All The Young Dudes - Peter Pettigrew

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/37317772.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Category: F/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter
Character: Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, James Potter, Marlene McKinnon, Remus
Lupin, Mary Macdonald, Lily Evans Potter
Additional Tags: Young Peter Pettigrew, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mental Health
Issues, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Peter is a Little Shit, POV
Peter Pettigrew, Young James Potter, Jealousy, Jealous Peter, Daddy
Issues, Wizard's Chess (Harry Potter), Sirius Black is a Little Shit,
Young Remus Lupin, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by All
the Young Dudes - MsKingBean89, Original Character(s), several major
character's death, peter tried really hard to love himself, it didnt work,
Sad Ending, Depression, Guilt, all my friends are dead
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2022-02-22 Updated: 2023-03-17 Words: 19,730 Chapters:
9/?

All The Young Dudes - Peter Pettigrew

by landofscots25

Summary

This is my interpretation of MsKingBean89's All The Young Dudes, from the perspective
of Peter Pettigrew. The storyline from ATYD is completely theirs, and I am not trying to
copy in any way. I am simply trying to offer a new perspective to their work of art. If you
haven't read the original, please read that first.
so pardon my shit spelling, grammar, and overall story
Full disclosure: this might take a while to finish. Peter's name is mentioned 500 times in the
first 4 years, while James' is 1,300 and Sirius' name is mentioned 1,800. (naturally, Remus
is topping it at 2,800) So what I mean is that I have a lot of gaps to fill, and I will do my
very best to fill them.
i am not British so unfortunately for us all this will be in American English sorry

Notes

Peter and I have many different perspectives, by the way. I do not agree with him on
MANY things, but since they are canon in ATYD, I'll do my best to show his perspective
on life
i hope you don't hate it
Inspired by All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89
 The Letter

Hi :)

Not that there's anyone reading this, but this is my first fanfic on Ao3 and I'm still figuring out the
format.

This is my interpretation of MsKingBean89's All The Young Dudes, from the perspective of Peter
Pettigrew.

Since Peter’s parents didn’t have names, I made some up like a cool kid. also, I'm using *american
english* so pardon my shit spelling, grammar, and overall story

Full disclosure: this might take a while to finish. Peter's name is mentioned 500 times in the first 4
years, while James' is 1,300 and Sirius' name is mentioned 1,800. (naturally, Remus is topping it at
2,800) So what I mean is that I have a lot of gaps to fill, and I will do my very best to fill them.

Personally, I relate to young Peter quite a lot, and I'm in a writing fever right now so...

let's see how far I get before I breakdown from stress

- ace

August 9, 1971

Peter’s letter came on August 9th, 1971. Philomena had handed it to him with a big smile, and
Peter smiled back just as wide.

His Hogwarts acceptance letter was a cause for celebration in his family. His mum, Katherine, had
made waffles and scrambled eggs, Peter’s favorite. His dad had glanced up from his newspaper and
nodded at him. Peter’s heart swelled at the acknowledgment.

Peter’s dad was not an affectionate man. Davin Pettigrew was hard to please, distant and frankly,
Peter wasn’t even sure his father liked him, let alone loved. There was one exception to Davin’s
cold heart. James Potter. James, Peter’s best friend and the coolest person alive. Peter couldn't
really blame his dad for liking James better than him. James was just… better than him. James was
taller and nicer, and definitely nicer looking. He was more outgoing and funny than Peter too. But
despite being so much better than him, James still liked being around Peter, so he was fine with the
jealousy, the hurt, and the longing for love that he wished he deserved. James got along with
Peter’s dad as if they were actually related. They practiced quidditch together, they played chess
together. Davin Pettigrew was talented at chess. He taught James how to play, and James taught
Peter. From that day on, Peter tried to play James and Philomena every day. Maybe, just maybe,
Peter thought, Dad will see me play and be proud of me. Wouldn’t that be worth it?

“Oh dear, I’m so excited for you! I’m glad you aren’t a squib like your cousin Andrew,” Katherine
smiled at Peter, and he grinned brightly. At least I’m not a squib, Peter’s mind snarled at him in its
usual manner, because they wouldn’t love me if I wasn’t.

Peter was snapped out of his thoughts when the Potter’s owl crashed through the window. She
squawked loudly and landed in front of him at the breakfast table, spoiling his heaping of eggs.
She dropped the letter in its beak into his lap, then flew out of the window.
“Drama queen, that Patter.” Philomena sighed, shaking her head. Patter was the owl’s name. One
of James’ fatal flaws was naming things. He named it Patter because he spelled Potter wrong. He
had a stuffed animal of a bear named Berry, for goodness sake. Bear -> Beary -> Berry. (Peter had
even suggested the last part! James would’ve left it at Beary!)

Peter, however, was excellent at naming things. He’d sit in his room in the middle of the night and
list out ideas. He wanted to have a daughter when he grew up. He wanted to treat her better than
Philomena had been. He was going to name her Ellie. Ellie Pettigrew. Peter smiled to himself as he
thought about it. Ellie would be best friends with James’ boy, and the two families would be
neighbors.

“Open your letter, son. Don’t keep James waiting.” Peter’s dad glanced up from the Daily Prophet
once more, narrowing his eyes at his son. He had that same spiteful expression whenever he
regarded Peter, but he wouldn’t let that ruin this moment. Peter nodded and ripped the envelope
open.

PETE!!!

I got my letter!!!!!!

I’m headed to Hogwarts!!!!!! Have you gotten yours?? I hope so!!

Send Wyvern!! Tell mE pLEAse I’m dyInG of exciteMent!!!!

jAmEs PotTer

Peter let out another breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Another reason to thank merlin that he
got his letter. James’ chicken-scrawl got progressively worse through the letter, he must’ve been
vibrating from joy. Lucky.

“What’d he say, son?” Davin asked, clearly interested for once.

“He got his letter, and he wants to know if I got mine,” Peter said, trying not to wince at the sound
of his voice. He’d never liked it, the high-pitched and squeaky voice he had. He used to look at
himself in the mirror and speak at the same time, hoping he’d connect his voice to himself just one
time. It never felt like his.

“How wonderful! I’ll get Wyvern!” His mother beamed and hustled out of the kitchen. Peter
watched her quietly as she favored her left leg. Last night must’ve been rough. Dad got really drunk
and he- he wasn’t peaceful to his wife when he was. She used to come downstairs for breakfast and
be littered in bruises. Then Philomena taught her how to cover them with a spell. Philomena and
Katherine were much closer than Peter was to any of them. Peter had always felt like a puzzle
piece in the wrong box. No matter how many times you bash it next to one of the right pieces, it’s
never really going to fit.

“Pete, wanna come up to my room and listen to the Beatles?” Philomena offered kindly.

“Alright, but let me send the letter first.” Peter shrugged, standing up to dump his eggs into the
trash. Philomena stared at him, studying his face, but Peter refused to break character. The aloof,
dedicated younger brother that she thought she had needed to stick around. Philomena waited
patiently, and he turned back to her and faked a grin. His smile felt genuine, which mildly
surprised him. Maybe I’ve tricked them so many times that I’ve tricked myself, Peter thought.

His mother crashed back into the room at that moment, holding his owl, Wyvern, by the leg like a
sack of meat. His poor owl was thrashing around desperately, and Peter watched its struggle
guiltily.

“Thanks, mum. I’ll write it now.” Katherine smiled at him, grateful to have done something useful.
Peter grabbed an old quill and parchment from a drawer.

Hey James,

I got my letter! We’re going to Hogwarts!

I’m excited too! Mum said that she’s happy we’re going together because we’ll be able to tackle
the world as a team.

She hadn’t said that, of course, but James would never know. And Peter wanted to make sure that
he and James stayed together, no matter what. If James, incredible, flawless James, couldn’t be his
friend, who would?

Maybe we should go shopping for our school supplies together. I need some new quills, and we
need to get those textbooks.

Want to go on Wednesday?

It was Monday today, and this would give James enough time to reply without feeling like he was
forced to cancel at the last minute. Peter signed the letter and handed Wyvern the letter, and the
tawny owl took off, clumsily and with haste. Even Wyvern knew it was better at the Potter’s.

“Okay, Pete. Are you ready?” Philomena asked, swishing her hair over her shoulder. Peter grinned
at her and nodded. He liked the Beatles, even though James said it was a girly band sometimes.

The two of them scampered up the stairs, Philomena in the front. Her long hair swished in front of
his face. Peter tried not to sneeze when it swished into his face. Philomena threw her door open
with her left hand, reminding Peter once more that his sister was left-handed.

Philomena’s room was covered in tasteful magazine posters, strawberry-colored pillows, and
blankets scattered around tastefully. Philomena had an absurd talent when it came to interior
decorating. She used to joke that it was her true calling, and being a witch was a side quest. She
didn’t joke about it anymore.

“Let it be?” Philomena asked, walking to her record player.

“Yeah, sure.” Peter shrugged, sitting down on her soft carpet, watching Philomena smile and place
the record on. The soft grooves of the song started, calming Peter’s anxiety. About his dad, about
his mum and sister, about James, and especially about Hogwarts.

And when the broken-hearted people

Living in the world agree

There will be an answer, let it be

Peter smiled to himself, playing with the thread of his shirt. Philomena sat beside him and they
sang along. Philomena’s voice sounded much better than his, as usual.

For though they may be parted

There is still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer, let it be

Peter looked at his sister and felt an overwhelming calm. He didn't want this moment to end. Later
in his life, when times were... darker, he'd look back at this memory for comfort. In this miniature
snapshot of his life, Peter felt like he belonged.

*~*

September 1, 1971

2:43 AM

Peter sat on his bed in his room, alone. He pushed his chair to hold the door closed. He had been
procrastinating to pack his things for the train and was now rushing to get it all done. He was
trying on his clothes, seeing what still fit (because he hadn't been shopping in years). He found his
mind wandering to the bad place, with him, again. He was the personification that Peter gave his
intrusive thoughts because it was easier to accept that someone else thought that about you, than
facing that it was you.

Our dorm mates will find you boring, his voice whispered. Our classmates will think you're
lame. Whatever house you're in, you won't be liked. They'll wish you were someone else.
Someone fun and interesting. Like James.

Peter frowned, stuffing his sweater into his luggage. He told himself he'd be alright. Peter was
likable and could be a good laugh. His roommates would tolerate him at the very least. He just had
to focus on the good. Speaking of which...

Peter turned to his desk, wincing when he saw the grayish journal under a pile of splintered quills.
Peter walked to it and brushed the quills off. He flipped the cover open, reading the note on the
first page.

This is Peter’s notebook, please keep out. That means you too, James!

Peter remembered writing that line with a big smile, feeling mischief and troublesome, happy and
playful. He read it with a void in his chest, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. He flipped to the
next page, which read,

Really. Get out.

He didn’t write that when he was happy, Peter recalled.

The next page was honest, for once. The words that Peter had written were smudged slightly as if
he’d tried to wipe them away with his hand. He had.

Hello Peter.

Welcome to your book of poems.

Your book of untold stories and thoughts, not all of them grand.

Have a good stay, and remember that you are a good person too.

This next part was even more smudged because as soon as he wrote them, he’d scrubbed at them
frantically, desperate to unthink and unwrite the thoughts they stirred in him.

Just because James is perfect doesn’t mean he’s good.

Shame swelled in Peter’s chest again when he read those words. James was good, he was grand
and kind, like a piece of art. James would never feel that or say that about him, he was better than
Peter.

Peter scowled at himself, angry at who he was. Angry for what he felt, angry for everything, all at
once. He flipped to the next empty page and wrote slowly, the words coming to him like lottery
numbers.

I would wish that I was loved.

But the reality is that I don’t deserve to be.

I don’t wish I was loved, I wish I was worthy of it.

Peter closed the journal, not letting the ink dry. This book was so precious to him, like a shrine of
his soul, but he hated it all the same. He hated how it showed him, all the dark parts. The parts he
didn’t like. Most of him, really, was what he didn’t like.

Peter threw the book into his luggage. He’d be screwed if he forgot it, with nowhere to enclose and
seal away the rotting parts of him. He’d become a rotten person if he forgot it.

A sudden burst of fear bloomed in his heart. What if his dorm mates at Hogwarts read it? What
would they think of him?

“What am I saying, I’ll be at Hogwarts! I can learn a locking charm,” Peter sighed to himself,
trying to cool his sudden spike of adrenaline.

"And I’ll be the best wizard ever. Better than anybody.” Peter promised to himself. Better than
James.
 The Hogwarts Express, First Year

September 1, 1971

8:31 AM

“Come on, Pete! We can start loading on the train now!” James exclaimed, practically glowing
from excitement. Peter walked behind him, smiling at his friend. Peter watched the way James’
hair stuck out about his face and moved like a whole organism. He was so lucky. Peter’s hair was
measly blonde and stuck to his head as if it was taped on. Peter shook his head, forcing himself to
laugh.

“Cool it, Potter! We don’t need to be the very first on the train!”

James raced past him, blatantly ignoring Peter’s words. Peter ignored the irritation and followed
him, dragging his cart behind him. James’ dad, Mr. Potter, trailed behind the two of them, a big
smile on his kind face and a newspaper folded under his arm. Mr. Potter had volunteered to take
the two boys to the train, and to no surprise to Peter, his parents had happily stepped back.

