He sat crouched between some
Lavender bushes on an old neglected grave in the small graveyard at the end of the Wixen village where he had grown up.
He was shivering, as the weather had turned bitterly cold since Halloween and the sky was looking ominous, heralding the first snow of the season.
He wasn’t the only one who was hidden from sight to await the funeral party and he had been careful to assure he remained upwind from his former friend.
He had spotted the big black dog, flanked by two ghosts, as soon as he had arrived this morning, despite the dog’s perfect hiding place in the shadows of the Yew trees surrounding the graveyard.
Peter felt a pang of guilt, thinking about James and Lily.
From his hiding place he observed the cortège entering the small cemetery.
He saw his mother, bent over in grief, supported by Professor McGonagall and Hope Lupin, Remus’s mum.
Peter had always liked Hope. She was a no-nonsense woman, not unlike Professor McGonagall, but much less disapproving.
Then again, he supposed the Marauders had given Professor McGonagall plenty to disapprove of over the years and he was touched she had bothered to attend his funeral.
The sight of the coffin nearly made him shriek in surprise.
The full-sized glass coffin contained a small red velvet cushion with gold piping on which sat a miniature coffin big enough to contain an man’s finger, as that was all the remains they had found of Peter Pettigrew.
The newspapers had made much of that fact, much to Peter’s delight.
Carrying the coffin were his friend Remus Lupin, and fellow Gryffindors and Order Members Arthur Weasley, Frank Longbottom and Alastor Moody, who was glancing around him looking for anything suspicious.
The rest of the small group of mourners consisted of Alice Longbottom, Molly Weasley and Albus Dumbledore.
Not nearly as big a crowd as at the Potter funeral a few days ago, he reflected with a hint of envy, but he supposed James and Lily had always been more popular.
When they got to the gravesite, incongruously large for a man’s finger, the four men lowered the coffin and joined the other mourners.
From his hiding place he could see Remus sniff the air and hoped that the lavender would sufficiently mask his scent, as Moony’s sense of smell had always been far superior to Padfoot’s.
Dumbledore calmly took his place on the other side of the grave, facing the mourners and began to speak.
‘Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to say our final goodbyes to Peter John Pettigrew, a beloved son and true friend to all of us,’ the old wizard began.
A barely audible growl erupted from the stand of yew trees.
No-one appeared to notice, but Peter thought he saw Remus’ ears twitch ever so slightly.
‘If only we could turn back time…’
At these words twelve sets of eyes turned pleadingly at Dumbledore, including three pairs hidden on the outskirts of the graveyard.
Dumbledore looked at the mourners in front of him, kindly but firmly.
By the looks of resignation from the others they must have discussed this already.
No doubt the dangers of meddling with time had been debated, with Dumbledore cautioning against anything that would jeopardise the precious timeline.
Such a load of bull coming from the biggest meddler of all time.
Of course turning back time would leave Peter in a bit of a pickle, depending on how far back they would go, so for once he had to agree with Dumbledore that it was better to leave things as they were.
He would have to do something about Padfoot, though.
That dog was too smart for his own good.
Even in his human form he would not let things go and would be like a dog with a bone.
The wind had picked up a bit and he no longer could hear every word of Dumbledore’s eulogy, but the old man must have said something particularly moving, as he could hear his poor mother wail just a bit louder.
He wasn’t the only one to pick up on that, as a strangled bark could be heard from the far side of the cemetery.
Sirius never could keep his tempers under control.
Look where it got him. Going after Peter half-cocked, instead of informing the Order of the secret-keeper switch and coming up with a proper plan to bring Peter to justice.
Peter didn’t dare get any closer to catch everything Dumbledore had to say about him, but he was pleased to see that his mother seemed to appreciate all that was said.
Maybe the eulogy would make the papers, like the Potters’ one had.
Maybe they would even award him a medal, Peter thought, smiling at the thought of his mother accepting an Order of Merlin Medal posthumously.
She would like that, he thought amused.
All too soon, the funeral was over and the mourners left.
Peter watched the mourners exit the graveyard and wondered idly where they would go for the traditional funeral meal, as his tiny rat stomach grumbled.
He noticed Remus looking around as if trying to spot a friend, but the black dog and the two ghosts must have left the clearing some time during the lowering of the coffin.
Peter had not seen them leave, which was foolish of him. Constant vigilance was something he normally prided himself on. Something he and Mad-eye had in common.
He really should have kept a closer eye on that dog, he thought, glancing anxiously in the direction of the patch of Yew trees where not too long ago he had spied the black dog with the ghosts of his best friends.
A sense of foreboding glued him to the spot. He was afraid to move a muscle.
What if Padfoot was still lurking about instead of licking his wounds somewhere beside the nearest dumpster looking for scraps?
He stayed hidden for what seemed like ages.
Just as he thought the coast was clear, he was pinned down by two paws and felt teeth pressing on the back of his neck.
‘Good dog,’ he heard a familiar voice say. ‘You were always the best rat-catcher in your animagus form.’
Before he could process what was happening, he heard Remus cast Homenum Revelio Maxima and felt himself being transformed back into his human form.
When he looked up he saw he was surrounded by Order members.
Their faces showed a mixture of disbelief, anger and disappointment.
The dog was now growling loudly.
As if on cue, Remus cast Incarcerous and Peter felt the ropes winding around him tightly.
Then two pairs of hands grabbed him as another grabbed his face and held up a cup.
‘Drink up, rat-boy,’ Mad-eye said gruffly.
‘Are you pppppoisoning me?’ Peter squeaked.
‘Rat-poison would be too good for you’, Moody replied.
‘This will bind your animagus powers. We couldn’t have you turn into a rat and escaping Azkaban as soon as you get there now, could we?’ he said menacingly.
Peter’s heart sank.
He had no choice but to gulp down the potion and felt a strange chilling sensation, as the liquid slid down his throat.
He clearly had walked into a well-laid trap and there was no way out.
‘Can we now turn back time, please?’ Sirius whined impatiently, having transformed back into his human form.
Peter’s eyes lit up.
Turning back time would suit him just fine.
‘Sorry, mate,’ Mad-eye said kindly, ‘We discussed this and for once I have to agree with Albus. We would risk too much by trying to meddle with the timeline.
How many others would want to bring back loved ones?
Why just the Potters, why not also the Prewett brothers, or Marlene or Dorcas?
You yourself might want to try to find out what happened to Regulus.
Where would we stop?’
He put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder and squeezed it gently.
‘James and Lily will live on in all of us who remember them.
We will clear your name, lock up this rat and then you fetch that godson of yours and tell him all about his mum and dad as he grows up.
You tell him about his father’s prankster days and prowess as a seeker, and his mum’s kindness and brilliance and unbelievable bad choice in men. You make sure they will live on in him, as they do in all of us.’
This was such an uncharacteristically moving speech from Mad-eye that they all stared at him dumbfounded.
‘Now, back to work,’ Moody barked after a while in his usual gruff voice.
‘You all have your assignments. Round up any known Death-eaters and be careful…the head of the snake may be cut off, but the tail is still mighty deadly.’
Then he turned to Sirius and Remus.
‘Come on let’s lock up this rat, save your sorry ass and rescue the Potter pup from that awful Muggle family.’