worm / tail

The tears on Peter’s face were enough to send James into another fit of them. He choked on a sob, letting the tears flow freely down his face. After all, he couldn’t stop them anymore, and if anyone cared, well they could bloody well fuck off, in his opinion. He might’ve laughed at Peter’s question, but instead it came out like a bark. Everything felt so off, and James didn’t know quite how to put life back together again. “Well, it means a lot, anyway,” he said, softly. “I know we haven’t seen each other as much recently and I…” James choked back another bout of tears and sniffled instead. “I’ve missed you. It’s so very good to see you–” And the tears that he had tried to keep at bay fell on his cheeks again. James sat down in the nearest seat, head falling into his hands as he tried to pull himself together. Just for the moment. Just for five minutes. James would take five minutes of normalcy again.

Peter hated this, hated seeing his friend so upset. Hated knowing he was part of the reason his friend was so upset. Hated that he was the world’s worst friend that couldn’t do one damn thing right. He wished he could take away James’ pain, but he couldn’t. All he could do was just stand there and watch him cry, which only made him tear up more. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. Wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he closer to his friend, dragging another chair closer so he could sit next to him. Then he placed one hand on James’ shoulder and rubbed circles to try to offer some kind of comfort. “I missed you too,” he replied with a sniffle, and hell did he mean it. He missed James. He missed Sirius. He missed Remus. He missed Lily. He missed all of them. And they didn’t hate him yet. “I’m here now and I’m not- I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. Not until James decided he didn’t want anything to do with him.

Quickly catching Romulus’ agitation as Peter stepped through the doorway – the swishing tail and widening pupils – Remus picked up the cat. “I’ll put him away,” he said, as Romulus hissed at his friend. Shaking his head, his carried the cat into his bedroom, shot him a stern look, and then shut the door. “Your braver than I,” Remus continued upon returning. “I wouldn’t visit someone who’s cat hated me.” Maybe it was meant to be a joke but he could muster nothing in his voice to make it sound that way. He glanced at the floor and sighed. “Better than James and Lily, I’m guessing.” That didn’t say much, considering there were still a hole in his bedroom wall from where anger had overcome him. “Also guessing that goes for the both of us. I was just pouring some tea, if you wanted to stick around. Could listen to some music.”

Peter shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. He’s all hiss and no bite.” He tried to muster up a small smile but it felt too forced so it faded quick and he pushed a hand through his hair. The damn cat did bite him once, but he provoked Romulus so it was his own fault. He stepped further into Lupin’s place as he put the cat away and glanced around. It felt... dark, quiet. Maybe that was just their lives now. “Even if the cat’s owner was your best mate?” he questioned. He was sure if he or James or Sirius had an pet that hated Remus as much as Romulus hated Peter, he would still visit. He let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah... I don’t-” he cut himself off, biting his lips together. This was hard enough for Pete, he couldn’t imagine what the others were going through, especially the Potters He nodded his head idly. “I could go for a cuppa. Got any food? I could cook something up real quick.”

Sirius scowled, the expression meant to be playful, teasing, but he knew without having to look that it held a tinge of darkness that he couldn’t quite shake. “Words hurt, Wormtail.” Nothing was normal about this, not a damn thing, but just being with one of his best friends and shooting the shit, even if it all felt off and wrong, was really the closest thing that he could imagine right now. Peter might be one of the very limited few safe from Sirius’ destructive rampage; he didn’t deserve anything good in his life when he hadn’t been enough for the one person who’d needed it, but the Marauders - his Marauders - they were a part of his soul. Without them, he simply wasn’t Sirius Black, and so the cruel words and harsh glares that had come so easily to him as of late simply faded away. “This is a good start, then.” Sirius held out his bottle as an example, a small, tired smile on his lips. With a nod, he turned to kick off his shoes, taking yet another swig as he did so, before quite literally falling into the offered chair. “If you insist,” he sighed, before daring to confront the territory he’d been avoiding so desperately. “How are you holding up, Pete?”