“Peter dear, don’t let James out of your sight! I worry that he’ll get lost in this sea of people!” Mrs.
Potter said from beside her husband, smiling brightly at Peter. Peter nodded at her and started
walking faster, following James’ messy head of hair through the crowd.

Peter weaved through the crowd, dodging mean old women and other kids who looked his age. He
accidentally met eyes with a girl, and tried not to die from embarrassment. She was pretty, with
dark hair and gray eyes. She was shorter than him by an inch or two, and she grinned at him
brightly, as if all the bad in the world just… wasn’t there. She was weird. Peter kept walking.

James had stopped outside of the train door, staring up at it like an awestruck child. Which Peter
supposed he was, but still, how immature of him. James was as rigid as a statue, and Peter finally
caught up to him, whacking him in the back of the head with a loose hand.

“Oi!” James cried out, annoyed. He rubbed the back of his head and glared daggers at Peter, who
laughed happily.

“Your parents would go bonkers if you boarded without saying goodbye,” Peter said, in full
knowledge that his own parents hadn’t bothered to come.

“Jeepers, you’re right! C’mon, let’s go get them.”

James started walking back, dragging his trunk still. Peter followed him again, watching his feet as
he maneuvered through the mob.

“Bye Mum! I love you so much!”

Peter looked up to see James throwing his arms around his mother’s neck, and he smiled. James’
dad hugged him too once James had let go of his mum.

Mrs. Potter turned to Peter and stretched her arms out in a welcoming stance, a wide smile on her
face. Peter smiled at her and accepted the hug, holding it for a millisecond longer than he usually
did, wishing his own mother would hug him like that.

“We love you boys so much,” Mrs. Potter said, releasing him from the hug. She sent a pointed look
at the two of them, saying, “No matter what house you’re in, alright? I hope you two get to stay
together, and you become great friends with your dorm mates!”

“Thank you,” Peter said politely.

“Thanks Mum! Love you guys!” James exclaimed, yanking Peter back to the train and waving
frantically to his parents with his other hand.

“Take care!” Mrs. Potter called, and her husband lifted his hand beside her, shouting out something
too.

“Don’t cause a ruckus!” As if.

James sent Peter a knowing glance, and the two of them cackled together, heading into the
Hogwarts express.

Their luggage vanished from their hands when they stepped aboard, and James grinned at Peter,
exclaiming,

“Magic!”

Peter laughed at him sarcastically.

“No! Really! I’d never dreamed there’d be magic at Hogwarts!”

“Yeah yeah, yuk it up.” James rolled his eyes, still unable to contain his excitement. Peter was
excited too, of course, he thought, just not in the same way. James got excited like boiling water,
bubbling all over and steaming at the ears. Peter, well, he wasn’t sure how he got excited but it had
to be different.

The two boys walked through the train, and Peter watched James peek into every compartment,
most likely judging who to sit with. He stopped, for a brief moment, and glanced back at Peter.

“This bloke looks fun,” he said, a sly smile on his face. He reached over and tapped the door
lightly. James swung the door open, smiling widely.

There was a boy in there who looked their age, with short brown hair and hand-me-down clothes.
He was spread out like a delinquent on the booth seats, slouching and grumpy-faced. He watched
James with an odd sort of interest, and Peter shrunk into himself a little. He mustn't look very
impressive right now, at least five inches shorter than James.

“Hiya! First-year? Me too, I’m James,” James said, holding his hand out for the boy to shake. The
boy grudgingly obliged, looking more comfortable once he started shaking James’ hand. James
kept talking, “This is Peter,” he said because god forbid Peter introduce his own name.

“Remus,” the boy said. That’s an odd name, Peter thought, watching his face again. Just then the
train lurched under their feet, and Peter felt himself get queasy. He hated train rides.

“Can we sit here? Everywhere else is full and Peter’s getting train sick,” James said, and Peter
scowled.

“Am not,” he said, sitting down before his knees were too wobbly to stand. He glanced at Remus,
feeling that nervous coil in his stomach again. Peter looked down into his lap, rubbing his hands
together, thinking, gosh, this is nerve-wracking. Remus is kind of scary. James seems to like him,
though.
“Know what house you’ll be in?” James said, his eyes not leaving Remus, who looked confused at
the question. He shook his head, but James kept going. “What were your parents in? Did they go to
Hogwarts?”

Peter stared behind Remus’s head. The fabric of the booth reached about 10 inches above his head,
and Peter wondered if he’d ever be tall enough to have his head above it if he was sitting. He tuned
out of the conversation, studying the soft red and black pattern of the cushion.

“--mum didn’t. She was nor—a muggle.” Remus had been saying, and Peter snapped back into the
conversation.

“You’re a half-blood?” Peter heard his voice say, and at once winced at the sound. Remus
shrugged, and James elbowed him.

“Shut up, Pettigrew. As if it even matters.” James said, and Peter tried not to flinch at his words.
He hadn’t meant it like that, James had to know that.

Just then, the door opened, and a boy their age cruised in, silver eyes and black hair. An ego as
large as a mountain, Peter could tell.

“None of you are related to me, are you?” The boy asked, and Peter stared at him blankly, not sure
what to say.

“Don’t think so.” James said instantly, sticking out his hand, “James Potter.”

“Oh good, a Potter. Dad told me not to talk to you.” He sat down right next to Remus, and smiled
at the three of them cockily, “Sirius Black.”

Peter studied his face quietly, tuning out the conversation that instantly ensued amongst the other
three. He didn't like Sirius Black, he decided quietly. His presence was loud and daring, like an off-
key trumpet. Remus was like a bass guitar, deep and sullen, thudding in your chest. James was like
a saxophone, smooth and comforting. Peter didn't know what instrument he was, but he hoped it
wasn't a flute.

Okay I'm sorry this chapter was shorter, but I wanted to make the sorting hat chapter stand on it's
own (Peter's a clarinet)

Anyway, I hope whoever may be reading this has a lovely day!

p.s. I can't find Peter's birthday anywhere. he has no celebrated birthday in ATYD and I'm finding
nothing on google (Wikipedia is wrong, there's no way he was born in 1950) so i might just make
one up, thinking April or February
 The Sorting, First Year
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The moment they left the carriage, chaos ensued. The enormous crowd of people swept Peter
through the hall. He got shoved against a rickety door by the crowd, and was rendered unmovable
for several seconds by the swarm. Just then, James appeared, yanking Peter from the spot he was
stuck in and grinning at him.

“Blimey, this is wild!” James said, wrapping his arm around Peter protectively. Peter was grateful
for James again, a rush of relief surging through him. They were directed out of the train, and
nobody bothered with their bags. There were people yelling and a giant fellow guided the first
years into rickety boats.

Peter sat down next to James, and they marveled at the sight of the mighty castle of Hogwarts
together. Peter wanted to remember this moment forever. The stars in the sky were glowing
brighter than he’d ever seen them before. Probably due to the lack of light pollution from muggle
cities, which made the sky a muddy dark, blotching out the stars. There were giant trees on the
edge of the lake, cutting into the sky like jagged blades of grass.

“Hi! I’m James! This is Peter,” James said, introducing them to the other kids in their boat.
Unfortunately Remus and Sirius weren’t with them, Peter wasn’t sure where they’d ended up after
the mob scene. Peter looked away from the sky and down to their boatmates, a blonde girl with a
frown and a smaller boy with loads of freckles.

“I’m Marlene McKinnon,” The girl answered, her expression lightening.

“Simon!” The freckled boy grinned at them. There ya go, James. Making friends like your life
counts on it. Peter smiled, nodding at the others.

“Wait, wait. Are you Danny McKinnon’s little sister?” James was staring at Marlene with wide
eyes.

“Yeah, he’s my brother.” She seemed proud of that, puffing out her chest at the recognition.

“Who’s that?” Peter felt dumb for asking, especially when James scoffed in return.

“He’s the newest draft for the Chudley Cannons! I heard he’s an amazing player!” James said, still
awestruck at Marlene.

“He is. He’s been helping me learn to play, too. I’m going to be a beater in my house.” Marlene
boasted.

“Oh ye, what ’ouse do ya think ye’ll get in?” Simon asked, bursting back into the conversation. He
had an accent that Peter couldn’t place, and a funny way of talking that made him smile.
Sometimes being around people who spoke too articulately could be tiring.

“Pff, obviously Gryffindor.” James and Marlene said, in perfect sync with each other.

“Right on! Wha’ bout yerself, Petah?” Simon slapped his knee, in a rather ‘country boy’ style. He
probably grew up far from a city, Peter thought. Peter snapped out of his thoughts when he finally
registered that ‘petah’ meant him.
“Hm? Me? Oh, right. I’d like to be in Gryffindor, too.” Peter answered, glancing shyly up at James
and Marlene, who nodded approvingly.

“Yeah, you better believe that me and Pete are sticking together like glue!” James joked, “He
couldn’t get rid of me if he tried!” The group responded with a lighthearted laugh, and Peter felt a
rush of joy. Yes, James. Wherever you go I am ready to follow. Peter loved belonging to James.
Being his best friend.

*~*

Peter and James split up from Simon and Marlene when they got off the boats, walking down a
castle corridor into a beautiful hall. There was a spell that had been cast on the ceiling, reflecting
the night sky. It looked incredible. There were so many people in there, crowded onto the four
house tables. The crowd of first years moved through the hall in a mob, coming to a stop before a
woman with light brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, with an official expression. She was
standing next to a stool with a measly-looking hat in her hands.

The first kid called up was the boy Simon from the boat. He loped up to the hat easily, sat down
with an ‘oomph’ like motion, and in a mere moment, the hat had called “Hufflepuff!”

Peter knew he was in the P’s in the alphabet, so he tuned out for a moment. Peter snapped back in
when there was a tremendous cry of disapproval from the Slytherin table. The kid they were
booing at was Sirius Black, the boy from the train. He was going to Gryffindor. Peter returned to
his state of disinterest for several more minutes. Remus Lupin got into Gryffindor too, he noticed.

Finally, his name was called.

Peter walked through the crowd and sat on the rickety chair. The woman put the hat on his head,
and it whispered quietly to him.

“Hmm,” the hat said, “you’re rather strange. Very kind, perhaps you’d do well in Hufflepuff?”

No! Peter thought, I want to be in Gryffindor! That’s where James is going!

“Are you sure? Hufflepuff’s loyalty may be what’s best for you in the long run.” The hat
responded.

Please, no. Hufflepuff kids are so boring. I don’t want to be in Hufflepuff. I want to learn how to be
brave!

“Kids go to Gryffindor because they already possess bravery.”

I refuse to go to Hufflepuff. Peter held his ground. “Alright, I'll have to put you in…”

It felt like an eternity before the hat finished its sentence.

“Gryffindor!”

A rush of pride surged in his chest. I did it! Peter smiled at James, who practically beamed at him.

Peter rushed to the Gryffindor table, high-fiving some older kids and plopping himself down near a
red-haired girl, who had a sad expression, and Sirius and Remus. A moment later James got sorted
into Gryffindor too, and he sat down with them, grinning.

“How great is that! We all made it!”

Sirius groaned, his voice muffled because his face was covered by his forearm on the table.

“Speak for yourself. My father’s going to kill me.”

Do they know that the hat didn’t want me here? What if what I did wasn’t allowed? Are they going
to come get me and make me go to Hufflepuff? Peter thought to himself anxiously, glancing
around.

“I can’t believe it,” Peter said, looking at the other boys. I’m happy I’m here but do I deserve it?

Remus was staring at him with an odd expression, like he was sizing him up. The stern-faced
woman came to their table and put her hand on Remus’ shoulder, snapping his attention away from
Peter.

“Mr. Lupin,” she said, but Peter couldn’t hear the rest. Remus nodded when she was done and she
left.

“What was that about? McGonagall wants to see you already?” James asked. The woman must’ve
been the famous Professor McGonagall that Peter had heard about from Philomena. According to
her, McGonagall was strict but iconic.

The three boys looked at Remus curiously. Sirius even lifted his head. Remus shrugged, and a
minute later the food appeared.

They all dug in happily. The food was delicious, and Peter loved the roasted potatoes, they were
incredibly good. He made a mental note to recommend this style to his mother.

The prefects led the first years up to the Gryffindor common room. Peter marveled at how the
stairs moved on their own, and he instantly knew that navigating them would be a major problem
for him. Remus left, off to McGonagall’s, and Peter followed the crowd to the dorms. He was
exhausted.

Peter got roomed with Remus, Sirius, and James. Hurray, he thought. I’m part of the gang.

James walked out, to Godric knows where, Peter didn’t care. He left Sirius with his identity crisis
and started to unpack his things.

After a little while, Peter realized that he had no idea where his wand was. Oh no, it’s not even the
first day and I’ve already lost it! My dad is going to be so mad. Fear wrapped itself around Peter’s
chest and he thought of the expression on his father’s face when Peter told him that he’d lost his
wand.

Peter scrambled through his things, fumbling and stressing. Sirius was still sitting on his bed still,
spacing out. Peter didn’t want to bother him but it was kind of annoying how he was just sitting
there. Lazy prat.

James and Remus finally came back into the dorm. Peter felt like he was going to cry.

“I can’t find my wand! Mum made me pack it so I wouldn’t lose it on the train, but it’s not here!”

