Peter Pettigrew was beginning to believe—genuinely, wholeheartedly—that someone had hexed his soul.
Not hexed him.
Not hexed his body.
Hexed his soul, in some cosmic, universal, irreversible way.
Because there was simply no other explanation for the past four weeks.
He crouched beneath a spindly pine tree on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, shivering in the bitter October wind, his clothes half-ruined from travel, his stomach growling like a starved ghoul.
Across their makeshift campfire, the Carrow twins huddled under stolen cloaks, bickering quietly while Bellatrix Lestrange sat half-dazed against a stump, her hair a frazzled cloud of dark curls gone wild without access to a single mirror or proper wash.
And all of them—all of them—were looking at Peter like this was his fault somehow.
Which was supremely unfair.
"All right," Alecto hissed through chattering teeth, "explain to me again how you ended up electrocuted by a herd of bowtruckles?"
Peter winced.
"It wasn't—it wasn't my fault," he muttered. "How was I supposed to know they'd nested inside the log I was hiding under?"
Amycus snorted. "Maybe because the log was moving?"
Bellatrix gave a hollow laugh. "The forest hates us."
"No," Alecto muttered viciously, "the forest hates him."
Peter bristled. "I'm doing my best!"
"Your best," Bellatrix said dreamily, "has gotten you chased by mooncalves, dive-bombed by fairies, pelted by pixies, and struck blind by a swarm of disoriented doxies."
"That was one time!"
"And thanks to that, we still havent managed to find a way within fifty feet of the castle." Alecto snapped.
Peter flinched.
Because that part was true.
Every single attempt—every reconnaissance sweep, every nighttime approach, every desperate crawl across the grounds—had ended the same way:
Disaster.
Horrible, random, inexplicable disaster.
He couldn't explain it.
Random pitfalls.
Wind gusts that blew him in his animagus form as if he'd been picked up by a tornado tossing him back where he'd started.
Trees that fell on him.
Animals that chased him.
Branches that snapped at the worst possible moments, alerting students and staff to his presence.
A swarm of glowing, shrieking fairy-things that clung to him like glittering curses.
And twice—TWICE—he'd ended up falling face-first into mud for absolutely no reason, like he's simply tripped on his own feet like some kind of clutz.
He'd begun to suspect that fate itself hated him.
But the truth—unknown to him—was far worse:
Cassius Snape had noticed him.
And Cassius Snape had a twisted sense of humor, infinite free time, thanks to his bearing of a Time Turner and access to more chaos prank magic than the Ministry could categorize.
Peter rubbed his cold hands together and hunched deeper into his cloak.
"Look," he said miserably, "we need supplies. We're almost out of food, and winter is fast approaching we'll need warm clothes—"
"And out of patience," Alecto growled.
Bellatrix's eyes glittered with manic exhaustion.
"Perhaps," she murmured, "we eat the rat?"
Peter squeaked, horrified.
Amycus snorted. "Calm down, Bella. We're not eating Wormtail."
"Yet," Bellatrix whispered.
Peter edged away.
This was fine.
Totally fine.
Not terrifying at all.
He cleared his throat. "We—we should go into Hogsmeade."
The twins stared.
Bellatrix blinked slowly.
"You mean," Amycus said, "a pure wizarding village who all know our faces as escaped fugitives?"
"Disguised!" Peter insisted. "Under glamour charms. Cloaked. Hooded. Just long enough to get supplies. It's the only way. We can't camp out here forever!"
The others exchanged looks.
Dark looks.
Dangerous looks.
And then, finally, slowly, the Carrows nodded.
Bellatrix cracked her neck.
"Fine," she murmured. "But if anything goes wrong…"
She stared right at him.
"I'm blaming you."
Peter swallowed.
Hard.
"Nothing will go wrong," he lied confidently.
He hoped the universe wasn't listening.
~
Hogsmeade — Later That Afternoon
Peter didn't know who had invented glamour charms but he wanted to kiss them.
Under a thick wool cloak, glamour-altered face, and identity-scrambled aura, he finally—finally—felt almost safe.
No one spared him a second glance.
Not one.
He could breathe.
He was back to how things were back when he was a student, completly unnoticeable, practically invisible even without using a disillusionment charm.
The four of them slipped quietly past the Hog's Head, planning to circle toward the general store first.
Just a quick stop.
Confundus the teller, grab supplies, and leave before anyone noticed.
Amycus muttered under his breath, "See? Easy."
Peter exhaled shakily.
Yes.
Easy.
Maybe his curse was finally fading—
Only for the door of the Three Broomsticks to be slammed open.
Peter froze.
Sirius Black stepped out onto the street.
Right behind him—
Remus Lupin.
Peter's heart stopped.
His feet didn't.
They sprinted.
Immediately.
Instinctively.
Without conscious thought.
Behind him, the others had already bolted, cloaks billowing, glamours flickering as panic spiked their magic.
"What—Peter—WAIT—!" Alecto hissed, already running.
Sirius startled. "Oi! You see that?"
Remus squinted. "Four cloaked figures sprinting away from us the moment we step outside?"
Sirius grinned wolfishly. "Suspicious."
"Very."
Sirius reached for his wand.
Peter put on speed he didn't know his legs were capable of in his weakened, exhausted state.
Twisting down the nearest alley, skidding on dirt path, barely catching himself on a broken barrel as he launched himself forward.
"MOVE MOVE MOVE—"
Bellatrix shoved him. "Stop yelling, you idiot!"
They burst from the alley into a narrow back lane.
~
Behind them:
"Remus," Sirius said, "was that what I think it was?"
"I think so."
"Should we call for backup?"
"No. Let's follow quietly. Cassius said—"
Peter didn't hear the rest.
He was too busy tripping.
Again.
On air.
He hit the ground with a squeal, skidding across slush.
"Get UP!" Amycus hissed, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him to his feet.
Peter scrambled desperately, cloak flapping wildly as they tore across the village outskirts, slipping past Honeydukes, dodging behind the Shrieking Shack's fence, and vanishing into the tree line.
Only when they were deep into the forest did Peter collapse, gasping, trembling, pulling at his cloak like it was suffocating him.
Bellatrix paced in furious circles, tearing at her hair.
"They followed us," she snarled. "They SAW us."
"No—no—no," Peter said quickly. "Just—glimpses. Just shadows. Our glamours held. They don't know it was us."
Alecto hissed, "Why did you RUN?"
"BECAUSE I PANICKED!"
Amycus groaned loudly. "Of course he panicked."
But Bellatrix had gone still.
Completely still.
A deadly kind of still.
"Perhaps he really is cursed?" she said softly, "Running into Black and Lupin two people who'd be able to recognize him at a mere glance? The first time we go into the village..."
~
At the Same Time — Within Hogsmede Village
"See anything?" Sirius called out as his head darted around trying to catch a further glimpse of the targets he was chasing.
"No? They must have apparated away..." Lupin replied looking downcast.
"Damn... Those four were sure suspicious, afterall who is out in the middle of the day, wearing full cloaks and covering their faces?"
"Could it be Cassius knew about this?"
"Mooney are you serious right now, we may have enhanced that map but-" Sirius stopped talking as he tried to wave it off. "Wait now that i think of it, it was odd, how he came to use questioning why we werent going out drinking on a weekend even though it was pretty early... I mean not that i need an excuse but still..."
"Yeah that's what i was thinking, what if he saw something on the map, and then got us to come here to run into those... unwanted elements?"