W O R M T A I L

Oh, Alecto had made a miscalculation. The revelation hit her when she saw the other’s eyes move between herself and the person in front of her. Perhaps, he hadn’t been looking to invite her anywhere at all. That made more sense. Alecto thought, humming softly as she waited for the painting beside her to shrink down. “Cursed….well was.” Alecto mused, mentioning why she’d had a painting floating near her in the first place. Brunette waves framed her face, watching with mild curiosity as the boy’s hands scurried away from her eye line and into his pockets. “You don’t have to fear me, Peter. I won’t hurt you.” She murmured, actually managing to put some truth into her hues. No, Alecto wouldn’t hurt him today. He could be useful for a time; she was just betting on the fact that his mind would come to its senses down the line.

Well, Peter didn’t flinch when she laid her hand above his face. She mentally gave him a point for not scaring so easily. Maybe he was a bit tougher than she’d originally assessed. Evergreen hues did notice the way his own looked around, but to her surprise, Peter continued onward without trying to make an excuse to remove himself from the situation. Alecto tugged her coat farther around her body, shielding her frame from the wind as she thought more on his question. The brunette didn’t have a strong preference towards any sweet,  but there was something to be said about the nostalgia of chocolate frogs. “If I’m partial to anything, it would probably be the frogs.  They’re just one of those things that never seem to dull with time.” A classic feature of most adult’s younger years. “What of you, Peter? What do you prefer?” Alecto would start her further exploration of the male on a light hearted note to hopefully lower his guard enough for her to slip past his defenses.

Peter raised an eyebrow. 

         He had never quite inquired to what Alecto’s job was. He knew that it probably dealt with darker items, but cursed objects began to make sense. Peter was smart enough to know that being on the wrong side of a Carrow would be detrimental, but he had not looked much further into it. “Now that’s it’s uncursed do you plan to carry it for eternity ? ” His delivery was flat, as he truly wanted to know the answer. He was not looking to prod the brunette. Peter let out and exhale at her next sentiment. He was sure that Alecto meant what she said in that moment, but it was a fleeting promise without any substance. Peter allowed his shoulders to rise and fall, hands still warmly in his pockets. “I never said you w-w-were.” He responded. Although the words were solid, his body shrank slightly, almost wishing for his rat form to take over. It would be nice to burrow somewhere dark and small. 

        Peter nodded along with Alecto’s words. “I liked them for the playing cards.” He admitted as the outline of Honeydukes came into view. Beyond just himself liking the playing cards, in their younger years the boys had liked trading amongst one another. “Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Jelly Beans are quite good, but can go sour on you all too quickly, and Sugar Quills just don’t hit the spot all the time.” He shrugged again. “I think we are in agreement with chocolate frogs.” He said lightly, curious as to what Alecto wanted from this simple conversation. She’d never taken an interested in him before. It was peculiar that she even agree to the sweet in the first place. He figured that he ought to wait it out, sure that eventually her intentions would become clear. 

      Hogsmeade was surreal, every sound had the petite blonde almost jumping out of her skin, but she’d been dutifully reminded that facing her fears was the only way the still lingering nightmares would fade. The idea was that if Greta came, walked these cobblestone streets, reminded herself that Hogsmeade itself had recovered and so could she. Then, perhaps, the heat wave of flames licking at her while trapped in the burning bar would no longer wake her in the midst of the night. No more Tilden finding her asleep in their bathtub.

She wasn’t entirely sure where her feet were leading her, just that they were going forward and Greta was reminding herself how to breathe properly. Her warm chocolate brown eyes had peeked up to get a glimpse of the nearest shop sign, only to instead be greeted by a fairly familiar face. Her usual easy smile etching across her features, waving back with genuine enthusiasm. “Afternoon,” she chirped and nonchalantly took a step towards Peter. Eyes twinkling brightly like Christmas lights at his offer. “Oh, i’d never turn down the offer of a chocolate frog.” Honeydukes would be perfect. Why hadn’t she thought of that herself? Greta supposed Madam Puddifoot’s for tea had been her original idea to re-associate a positive memory with the quaint village. Running into Peter instead was a happy coincidence. Turning on her heel, she faced the direction of the sweets shop. “I think my lifetime supply of Sugar Quills is getting a bit low,” she mused with a nod.

Peter gave a chuckle. 