James grinned at him, teasing and comforting all in one.

“Pete, your mum asked me to look after it, remember?” Peter exhaled, relieved.

The attention in the room shifted to Sirius, who was still wallowing in misery.
“Cheer up, mate,” James said, sitting next to him on the bed, “You didn’t want to be in Slytherin
anyway, did you?”

“Five hundred years.” Sirius answered, mopily, “Every Black at Hogwarts has been sorted into
Slytherin for five hundred years.”

“Well, it’s about time someone tried to be different, eh?” James slapped him on the back, trying to
brighten the mood.

Remus and Sirius started unpacking quietly, turning away from the group. Sirius started pulling out
a crazy number of books, and James grinned at him.

“You know,” James said, “There is a library here.”

“I know, but these are mostly muggle books. My Uncle Alphard left them to me, and mum would
set them all on fire if I left them at home.” Sirius said, grinning. He seemed to be in a slightly better
mood.

“Is that Abbey Road?!” Remus asked Sirius, who smiled wider.

“Yeah. You must be muggle-born.” Sirius said, “Never met a wizard who knows the Beatles –
except my cousin, Andromeda. She bought them for me.” Peter said nothing, despite his extended
knowledge of the Beatles. It’s better to listen and learn about my new dorm mates.

“I love The Beatles, one of the boys in my room at home’s got at least ten singles, but he never lets
me touch them.”

“Boys at home?” Sirius asked, “You mean your brother?”

“No,” Remus shook his head and seemed to shrink into himself,. “I live in a children’s home.”

“Like an orphanage?” Peter blurted, surprised.

“No.” Remus said angrily. He seemed to know the others were watching him closely. The group
turned to silence again.

After a while, James and Sirius started talking about quidditch enthusiastically.

“Have you heard of Danny McKinnon?” James asked, itching his arm mindlessly.

“Yeah, the new recruit for the Cannons?”

“Me and Peter met his little sister in the boat! She’s in our grade!”

“Cool. But let’s be real here, the team that’s winning this year is the Harpies.” Sirius said, which
seemed to offend James. They started arguing and Peter let his eyes wander around the room.
Remus had closed the curtains, blocking them out.

I wonder why he’s acting like that. I’d want to get to know my dorm mates if I were him. We’ll be
together for years, won’t we? He’s rather unfriendly. Peter had been used to James’ level of
immediate friendship, so meeting someone as withdrawn as Remus was a shock.

“You’d think he’d try harder to make friends,” Peter whispered to James and Sirius, distracting
them. “Especially if he’s muggle-born.” He wouldn’t know anyone, it’d be a shame for him to be
all alone. I wouldn’t want that for myself.
 “Are you sure the hat wasn’t supposed to put you in Slytherin?” Sirius snarled at Peter, a spike of
hostility in his eyes. It seemed like Sirius didn’t fancy him much either. James sent Peter one of his
‘he-has-a-point’ looks, and Peter shut himself up. Day one of Hogwarts, and he was already hated
by two of his dorm mates. How fun.

Chapter End Notes

I just finished midterms today - wanted to publish it before my birthday was over lol
(I'm so glad my birthday is near James Potter's - me march 25, him march 27 top ten
achievements of my life)
anyway thank you to the select few who're reading this i appreciate you and all of the
lovely comments have a lovely day!

btw thank you to closetfascination (idk how to tag you) that google doc on formatting
is super helpful i owe you my life haha
 Remus Lupin, First Year
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The next few days passed by fairly smoothly. Peter liked most of his classes and tried to be
friendly to everyone, even that snobbish red-haired girl and that greasy haired boy who followed
her like some creepy ghost. Sirius was alright, if not overly snippy about his family and the
Slytherins. He seemed to begin accepting his house though, and was particularly chummy with
James. Peter often felt like a stain on a carpet when he hung out with them. They knew he was
there, but didn’t care enough to look at him or pay attention to him. Of course, Peter Pettigrew’s
best friend was still James Potter. It would always be James Potter. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t
exactly say that James was Peter’s best friend, anymore. Not since they met Sirius Black on the
Hogwarts express. The two of them were as bold as… well… Peter didn’t really know any bold
things… but if he did, then James and Sirius would have fit it perfectly.

Peter felt like a shadow.

No matter what James said, Peter knew that Remus was avoiding the three of them. He’d duck into
different hallways and he avoided eye contact with them at mealtimes. Peter didn’t want to say that
it stung a little, but he’d hoped that he and Remus could get along better, especially since James
and Sirius were fawning over each other constantly.

Peter would be trying to sleep in his bed, tossing and turning, and he’d peek out of the curtain to see
if the other boys were asleep and if he could go get water from the bathroom. He was always
surprised to see candle light from the others’ beds. They were awake, and having fun without him.
Peter used to hope that they’d realize that it would be fun if they invited him too, but the invitation
never arose. I’m fun, Peter would think to himself, brushing his teeth before bed every night. I can
be funny and interesting. Give me a chance and you’ll love having me around! And then Peter
would slam the door shut on his way out, making James and Sirius look at him, surprised.

“Blimey, Pete. You alright?” James would say. Peter would laugh and shrug, claim it was an
accident, and climb back into his bed.

Peter imagined that one day, he could answer James honestly. He planned out what he would’ve
said a hundred times each night. No, James. I’m not okay. I feel like I’m going to cry when I’m with
you and Sirius, because I think he’s replacing me as your best friend. I feel like I don’t matter when
he’s around. James, do I matter to you?

Peter never asked, though. He was terrified of the answer. He was terrified of watching James’ face
crease in worry, and watching his eyes flicker around the room, confused on how to respond. He
was afraid of watching Sirius look at James, the thoughts clear on his face: this kid is OBSESSED
with you, he’d think. And then once Sirius thought he was obsessive and creepy, he’d try to make
James realize that too, saying he’s just “worried” that Peter would go possessive-crazy. “This is
for your own safety, James,” he’d say. And then they’d both avoid him. Peter thought to himself,
mentally spiraling.

“Knock knock,” James said, opening Peter’s curtain. Peter jolted out of his thoughts and stared at
James, who smiled at him sheepishly.

“What’s up?” Peter scooted backwards, letting James climb in. Always clearing a path for his
friend.
“Er,” James said, looking at his hands. “Forgive me for this Pete, but you seem down. Are you
okay?”

Peter sighed, looking down. “I’m sorry, James. I don’t mean to trouble you with my–”

“Oi! Shut it with that nonsense, Pete. You’re my bloody best friend.”

Peter shot him a look and whispered, “I thought that was Sirius.”

James scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Sirius is bloody cool and he’s a great mate, but you’re my best
friend.”

“What if he replaces me?”

“Peter Pettigrew, you are irreplaceable. Besides, I can have two best friends! Hell, I’d like to have
three! You, me, Remus, Sirius.” James said, leaning his head down a little to look right into Peter’s
eyes.

Peter couldn’t help the smile off his face. James had a way of making someone feel like they
mattered.

James stayed with him that night, chatting and joking about quidditch and their dreams for the
future.

*~*

“Hey, lads. You awake?” Sirius asked, pulling the curtain back. Peter looked up groggily, besides
James.

“Not anymore,” Peter said, making James let out a soft exhale laugh. James still had his eyes
closed, but was definitely waking up.

“Er… Sorry.” Sirius said, glancing between the other boys nervously.

“What’s the matter, Sirius?” James said, reaching up to rub at his eyes, pushing his glasses far up
on his forehead.

“Yeah, what time is it?” Peter asked, sitting up and leaning on his hands.

“Remus isn’t back yet.”

James’ head snapped up.

“What?”

“He isn’t in here, or in the common room. I can’t check anywhere else because of curfew, but do
you think he’s alright?”

James shook his head, “I don’t know.”

“What do we do?” Peter asked, rubbing his face. Sirius stared at him, and a scowl briefly crossed
his face.

“It’s not like we know where he is,” James said after a minute. “And we can’t leave the tower,
because it’s after hours. We’ll just have to wait till morning.”
“Okay,” Peter agreed, shrugging. “I’m not tired enough to sleep. Want to play chess, James?”

“Want to come, Sirius?” James said, reaching his arm toward Sirius and holding his shoulder.
Sirius stared back at him for a moment, hesitating. He gave in a moment later.

“Yeah, sure.”

The three boys descended down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, grinning to each other
like sleep-deprived loons.

“What are you three doing out here so late?” A voice cut through their chatter. A girl in the
common room was looking at them with a grin. She had dark bags under her eyes and looked like a
fifth or sixth year. James and Sirius stared at her, looking surprised and guilty.

“We’re going to play chess,” Peter said, smiling at her. It’s like they’ve never snuck out in their
lives, he thought to himself, halfway between a laugh and a groan.

“Right on. Do any of you three know anything about the muggle Greek god Atë?”

“Er… No?” James and Sirius said in sync. The girl in the armchair sighed heavily, as if this
question was on her mind. Of course, Peter had no idea either. He was used to James knowing
everything.

“Merlin, I was hoping to finish this essay tonight. I’ll have to ask my little sister, she knows
everything about all this crud.” The girl shook her head and heaved the massive book out of her
lap. She stood up and stretched like a cat, blinking sleep from her eyes. She seemed to have
forgotten the boys were there, and her pajama shirt lifted slightly. James looked away pointedly,
and nudged Peter to do the same. Sirius hadn’t noticed what she was doing yet, and was leaning
over the small table and grabbing one of the biscuits left on a plate.

“Oi that’s mine–” the girl started, but her expression fell to a deadpan when she saw that he had
shoved it into his mouth.

“Omph, sofry,” Sirius said around the mouthful, little pieces of biscuit flying from his mouth as he
talked. He chewed slowly, and he looked between the three others awkwardly as he swallowed.

“Really, Sirius?” James rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, er… I was hungry.”

Peter fought the urge to laugh. Apparently sleep-deprived Sirius was a foodie.

“Right. Fine, I’ll get some more tomorrow.” The girl said, turning away.

“Where’d you get them?” Peter asked, suddenly curious. He couldn't remember seeing any of these
biscuits at any meals.

“Er… there’s this portrait of a bunch of fruit, down this one hallway, right? And ya tickle the pear,
she opens to the kitchens like the fat lady.”

“The kitchens?” James said curiously.

“Aye, but you’ve gotta be nice to the house elves. They help ya outta pure kindness when you go
there.”

James looked shocked at the idea of treating anything without respect. “Of course, naturally,” he
said, nodding.

Sirius looked somewhat more skeptical, but he didn’t say anything. Right… when I act ignorant
then everyone jumps on me, but when Sirius does it, it’s completely normal and fine, Peter thought
bitterly. He was well versed in treating house elves kindly, because Philomena had taught him
before she had gone to Hogwarts in her fourth year and gotten all weird. She had left as she had
been for their entire lives, silly and funny and magic-loving. She used to play with Peter and make
castles out of the dirt and dresses from leaves. She used to talk to Peter about everything, and joke
with Peter about their parents and comfort him when he cried. She used to care for Peter when he
tripped and fell down the stairs again, and helped him cut his hair so he wouldn’t have to fear his
mum’s nightmarish buzz cut.

She had returned prettier than she’d been when she left, skinnier and with longer hair. She’d
learned how to do makeup, apparently, and she curled her now long blonde hair in the mirror for
hours. She’d come back cold and snippy, always giving Peter harsh looks or rolling her eyes at
him. She’d returned and thought she was too old for playing in the woods, too dainty to dig in the
dirt. She didn’t like magic as much, either. She’d ignored her summer school work and bunked off
with her friends practically every day. Peter missed his sister.

“Peter?” James had put a hand on his shoulder, snapping him back into the world.

“Sorry, James. I’m knackered. Do you mind if we go back to bed?” Peter tried his best to look
sleepy, yawning a little. James looked at Sirius, but nodded.

“Good point. We’ll see Remus in the morning.”

Peter looked for the girl, but awkwardly realized that she wasn’t there anymore.

“She left, then?” Peter asked, looking at the stairway for the girls dormitory.

“Yeah. She said goodnight though. Seemed nice.” James glanced at Peter and turned towards the
stairs to the boys’ dormitories.

“Okay,” Peter whispered, following James. When they reached the stairs, Peter glanced behind
him, realizing that Sirius was standing in the middle of the common room. His body was facing
Peter, but his face was looking into the fireplace on his side. He looked lost and sorrowful, and the
light flickered on his face like it was trying to comfort him.

Peter walked up the stairs.

*~*

In the morning, James woke Peter up by grabbing his ankles and yanking him off the bed
lengthwise. Peter yelled in surprise and scowled at James after he’d landed on the floor, probably
bruising his bottom.

“Oww, gerroff James!” Peter complained, while James laughed brightly. Sirius joined in after he’d
seen what happened.

“Nice one James!” Sirius grinned at them.

“Good morning Peter, my dear friend,” James laughed, smiling at Peter.

“Morning,” Peter said, letting a smile bleed onto his face.

 “Shall we get ready for breakfast?” Sirius asked, stepping over piles of books and dirty clothes to
them. He frowned, “Remus hasn’t come back yet, though.”

“Really?” James asked, peering over to Remus’ bed. “How’d he go the whole night without getting
caught by Filch?”

Peter shrugged, “I guess you've got some things to learn from Remus.”