“You’ll get over it,” he replied dryly, and the something resembling amusement tugged on his lips. Peter knew that he could always rely on Sirius to make any situation even just a little bit easier to handle... even though Black had to be handling this just as bad as he was. Maybe worse. The Marauders were Peter’s family, the Potters were Peter’s family, but Sirius wasn’t just another ‘uncle’ to Harry. He was Harry’s godfather. The brotherly relationship James and Sirius had was something Peter never quite fit into and that was okay. They were still his best mates, along with Remus. He kept the bottle to his lips, glancing over it to watch Sirius fall into the chair opposite him. Everything Sirius did had an air of reckless abandonment about it that Peter had always admired, but there was something edgier in him now. Something darker in his body language and his bite when he spoke. “I’m not,” he answered, and it was the most honest thing he’d said in days. He wasn’t holding up at all, he was falling apart. “It doesn’t feel real,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Feels like a dream- like a damn nightmare.”

It was all too easy for them to get too caught up in work. To fall into that familiar place where they became more Auror than Dorcas. Part of them couldn’t say they minded it all that much, not when being the very best Auror they could set them on the right track to achieve their goal. But the part of them that did mind, that wanted to remember who they were, would never cease being grateful for Peter. “Remind me to wish you luck when you do. You’ll need it to come out alive.” Smile tugged at their lips when they knew that their boss would most likely not take such a thing well, still they’d always respected her for that. “Then I would say it was the best kind of surprise.” They followed him slowly, dragging their feet somewhat as dry words left their lips. “If a lot cliche.”

The ghost of a smile curled on the edges of Peter’s lips. The truth was... Peter was low key terrified of Amelia Bones. She was tiny, but could be one scary witch. Peter didn’t know her that well, but he knew he didn’t want to be on her shit list. “Right, maybe I won’t put in a complaint directly to her, but maybe to the auror’s office in general,” he teased. He knew how important Dorcas’ job was to them though and would never want to take that away from them... completely. But sometimes they needed a break. Peter needed a break from... everything. He needed a break from his own thoughts, and knew that Dorcas was the only distraction that had that kind of power over him. He lead them outside where he had a whole picnic spread ready, complete with a basket full of food (prepared by their favourite restaurant because Peter didn’t have time to cook and plan this) and a blanket laid out for them under the stairs. ‘Cliche as this?” he asked with a playful eyebrow raised.

Plain displeasure was written all over aristocratic features as his attention turned to the boy ( he still refused to acknowledge that he was a man ). The first source of it was the inconvenience caused to what should have been a simple trip to The Ministry and the second was that he just couldn’t stand the other wizard. Whether he had been useful or not was inconsequential when his very being was a constant source of annoyance. “I find it hard to believe that that someone was anyone but you.” There was a sharpness to his airy words. Cloaking his insults with a pleasant tone as though he was dishing compliments instead. “Unpleasantness and you seem to go hand in hand, Mr Pettigrew.”

Well, damn. Malfoy didn’t even hesitate before pointing an accusatory finger. Peter wasn’t a complete prat, he knew Lucius didn’t like him. He never hid his distaste. “Sounds fake, feels fake,” he argued, lips jutting out slightly as he shrugged both shoulders. Innocent until proven guilty, right? And he had already fled the scene of the crime. Sort of. He descended the last couple steps and pushed a hand through his hair. “How do I know it wasn’t you?” he challenged, arms folding over his chest. His own accusatory brow raised before falling again and he rolled his eyes, smirking. “Oh, wait, that would require you to have a mischievous bone in your body, and you’ve always been the fun police so...”

Something about Peter’s energy had always exuded nervousness to Félix. He wasn’t sure why that was what he was reading off from Peter. Or was it only because Félix was projecting, being nervous all the time himself given the things he has to hide. Or maybe this was just how Peter coped. Félix wasn’t close with the boy but he knew that he was one of Potter’s closest friends. Harry’s death was surely hard on them. Perhaps Peter was handling it better than Sirius whose breakdowns he witnessed first hand - Sirius already smashed all of their plates so Félix had to buy wooden ones with the little money he had left. But that didn’t mean the whole situation didn’t take its toll on him. Whatever the case may be, Félix shrugged it off. 

