if you two have finished yapping, can you tell us what you think?" Sirius asked, swivelling around to face them with a particularly disgusting, brown slug in his hand.

Peter stared at his feet, lifting his shoulders. "Erm, maybe we could—"

"Remus?"

Peter glanced back up, annoyed that Sirius had cut him off. Why ask for his opinion if he didn't want it? Sure, he wasn't the brightest goblet in the Great Hall, but it didn't mean he couldn't have some ideas. Seeing that Sirius' mouth hung agape, however, he turned to Remus.

His friend was clutching his stomach once more and had fallen to his knees. Peter could see the veins throbbing on his neck and temple, and when Remus turned to him, he could see flecks of gold mixed in with the green of his eyes.

"Remus? Remus, buddy, are you alright?" James asked. Leaning down towards the boy, he tried to rub his shoulders. Remus' fingers dug into the grass, tearing through it. Then, without warning, he pushed James back.

"Leave."

"Remus, c'mon, it'll be alright. It's not time yet—"

"Leave!" Gasping for air, his entire body trembling, Remus turned dilated eyes to James. "Please."

James stared into the boy's eyes before he scrambled up, backing away. Peter saw him share a look with Sirius who, too, looked torn between wanting to help his friend up and knowing he had to run.

A rumbling growl emanating from Remus' throat, however, had Sirius making up his mind. With a last look at Remus, Sirius grabbed James and pulled him along, running back towards the castle. Peter made to follow, but looking at Remus and seeing the pain etched on his face, he found his legs refused to move.

"Peter! Come on, run!" Sirius called.

Peter nodded, unable to tear his eyes off Remus' face. Part of him didn't want to leave his friend in such agony, yet a larger, more shameful part of him wanted to see what the transformation would be like. Would his friend sprout fine, brown fur so similar to his hair? Would he be tall, or be the size of a cub? In the books he read, Werewolves tended to grow an inch in size for every six months a human lived, peaking only when they reached about twenty-eight years old.

"Peter!"

Peter took a step forward, watching Remus as he curled up into a tight ball. His body trembled, and though he was about to turn into some monster, Peter couldn't help but think his friend was vulnerable. He looked… scared, like a small boy needing his mother. Peter knew the feeling all too well and took another step forward.

"Remus?"

His friend whimpered, burying his head in his knees. Peter swallowed, heart rate speeding up once more. Had Remus time to get into the path beneath the Whomping Willow? No, probably not, the tree was about twenty meters away, and Peter couldn't possibly move him there by himself. The boy shuddered, another muffled whimper coming from his body.

"Peter! Get over here, you idiot! I thought you'd have at least more brains than this," Sirius called.

Peter shook his head, tiptoeing closer and closer until there was no distance between Remus and himself. His palms were sweaty and his throat was constricted, yet the danger of the situation made it all the more exciting to wait and watch.

A low growl emanated from Remus, his body trembling uncontrollably. He couldn't see any fur sprouting from Remus' face, though his skin looked more sallow.

"Remus?"

"Ahhhh…"

Peter leapt back, stumbling to the ground as Remus let out a gasp of pain. He crawled backwards, eyes bugging out of his head. He could hear James and Sirius in the distance, shouting for him to run, yet he couldn't move.

He watched as Remus' body shuddered once more, the trembling subsiding. Then, slowly, Remus unfolded himself and groaned. It took a moment for him to turn around, and even longer to sit up.

"So… you're not transforming, then?" Peter asked.

Remus coughed, gripping the ground for support, before looking at him. His green eyes watered, staring into his own brown ones.

"You id—idiot! Why didn't you run?" he asked, voice strained.

Peter blinked, a wide smile spreading across his face. When Remus was the one who called him an idiot, it was alright. "Well, duh, I wanted to stay with you."

"Peter… You know how dangerous that is. You could have been kil—I could've kille—ugh, how could you do that?"

The smile slipped off his face as he glared at Remus. Was he calling him a wuss? "I wasn't scared."

"You should have been!"

"But I wasn't! You wouldn't hurt me, wolf or not. Besides, I wanted to see what it was like."