James laughed, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Let’s get ready, we’d hate to miss breakfast for your chatter,” Sirius said, giving Peter that look
again.

The three of them went to their dressers and started getting ready, with James attempting
desperately to comb his hair, Peter yet again struggling on how to tuck his shirt in, and Sirius, who
had forgotten yet again how to tie a tie.

The door banged open and Remus bloody Lupin strode inside, steaming and angry like boiling
water in a kettle.

“Where were you?” James asked Remus immediately.

Remus scowled. “Nowhere.”

Sirius glanced away from his mirror. He had given up on the tie and was fixing his hair. “Are you
ok?” he asked, scanning Remus.

“Yeah,” James added, also looking Remus up and down, “you look a bit weird.”

“Piss off.” Ah, Remus, same as ever.

“We’re just being nice,” Peter said, trying to defend his friends. Remus glared at him, holding his
shirt from yesterday tightly in his bandaged hand.

“What?!” Remus spat, “You all gonna watch me get dressed? You posh boys are all a bunch of
poofs.” At that, he stormed into the bathroom and yanked the door shut.

“Remus can be a crabby old man,” Peter muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, but let’s try not to blame him. He must’ve had a rough night,” James whispered back.

“Tosser didn’t even tell us where he was!” Sirius came close to the other two and whisper-shouted,
glancing at the door.

“Ignore it, Sirius. He’ll warm up to us eventually.” James said, the voice of reason.

“Can we go to breakfast now? I’m hungry.” Peter blurted, his stomach growling loudly. James
grinned at him.

“Let’s head on down. We can stop by the kitchens on our way home, tickle that pear in the portrait.
What do you say, Sirius?”

Sirius shrugged, a grin on his face. “Sounds good.”

Chapter End Notes

Chapter End Notes

buddies I'm sorry this has taken so long, I've had so much going on but yk i really want
to do this story lol anyway have a lovely day thanks for reading :)
'tis an honor to serve the lovely fans of atyd and young peter
 Mara Dugaine, First Year
Chapter Summary

so I've risen from the dead lol I sWEAR I have not forgotten this fic or the lovely
people who've been reading it
and not to be one of those cliche ao3 authors, but my DUDE life has been hectic - my
grandparents moved in with us (my grandfather's got paranoid schizophrenia and
pretty much my whole family has dedicated a ton of time and effort to help him and
my grandma, my jobs got progressively worse I'm working all the time and i think my
boss hates me and im def not being paid minimum wage but whatever, and all of my
closest friends just moved away and i might never see them again :'\

we're going to blame my parents for refusing to get me adhd treatment for why this
chapter is 18394053 years late
let's just roll with the idea that each update will take about 2 months for right now im
sorryyyyyy :( i feel so guilty

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Peter wasn’t very good at magic. His classes made it abundantly clear that no matter how hard he
tried, it just wasn’t his forte. Not potions or transfiguration or charms, and especially not history of
magic. In charms, he tried to lift pinecones, but the dumb thing would just roll away from him
sadly. Some red haired girl named Lily Evans got her own pinecone really high, and Sirius got his
to spin around on the table. Remus and James were like him for once, and their pinecones didn’t
move.

Peter had felt blegh-y for the past few days. He might have a cold. Hopefully not, because he really
couldn’t afford to miss class right now. He wasn’t exactly struggling in his classes, but he was a
little too close for comfort. Magic just didn’t come as easily to him. Peter tried not to blame
himself.

He got lost for the fourth time of the day while heading to the library, or so he thought. At this
point, Peter had decided to just start walking and hope he ended up somewhere useful. Peter finally
approached a tall, looming door. He reached for the handle, mesmerized.

“Oi! Little buddy!” A voice behind him called, and the door disappeared. Peter jumped back in
shock, staring where the enormous door once was. Stone slabs covered the blank wall now, boring
and blank.

The girl from the night before, with hair wild around her shoulders and spiked up around her head,
was striding towards him, a significantly smaller girl in tow.

“Hiya!” The girl smiled, big and bright and pretty. The girl behind her was looking down, a
shadow to the much more confident person in front.

“Oh, er.. Hello.” Peter greeted her, trying not to look too lame. He smiled, but even he could sense
that it was an uncomfortable and faked expression.
“I’m Jaya Dugaine,” the older girl said, introducing herself, “and this is my little sister Mara!” The
girl leaned in to Peter, whispering now. “She’s a little shy, so be nice to her, alright little guy?”

Peter stared at Jaya but managed a small nod. He looked over to Mara, who was staring at him
almost robotically.

“Greetings. I am Mara. If you call me Dugaine then I will call you something that your mother
would have nightmares about. I am a third year slytherin student. I play chess, I’m the captain of
the chess club.” She paused, as if she’d rehearsed the whole speech. She looked at him pointedly,
“You should join.”

“Er, alright. I like chess loads. That sounds fun,” Peter said, relieved and yet also still terrified at
Mara’s statement. Mara visibly brightened, seeming to be even more relieved than Peter.

Jaya cut back in, saying, “And you probably don’t remember, but my question about greek
mythology has been answered! By my sister of course,” Jaya pointed to Mara enthusiastically.
Mara glanced at her sister, the smaller girl’s expression itself feeling quiet.

“The Greek goddess Atë was a goddess of mischief, and that kind of thing. But not mischief in a
fun, prankster way, but in a deceitful and ‘I will ruin you’ kinda way. She caused people to act
rashly and led men down the path of ruin. She corrupted both gods and men to rash and
inconsiderate actions and led them to suffering.” Mara looked right into Peter’s eyes, almost
through. Her eyes were hazel, but more of a golden brown than green. They bored into him like
streetlights with an unsettling strength. Peter felt his stomach jumble, and he shifted awkwardly,
breaking eye contact.

Mara looked at her sister, clearly bored. Peter felt a twinge of guilt. Was he not entertaining
enough? Maybe this was why James didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

“I’ll go to the chess club. When, and er, where is it?” Peter blurted, and then, remembering that he
had not yet introduced himself, Peter said, “And I’m peter. Peter Pettigrew.”

It felt nice to meet someone new without James beside him. Peter felt like his own person. The
boss of his own words, and he could say whatever, whenever he wanted.

Mara turned back to him, this time her gaze soft.

“Nice to meet you Peter. The chess club meets inside room A in the library on tuesday afternoons.
If you get lost, you can ask the librarian. She’s sweet to you if you bring her chocolate truffles from
the house elves in the kitchen.”

Peter nodded.

“But if you don’t have the truffles, don’t talk with her. She can be quite crabby sometimes,” Jaya
cut in. Mara glanced at her, almost rolling her eyes.

“Yeah,” Mara said, “see you there, Peter.” She backed away, waved, and then pulled out her wand,
facing the stairs. She whispered something Peter couldn’t quite understand, pointing her wand at
the railing. Then she jumped onto it, sitting on the rail and sliding down it as though it were a
muggle playground slide. She whooped in joy on her way down, her dark brown hair lifting behind
her like a cape, soft and light.

Peter found himself staring at where she disappeared from sight. It was hard not to. That was the
bloody coolest thing ever, Peter thought. Jaya tapped him on the head lightly, her brilliant smile
glowing at him from above. Above being taller, of course, because Peter wasn’t quite… vertically
inclined.

“See ya, Peter, you fine lad. If you need any advice, you’re sure to find me having a stress-induced
breakdown in the common room at 2 am. Ta-ta!” Jaya said, spinning into a confident stride away,
leaving Peter alone in a hallway he didn’t recognize.

“All good things must come to an end,” Peter whispered, “Geoffrey Chaucer.”

Peter had recently decided that if he couldn’t write his poetry (he lost his book three days ago),
then he’d memorize other’s, and quote it to himself. But only when he was alone, because Peter
didn’t want to be made fun of any more than he already was.

----------

Peter regretted showing up to Potions the next day the moment he stepped into class, smelling that
awful scent of newt eye and what James had begun to call, “The Nefarious Potion Master,” in a
reference to the strong odor that their professor gave off in waves.

Slughorn started reading the list of students, adding commentary on each kid, and their families.
Peter felt like burying his head in the stone walls when he said Sirius’ name, calling honor and
recognition to the already perfect student that was standing next to James. He didn’t look at Sirius,
although he had a feeling that the entire class was looking at him. Peter didn’t want to be reminded
that James’ new best friend hated him.

“A Potter and a Pettigrew, eh? Well, well, along with Mr Black here this class has quite the
pedigree, eh?”

Peter glanced at James, who was nodding politely. He was humble about his blood purity, even
casual about it. Peter envied him, and his family. They seemed to not mind at all what others
thought of them, where his own family was almost desperate to hold onto a thinning rope.

“Let me see… Lupin! I knew your father; not one of mine, but a damn good dualist. Nasty…”
Slughorn went on, and Peter forced himself to look at Lupin, who appeared to be feeling a mix of
horror and curiosity. Peter looked into his lap, closing his eyes and wishing that he’d open them
and he wouldn’t be here. He’d be on the top of that mountain that Philomena once took him to
watch the sunset, and his sister would look at him and smile, wrap her arm around his shoulders
like she used to do, and say, Peter, it looks like it’s just you and me against the world.

Peter had been avoiding thinking about his sister, hoping that if he didn’t think about her, he
wouldn’t be sad. Hogwarts, however, had been proving him wrong since he got on that blasted
train to come here.

Philomena always said that Slughorn would go on passionate rants about frog eggs and kidney
stones. Peter was entirely ready to just listen to another droning professor and tune out, so when
Slughorn opened his (rather large) mouth, Peter felt a brief flicker of hope. It was demolished in
half a second, though, when the old man said, ““Best thing is to just get stuck in! Now, if we all
work four to a cauldron, you can all take it in turns to follow the steps…”

Four to a cauldron means I’ll be with… Peter looked around the room. James was grinning,
grabbing Sirius and his friend from slytherin, whose name Peter couldn’t remember.

“Petey boy, want to join us?” James asked, inviting him in. Peter nodded, because what was he
going to do? Say no to his only friend? Where would that leave him, if not alone.

“Sure.” Peter said, walking to their cauldron. Sirius looked him up and down judgmentally, but
turned to James and started saying something about snail eye stems, so Peter unashamedly tuned
out, sitting on his stool like a rock.

“Aren’t you going to help Peter?” Sirius asked suddenly, and Peter felt himself jolt out of his seat.

“Er, yeah, sure,” Peter looked at James awkwardly, “what do you want me to do?”

James shrugged, glancing at him momentarily.

“Dunno, you can just read the instructions out for us while we put the stuff in.”

The slytherin boy that James knew looked at Peter and said, “Yeah, you can do that. I’m Nathaniel
Quince, what’s your name?”

“This is Peter.” James cut in, his attention fixed on the jar of a suspicious gray paste.

Peter glanced at James, hoping his expression didn’t give any irritation off. He looked at Quince
and said, “Peter Pettigrew.”

Quince nodded, and Peter picked up the textbook, starting to read off of it. His mouth moved faster
than his eyes, and in a short amount of time, Peter began stumbling over his words.

“Hey, take your time man.” Quince said, looking up at him over the greenish beans he was dicing.
“Better to go slow and get it right.”

Peter nodded, feeling flush with embarrassment and some kind of relief. He focused on the words,
this time trying his hardest to pay attention to what the textbook said. When he paused after a
paragraph, he looked up at his teammates, examining their faces. Quince looked peaceful, far too
relaxed and gentle to be a Slytherin. Sirius was simmering, as usual. Peter liked to think that he was
better at reading him than he used to be, despite the only thing he ever read being anger. James
looked like he was falling asleep, leaning into the cauldron with closing eyes.

“The next thing you have to add to the potion is a James Potter, which should be no trouble at all,
he’s already going in on his own,” Peter read, pretending to be reading from the textbook. Quince
laughed loudly, startling James back to consciousness, and to Peter’s surprise, Sirius was grinning.

“Nice one, Peter.” Sirius laughed, his anger almost forgotten. Peter laughed, relieved and looked
up to James, who was shaking his head bewilderedly.

“Whas goin on?” James mumbled, pushing up his glasses to wipe off the sleep in his eyes.

Peter glanced behind James for a moment, just in time to see Remus launch himself over the table
at Snape, punching him right in his ugly face. Peter couldn't stop the excited grin from appearing
on his own face, and his group noticed, turning to look. Mulciber, the other bloke from Slytherin,
grabbed Remus by his collar and punched him in the face.

“That’s gotta hurt,” Quince said, glancing at Peter. Peter nodded.

“I’m loving this,” Sirius said, his eyes excited and enraptured by the chaotic scene.

“Stop!” Slughorn exploded from the corner of the room. The entire room froze. “Get up, both of
you!” He shouted, scolding them harshly. Peter shrank back, feeling guilty.

The two boys seemed to be in varying amounts of physical duress. Snape looked terrible, like he’d
been through a tornado and broken his already large nose. Remus just looked angry, his uniform
rumpled in a way that made him look rather cool.

“Explain yourselves!” Slughorn boomed, calling the attention in the room back to himself. Snape
and Remus looked awkward and guilty, with the other Slytherin boy in their group grinning
devilishly at them. The red haired girl was crying. “Very well. Detention for both of you, two
weeks. Ten points from Gryffindor and ten from Slytherin.”

