Peter likes to watch Lily. Not because he particularly likes her; on the contrary, he hates her. He doesn't understand why James likes her so much. He thinks her red hair is ugly (and probably fake), her eyes are cliché (He's never seen anything more overrated), and she obviously thinks the world of herself.
No, Peter does not like Lily Evans at all.
But regardless of what he thinks, James is dating her. Maybe it is because he's dating her that Peter hates Lily so much. James is probably the only person who ever defended him, and now he's always away with her, and that leaves Sirius bored. And when Sirius gets bored… well, Peter doesn't like being around when Sirius gets bored because he usually ends up sprouting an appendage that most certainly was not there before.
It isn't like Remus is any better company- all he cares about are his books. Occasionally he takes interest in something James and Sirius are going on about, but other than that, he's completely uninterested.
So Peter likes to watch Lily, thinking about the things he'd like to tell her if he could get her alone. The things he'd like to do to her if he had the ability…
Peter only thinks like this because of some of the things that boy Lucius has been telling him lately. Lucius says that there's Someone- Someone who Peter has only heard whispers about- who can help him gain talent. He can do whatever he wants to whomever he wants, if only he joins that Someone. Quite frankly, Peter is tired of being bullied and thinks that it's a cracking good idea.
But back to Lily. Now she's getting out of her seat. She's just finished breakfast and is telling James to go ahead without her. Peter doesn't hear all this, but he's really more perceptive than people give him credit for. As she trots out of the hall, Peter feels courage swell in his breast. Today's the day. He'll finally tell Evans exactly what he thinks of her.
He leaves too, ignoring Sirius (who is calling him back, wanting him to try some fudge that is obviously tainted) and keeping his eyes fixed determinedly on the curtain of flaming red hair that bounces along as Lily walks. It soon becomes painfully obvious that Peter is not nearly as good of shape as she is and, gasping, he calls,
"Lily!"
Lily jumps slightly, obviously not having expected somebody to be following her. But she quickly recovers, giving what Peter knows to be her most polite smile.
"Yes, Peter?"
"I-" Peter freezes. He hasn't thought this all the way through. Lily shifts her bag, looking a little impatient. After another minute, she checks her watch. Finally she says, sounding annoyed,
"Did you want something? Only, I'm going to be late, so you can tell me later if you'd like." She turns away.
"Why do you like him?" Peter blurts out suddenly. He blushes. Oh no, no, now she's turning around very slowly, and now he's trapped.
"What do you mean?" Lily asked, knowing perfectly well what he means. She's too smart not to know he means James. But Peter clarifies anyway.
"James. Why do you like James?"
Oh no again. He sees the look forming on her face, and he knows he's said it wrong because she's looking at him pityingly, the same look she has to give every week or two when some fourth year gets a crush on her. She thinks that Peter- that's just disgusting. Peter has a very second grade approach to girls. They are infested with cooties and other horrors that make boys turn into piles of goo at their touch.
"I don't like you!" He says, a tiny bit annoyed, "that's disgusting!"
He can't help thinking she looks a little hurt. This makes Peter hate her more. She's so very conceited that she would have loved the ego boost that his liking her would have given. Peter is only too glad to take that boost away.
"Because.." he takes a deep breath "I don't see what he sees in you at all."
Now he knows she's hurt. Her lips sort of curl down at the corners and her face begins to crumple a bit. For a second Peter almost feels bad for her, but she is quick to regain her composure. He tells himself he imagined it.
"Well," she says, her voice shaking a little bit, "I'm sorry you feel that way Peter. I can sort of see why- sometimes I don't know why he-"
"Yes you do." Peter spits, disgusted all of a sudden, "You're so smug and self centered that I'm sure you made him tell you why. I'm sure you spent hours telling yourself all these great things about yourself. Well, I'll tell you the truth, Evans; you aren't that good at all. You're a nasty excuse of a girl."
Lily is beginning to cry a little bit, and Peter is starting to think that he likes to do this to her. He likes knowing he had the power to put the tears that are rolling down her face there.
"I don't have to listen to this." She says quietly, "I can't see why James wastes his time being nice to you. You aren't worth his pity."
She leaves, and Peter is unfazed. He's gotten to her, he knows he has, and he already knew that James felt sorry for him.
He thinks of the world in terms of winning and losing and, in this case, Wormtail has won.
