The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

Worthless

At that moment - two things happened at once.

First, Peter reached forward to touch Remus's knee and his jumper sleeve slunk up ever so slightly and upon his wrist - for safe keeping while he was out of the dormitory for so long as they'd been planning to be during the full moon - hung the Mickey Mouse watch. Remus's eyes flashed recognition as they lighted on it, and they turned upward to meet Peter's - the question already in them - and he had just started to open his mouth when the second thing happened.

"Of course I blood would know what the word Marauders means," Sirius's voice was suddenly booming through the kitchen, his big leather boots clunking, untied, around his ankles as he stepped in. "I'm not daft."

Remus was still staring at Peter, the moment passed but not forgotten or overlooked, and Peter flushed and looked up at Sirius, "I didn't say you were daft. I was just saying that Remus is important! And he is!"

"The most important of all the important things," Sirius agreed with an almighty tone to his voice. He clunked over and wrapped his arms around Remus's neck from behind, kissing his hair with a loud smack of his lips and clung to his head as though it were a life preserver. "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you, Moonpie."

Remus muttered, "Because I have saved your arse multiple times over."

"Because I would be worthless without you," Sirius corrected, tugging Remus's hair and forcing his face back into a kiss rather reminiscent of their very first.

Peter, feeling panic in every nerve of his body, which was flushed hot from head to toe, saw his opportunity to escape. He quickly scrambled to get up from the chair, knocking over the medic kit again. "Oops," he muttered, "I've just - just remembered something - gotta get done," and he hurried out of the room, leaving the spinning spool of gauze on the floor of the Shack as Sirius's mouth pressed again Remus's.

He was in the tunnel, running as quickly as a rat can run, his feet scampering over the uneven ground, ducking under high knots of tree root, and over stones, his tail dragging through the muddish dirt. He could feel the cool of the tunnel all around him, cooling the flush in his skin that had carried over even to his rat form. It was not until he was nearly half of the way back to Hogwarts castle without either Remus or Sirius following him, that he paused to catch his breath. He sat in the darkness, trembling, and seeing a ghost of Remus Lupin's eyes in his mind.

How in bloody hell was he to explain this?

Could he tell Remus the truth about the watch, about Voldemort?

Would Remus believe him, even if he did?

Peter trembled, and popped back into a boy, sitting with his back against the tunnel wall. He drew his wand. "Lumos," he whispered and the tip lighted up and he clutched it between his teeth, moving his arm to pull back the jumper sleeve and stare at the watch. The mouse stared back at him, grinning as his little mousey arms moved jerkily around the face. 

Do you ever feel worthless? As though no matter what you do, you'll always be just you?

Remus's question echoed in Peter's mind as he stared at the watch.

Did he ever feel worthless! What a stupid question to ask Peter Pettigrew. Of course he felt worthless. He was worthless.

Tears filled Peter's eyes. He brought his finger to Mickey Mouse's arm and held the little hand with his fingertip. The tears streamed down his face... and he felt his heart seize as the hand struggled against his grip...

Perhaps, Peter thought, he wouldn't have to explain having the watch to Remus or anyone else (for surely by now he'd told Sirius what he'd seen).

Perhaps, Peter thought, he wouldn't have to face the Dark Lord ever again.

Perhaps, he'd just hold that little mouse hand until the watch stopped working. Until his heart stopped working. Until everything ended and he didn't have to be worthless anymore.

But even as he thought the words, the watch face glowed white-hot and burned his hand, forcing him to release it. He gasped for air, the watch ticking onward resolutely, and clutched at his chest, his heart racing to catch up with the past few moments that it had been stopped.

"You can't even kill yourself correctly," Peter mumbled angrily, hot tears staining his face. "You're even worthless at that!" And he quickly rolled his sleeve back down, popped back into a rat, and continued on his scurrying journey through the tunnel, back toward Hogwarts, desperate to pretend that the last couple moments had never happened... for even as he thought about it, he felt ashamed.

It never once occurred to him that perhaps Mopsus, the keeper of time, hadn't allowed him to kill himself for a reason... that maybe, perhaps, Peter Pettigrew  would one day prove that he wasn't so worthless after all.