“You’re right,” Félix left out a weak laugh. “I’ll visit another day then.” He followed Peter’s eyes and glanced around, wondering what the other male was looking for. “Er… sure!” He answered. Having someone for company didn’t seem like the worst idea. Especially after the dangerous mindset that he was previously in. “Is there anything I can get for cheap?  I’m trying to save money,” Félix mentioned bashfully. Between buying the plates and wolfsbane, he didn’t have much left in his coin pouch.

Pete let out a breath and the corners of his lips twitched in something resembling a smile as he shoved both hands in the pockets of his robes. “Another day,” he repeated with a small nod. He certainly wasn’t going back into that building, they’d be looking for the dung bomb culprit soon enough and he didn’t want to be there to be found. Felix and Peter weren’t like, best friends or anything, but he heard Fe was living with Sirius now so they would be seeing a lot of each other. In theory... unless everything blew up in Pete’s face sooner rather than later, but he didn’t want to think about that. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied with a one shouldered shrug. “You can get me back later,” he bargained, but had no intention on following through. If Felix offered to pay him back later, he wouldn’t turn him down, but if he didn’t, Peter wouldn’t be upset either. The Pettigrews weren’t rolling in galleons, but he had managed to save enough from his Ministry job in a Gringotts account that he was comfortable. “Come on,” he beckoned, tilting his head in the direction of his favorite sandwich shop that was just a stone’s throw away.

“I’m offering, Mr. Pettigrew,” she said, sighing ever so slightly. “Come along.” She pushed her way out of the Qudditch shop, finding the comfort of the tea shop. There were only two stores on the Alley that might know her face, and Madam Puddifoot’s was one. As she pushed inside, she took seat at her usual table (always open at this time of day, specifically for Minnie, bless Madam) and offered the seat to Peter. “You like chamomile?” she asked, raising a brow. “I feel like it’s the best way to settle nerves right now.” She hadn’t said he was nervous, no, but Minnie could tell. The four boys, the Marauders as they called themselves (even if Minnie would never say that she knew their little nickname), were all very different and Peter was usually the one who held the biggest insecurities of the group. Minnie hoped to help, even if Peter thought she was merely being a teacher.

A cuppa tea with Professor McGonagall - yes, he still mentally referred to her professor even though he wasn’t a student anymore - wasn’t what Peter saw when he saw a Boggart, but if he was an only child he was sure it would be. There was nothing he could think of that scared him more... and he liked her. He really liked her, respected her, was just genuinely fond of her as a person... but he was also sure that she like, had superpowers or something. A built in lie detector. If anyone could figure him out, it was her, and that was scarier than anything else in the whole world. “Right. Yeah. Okay. Cool.” Awesome. “Chamomile’s good.” He flashed a quick, tight lipped smile but it disappeared quickly. “I’m not... nervous-” he started to lie but thought better of it and trailed off with a sigh. “My nerves are shot, yeah. Chamomile should help with that, yeah?”

Eyes fluttered closed at the kiss pressed to their forehead, allowing themselves the fleeting indulgence of getting lost in that tender moment. They only opened once more, slowly, at his whisper. “At some point, I think.” Shoulders shrugged, the action far weaker than usual and lacking their usual conviction. All they knew was that they felt exhausted, body weary from the weight of grief that was pressing down on them. The last thing on their mind was eating something when all they wanted to do was curl up for the night. “I’m not sure I have much of an appetite.” Instead they just pressed a tired kiss against his lips before eventually settling on what they wanted. “I think I just want to sleep. Or rest.” Sleep seemed like such an unattainable goal in that instant.

