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Hogwarts.
Hog-warts.
Hogwarts.
Hogwarts.
Hog warts.
Hogwarts.
The unfamiliar name slid off of Peter Pettigrew's tongue with ease. The name was foreign to him.
Hogwarts.
Although Peter Pettigrew hadn't before heard of the school many times before, he had known that this was where his parents had gone. Where they met. Where they had fallen in love.
He knew that this is where he had to go, if he ever wanted to truly be a wizard.
He struggled with the idea of being accepted as an equal. Peter Pettigrew tended to stand in the shadows more than ever really being in the light. He didn't mind it that way. In fact, he preferred it that way. No one could tell him off, if they didn't see him at all.
Peter Pettigrew had a very small voice, to pair with his very small body. He didn't have a big imagination, either. However, he did have a big heart. He just didn't know exactly how to use it.
He liked to play it safe. This later would become his downfall. You see, Peter Pettigrew didn't get out much as a child. When he did, he stuck to what he knew. So when he appeared at platform 9 3/4, he held on to the end of his mother coat as she pushed his cart.
"Now go make friends, Peter." His mother gave a wide grin. "This is where you belong. With other children just like yourself, huh? Make me proud, baby." She kissed his forehead.
"But Mother, what if the other kids don't like me? What if they think I'm strange, or a loser?" He asked with innocent eyes.
"Honey, that's the least of your worries. You'll be fine. They'll love you, I promise."
"Okay. I guess I'm ready. I'll miss you, mother. I love you."
"I love you too, Sweetheart."
As Peter Pettigrew boarded the train, he felt as if every stare in the room was directed towards him. He found the nearest empty compartment, and decided it would be nice. He sat alone the entire trip to the foreign school that would now be his home. He swallowed the lump in his throat while he stared out the window, never feeling more out of place.
↓↓↓
The first years were small, but Peter was the smallest. He knew because as he walked to what must have been the great hall, he heard all of the children around him gasp. He, however, couldn't see past their shoulders.
As the sorting ceremony went on, he grew more tired, and tired. Finally, a Professor called his name. He had to fight through the crowd in front of him, politely, of course.
They placed it on his head, and it began to speak.
"Peter Pettigrew. The Pettigrews are a long line of Gryffindors, aren't they? A pure blooded family. Nor suited for Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff? Loyalty is a rather good quality. It's more a fit for you. Slytherin, Gryffindor. Which will it be? Selfish, yes. Brave, not necessarily. All the odds point towards Slytherin. Brave. You, my boy, have the potential for bravery. Gryffindor it must be. So I'll put you in GRYFFINDOR!"
This was where Peter would remain for the rest of his schooling days. The sorting hat didn't make mistakes, after all.
Brave.
This word dwindled in his head.
The hat thinks I'm brave.
He sat at the very end of the Gryffindor table, closest to the doors. He didn't eat much. Just picked at a little here and there. He was a very self conscious person. He was afraid his fellow students would call him cruel words and make fun of his eating habits. At home, he ate quit frequently.
He found the meal very pleasant and was sure he would like the dinning hall very much. He tried to convince himself that he'd eat more next meal. Deep down, he knew he couldn't bring himself to it.
Finally, the meal vanished, making Peter feel much left tempted to pile mounds of delicious food into his mouth.
The prefects called out to the first years that they'd take them to their common rooms. The walk there was confusing as they passed through what seemed to be an endless amount of hallways that all looked the same. They seemed to twist and to turn in every direction you could imagine. A left, then a right, then three lefts, then the third left. Peter tried to remember it all, knowing there wasn't anyway he could.
When they finally reached the tower, they entered together. They were assigned in groups of four to their rooms. The selection was random, so Peter didn't fear being left out. However, he still feared he didn't belong here.
Once he reached his room, he found three other young first years like himself, placing their things in their small sections. They all looked rather intimidating. One had scratches all along his face, looking as if he had gotten in a fight. Another had long, black hair and dark eyes. The third just kept to himself in his corner. Peter decided he would follow routine, in hopes they wouldn't notice him.
"Well, I guess if we're going to be spending the next seven years together, we might as well introduce ourselves." The long black haired boy said. He seemed confident. Something Peter was not. "I'm Sirius."
Peter recognized the name. He quickly connected that he was the boy that caused such an uproar in the Great Hall during the sorting.
"He's a Black! He's a Slytherin! He's a pure blood! Put the hat back on him!"
He remembered people yelling. He of course, couldn't see over the heads of the other first years to witness this.
"James." The boy with glasses spoke.
"I-I'm, uh- I'm no-not uh. I'm Remus." The one with the scratches stuttered.
Peter realized that he was the only one who hadn't shared his name. "Peter." He managed to squeak out. The others didn't seem to hear him.
"Mate, if you're going to share you're name, you might as well use your voice. I mean, you couldn't get anything across talking like that," said James.
