In the lower depths of Azkaban, Peter Pettigrew paced the room he'd been relegated to. Malfoy had gone and Vold—You-Know-Who, hadn't bothered with him for several weeks. Peter thought a lot about the past. A lot about Hogwarts and the events which had swept him away from his friends...the Mauraders, his Brothers. Sneezing in the dark room, Peter sat down and began to scratch words into the grime on the floor.
I don't know if I'll ever get to put this down on proper parchment, or even it if matters that I do. You'd be well in your rights to burn it as soon as look at it. I know I'll never be able to atone for what I've done. I had hoped to die some time ago, but it seems I'll yearn for death long before Death finds me. I don't know if you'll ever read this, but I need to put it down, anyway.
I never meant this to happen. I never meant for things to go this far. I should have let you kill me in Harry's third year. I should have killed myself twelve years ago. I should never have been born. A waste of flesh, that's me.
I won't try to waste your time by pinning the blame on someone else. I alone am responsible for my actions and I alone will burn for them. With that in mind, I'd like to try to tell you why.
I guess even back then I was a weak-minded rat. Not so much the physical form, but a rat none-the-less. I remember the first time I saw James. He and Sirius were on the Hogwarts Express, playing Exploding Snap when I walked into their compartment and asked to join them. James welcomed me, and Sirius clapped me on the back and told me to take up a hand. It wasn't long before my eyebrows were gone, but that didn't matter. We were having fun. After we bored of that, I got out some Muggle playing cards and trounced them both at poker.
You didn't come until the next day, after the Sorting. I knew there was something different about you the moment I set eyes on you. I didn't realize you were a werewolf, but I felt something. The next person I saw was Lily.
By the time first year finished up, I loved her. Not in the way James would, not yet, but the beginnings were there. She was always so nice to us, even after James turned her hair pink. Patient and understanding, even if she wasn't very open about herself. Remember when she charmed James' wand to crow on the hour, every hour? Do you remember Professor McGonagall giving him detention for that?
I'm getting off the subject. I'll never forget those days, Remus.
It wasn't long after we arrived that Voldemort started to attack people. I remember when my parents were killed. I remember when the Bones family was killed. Everyone was scared. Me especially. I knew one day Voldemort would kill me, too.
I should have just told you what was going on. I should have trusted my friends to protect me. I didn't. Remember when Sirius told Snape about where you hid during your transformations? Do you remember that? I think I lost faith in Sirius then. It wasn't funny. I guess I lost faith in James too, for different reasons.
It was about that time that Malfoy started making suggestions to me. I don't think you could say we really talked, but he'd make offhand comments about how we were all doomed and that the only way to stay alive would be to join Voldemort. He told me there was no such thing as evil. There was only power and those afraid to seek it.
God help me,Remus, I started to believe him as things got worse. I talked a lot to Rudolphus Lestrange about that. He always seemed to give such good advice, telling me I was brave and strong and that Voldemort wouldn't let anything happen to me. That Rudolphus wouldn't let anything happen to me. I didn't want to die, fool that I was. I was blind to all but the fear in my heart. Blind to my friendship with you, blind to the friendship I had with James and Sirius. Eventually, Malfoy and Lestrange, along with others, started to prey on those fears. Malfoy told me that if I joined Voldemort, I would never have to fear anything again. It wasn't long after that when the Prewitts were killed. You remember them, right? Everyone loved them. Why should I think Voldemort would stop with them? They were loved and respected by everyone. I was just Peter. A lowly nothing.
They took me into the Forbidden Forest late at night during seventh year. That's when I got the Dark Mark put onto my forearm. I felt as though my soul had caught on fire. But I also felt relieved. After all, why should Voldemort want to kill one of his own?
He told me that I would have to prove myself, but that it was up to me to figure out how. He told me that if I did well, I would get power beyond my wildest dreams. No one would be able to hurt me, and fear would never touch me. Idiot that I was, I believed everything he said.
It wasn't long after that when James made me his secret keeper. It wasn't long after that that I betrayed him. I betrayed my best friends. A man and woman who had treated me decently, with respect and caring. I betrayed my family. And I gloried in it, Remus. I thought I was so clever, handing the Potters to Voldemort. The Dark Lord had been pleased, but told me I wasn't completely trusted yet. I would have to do one more thing. I figured, I'd already gone this far...and so I decided to set out and kill Sirius.
It didn't work. It did land him in Azkaban, though and I suppose that would have been good enough. A good wizard in Azkaban, one less wizard for Vol—You-Know-Who, to deal with. Of course by the time I finished all this, Voldemort was gone, but I didn't find out until later. That's not the point.
Peter paused. What was the point? He started scratching again, a moment later.
I'm well on the road to Hell now, Remus. I don't deserve anything less. If you have any sense, you'll have stopped reading far before you get here.
I hope to burn for what I've done. I hope one day, I'll be able to forgive myself. I hope one day, you'll be able to forgive me. I know I'll never regain your trust, or your friendship. I do one day hope to have your forgiveness, though I don't deserve it.
I hear them coming now. Perhaps they'll kill me and finally end this. Before that happens, from whatever vestiges of my soul remain, from the bottom of whatever beats in my chest, I'm sorry. I know that's not good enough. I am way, way past sorry, but it's the best I can do.
I don't know if forgiveness is something I'll ever know. I certainly shall never forgive myself.
If someday you meet James, Sirius, and Lily in their Next Great Adventure, tell them for me, wont you?
If such a thing as forgiveness does exist, the next time I meet you, it will be as Peter and not as Wormtail.
I hope you'll never forget what we once had.
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.
Peter leaned back and read what he'd written. It would have to do. He stood up silently as his cell door openedand waited for the end.