I hate that man. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He was their friend. They trusted him. He trusted them, or so he said.

He was a friend. He went on all their adventures. He learned with them. He wrote a special Map with them. He was a Marauder. One of four pals, destined to be friends forever.

He was Wormtail. His friends were Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs. They went by nicknames. They were a team. He was a part of it. They were friends.

But that wasn’t true. Not for him, anyway. He betrayed them. Turn away, just like that. Only to save his own stinking skin. The Marauders were supposed to die for each other. But not him.

He sold James. Prongs. His friend. He as good as killed him. He did the same Prongs’ wife. Leaving their son to a life sadness. Emptiness. Suffering.

He locked up Sirius. Sent him to Azkaban. Padfoot. His friend. He caused pain and suffering to two of his best friends. Two Marauders. Gone. Because of him. Sirius in hiding. Can’t see Harry. His Godson. His friends son. No. His brother’s son. He did it. All for himself

He faked his death. Twice, in fact. He pretended to be the rat that he is. Hurt two young boys. One, Harry. The other, Ron. He was his pet. His friend. Well, not really. He used him. And didn’t care.

Yes. Peter Pettigrew IS a rat. He destroyed a family. A friendship. Betrayed the Marauders code. Friends forever? Ha! He did it. He did it all. He tore apart the best parts of many lives. How could he? How?

I don’t know for sure. But all I know now, is that
I Hate Peter Pettigrew.