“That’s not fair!” James burst, proud and brave, standing up for his friend. “Should be twice as
many from Slytherin, it was two against one!”

“From where I was standing it was Mr Lupin who started it. Still, you are quite right – Mulciber,
five points for punching Remus. Violence does not solve violence, you know, as I’ve told your
eldest brother on a number of occasions. Miss Evans, please take Mr Snape to the hospital wing.
Lupin, you can clean up the mess you’ve made.” Slughorn sniffed and turned away, swishing his
robes behind him.

Peter looked at the other students, studying their faces. Some were laughing, high off the
adrenaline from the skirmish, and others were eyeing Snape and Remus wearily.

The students shuffled out, but before he walked down the hallway, James grabbed Peter’s arm, a
flushed grin on his face.

“Let’s wait for Remus. That was bloody fantastic!”

“Brilliant, really,” Sirius added, coming up from behind him.

“Yeah,” Peter said, scanning his mind for something incredibly clever or funny to say. He was
drawing up a blank, but Mulciber stomped over, pushing Peter aside. He marched up to James,
haughty and irritated. He was clearly less than pleased at James’ comment that made him lose
points.

“You pisshead, Potter,” he all but snarled.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear friend?” James smiled at him, blinking innocently.

“It was your friend that started it.” Mulciber spat, “So why am I in trouble?”

“Third man in,” Sirius said, folding his arms and stepping into the scene.

“What started it?” Someone behind Mulciber asked, and Peter realized that the class was crowding
around them.

Mulciber grinned, “Lupin never learned to read, the wanker. Muggle schools,” he snorted.
“Imagine growing up surrounded by wazzocks.” What in the bloody hell does wazzocks mean,
Peter thought, forcing himself to keep watching the scene and not run away.

“Nah, I wouldn’t say so,” Sirius said, anger rising in his folded arms as he moved threateningly
closer to Mulciber.

“No, lemme tell you something, Black.” Mulciber said, aggressively moving forward. Peter knew
a brawl was coming now, and he wanted to stop it. Peter had an idea, a brilliant, devious idea. He
moved forward like a shot, kicking Mulciber as hard as he could right between his legs.

The entire crowd recoiled in shock, and Peter smiled down at the crumpling Slytherin.
 “You better head to your next class,” Peter said softly. “You don’t want to be late.”

Mulciber’s friends crept up behind him and dragged him away, looking at Peter with fear in their
eyes.

Peter turned around to see James’ startled expression and Sirius’ stern one.

“Wow, Peter. Kind of out of character for you, isn’t it?” Sirius said, and Peter wanted to fight him,
too.

“I hate fighting,” Peter said, shrugging and sitting down on one of the hallway chairs.

“Peter, that was great. Good work, by gosh.” James grinned, elbowing Sirius.

“Now that looked bloody painful,” Quince said, walking up to Peter as if he was the coolest in the
group. “I like you, Peter Pettigrew.” He winked, and turned away. “See you lads later,” he crowed.

Remus finally came out of the classroom. James and Sirius pounced on him excitedly.

“Bloody brilliant, mate,” James punched Remus on his arm, “The way you just went for him!”

“Mulciber was out here bragging afterwards, told everyone what Snape said. You were right to do
it – what a prat.” Sirius said, looking at Remus like he was some kind of god. Very different
reaction between me and Remus beating up those guys, Peter noted.

“Told… everyone?” Remus sighed, leaning back.

“Don’t worry, they’re all on your side.” James said, “Well, except the Slytherins.” It was natural to
assume that the Slytherins would always be on each other’s side, much like the Gryffindors.

“Yeah, and who gives a toss about the Slytherins?” Sirius leaned towards Remus, “C’mon, it’s
dinner soon – hungry?”

“Starving,” Remus looked back at him, and their smiles lit up the hallway. Peter watched them
glow all the way to dinner. There was no further mention of what Peter had done, an unexpected
brave thing, and he was never held a hero for it. Peter decided that he no longer needed to be
brave. Remus, James, and Sirius could do that for him.

Chapter End Notes

have a lovely day to all those who read this

 Rose Hip Seeds, First Year
Chapter Summary

peter, like me, is absolute dog shite at spelling. Why? Because i said so.
Past tense? Present tense? What is a tense?

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“So.” James asked, “How are we going to get them back?”

“Get who back?” Peter said, staring at his writing. He was entirely positive that Transfiguration
had three i’s in it, but where was the third? It was a Sunday night, and James, Sirius and Remus
were sitting at desks in the common room. Peter was almost halfway done with McGonagall’s
assignment, and was feeling rather fried in the brain department. He had somehow lost track of all
of his notes, in his usual fashion.

“The Slytherins.” James said, and Peter looked up in surprise. Not to say he’d forgotten about it,
but he had been trying to suppress the memory. “Keep up, Pete.”

Peter frowned, feeling slightly attacked. “Not all of the Slytherins. Only Snape and Mulciber,
right?” There were some nice Slytherins, like Mara and Nathaniel Quince.

But since Sirius was Sirius, and probably despised him, he disagreed. “All of them.” Peter decided
not to take it personally. Sirius popped up to look at him, grinning and asking, “This what you were
looking for?”

“Thanks!” Peter said, crushed with relief. He didn’t know how he’d finish this without that. “I’ve
nearly finished…”

“Have you done it, Lupin?” Sirius asked Remus, looking across the room at him. Remus had
opened his book, but didn’t seem incredibly interested in it. He never really seemed interested in
homework, but he always wanted to sit with them. He’d become significantly more friendly ever
since that Potions lesson.

“Nah,” Remus shrugged, which made him look very aloof and cool. “Can’t be bothered.”

“Let us know if you need help.” Sirius said, almost looking like he just wanted an excuse to talk
more with Remus.

“You can copy mine if you want.” James added, pushing his homework to Remus, who seemed
incredibly insulted at the very idea of copying.

“I’m fine. I’m not stupid,” Remus snapped.

“No one said you were.” James said, smoothing it over. Remus looked like he wanted to hit the
both of them, practically glowering with his angry dark eyes. He seemed to shove that thought
down, changing the subject.
“We could put itching powder in their beds. Or on their clothes… if we could figure out who does
the laundry, anyway.”

Peter was pretty sure the house elves in the kitchen would know, and started thinking about how
they could find out who did their laundry. Peter was always shocked when his socks didn’t
disappear in the laundry as they did back home - but actually were returned to him.

“I like it.” James said, his plan-making face on, “Anyone got any itching powder, though?”

Nobody did.

“Could order some from Zonko’s. If you let me borrow your owl, James, Mum confiscated mine
after the sorting.” Sirius leaned forward eagerly.

“I s’pose,” James said thoughtfully, “Wish we could do it sooner, though. You know, strike while
the iron is hot.”

“Don’t need to buy itching powder,” Remus blurted, “Do you reckon they have rose hips in the
greenhouse?”

Remus was right. Peter had overheard the Herbology professor discussing rose hips with Madam
Pomfrey about Filch’s arthritis.

“Yep,” Peter said, trying his best to be involved and still finish his homework, “For healing potions
– arthritis, I think.”

“The hairs inside make you itch, really badly.” Remus said, “Matron – the woman who runs the
children’s home – she grows them, and if you get in trouble she makes you seed them without
gloves on.”

“That’s awful.” James winced.

“Good idea, though! Next break, we’ll go and get a load of them. Then we can seed them – with
gloves on – and put them in the Slytherin’s bedsheets. Excellent!”

“How are we going to get into the Slytherin dorms?” Peter asked, looking up from his finished
work. His hand ached from writing so much, and he was pretty sure he’d broken three quills in the
process.

“Leave that to me,” James grinned.

***

Getting rose hips was the most fun thing Peter had ever done. The other boys voted to send him –
he’d thought James’d be best, but all three of them had told him to go– so during morning break,
Peter went to get them. The hair on the back of his neck was as prickly as his nerves, but he did his
best to keep calm and look like he was strolling whilst pondering the meaning of existence (or
something).

Peter walked into the greenhouse, surprised that it wasn’t locked.

“Hey, kid. What’re yo-ou doing in here?” A slurred voice sounded from inside, and Peter’s heart
rate spiked. A teenage boy, probably in 6th year and smoking, was sitting on the floor of the
greenhouse. He was a Hufflepuff, by the look of it, and most definitely high. Peter remembered his
sister telling him that people always went to the greenhouse to smoke - and that it was where all
the cool kids went.

Using his excellent deduction skills and personal experience with his part-time smoker sister, Peter
accidentally decided to tell him everything. “I’m getting rose hip seeds to prank some Slytherins
with my friends.” Dang it, Peter thought to himself. He was terrible under pressure.

“Ha!” The boy laughed, leaning his head back and breathing out a load of smoke. “Brilliant, my
young mastermind. You need any help locating them?”

“Sure,” Peter said, proud of how nonchalant his tone was. He didn’t get compliments often,
especially from strangers.

The boy hopped up, brushing dirt off his butt. He started walking towards a shelf of jars on the
wall, swaying a bit. He scanned through them, then looked back at Peter and giggled.

“It’s this one, here. With the clear glass.” He pointed to one smaller jars on the shelf - every single
one of them was made of clear glass, though. Peter fought back a snort of laughter.

Peter picked the jar up from the shelf, vaguely impressed when it was, in fact, rose hip seeds.
Stoner boy was right.

“Thanks,” Peter said to the boy, who shrugged and grinned.

“Fuck ‘em up.” Was the last thing he heard the boy say before Peter walked out of the greenhouse.
His heart was pumping again and he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. He was so excited- and he
knew the other boys would be too.

He returned to his friends a victor, and they had all thumped him on the back for his work.

They went up to their dorm and all of them went straight into the bathroom. Remus helped them
seed the buds, and the four of them sat on the floor working, brimming with excitement.

“I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces.” Sirius said. Peter couldn’t help but agree, glancing at
James. James was smiling back at Sirius.

“I still don’t know how we’re going to get into the Slytherin dorms – even Peter isn’t that sneaky.”
Sirius said, a frown crossing his face. Peter felt a little insulted, but he did have a good point.

“Let me worry about that,” James replied, and that was that.

They separated the seeds and hairs into two jars, and finally, they were ready for action.

James took the lead on their prank again, picking a Tuesday night to carry it through. According to
James, it had to be done before the Slytherins went to bed. He also said that they should split up
for max secrecy and efficiency. He also decided that they ought to go to the Slytherin dorms
separately, to avoid being seen together and discovered.

That evening, they behaved as if they were preparing for war, all leaving the dining hall
inconspicuously and sneaking away. Peter thought he was going to have a panic attack, and felt the
other boys watching him closely to make sure he wouldn’t snap and tell someone. In Peter’s
defense, he’d never intentionally broken rules before.

They began their plan in the second floor girl’s loo. There was apparently a ghost that lived in there
- she was crying when they were in there. Her tears sounded a lot like Philomena’s, something in
the back of Peter’s mind whispered, and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to block out the quiet
whimpers the ghost was making. Memories pushed into his thoughts, Philomena’s tear-stricken
face, her shaking hands, the way she hugged him that night. Ever since then she’d withdrawn. She
hadn’t talked to Peter, hadn’t smiled at him, or told him a joke since. Peter missed her.

“Lead the way then, Lupin,” James said, allowing Peter to escape the rabbit hole of his thoughts.
He’d been leaning against the wall waiting for Remus and Peter to get there.

“Wait, show us what you’re planning, first.”

James grinned - he’d been waiting for this.

“Oh… ok then, here, hold this,” he pushed the rose hip jar into Sirius’ hands, whipping out a
massive, silver cloak from inside his pockets.

“No. You haven’t, Potter, you bloody haven’t…” Sirius said, entranced. Peter was too, he’d admit.
Fascinated by this incredible thing James had just revealed. Remus was the only one who wasn’t
enraptured by this - does he know what an invisibility cloak is? Peter thought, glancing at him.
James beamed and flung his cloak on, and part of his body disappeared.

“You jammy bastard!” Sirius cheered, “How come you never told me?!”

“You never told me, either!” Peter cried out, “And I’ve known you forever. Where did you get it?”
This almost felt like a betrayal of his best friend who he’d known since forever. James whipped his
cloak off his head - so he looked like the opposite of headless.

“Been in the family for years,” James crowed, “Dad let me bring it, as long as I don’t tell mum.”

“Lucky git.” Sirius said, reaching out to touch the invisible cloak, “My parents would do anything
for an invisibility cloak.”

“I reckon we can all fit under it,” James said, inviting them all in to it. “C’mon, let’s all get nice
and cosy…”

It took a little bit for all of them to get accustomed to walking around in it together, but once they
did, they headed down to the dungeon. Remus brought them to the entrance - but Peter couldn’t
really see what it was because the other boys were blocking his view.

“How’d you find this, Remus?” James said, “It’s genius.”

“You come out behind one of them rugs they hang on the walls, in the dungeons,” Remus replied,
“I just looked behind it.”

“Do you mean a tapestry?” Peter asked, so that’s what the gate is.

“Um… s’pose so?” Remus whispered back.

“Shut up, Pettigrew.” Sirius hissed. Bastard. Peter seethed at him quietly.

“Oi,” Remus was muttering, “Bugger off.”

