For wild magical creatures or ordinary animals that neither hibernate nor store food for emergencies, the Forbidden Forest's winter is a time of scarcity. They must hunt to secure the nutrients necessary for survival.
Peter Pettigrew, ever fearful for his life, would never dare venture out in his rat form to forage under such conditions. Unlike Harry, an ordinary wizard's Animagus form cannot wield magic, relying solely on the physical capabilities of the transformed animal. A mere rat stands no chance against the magical beasts of the forest.
To survive, Peter had to find food and warmth, which meant operating in his human form.
But this posed a problem: a man unable to interfere with divination through magical means, without a wand or the ability to cast spells, and untrained in wilderness survival—how could he move through a snow-covered forest and perfectly conceal his hunting tracks?
The answer was simple: he couldn't.
Peter had never hated anyone as fiercely as he did now, even if that person was the child of someone he once called a friend.
Was that person truly his friend?
At this point, even Peter couldn't answer that question with certainty. Curled up in a dank burrow, the piercing cold seeping into his bones, the gnawing hunger burning through him like a fire digesting him from within, his hatred grew deeper, more visceral.
Why?
Why was he treated this way?
Why did every misfortune in the world seem to chase him relentlessly?
He had even forsaken his rights as a human, content to live as a wizard's pet rat, yet even that was denied him.
Why?!
Hunger devours reason, and cold drives a man to madness—if he still clings to the will to live, he must fight to survive.
So Peter crawled out of the burrow he'd hidden in for so long. He could no longer recall how he managed to catch that pitiful deer. Perhaps its long stillness mistook him for a withered tree? Or maybe it was just dumb luck. It didn't matter.
Greedily, Peter tore into the deer's neck, gulping down its scalding blood, filling his roaring, ravenous stomach. He ripped off chunks of warm venison and swallowed them whole, heedless of a decayed tooth breaking in the process.
As long as he could fill his belly, nothing else mattered. The warmth of the deer's body and the satisfaction in his stomach made Peter feel alive again for the first time in ages. He even began to think, wondering if he should bury the deer's corpse and crawl inside its warm remains as a rat—those who've endured bitter cold will cling to even a moment's warmth.
The blood and flesh he consumed slowly restored his withered body's clarity. The blood that had spilled from the deer during his frenzy had frozen into red ice, sharp to the touch. Peter knew he had to move quickly.
Whether it was making use of the deer's corpse or evading the pursuit of the world's most disgusting, loathsome brat, he had to act fast.
Why did someone in this world have access to such vile magic?
Divination magic!
As a wizard, Peter had never despised magic's existence more. Countless times, he fantasized about a world without magic, where he could escape the Forbidden Forest unnoticed, free from the fear of that wretched boy divining his location or capturing him.
If he could wake up one day and be the only one capable of wielding magic, how perfect that would be.
But every time he awoke, the cold remained cold, and the hunger remained hunger.
Peter stared dully at his surroundings. The snow in the area was stained red with deer blood. He had no other options. He could only hope those fools would mistake this for the aftermath of a magical beast's hunt.
Clinging to that faint hope, Peter grasped the deer's antlers with both hands and shakily stood. Then he turned—and froze.
Snow clung to his gaunt, once-plump face. His mouth hung open in shock, revealing missing teeth. His mind went blank. Behind him stood three figures, three people who had appeared without him noticing.
Three faces he could never forget, especially in recent times—they were the nightmares that tore him from sleep.
Sirius Black, Remus Lupin—and, finally, Harry Potter.
The three people Peter never wanted to see again were standing before him now.
Suddenly, Sirius surged forward, breaking free from the snow. He landed a brutal punch on Peter's face. The snow, reaching past his knees, slowed him, but Sirius didn't hesitate, throwing himself at Peter as if terrified he might escape.
"Traitor!" Sirius roared, his eyes bloodshot with fury. His fists pummeled Peter's cheeks, but mere punches weren't enough to sate his rage. In a frenzy, Sirius slammed his head against Peter's, once, twice, with such force that blood—human blood, not the deer's—stained both their heads before a third blow was needed.
"Why?! Why did you betray us?!"
"I didn't! I didn't betray you!" Peter's voice was almost rat-like in its shrill desperation. "Let me go, Sirius—let me go! Remus, help me! Sirius has lost it! He's a liar! He fooled everyone!"
"You dare lie even now?!" Sirius's fury intensified. "Your crimes are no secret, you traitor!"
Each word was punctuated by a heavy blow. Weakened by cold and hunger, Peter stood no chance against Sirius. Within seconds, more teeth flew from his mouth, landing in the snow.