He returned the kiss, lips still jut out as he nodded his head slightly. “Yeah, I know the feeling,” he replied, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate a proper meal either. It was probably with them, or the Marauders before... before everything. He couldn’t stomach anything anymore. “We can do that, we can sleep,” he offered, dropping his hand, but reaching out to grab theirs. “We can go lay in bed and just...” he trailed off with a one shouldered shrug. He didn’t know that either of them would be able to sleep, but they were both exhausted. They could at least let their bodies rest and... he could hold them, as long as they needed him to. As long as they let him. “Let’s go to bed,” he said, pulling them in the direction of the bedroom.

Things were so far from normal and grief still sat heavily in their chest and yet all it took was seeing his face for the rest of the world to fade out. An almost impossible task when they’d spent almost every moment of their life since moving in with Celandine, painfully aware of the world. It was a rare indulgence, to check out for a few hours and a part of them felt somewhat guilt before they reminded themselves that they’d be no good to anyone tired and overworked. “We’re expanding.” Quip slipped from their lips before a brow was raised, rising to their feet with playful reluctance. “You know I hate surprises.” Something that generally held true but when it came to him, they’d long since built up enough trust that the unknown wasn’t quite as unwanted.

Peter couldn’t imagine how crazy things had gotten at the Auror’s office - the entire Ministry seemed to be buzzing - so he was sure Dorcas wasn’t the only Auror working late nights and even into early mornings. They had a lot of work to do, and part of Peter wanted to help... but he also knew he was the root of the problem. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place and didn’t know what he was doing. Dorcas needed a break though, and Pete could be that for them. “Remind me to put a complaint with Bones,” he retorted, gravitating towards them as they stood up. “Who said anything about a surprise?” he teased, one eyebrow raised playfully. “Maybe I am the surprise,” he continued, reaching for their hand and pulling them with him as he started taking steps backwards and away from their work.

Remus’ apartment wasn’t anything special. Located somewhere off Diagon Alley, the facade was grimy and the stairs creaked and groaned as you ascended to the second floor. The paint on his door was chipping and that was just the outside. The couch was threadbare, the counters were stained, the dishes didn’t match, the pipes moaned and whined when used, and the mattress poked you in the back. But it was home, one of the few places outside of a bar that he could tolerate right now. Here there were no Death Eaters – unless Romulus wasn’t telling him something. Just a whistling tea kettle and the ghost of sleepless nights. He poured the water into his mug and dunked the bag in just as he heard a knock on the door. Romulus was already on his way to check it out. He scooted the cat away from the door with his foot, opening it wider than he would’ve otherwise as he heard Peter’s voice. “Hey,” he greeted with a nod. “Come in.”

Romulus hated Peter, and though he liked to pretend he was just grumpy, he had a sneaking suspician the cat knew that he was a rat. It was like the circle of life or whatever, except the cat couldn’t catch Peter in human form. Instead he just glared and hissed and bit at his ankles. Peter had grown to expect it, and almost found it endearing. His gaze dropped to the cat, who was already retreating (probably disappointed that it wasn’t someone he actually liked at the door) then lifted to meet Remus’. His chest tightened, but he forced someone resembling a tight lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey,” he echoed, running his pulling his lips between his teeth. He could have let himself in but he almost felt like an intruder. He hated that feeling. Walking past the threshold, he tucked his hands into his pockets. “How you holdin’ up?” he asked, turning on a heel to face his friend. He already knew the answer though. He was miserable - they were all miserable.

James had barely left the woods or his home. It had been a few days since he’d been anywhere else; days since he’d seen anyone except Lily, Sirius, Remus, and Marlene. A part of him wondered what had happened to Pete, but he wasn’t thinking; wasn’t properly able to focus on anything except for the fact that his son was gone. After all, the memory still burned in his mind. The claws. The silence. The blood. The safe house was the first place he felt like coming, re-doing the protective charms to the best of his ability before falling into a chair, exhausted. Someone had brought food to the table and James picked aimlessly at a piece of bread before hearing a familiar voice. “Wormtail?” he asked, jumping up at the sight of his friend and wrapping him in a tight hug. “You don’t have to.” He said, tears prickling at his eyes. “Thank you for coming.”