“Sorry!” Sirius jolted, and Peter hated him for actually sounding it, “Meant to get Pete, not you.”
Of course you did. Peter scowled and glared at Sirius in the corner of his eye.

“Be quiet, all of you,” James whispered, “We’re almost there.”

They waited, listening. The silence was driving Peter insane by the time James gave them the all
clear.

“Where’s the entrance?” Sirius asked.

“Behind that wall,” Remus pointed at a brick wall.

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve seen them go in before,” Remus said - too quickly.

“D’you know the password?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.”

“It’s not curfew yet, let’s just wait.”

And so they waited - an eternity in a silent, dank hallway in a magical dungeon. Pressing up next to
all of his friends (no matter how much Sirius hated him, they were still friends) still felt incredibly
wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and Peter tried as hard as he could to
pretend that it had nothing to do with his father. It was just the dungeon - sitting in hiding, he told
himself.

Finally, two older girls walked into the hallway, chattering loudly.

“Let’s see the ring again, Bella!” The shorter girl said to the girl walking with her. Sirius shifted.
Remus looked at him quietly. Peter looked at them both.

The taller girl with the crazier black hair flashed a ring on her finger - an obnoxious, silver and
emerald ring. It was Bellatrix, Peter realized, the one who’s marrying Lestrange.

The shorter girl - must’ve been Narcissa, her sister - squealed in excitement.

“Gorgeous! Oh, I can’t wait to get married…” Narcissa trailed off, sighing in anticipation.

“Wait your turn,” Bellatrix sniffed, “Once Lucius has a better position with the ministry I’m sure
Mummy and Daddy will agree to the match.” She turned towards the wall, “Mundus sanguine.”

The wall slid open, and boys rushed after them, squeezing after them.

Peter knew that the other boys were thinking the same thing - the Slytherin Common Room was
awful. It was pretentious, stiff, not at all homely and comfortable like the Gryffindor Common
Room. The room itself was dripping in evil.

Peter was glad he wasn’t the only one who seemed uncomfortable. They were all frozen until
James pushed them forward. They shuffled up a flight of stairs, hoping to end up in the boy’s
dormitories. They passed Severus sitting alone, his greasy hair draped onto a potions textbook.
hunched over his potions textbook. They went into the room at the top of the staircase - a bedroom.

James heaved the cloak off of them,

“Keep a lookout, eh Petey?” James said, sweeping into the room with a grin. “Reckon one of these
is Snape’s bed?” Peter stood by the door as requested.

“This one might be,” Sirius said, “Sheets look greasy enough.” They all joined in the cruel laugh,
which was well-deserved on Snape’s part.

“Quick then, lads, gloves on,” James whispered, and the other three boys whipped out their gloves
and began working. After a minute James made a disappointed noise.

“They’ll see them!”

“Well… they’ll still get it on them trying to brush them out,” Sirius frowned, although he too was
probably identifying the issue with their plan.

“Hang on…” Remus said. He muttered a spell Peter couldn’t quite hear under his breath.

To Peter’s astonishment, the seeds disappeared.

“Blimey!” James gaped at Remus, “How’d you do that? Flitwick hasn’t taught us that charm yet,
has he? Was it in the reading?”

“Nah,” Remus shrugged like it was no big deal, “I saw some of the fifth years doing it yesterday to
some sweets they bought in the village. S’not hard to copy.”

Sirius and James tried to do it too, but their seeds just scattered for the first couple times. James
eventually managed it after more practice. This is taking too long, Peter thought. We’re going to be
caught and flayed alive!

“You’d better do it, Lupin, or we’ll be here all night.”

“Yes, please hurry up!” Peter whisper-yelled.

“You’re going to show me exactly how to do that as soon as we’re back on neutral territory.” Sirius
said to Remus, pointing his finger at him.

“Next room,” James pulled them towards the door.

“Do we have to?” Peter said, squirming, “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not even close!” Sirius laughed, flaunting his hair, “What if we haven’t even got Snape’s bed
yet? We have to get them all, Pete. Are you with us or not?”

“All the boys, anyway,” James said as they worked. “I don’t fancy our chances getting into the
girl’s – remember what happened to Dirk Creswell last week?”

Peter did remember. The four boys looked into the distance, contemplating this (Sirius's
expression, the most dramatic, as per usual).

Remus became the bravest of the bunch in Peter’s eyes when he went into the sixth year Slytherin
boy dorm with nothing but laughter in his eyes.

They finally finished, and Peter’s heart was racing as they sneaked out of the Syltherin dorms and
past the boys walking up the stairs to go to bed. James insisted that they not make a peep until they
were at the Gryffindor common room again, so the walk back–or shuffle, really, with all of the
boys under the cloak– was excruciatingly long. Peter kept envisioning the entirety of Slytherin
figuring out what they had done and coming after them.

His heart was still beating hard when they reached the Fat Lady, and Peter wasn’t sure if it was
fear or excitement. Either way, he loved it.
“Widdershins!” They cheered at the Fat Lady, and were let into the common room. All four of the
boys crashed onto the nearest couch and grinned. Peter stared at his friends’ elated expression, and
suddenly the whole thing was worth it. All the risks had paid off, thanks to their brilliance.

“Cutting it fine, lads, been somewhere interesting?” A voice cut towards them and Peter winced,
that enormous doubt rising in his chest again.

James swooped in and saved him easily, “Library, obviously.”

The boy shook his head teasingly, “I’m sure I’ll hear about it soon enough.”

Peter smiled, safe again. The boys turned to each other, excitedly whispering to each other.

“I wish I could be there when it all kicks off!” Sirius said, looking happier than Peter’d ever seen
him, “And I wish even more we could have got my cousins.”

“It’s just the beginning, Sirius mate,” James crowed, slapping Sirius’ knee, “Between the four of us
I reckon we could go even bigger next time. Excellent first mission, men!”

Oh no, Peter thought,

“First mission?!”

Peter was exhausted, feeling like a dried out husk as he walked up the stairs for bed. James, Sirius
and Remus were all asleep on the soft couches in the common room. Peter staggered into the
bathroom, muttering to himself.

“A first mission, who’re they kidding? I came to school to be better at magic, not mess with people
I don't even know.”

He picked up the toothbrush and sighed, reaching for the toothpaste. The moment Peter squeezed it
to get some onto his toothbrush, it exploded, covering Peter and the sink in the mint flavored goo.
Peter restrained himself from screaming in frustration, because in the end, it wouldn’t be worth the
energy.

“Need a hand?” To his surprise, Sirius Black had appeared at the door, and was looking at him
with something other than cold contempt.

“Oh, sure. Guess I squeezed too hard,” Peter muttered, frustrated with himself. Sirius shook his
head.

“That’s fine, you know. I get like that sometimes too.”

Peter looked up at him suddenly. Was Sirius just being… nice? To Peter?

Peter considered that he might’ve been hallucinating.

“Hey Peter, can I talk to you for a second?” Sirius was looking back at him with a pleading
expression.

“I assumed you already were,” Peter replied, avoiding his eyes. “But sure, you can.”

“I found your notebook.”

 Peter’s head snapped up. No, his mind screamed, he can’t have!

“That’s private!” Peter sputtered, waves of embarrassment crashing into his mind as he
remembered all the things he’d written in it.

“Oh- sorry. I didn’t know what it was, so I only read the first couple pages.”

Peter knew, suddenly, what Sirius was asking. The first section of his notebook was filled with all
the terrible things Peter’s parents did. Especially his father. Peter braced himself for a ‘don’t speak
about your parents that way, that’s disrespectful’ that he’d expect from James.

“My parents, they’re like that too.” Sirius whispered, and it was the most real thing that Peter had
ever heard him say. “I mean,” Sirius continued, “it’s my mum who’s the worse one.”

“Parents, huh?” Peter murmured, a breathless chuckle escaping him. “It’s rough all over, I guess.”

Sirius nodded, a little. “I suppose what I’m trying to say, Peter, is that I’m sorry. I’ve kind of
been-“

“An ass?” Peter supplied one of the words he learned from Philomena’s friends.

“Yeah. I was an ass to you. I shouldn’t have been. I just wanted to fit in with you guys so bad.”
Sirius looked into his eyes, and Peter knew that this was it. This was their ‘becoming friends’
moment. He felt a rush of relief.

“That’s okay, Sirius.” Peter bumped their shoulders.

“Great work with the prank today, Peter. We couldn’t have done it without you.” Sirius said,
finishing their cleanup of the toothpaste mess. He reached out and patted Peter on the shoulder,
then walked out of the bathroom.

He left that sentence echoing in Peter’s mind for days.

We couldn’t have done it without you.

The next morning, Peter’s notebook was back on his bed.

Chapter End Notes

Me, skipping along, listening to taylor swift: (:D)

ATYD Peter watching me from across the room:
My english essay watching me from behind a bush:
My college application essays watching me with binoculars from a helicopter:
Me: ooh i have a idea for a poem
All, shaking heads and sighing: better luck next hyperfixation

Thank you all for your patience in waiting for updates guys - wrote this on my phone
notes app on plane to my uncle's wedding lol
have a lovely day :)
 The Marauders, First Year
Chapter Notes

*casually comes back to life*

Tell me why Yo Girl (from Heathers the musical) fits peter’s pov oct 31, 1981 so well
I mean JD?? Voldie
Veronica’s parents??? James
Martha dunstock? regulus
Veronica??? PETER
Anyway if anyone agrees let me know i crave validation :D

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Wednesday 15th September 1971

James and Sirius, overflowing with excitement, woke Peter up at the crack of dawn. Peter was
quite unhappy about it, because his bed was still warm and the air outside of it was noticeably not.
The other boys rushed him down the stairs, giggling to themselves like chittering birds.

Peter fought to keep his eyelids open, having not yet entirely woken up.

“Perfect,” Sirius crowed, “Front row seats!” Peter looked around the great hall, seeing the vast
emptiness around them. There were maybe a few students at the Ravenclaw table, but there was
literally no one there.

“Bet no one shows up for hours.” Peter propped himself up on his elbows, trying not to fall asleep.

“Oh cheer up,” James said, “Don’t want to see the fruits of our labour?”

“Not at six in the morning,” Peter grumbled, as James pushed a mug of tea toward him.
Grudgingly, Peter took it and started drinking. Sirius pushed a plate of toast toward him, and the
memory of the previous night almost brought Peter a smile.

“Have some toast and stop whinging,” Sirius said, and Peter dug in, significantly happier than he’d
been in moments previous.

Remus was doing something interesting with his own toast, cutting it into four triangular pieces
and putting all different toppings on them. Sirius smirked at Remus, and Peter shot a look at James,
smiling. A very Remus thing to do, it was.

After what felt like an eternity, the Slytherins began to arrive. Peter was bright and awake now,
with some hot tea and toast in his belly. The four boys watched them closely, leaning on the edge
of their seats. At first, it seemed like it might not have worked. Sirius gave a sigh, leaning back in
his chair. But one of the Slytherin boys shifted, itching his arm. Victory. As time went on, it
became more and more clear that their prank had been a complete and total success, with all of the
boys itching themselves desperately.

“It worked!” James said, and Peter grinned happily. They had done it!
Slytherins kept flowing in, and they looked increasingly more uncomfortable by the minute. The
Slytherin girls looked disturbed, eyeing their counterparts with an increasing amount of horror.
Sirius had an enormous grin, James was fighting a giggle, Peter was nearly giddy, and Remus was
smiling too, albeit in a less evil, cunning way.

At long last, the man of the hour arrived. Or, should he be called, the ‘slimy greasy haired 11 year
old of the hour.’ Snape’s hair almost covered his entire face, but Peter could still tell that he must
have slept on the rose hip seeds with it.

“Oh Merlin!” Sirius gasped, clutching himself in an overjoyed laugh. “Tell me we got his face!”

“Oi, Snivellus!” James could clearly not take the suspense anymore, and burst upward
dramatically.

The weasel’s attention snapped to him, and his hair moved perfectly out of the way. Half his face
was a lobster red rash, snaking down his neck and into his shirt. He looked like hell, and for half a
second, Peter pitied him.

But Sirius fixed that with a cheeky sneer, “Looking good!” and the boys dissolved into
mischievous giggles.

By the end of breakfast, everyone was talking about their prank. James and Sirius were kings of the
hall, parroting each other’s praises. Remus was smiling, a polite air about him that any professor
would love to see. Peter laughed along with them, making sure that they didn’t forget what Peter
himself had attributed to the scheme.

“It was all Lupin’s idea, though,” Sirius paused, looking at Remus with a considerable amount of
admiration. “What shall we do to celebrate, eh? Exploding snap? Raid the kitchens?” Remus, the
polite bastard, shrugged and smiled.

“Well, whatever you do, you’re doing it without me. I’ve got double detention.”

“From Slughorn?” Sirius gasped.

“Yeah, and McGonagall. And Flitwick, but that’s tomorrow. Then my Herbology detention is over
the weekend.” Peter tried not to display his shock on his face, because that was impolite. But
merlin, was that a load of detentions! Peter had way too much anxiety about a teacher just looking
at him wrong, so Remus’ nonchalant attitude about his gazillion detentions felt universes away.

“Bloody hell mate, you going for a record or something?” James said, exchanging a look with
Peter. Remus shrugged, indifferent.

“Maybe you’d better start doing your homework?” Sirius said helpfully. Remus ignored him,
getting up from the table.

