Chapter 1 : The Sorting of Peter Pettigrew
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The dwindling crowd of first years seemed to gasp slightly before giving a sigh and releasing one very scared looking blonde boy.
The little blonde boy, who from this moment on in the story shall be known as Peter, looked up at the frightening lady holding the large scroll much like a rat would look at a cat before it was about to be eaten.
Young Peter stood in horror, hoping against hope that there was another “Pettigrew, Peter” hiding under one of the long tables in the Great Hall.
As it so happened, there were no little boys hiding under the tables of the Great Hall on that particular day, so Peter took a few steps forward, towards the ominous looking stool with a rather ratty looking hat sitting upon it.
The boy took step after step after step.
He looked down.
He realized that his left shoe was untied. He also realized that if he were to start to climb those three remaining steps towards the stool, he could trip on that one little shoelace and die before he ever got Sorted.
Peter decided it would be wise not to risk his life at the moment and knelt to tie his shoe.
Unfortunately for dear little Peter, he had eaten a breakfast bean burrito that morning, and only now were the results showing. He heard a ripple of laughter throughout the student body, and even the menacing old woman cracked a small smile next to Peter.
Peter decided that the shoe wasn’t worth tying, and maybe, just maybe, he would get lucky and trip and maybe fall into a coma and not wake up until all of the other children had long graduated.
Such was not the case.
He reached the stool and promptly sat down; jamming the old hat upon his head as to not see the smirking faces of his comrades. It was rather dark under there. Peter did not do well in the dark.
Well hello there, young Peter. What have we here? Peter heard a voice and for a split second was afraid that he was losing his mind. Not to fear, dear boy, it is only I, the Sorting Hat, and I’m only here to help you.
Peter blinked underneath the small stuffy hat and replied. “But sir, er…madam, er…” Peter thought the Hat was male…but he couldn’t really tell…
He heard the Hat laugh slightly, before it decided to change the subject. Down to business, dear boy, what have we got? I see that you would do poorly in Ravenclaw…just barely made it through primary school, eh? Not to worry, common sense will help you more in the long run anyways.
Peter felt his insides squirm. “Common sense…”
Yes, young Peter, I sense some common sense in you…perhaps you ought to go into SLY-…Oh no, never mind…after that particular memory, I take it you’re likely to believe anything, definitely not the house for you…
Peter cried out indignantly. “Hey!” He did not like having his memories sorted through, and of course that memory made him look like an idiot. It wasn’t his fault rabbit poop looked so much like a Cocoa Puff…
I suppose that leaves us with only two choices now, lucky boy, eh?
Peter sighed; he knew where he was going. “I suppose I’ll go into Hufflepuff then, I mean, I could never be brave as a Gryffindor.” He felt his stomach lurch at the thought of the disappointment he would see in his parent’s eyes when they realized their only son hadn’t even managed to get into the same House as they had been in.
It’s later been said that the Hat felt bad for it soon replied, Why would I send you into that house? I sense the potential for great courage in you…you just need to learn how to bring it out. Just because you are afraid of everything now, doesn’t necessarily make you a coward, it is how you react to your fears that matters. You walked up here like so many of the other students, you even embarrassed yourself in front of the entire school, but you still came up. You don’t need to hide underneath me anymore, because deep down you do have the courage of a true GRYFFINDOR!!!
Not wanting to let the Hat’s hopes down, Peter yanked it off his head and rushed down towards the Gryffindor table. Sadly, as foreseen, he tripped over his untied shoelace on the last step and was knocked out cold for the remainder of the feast.
It’s funny how life works out like that.
A/N: Hey everyone, this one was rather different from anything else I've ever written, it's not really my writing style, so tell me what you think of it. Thanks!
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