Peter is rather upset. He's just gotten something by post- something white and frilly. It's a wedding invitation, of all things. James is marrying Lily and it makes him sick. He takes the letter to Voldemort. He thinks it's funny. He would like very much to go to the wedding. It will be filled with aurors, aurors whom he'd like very much to get his hands on. But he can't, as it is also at Hogwarts and being presided over by Dumbledore. He says Peter should go. Peter does go, but he thinks he'd rather die.
He watches in disgust. There's James, looking so nervous, and there's Lily, pretending to be all soft and innocent when Peter knows how much she isn't. There's Sirius, his hair slicked back and already getting drunk off the stuff he thinks nobody notices is hidden up his sleeve. There's Remus, obviously hoping that nobody recognizes him. Peter is reminded strongly of why he was so glad to leave this place.
The ceremony is over and Peter, after grabbing some hor d'oeuvres (and failing to impress the very pretty witch who served them), is ready to leave. He has been sufficiently sickened for today.
As he tries to slip out, he feels a hand rest lightly on his shoulder. He turns around, expecting to see Dumbledore's unsettling blue eyes. The man has been bothering him lately, as though he might know something….
But no. It's Lily.
"Did you want something, Evans?" Peter asks coolly. Lily laughs forcedly.
"Can't call me that now." She says in a game sort of way, "It's Potter isn't it?"
Peter stares. He refuses to use the name.
"Look, Peter." Lily says, dropping all pretenses, "You hurt me very badly by some of the things that you said in our seventh year. But now I look back and I think that…well, I think you were right. And you forced me to change how I look at myself, to be a better girlfriend to James."
Peter can't understand why she insists upon acting so all knowing and mature. He might hate her a little less if she acted like a normal person. Hell, he'd hate her less if she punched him in the eye. But it makes his skin crawl to see the hopeful way she's looking at him.
"And I think that we both care very much about James." She continued. "I think it would be one of the best gifts we could give him, to at least…at least try to be friends." She smiles crookedly at him. And what's he going to say? He says yes, of course, each word feeling like poison stinging his lips. Her arms as they wrap around him in an awkward hug burn like white-hot pokers. He is finally allowed to escape as she turns around to respond to Sirius's very drunk demands that she and James start snogging already.
And Wormtail feels as though he's lost the upper hand. He knows he never wants to put a stupid smile on her stupid face again.
Sometimes Peter has trouble comprehending what he's done.
It's actually very easy to betray your friends, what with Bellatrix's hand in your hair, and Lucius's voice in your ear, and above all that, Voldemort showing you some of those very pointy weapons on his wall…
But it's very hard to accept it, once it's all said and done. His hands are very very shaky, and he keeps slopping his firewhiskey down the front of his robes. Voldemort had invited him to come and watch, come and see what would happen. It had been Lily that Peter had come to see, truth be told. He had had an unhealthy obsession with her, seeing her white skin contrasting with crimson blood in his dreams. Every word she'd ever said to him, they stabbed his ears all through the night like daggers. And he'd been fool enough to think that seeing her dead would put him at ease, make her stop haunting him.
He was wrong. He knows now that it was incredibly stupid. He'd gone in after he assumed Voldemort was done, and found the house empty. Voldemort had completely disappeared. But on the floor was James, and his face was twisted in concentration, the look he always had when he was trying to think very fast. Peter knew that James had figured out that he had betrayed him. James always knew that sort of thing.
Lily was worse. Her eyes were open, but her expression wasn't one of fear. It was of love, utmost care and devotion. The sort of love that Peter has never known. Love for that idiotic crying bundle in the corner of the room.
Peter tries to take another drink.
That baby, the one all this fuss was about, he'd still been alive. He'd wanted to kill it, but then it had looked at him, and he'd seen Lily's eyes staring at him accusingly. Peter has never felt horror as great as that. He'd nearly broken his neck stumbling away from the house as fast as he could. He'd set it on fire, praying to whatever was out there that the baby would die.
Peter can't savor the warmth that the firewhiskey provides him from the cold air around him. Whatever is out there, it's waiting for him to die, waiting to give justice for his betrayal.
"I'm not going to die." Peter slurs, "I'm not like them. They were weak. Weak!"
He yells it into the night air. He tries to take another gulp, but the bottle is empty. He stumbles away.
For many years later, he is very aware of the price that he will pay one day. Retribution, he knows, is very powerful. He thinks that Lily's eyes are watching him, as his watched her so many years ago.
And he knows it's true when he sees an eleven-year-old Harry. James's son, the same age that his father had been when he and Peter had become friends. A Harry as strong as his parents were. A boy with Lily Evans's very green eyes.
Someone who proves once and for all, that Wormtail has lost everything.