“C’mon. It’s Defence Against the Dark Arts first, thought you two loved that.” Remus turned and
began to walk away. James, Sirius and Peter all shared an alarmed look, but scrambled to follow
him.

***

Peter lived that day with an air of pride, despite not being publicly known as one of the culprits
from the previous night’s events. He smiled at strangers in the hallway, not even minding when
they didn’t smile back. He even smiled at Slytherins, giddy with the knowledge that he had that
they didn’t. He enjoyed having a secret.
After their classes that day, the gang split up, with Remus headed off for detention and James and
Sirius wanting to spy on the Gryffindor Quidditch practice, Peter was on his own for the hour. He
hadn’t really wanted to go to the quidditch field anyway, because it was windy and unpleasant
outside, and he really did want a snack.

On his way down to the kitchens, he nearly smacked himself. It was Wednesday! With all the
excitement of the rose hip seed prank, he had completely forgotten to go to chess club yesterday
afternoon. Peter pictured the girl from five days ago, and tried to hope that she was not
murderously angry that he didn’t show up.

I’ll go next week for sure, Peter promised himself, and if I see her in the meantime, I’ll apologize.
He plodded down the final set of stairs, his new shoes making a noise that echoed around the hall.

“Hey Peter,” Philomena said, sitting against the wall down the corridor. She was sitting beside a
boy with dark brown hair, and Peter could smell the alcohol from 5 meters away. Her hair was
bright and wavy, falling around her shoulders in a way that framed her face like an angel. Peter
missed her, standing so close but feeling so far away.

“Hey, Philomena,” Peter replied. The boy sitting beside her took a silent sip of the bottle in his
hands. Peter wanted to cry. He didn’t though. He wouldn’t let her see that.

“What brings you down here, Petey? Going to the kitchens?” Philomena said softly, looking
everywhere but Peter’s eyes. Peter walked to her, slowly.

“Yeah, I think I’ll ask Melly to teach me how to bake a scone,” Peter said, shrugging. He’d
befriended Melly, a rosy-cheeked house elf that worked in the kitchens. She liked cucumbers and
the smell of lavender. She said the way that cucumbers crunched made her happy, and Peter liked
the way she thought.

“That sounds nice,” Philomena said, her voice aching. Peter hoped beyond hope that she missed
him as much as he missed her. “This is Leo Wood.”

“Hello, you must be Peter!” Leo jumped to his feet, drunkenly grinning at Peter and extending a
hand for him to shake. Peter stared at him. “I’ve heard loads about you,” Leo added, and Peter
looked at his sister for any kind of explanation.

“Hello. Sorry, but I can’t say the same. Philomena’s very private about her life.” Peter said, as
politely as he could. Before he turned and left, Peter glanced at his sister. "Well, I’m off. Bye,
Philomena. Remember: the Von Trapp children don't play. They march."

And with that, he marched down the hallway, turning the corner briskly. He hoped he hadn’t been
too obvious, quoting her favorite movie like that. Philomena absolutely loved watching muggle
films - she used to take Peter to town every week to watch the films. The Sound of Music was her
favorite.

Peter entered the kitchen, and Melly squealed with delight.

“Peter! Lovely lovely lovely! Come make scones with Melly! Melly has so much to be telling you
about!” Peter crouched down and offered Melly a hug. She obliged happily, and despite the
awkward sizing differences between them, it was a good hug. Peter liked her hugs. He rested his
arms around her and breathed deeply, the comforting aroma of the baking bread in his nose and the
warm lighting of the kitchen easing his eyes.

Being a hogwarts house elf wouldn’t be too bad, he thought. Three other elves said hi to him as
well as Melly walked him over to her cooking station. Peter sat on the floor and let Melly and the
other elves teach him about the delicate art of scone making for the entirety of hogwarts. For the
next several hours, Peter forgot anything else in the world existed.

***

When Peter left the kitchen, the nearby hallways were bustling with students. Peter weaved his
way through the crowd, munching on the to-go scone he had grabbed. It was lemon and blueberry.

Peter finished eating his scone, having walked a significant distance, before he finally realized that
he had no idea where he was. Well, he thought, I guess I’ll just keep walking till I see something I
remember. He started scanning the busy halls, too nervous to stop someone and ask them where he
was, so he just looked at the paintings covering the walls.

He kept walking until there was no one in the hallway except for him. A man in a painting he’d
just walked past shouted out to him.

“Young man! Where are you headed?”

“Oh, sorry.” Peter said, stepping back to face him. “I’m trying to find the Gryffindor Common
room, you see, and I’ve gotten lost again.”

“Lost! Egad! I, too, have been lost before!” the man declared, staring dramatically to the side.
“When I was alive, I traveled around the kingdom with my king, Arthur. He requested that I, Sir
Cadogan, kill the monstrous beast Wyvern of Wye! Of course I was never afraid, being that I am
the bravest and most glorious of Arthur’s Knights of The Round Table!”

Peter nodded slowly, staring at the armored man with a ridiculous mustache. “Okay,” he said,
“nice to meet you, Mr. Cadogan.”

The portrait laughed loudly. “Please! Call me Sir.”

“Alright then. Er, what were you saying? Do you know the way back to the Gryffindor Common
room?” Peter asked, shaking his head side to side as he spoke.

“Why of course, comrade! The room you seek is down three flights of stairs and 200 meters to the
left! Be careful, however! The journey is perilous and you may encounter–”

“Thank you.” Peter cut him off, walking away as quickly as he could. He didn’t need any more
drama today. He just wanted to get home and play chess with James.

“Farewell, young man! I shall hope to see you again!” Sir Cadogan called after him, his voice
growing more faded as Peter walked.

“I shall hope not,” Peter muttered to himself.

Finally, Peter reached the portrait hole. He gave the Fat Lady the password and headed in, crashing
onto one of the empty armchairs. His entrance must have caught Sirius and James’ eye, because
they bounced over to him like excited rabbits.

“Hi Pete!” James chirped, “Thank goodness you’re here! Me and Sirius have been bored out of our
minds.”

Sirius grinned, “I’m not bored at all. James doesn't want to just lie on the floor and listen to my
new records with me.”
Peter smiled, getting up from the chair and stretching his arms above his head. “Want to play
chess, James?”

James nodded, “Sounds great!”

Halfway through their third game, which was the tiebreaker, Remus finally climbed through the
portrait hole. He silently walked to them and sat beside Sirius. Peter moved his head slightly while
looking at Remus, trying to greet him, but Remus did not see him. Remus was watching Sirius sit
back up on the couch. Peter turned back to the game, plotting out his next set of moves.

“That was quick!” Peter heard Sirius say cheerfully. Peter tried to keep the reaction off his face
after James moved perfectly into the place Peter had hoped he would. Now he was a move away
from a checkmate.

“Only had to do one in the end,” Remus said, and Peter watched James struggling to focus on the
game, his brown eyes darting in between the board and Remus. “Slughorn let me off, too busy
trying to sort out the itching powder thing.”

“That prank is just the gift that keeps on giving.” Sirius crowed proudly.

“Snape was allergic and everything. That ginger girl said he’s been in the hospital wing all day.”
Remus smirked, causing a chain reaction. James’ head snapped up, Peter snickered happily, and
Sirius laughed brightly.

“Which ginger girl?” James moved his bishop, distractedly, and at long last!

“Check MATE!” Peter whooped. He stood and bowed, grinning as Sirius golf clapped for him.

“You know, the annoying one. Evans.” Remus shrugged, his eyes on the ground.

“I don’t think she’s annoying.” James pouted.

“Ok.” Remus said.

“Let’s not talk about girls.” Sirius groaned, “This might be the most important day of our lives!
This is the day we became legends; the day our friendship was forged in the fire of itching
powder!”

“They don’t know it was us, do they?” Peter asked, starting to put away the chess set after getting
the ‘good game but no more’ look from James. Remus shook his head, and Peter’s nerves calmed.

“Slughorn reckons it was a Slytherin girl. Or a gang of marauders.”

“Marauders!” Sirius launched forward, “That’s it! Raise your glasses, boys!”

“We don’t have glasses.” James rolled his eyes. Peter snickered, grinning at Sirius.

“Well, just pretend.” Sirius shot back snarkily, “From this day forward, we are The Marauders!”

He’s so dramatic, Peter thought, checking to see what the other boy’s reactions were to Sirius’
declaration. He liked the name, and the idea of belonging to a special group - but he had to make
sure that Remus and James did too. He was relieved to see a broad grin spread across James and
Remus’ faces.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What sort of poncey gang name is that?!”

Chapter End Notes

(Well, sorry about the insane gap of time during these updates ong i am trying

Also yes Leo wood is the character i invented that is oliver wood’s father! Literally a
pointless character ig idk tho i might do something with him, yk like Philomena and
him have a falling out etc she’s unable to trust or love wizardry (i'm thinking about
this too hard ong i dont need to give her a character arc… unless?)
Not to be the stereotypical Ao3 author but life is INSANE RN ON GOD i will TRY to
stay on a schedule but i promise at the very least that i wont disappear forever!! 100% i
will see this to the end :D
 The Lesson in Levitation, First Year
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Tuesday, 5th October 1971

James woke Peter up, hitting him in the face with a pillow.

“Remus is gone again.” He said, his voice low. He picked his pillow back up and walked over to
wake up Sirius in the same fashion. Peter looked at Remus’ bunk, and found that James was right.
It was perfectly made from the morning before - Remus hadn’t slept in the room again. “Sirius,”
James said, “wake up already!”

Sirius grumbled and rolled onto the floor sleepily. He made a thud when he hit the floor, and a
pained groan followed. Peter chuckled to himself, watching.

“James, do you think if we ask nicely he’ll tell us?” Peter asked, getting out of bed and following
James to the bathroom. “We’re closer to him now, I think. Maybe he’ll tell us what he’s been
doing.”

“He better,” James huffed, trying to comb his hair, which remained stubbornly untidy.

“Remus is gone?” Sirius was coming to, pushing himself off the floor.

“Yep. What is he even doing? How come he–” James started to rant, but he stopped himself. “No.
Peter’s right. We shouldn’t talk about him behind his back, we should just ask.”

Peter nodded silently.

“Whoever gets it out of him first wins.” Sirius grinned mischievously, clearly thinking of it as a
competition.

***

Remus refused to pay the other Marauders any attention during Transfiguration, despite their best
efforts to catch his eye. McGonagall spoke softly to Remus during the lesson, probably about
Remus failing to do his homework again. Peter had been watching McGonagall give Remus the
stern look for his lack of homework completed for the entire year. She seemed nicer about it today,
though. Maybe she’d given up. By the end of class, James and Sirius were desperate.

James, Sirius, and Peter all jumped Remus on their way to Charms, trying to get him to talk to
them.

“So? Where were you?!” Sirius asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Nowhere.” Remus responded, trying to escape.

“Oh, go on,” James sprang forward to match Remus’ hurried stride. “Tell us! Was it the same
place you went last month?”

“Maybe.” Remus frowned.

“Were you in detention again?” Peter asked, because it could be a possibility. Maybe Remus was
so behind on his classes that the professors wanted to try outlandish punishments, like making him
walk around with the groundskeeper in the forbidden forest. He’d heard of that happening to the
bad students from Philomena.

“Nope.”

“Then where—“ Peter stumbled, hating the walking speed that they were moving through the halls
in. James, Sirius, and Remus all had much longer legs than him. It wasn’t fair.

“Watch it, half-blood!” Snivellus had appeared in front of them, and Peter watched all three of his
friend’s shoulders tense up in sync. Remus tried to take him head on, puffing out his chest and
trying to push past him.

“Watch yourself, Snivellus.” Remus sneered, and James and Sirius lifted their chins like pretentious
backup dancers. Peter tried to follow suit, but he was awkwardly spaced out of the trio, which did
put quite a damper on their cool unit stance.

Snape pushed back, Mulicber materializing behind him like a korean toilet ghost.

“I know it was you that broke into our dorms the other night.” Snape spat, glaring daggers at each
one of them, “All of you.”

“Yeah? Prove it.” James folded his arms.

“I can’t, yet. But I will. I’ll get you back too, I promise.” Snape’s face twisted up, and Peter looked
at his friend’s confident faces, trying to channel their bold energy.

“We’re quaking in our boots,” Sirius smirked, almost laughing at Snape’s angry display. “Now
would you kindly move it?” God, Peter thought, he’s so bloody cool.

“Your idea, was it, Black?” Snape raised an eyebrow, assessing them. “Or yours, Potter? Had to
have been one of you. Pettigrew doesn’t have the guts,” Snape sent Peter a menacing glance. “And
dear Lupin here clearly hasn’t got the brains…”

Peter frowned deeper, wanting more than anything to prove him wrong. But he shrank backwards,
behind the cover of his friends, who were leaning closer to Snape with violence in their eyes.

“Move along now, gentlemen.” A voice cleared the hall, and the energy seemed to dissipate.
Professor Flitwick, a small but assertive professor, had appeared in the doorway of the Charms
classroom.

“Severus, you’re clogging up the halls, and you four are supposed to be in my class. Come along.”
Flitwick instructed calmly. Peter felt a victorious rush as Snape slunk back. Remus didn’t look as
satisfied with this result, though, holding an angry expression for the entire lesson.