"Peter…" Remus sighed, his face softening. "You need to run when in danger."

"But I'm not a cowa—"

"I know. Please. Please just promise me that if you're ever in danger, you will run. Don't stay, don't fight, don't try to be the hero, just run."

"But…" Peter searched Remus' eyes, seeing the pain swimming through them. They were different to the mocking grey of Sirius' eyes; Remus wasn't laughing or scoffing at him.

"Peter…"

"Oh, alright. If I'm in danger, I'll run, ok?"

"Promise me."

"Fine, I promise I will run if I'm ever in a dangerous situation and keep myself safe." Sighing, Peter spat into his hand and thrust it out to Remus.

The boy grimaced as he looked at it, but copied Peter's actions, spitting into his own hand and shaking Peter's. "Good."

"Now, do I get to see some more Werewolf stuff?" Peter asked, grinning.


June 6, 1994

"You're a coward!"

Coward. The word Remus spat spun through his mind, again and again, refusing to leave. His best friend and the only one in their group who thought him brave—even if stupidly so—had called him a coward.

His eyes stung with fresh tears, his body growing numb. It was worse than the suggestions of receiving the Dementor's kiss Harry and his friends discussed as they dragged him out of the shack and through the opening of the Whomping Willow.

Pale moonlight shone on the grounds and Peter's heart squeezed painfully at the memory of twenty-two years ago. Perhaps Remus would remember the promise now that they were outside?

"Right, you alarm Dumbledore, I'll check on Ronald's leg and—"

"Moony?"

Peter was shaken out of his thoughts as Sirius' grip on his forearm disappeared. He had forgotten about the way the man's nails had dug into his flesh, attempting to tear apart his skin despite Harry's call for mercy. Now, the pain came back threefold, and he became all too aware of his dire situation.

"Harry!" the bushy-haired girl squealed as she pointed at something, allowing Peter to shake her and Harry off.

Backing towards the Whomping Willow, he saw that they were staring at Remus.

Peter followed their gaze, looking at his friend. Remus' eyes were dilated and fine, grey hairs were sprouting across his face and elongated hands. Sirius swore and transformed into a large, black mutt, bounding into the man as he became a Werewolf.

It was just what he needed. Backing further away, he grabbed the girl's wand, pointing it at his nose. Harry had spun around, too late, as the world grew dark around Peter. Wasting no time, he scurried out of his clothes, heart pounding as he ran through the sharp grass.

As a howl sounded through the air, he paused and turned around. His heart squeezed again, the tightest it had yet. Remus had forgotten his promise; he, like all the others, had let him down and was now more beast than man.

Well, he would show Remus that at least one of them could keep a promise. Turning away, tears dripping onto his whiskers, he did what he had to do and ran from danger once more.


Additional A/N: This fic is an answer of sorts to Betrayed by a Brother, written last season for the QLFC. By no means do you need to read it to understand this, but with all the trouble little rat face has given me, this is the only way I feel I can portray Peter (without killing him off or feeding him to poor Crookshanks). Peter Pettigrew is the one character I don't think I could ever sympathise with, even if he was bullied/told he was never good enough his entire life, I cannot say it is an excuse to betray your friends. In my mind, if he has any redemption, it is because he shares some traits with Autism, whereby he takes things literally and genuinely believes Remus meant for him to save himself no matter the consequence. By no means do I believe people with Autism are bad people, it is simply my own head canon explanation for how people could have misunderstood Peter :) And no, Remus and Peter are not in a romantic relationship; close friends can care about each other just as much.

A humungous thank you to my lovely teammates for all their beta work! Werewolf has been capitalised using the Potter Wiki and HP book version, though I had to look it up which one to use. If anyone sees any errors, please do not be afraid to point them out so I can fix this before officially posting :)

This fic was also written for the Fairytales Challenge on the Diagon Alley II forum. Classic fairy tale: Red Riding Hood—Write about bravery.

Dedicated to Malhearst, who adores Peter, as part of my big surprise to my team members. Mal, I am proud of you for your Daily Prophet win, and more so for all the effort you put into each round! Xx