Wormtail. Peter remembered the night they came up with the nicknames like it was yesterday, it was one of his favourite memories - the one he used to cast a patronus. He had been insecure that his animagus form was a small rat, but his friends made him feel valid and loved. His small size ended up coming in handy on more than one occasion, perfect for sneaking around castle grounds. They never did anything to make him feel like he was any less a part of their group, but he felt inadequate anyway. He always felt like kind of a fourth wheel, but he loved those three boys more than anything. They were his family. “Oh, Prongsy,” he replied, returning the hug with a tight embrace. He clutched James’ back, letting him hold on as long as he needed to. He owed him that much, and so much more. Tears formed behind his eyes too but he ignored them. “Of course. Where else would I be?” he asked, choking back a sob.

“Mr. Pettigrew,” she replied, glancing at him over the top rim of her glasses. The sound of the Ms and her last name caused a smirk to fall on her lips. Peter was, of course, the only one who still used McGonagall. James and Sirius always had  called her Minnie, at first to annoy her, but then she became fond of it. Peter had never quite been able to pick it up, but not for lack of trying. He always seemed, at least to her, the most scared of the four boys. Although, they really did need someone in their little group with a healthy amount of fear. “Ah,” she said, sighing heavily. “Yes. Flying away would be rather hard right now, wouldn’t it?” Still, Minnie couldn’t help but stare longingly at the broom before she turned to Peter. She understood, even if she’d never admit that fact. “But, unfortunately we cannot.” Minnie gathered herself, head tilting to take a better look at Pettigrew. “You look like you could use a cuppa.”

Her words hit him harder than he realized. He considered it. Just taking his baby sister and just... disappearing. It was easier than the alternative that he knew was inevitable. She didn’t know that though, and the longer she didn’t the better. “Yeah, I guess not,” he replied sheepishly, looking down at his feet. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth before raising his gaze. “That obvious?” he asked, forcing out a small chuckle. He lifted a hand and pushed it through his hair, stopping at the back of his head. “Yeah, sure. I could use a cuppa. If- If you’re offering,” he added,a  little too quickly. Of course she was offering. Why would she say that if she wasn’t offering? Yeah, Peter was definitely a little (re: a lot) terrified of Minerva McGonagall. Ugh, why couldn’t James or Sirius or even Remus be there for backup?

Augustus couldn’t say his life had quite gone back to business as usual, but it was certainly far closer than everyone else’s seemed to be. The pain of losing a friend was best dealt with by not dealing with it, and the rest of the matters - well, he wasn’t really dealing with those either. Work was as busy as ever, his job at least interesting enough to keep him entertained for brief snatches of time. Absentmindedly whistling a tune, he waved as he noticed Pettigrew. Any personal feelings about the boy aside, he was certainly useful, and that was a big plus in his books. “Fine by me, nothing wrong with putting off work for a few more minutes.” He’d left to grab a bite to eat, and had took his time returning - a little bit longer wouldn’t kill anyone. With a shrug, he sat down on a nearby bench sprawling across it like he had no cares in the world. “What’ve you been up to, then, Pete?”

He chuckled under his breath, but it felt a little forced. Everything that had happened over the past couple weeks was weighing heavy on him. He had always been the more somber of the four jokesters anyway. “That’s the spirit,” he replied dryly, hesitating a moment before moving to take a seat next to Rookwood. He crossed his arms and stretched his legs out in front of him, staring straight ahead. “Oh you know. The usual. Get up, go to work, hang out with the guys, eat a little, drink a little, sleep and repeat.” He bit the inside of his cheek before adding, “Nothing too exciting going on.” He turned to look at the other male, knowing that the other male knew a secret that could get him into a lot of trouble. Actually he knew a lot of secrets, so it was better to keep Augustus Rookwood on his good side. “What about you? Obviously not in a hurry to get back to... what is it that you do again?” he baited, knowing damn well an Unspeakable wouldn’t speak of what it was he does. He rose a playful eyebrow, hint of a smirk curling on his lips.