Despite being pissed, Remus was still just as good at charms. His levitation charm looked
effortless, and Peter could not understand it in the slightest. James and Sirius were just as good as
Remus at the spell work, though, which drove Peter’s confidence even farther down.

With every spell Peter failed to produce, he felt like he could see the magic leaking out of him like
water out of a broken glass. With all the squibs and lack of magical strength in his bloodline, Peter
could never shake the feeling that he would join their ranks, yet another powerless Pettigrew to
drop out of Hogwarts and become a shoemaker. He anxiously read the textbooks Professor Flitwick
had given them, confusing himself constantly with the complicated texts. Everyone else gets it!
Peter thought, feeling as though he might cry. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I do this?
“I expect you all to be able to levitate this book by the end of the week,” Professor Flitwick said,
gesturing to the largest book Peter had ever seen. Peter winced. “So come prepared for a quick test
of your abilities.”

Peter groaned, muttering under his breath as they all left Charms. At least lunch was next, he
thought.

***

James, Sirius, and Peter held a secret meeting that night, all frustrated with the lack of clarity
regarding Remus’ disappearance.

“What are we going to do,” James whispered, trying to keep his voice low so as to not alert Remus
of their secret meeting. (They didn’t have complete confidence in Sirius’ ‘silencio’ charm he’d
tried to use)

“Asking him did not work,” Peter grumbled, just as quietly.

“Should we just… watch him? That sounds creepy I know, but maybe he’ll do something and give
it away.” Sirius folded his arms, his eyebrows furrowed.

Peter nodded. “I think we should keep an eye on him, yes, but I don’t think we should stalk him.”
He sent a concerned look in Sirius’ direction, causing James to let out a snort of laughter. Sirius
and Peter rounded on James, shushing him.

“Sorry lads,” James muttered.

“Yeah, alright Pete.” Sirius said, looking back at Peter.

“We’ll just have to wait for him to tell us, or figure it out on our own.” Peter said, frowning.

“But what if he never tells us?” James asked.

“There’s really nothing we can do, then. Remus is kind of a guarded person. We should respect his
boundaries until he trusts us more.” Peter said, and that was that. The meeting disbanded, and Peter
went to bed, proud of his voice of reason.

***

Thursday 7th October 1971

Sirius was clearly stalking Remus. Peter and James side-eyed each other every time Sirius tried to
‘subtly’ follow him around, grimacing. Peter thought that they had unanimously agreed to not
bother Remus about it anymore, but Sirius was dead-set on finding out his secret. Remus was
pretending not to notice, and so this continued on and on for days.

James fixed this ‘need for information’ mindset on every other person in hogwarts, devouring
gossip at a rate Peter had never seen before. He talked about it constantly, probably hoping that
Remus would join in the gossip exchange. This was a fruitless strategy. James was a bit too self-
centered to watch Remus carefully enough.

And while Peter tried to be observant, he had such trouble with memories and connecting the dots.
He probably could have watched Remus doing exactly what kept him out of the dorm those nights,
but would have forgotten completely about it. He was confident that he was just that thick.
 The group was sitting around the common room, doing their homework. James had eagerly taken
Remus’ homework and begun to complete it for him. Sirius, the stalker, was writing an infinitely
long essay, taking up so much of the table that Peter was forced to awkwardly stand several feet
away from the table. He kept trying to hold his levitation spell on an apple, but it refused to stay in
the air for more than a few seconds.

Peter was going in a circle, testing his spell on the apple, cursing his own failure, checking the
textbook to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, repeat. Peter could feel the other boys passively
watching him, and his stomach coiled in knots.

“You’ll get it, Pete, don’t worry.” James said, trying to be supportive. “Keep at it.” He lifted his
arm, giving Peter the thumbs up with his eyes still on Remus’ homework.

Peter groaned. “I’m trying. I’m sure it’s the movement I’m getting wrong… the book says to use a
‘smooth, serpentine action’, but I’m not sure,” he said, drifting out of his sentence to resume his
experimentation.

Remus shook his head, suddenly paying attention to Peter. He lifted his wand, stating, “it’s not like
that. It’s like an S shape on its side. Look.” Remus performed a flawless levitation spell on Peter’s
apple, using just the motion that he had described.

“An S shape, are you sure?” Peter stared at him. Well, only one way to find out, he thought, casting
the spell. “Wingardium Leviosa!” He tried to copy Remus’ movement, and it worked! The paper
lifted upwards and did exactly as Peter wanted it to! He wasn’t a failure of a wizard after all! “I did
it!” He grinned broadly, “An ‘S’ shape, why didn’t it just say that in the book?!” Seemed
ridiculous that the book did not include that very important piece of information. Remus was a
lifesaver.

“Well done, Pete.” James smiled, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “You should be a teacher,
Remus.” Remus blushed, a proud but flustered expression on his face. “I’m nearly done with this,
just need to check something – can you pass me Magical Theory? The Waffling book?” James
asked Remus, and Peter turned back to his levitation spells.

He was just really stoked that it was working at last. He felt relieved, like his status as a magic-
having Pettigrew was safe. He scrunched up more paper into balls and started levitating them
around the room, his mood significantly brighter.

Chapter End Notes

can you tell i had no clue what to say for the chapter name? lol
anyway merry Christmas yall im updating again!
yeah uh so i recently introduced my friend to the marauders fandom and they're
reading this fic, not even having read atyd and only hearing about this entire thing
from my neurodivergent rambles at 11:27 pm every night
so hey v how r u? get a hobby bro
 Quidditch Practice, First Year
Chapter Notes

Do i think peter gets panic attacks? Yes. yes i do. Does anyone else? Probably not. But
its my fic so i get to decide. enjoy xoxo

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Friday 15th October 1971

Peter was ecstatic about his mastery of the levitation spell, practically floating through the air as he
walked around with his friends. Sure, James and Sirius were probably the best in the class, and
Remus was some kind of bad boy genius, but Peter had proved to himself that he deserved to be
here with them. That was all he really needed. He was a wizard, a real one.

His fear of heights becomes somewhat apparent during Madam Hooch’s first flying lesson. He was
much less scared than Remus, but he lacked the incredible skill that James and Sirius had. He
knew how to fly, Philomena had taught him that. He also knew how to fall. He forced himself to be
careful. He was sure that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was.

“Right, mount your brooms please, ladies and gentlemen,” Madam Hooch shouted at the class,
“Nice strong wind today, so I want you all to take good care. Potter, no showing off!” James and
Sirius snickered as Hooch sent him a suspicious look. Peter stared at her for a moment, realizing
exactly how much she looked like an owl, with her piercing yellow eyes and short, spiky, silver
hair.

“I’d like five clean laps around the pitch,” she announced, and Peter internally groaned. He liked
flying and all that, but he really hated having to do it like a class. “Then a good landing back here
from each of you. Mind the puddle and remember to lean into the wind where possible. Use it to
your advantage. Five points to whoever’s back first.” Hooch said, blowing her whistle immediately
and coldly watching the first years rocket themselves into the sky.

Peter lifted off the sky pretty easily, fitting comfortably into the middle of the class. He was not
about to push himself and be tying for first like James and Sirius, but he definitely was not jealous
of Remus, who was last to take off. Remus looked terrified, wanting nothing more than to stay on
the ground. Peter felt sorry for him as Hooch began to yell at him, but he turned back to his own
course. Remus will be fine, he thought.

He cruised through the first three laps, only wobbling once or twice during them. Peter considered
that a win. He did bump accidentally into Mary Macdonald once, who had glared at him intensely.
He apologized profusely, making sure he was more careful of the wind gusts after.

James definitely won the race against Sirius, who was now flying at the back with Remus. James
was already finishing while the rest of the class started on their fifth lap.

Peter was about to lap Lily Evans, who was flying pretty steadily, when a big gust of wind blew
through the field and knocked Lily right into Peter. The two of them didn’t fall off their brooms
completely, but Peter’s confidence dissipated and he instantly clenched up.
His broom started to shake violently, and Peter was struggling to focus on flying when the ground
behind his broom looked like it was roaring toward him. His breaths felt uneven and shallow. He
felt like he was just going to slip off his broom and plummet to the ground. Peter’s mind flashed
with the unwelcome image of his own death, and he trembled.

He heard Lily speaking to him, but the loud pumping of blood in his ears wouldn’t let him
understand her words. She grabbed his shoulder, and the world stopped spinning for a moment.

“You’re Peter, aren’t you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there, it’s completely my fault.” Lily said,
holding eye contact with him. Peter nodded stiffly, his hands white-knuckled and gripping his
broomstick tightly. “You’re a really great flier, Peter! I like how you move in the sky.” Lily added,
and Peter stared at her.

“Really?” He asked, his heart rate calming.

“Yes,” Lily grinned. “It’s much more natural than a lot of other people in our class. And it’s not
annoyingly showboat-y like Black and Potter.”

Peter laughed uneasily. “They are quite showboat-y sometimes, aren’t they,” he mumbled, and Lily
nodded.

“Let’s head for our landing, yeah?”

Peter took as deep of a breath as his pounding heart could manage, but followed Lily’s lead to the
ground.

They landed smoothly, and just as Peter caught his breath, he turned to thank Lily. If it weren’t for
her, he would surely have fallen off his broom. He opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her
head, cutting him off.

“Don’t mention it, Pettigrew. I’m sorry I knocked you in the air like that.” With that, she fixed her
uniform and walked briskly over to her friends.

Peter looked back to Remus and Sirius, who were roughing each other up in the air, grinning like
madmen. That’ll be the death of them, Peter thought solemnly to himself. A shame, really. I was
just beginning to like them.

The two boys crashed into the earth, drenching themselves in the muddy puddle they had chosen,
sliding in the dirt for a few moments before they stopped moving. Madam Hooch and a gaggle of
their classmates ran to them, all very excited for very different reasons.

“Black! Lupin!” Madam Hooch called, stomping over to them. Peter could only see the back of her
head, but she looked irritated. Completely unlike the other Gryffindors, who were pointing and
laughing happily at the two boys’ mess.

James found Peter in the crowd, because of course he did. They stood next to each other, watching
the scene go down. Peter figured that James wanted congratulations on winning the race. He
stayed silent for another moment, only to let James want it more.

“What did I say about minding the puddle?” Madam Hooch shook her head, her posture easing.
She didn’t seem angry anymore, just exasperated “A point each from Gryffindor. You’d better go
and wash off in the showers. Off you go.”

As Remus and Sirius stumbled off, James made a move to follow them. Peter whacked him in the
arm.
“Nice flying, ya bloody prick.” Peter grinned at James, who lit up instantly.

“You think so, Pete?”

“Of course!” Peter rolled his eyes. “Ya were the fastest one out there, weren’t ya?”

James smiled and nodded. “Yes sir! I’ll be on that quidditch team in no time, just you wait.”

Madam Hooch heard that, walking past them. She glanced at James with her cocky yellow eyes
and smirked. “I’ll be holding you to that, Mr. Potter.”

James was illuminated. For a kid who got compliments often, he never acted like it. He reveled in
each nice thing that people said about him, as if he’d never heard things like that before.

James and Peter began walking to the broom shack, where everyone else was putting their brooms
away. Peter was still thinking about compliments. Sirius was never obviously pleased with a
compliment unless it came from James or Remus. Remus got compliments and either rolled his
eyes and scoffed, or nodded diligently. Depending on who they were from. Peter never got
compliments, so he wasn’t quite sure how he reacted himself.

Wait a moment, Peter thought, pausing. I’ve totally gotten compliments before, right? Peter
scanned every memory he had, trying to find one. None of his teachers ever did, because Peter
wasn’t good or exemplary in their classes. Sirius and Remus hadn’t, and neither had James. James
had told Peter that he liked him before, but did that really count? Peter frowned to himself as they
put away their brooms.

“Want to just walk back to our dorm?” James asked, breaking the silence. “I don’t think Remus and
Sirius will be headed back here.”

Peter nodded, “Yeah, definitely.”

They set off towards the dorm, James taking the lead by a few steps. Peter was just close enough to
listen to James rattling off about his dreams for quidditch, and he listened intently.

Someone crashed right into him, rounding the corner from a small classroom door, making Peter
stumble to the side. It was a girl, who looked like she was in first year. She had black hair and
brown eyes, and her skin was tan, like she’d spent her whole life in the sun. She was more than
pretty. She was also frantically apologizing, trying to help Peter brush the nonexistent dirt off of
his cloak.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry! I really didn’t see you, gosh. I am just completely blind today, I guess.” She
ran a hand through her hair, not meeting his eyes.

“It’s alright,” Peter interjected, unused to being the apologized-to rather than the apologizer. “I’ve
done this loads of times. No worries at all.”

The girl finally looked into his eyes. She just kind of looked at him for a moment. Peter wasn’t
sure if he’d seen her before.

“Your eyes are lovely,” she whispered, taken aback.

Peter blushed, his eyes darting away. “Thanks, uh, see ya.” Peter ducked around her and strode
away. He felt his stomach churn with nervousness as he caught up to James.

“What was that about?” James had been waiting for him.
 Peter shrugged. “Some girl wasn’t looking where she was going.”

James nodded briskly. “On we go, then.”

Chapter End Notes

uh yeah u guys should read my other Maze Runner Marauders AU fic too :))))
have a lovely day

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