"Hold on, Sirius," Remus interjected. "Keep going like that, and you'll kill him."
Sirius's raised fist paused.
"Yes, yes, that's it!" Peter gasped, a frantic smile spreading across his tear-streaked, snot-covered face, smeared with snow. Pinned beneath Sirius, he reached desperately toward Remus and Harry. "Long time no see, old friend—my old friend! You don't really believe those newspaper stories, do you? And this boy—he's just a kid, he doesn't know anything! Sirius wants to kill me, Remus!"
"He deserves to be beaten to death!" Sirius roared, landing another punch that left Peter's face a bloody mess.
"Calm down, Sirius," Remus said soothingly. "You don't want him to die too easily, do you?"
The words had an immediate effect. Sirius stopped, though he looked as if he'd heal Peter just to prolong his suffering if his position allowed him to draw his wand.
"No, Remus," Peter whimpered, clawing at the snow in desperation. "He's trying to kill me again! He killed Lily and James, and now he's after me! Save me, Remus…"
"I've seen enough," Remus said coolly. "Peter, if you're willing, I have a few questions for you."
"Questions?" Peter panted, grasping at the lifeline. "Good questions. I like questions."
Sirius sneered but didn't interfere, watching Peter's pathetic struggles. Compared to the days just after his escape from Azkaban, Sirius's mental state had improved considerably. Back then, he'd have been far less composed.
Well, not that composed.
"First question," Remus said lightly. "If Sirius was the one who betrayed James, why have you been hiding as a rat for twelve years? Why would an innocent man choose that life?"
"Because I was scared!" Peter shrieked. "Innocent or not, how could I not be afraid?! Voldemort's followers were after me because I sent their best agent to Azkaban—that traitor, Sirius Black!"
Bang!
Another punch.
"Sorry, Remus, I couldn't help it," Sirius said, taking a deep breath.
He was that kind of man—apologizing only after the deed was done.
"No worries, I forgive you," Remus replied, his tone even lighter. "Second question: James's own soul has named you as the true Secret-Keeper, the one who gave Voldemort the location of the Potter's home. How do you explain that, Peter?"
Peter was speechless, his cracked lips trembling. He finally realized the truth: these three had no intention of letting him go.
This was all just a game to them.
"Ha! He's got nothing to say!" Sirius crowed, his eyes glinting maliciously as he studied Peter like a butcher eyeing a cut of meat. "Let's see… how should I kill you? Slice you up bit by bit, or start by cutting out that vile tongue?"
Tongue lolling grotesquely, Sirius taunted Peter, reveling in the moment.
"Sirius?" Remus said, exasperated. "There's a kid here. Tone down the gore."
"It's fine, I think it's normal," Harry interrupted, waving a hand. "No punishment is too harsh for a traitor. If the setting were different, I'd say toss Peter to the hyenas on the savannah. They'd eat him alive—starting from the rear, by the way."
Remus gave Harry a complicated look, momentarily at a loss for words.
"Great idea, Harry!" Sirius bellowed, approvingly. "That's the kind of punishment this scum deserves!"
"No, no, no!" Peter shook his head frantically, summoning strength from nowhere. He thrashed wildly, managing to throw Sirius off and lunging toward Harry and Remus, collapsing into the snow. "Kind boy, kind Harry—Harry, you look just like your father… exactly like him…"
"How dare you speak to Harry?!" Sirius scrambled up and kicked Peter's backside. "How dare you face him?! How dare you mention James?!"
"Harry!" Ignoring Sirius, Peter flipped over, kneeling in the snow. His bloodied, mangled face forced a fawning smile as he looked at Harry, realizing the boy might hold his fate. "Harry, James wouldn't want me dead… James would understand, Harry… he'd show mercy…"
Even Remus couldn't stomach it anymore. He kicked Peter back into the snow.
"You still want to live, even now?" Remus said, his expression complex. "Peter, you…"
"What else can I do?!" Peter's spirit finally broke. Collapsing onto the ground, he wailed, "Sirius—Remus—what could I do?! The Dark Lord—you don't know his power… I was terrified!"
"Sirius, I was never as brave as you, Remus, or James. I never wanted this! It was him—the one whose name we can't speak—who forced me—"
"Liar!" Sirius roared, veins bulging on his face. "You were feeding him information for a year before Lily and James were killed! You betrayed us! You betrayed Dumbledore!"
"He was winning everywhere! What was the point of resisting?!" Perhaps realizing escape and survival were impossible, Peter let go of all restraint, shouting, "You never treated me like a friend anyway! I was just your lackey—the pitiful, ignored rat trailing behind you!"
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