At first no one realized. For years no one even noticed, which was fair as the majority of the time Peter was assumed dead. But then he wasn’t dead, and he was fighting his two best friends, the older brothers who had promised to protect him. Who now knew, they had failed to protect him. It wasn’t even Remus or Sirius who ended up realizing. Peter kept telling them not to blame themselves, that is when he’s aware enough to recognize them. Mostly he still thinks they’re fresh out of school, apparently that was when Voldemort found him. He had been under the spell for so long, had lost so many years because they didn’t notice. McGonagal kept reminding them that there’s no way they could’ve ever known but they were smarter than that, Peter was their brother and they just assumed he had betrayed them, their little brother. Thank god Harry questioned it.
Harry questioned everything, always ready to see the good in people despite how he was raised. He was able to recognize the pain behind Draco’s eyes, the suffering in Snape’s heart, and the desperation in Dudley’s voice. He was also able to recognize the lack of Gryffindor bravery in Peter. After the war Harry questioned everything. He saved lives following his own intuition.
After the battle Harry had found Sirius, told him he had a feeling. That someone needed to find Pettigrew. Remus was the one who found him, alone in the remains of moaning myrtle’s bathroom.
At the sight of Peter cowering in the corner of the bathroom Remus swiftly sent off an alert to let the others know where he was. He knew he’d have to fight to keep himself from buying into whatever story Peter was going to try to sell him.
“Who- wh-who are you? What happened here?”
“Peter? Its Remus,” in a second Remus worked through his lingering concern, remembers what Peter did and his attitude changes, ”Your lord is dead it’s time to go where you belong.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not Remus. Remus is my age. Where’s James? I want to see my friends. Where are my friends?” Remus was shocked even now that Peter would stoop so low just to protect his own ass, to bring up James. somehow Remus continued to be shocked by his old friend’s ability to be so cruel. This was someone he once vowed to protect, someone he loved, who he thought loved him.
“James! Thank merlin, help! I don’t understand what’s happening, this old man is claiming to be Remus and why does Hogwarts look so bad? How did I even get to Hogwarts?? I don’t understand James, please!” Remus turns to see Harry and Sirius standing behind him, Sirius looked confused, pissed, hopeful. Harry quickly jumped into action however, rushing towards Peter, concern etched onto his features.
“Peter? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you know what year it is? Can you tell me the last thing you remember?” Within seconds Harry was fussing over the quivering murderer, seemingly no care for the actions taken against his own parents, much to the worry of his two godfathers.
“Gee, you must really be worried you never call me Peter. But no I’m not hurt, its 1979, and-“ Peter trails off a haunted look in his eyes before he whimpers and mumbles, “I don’t want to remember. James please I just want to go home. Where are Sirius and Remus please I want to go home. Prongsy please.”
As Peter begins to tear, pitiful cries spilling over in his fear, understanding dawned on Sirius and Remus. Understanding of their actions, their beliefs, their failures. An imperius curse nearly invisible when cast correctly, broken by the will or death of the caster, irreparable damage to one’s mind if held for too long. That was their best friend, their brother crying to the son of their friend, mind so broken he thought Harry was James, he thought himself still a child. They had promised to protect him and there he was crying out because of their failures. They hadn’t even noticed near twenty years and they hadn’t even noticed. But Harry did.
In a second of quick thought Remus had the mind to spell himself and Sirius to appear as their younger selves it wouldn’t last long and anyone of sound mind would be able to see through it but Peter was clearly not of sound mind. Harry looked up and breathed a sigh of relief, he could pose as his father for now if it meant sanity for his old friend, “Peter, Wormtail, look. There’s Remus and Sirius, they’re right there. Voldemort imperiod you but it’s okay he’s dead now. You’re okay.”
Peter looked up and Remus could have wept at the hope on his face, “Moony? Pads? Where’d the old men go?”
Remus watched as Sirius bit his lip sadly and gingerly walked over to Harry and Peter. He leaned down and smirked his usual boyish charm finally showing, “Come on tails, let’s go home.”
“Okay, good,” Peter nodded quietly, the childish anxious look on his face somehow fitting him better than any other look he’s worn in the past 19 years, “I’m tired.”