        While he did not know Greta very well the light that she chose to surround herself in was astounding. In fact the only other person he had seen with a gleam that bright in their eyes when it came to chocolate frogs was himself. “You know, I’d never turn down a chocolate frog offer either.” He said softly, rubbing the back of his neck as he used his spare hand to motion the pair forward. Peter was sure to fall into step with the girl and felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. It had been a stressful series of days and it had all caught up with him. Physically, and mentally there were striking differences between who the Pettigrew boy used to be and who he was becoming. Whether that was for the better or the worse, he couldn’t quite tell yet. 

.        Peter gave a sheepish smile, nodding a bit. “Honeydukes can surely fix that problem right up for you.” He said lightly, hands buried in his pockets still. Peter took a few steps forward, reaching the door and holding it open for Greta.”After you.” 

open starter.

If James didn’t know any better, his wrist might not have ever fractured. They had told them there was a bone that splintered; one that cracked just so, causing his world to fracture too. Usually, James was good at pushing his troubles away to make room for something brighter. People knew him as sunshine and disappointment was worse than making someone realize he might have emotions too. 

As he left the pitch, James slugged a bag over his shoulder with a sigh. He could still feel the pain in his wrist from when he grabbed the broom just a little bit too tightly. As he tried to stretch it out, he noticed a familiar face from across the street. A slight wave with his good hand, James moved to stand next to them. “What brings you to this side of town?” he asked, almost confused to see someone who wasn’t a teammate nearby. 

“We had lunch plans.”

         Peter understood that there was probably a lot on the Potter boy’s mind, especially having just come from practice. However, it had been the first time in the last month that they had seen one another. Peter crossed the street and embraced James into a hug. He shrugged his jacket closer to himself afterward,  it left him feeling a bit more exposed than he would have preferred. Peter shrugged and looked at his friend. “ How have you been ? ” He asked lightly. It seemed as the days grew colder that he saw the other Marauders more and more infrequently, whether it was a natural progression or his work schedule it was difficult to say. 

        He rubbed the back of his neck, nodding and awaiting an answer. “You still down to grab lunch ? Or have you other things to attend to ? ” Peter asked, his voice even as if he did not care one way or the other. 

coraline couldn’t help the snort that came out as he stuttered. she always knew she was intimidating but never quite so much as alecto or bellatrix was. she was just an angry woman but she didn’t pose much threat after that. unless, she was incredibly intoxicated – then maybe, she’d think about pulling out her wand and slurring out any sort of threats that made their way through her muddled brain. 

she was a death eater, and yet, she hadn’t been that active in all that was going on. rather, she was drowning herself in alcohol and stumbling through the streets trying to rid herself of her terrible memories and past. an eyebrow raised as he said he’d buy her a drink, and she shrugged her shoulders. coraline hadn’t ever spent much time with peter – besides the formal dinners and death eater meetings (if she even bothered going. sometimes christopher dragging her out to these events.) 

she turned around, not bothering to look if he would follow her as she made her way to the leaky cauldron. strolling through the pub, she went straight to the counter to take a seat and order a drink. “he’s paying.” she points to pettigrew. 

“he’s gonna have one hefty bill.” the bartender eyes them both, having been familiar with coraline and how much she drank. 

It’s not funny. 

         The words want to bellow at the edge of his lips as he watched the other snort. How unkind the action was, to immediately cause a wound upon his flesh. Peter could feel it’s sting so tangibly that it hardly felt like anything else. He did what he had learned to do. Be quiet, nod, and continue their trek to the bar as if it meant something to them. Peter wanted to be on Caroline’s good side, or at the very least not her bad side, but the anger that grew within him was stronger than even he knew. Although he would not act upon it now, this was something that he would not forget. 

         He watched with the deftness that she approached the barkeep. There had been rumors about the habits that the woman kept, but Peter hadn’t paid any heed to them until this very moment. “That’s correct.” He said lowly, giving a nod to the barkeep to support her phrasing. It wasn’t as if Peter was hurting for money at the moment. He had his own flat, a well paid Ministry job, if anything his biggest expense were the sweet shoppes that he frequented, as they brought some sort of a comfort. Trading in a chocolate frog for a pint of firewhiskey did not seem too unreasonable. 

        Peter took a seat at the bar, from the glance the bartender gave him and Caorline’s words he had a feeling it might be easier if they were closer to the source of liquor. “I’ll have a firewhiskey.” He said lightly, looking over to see what his company wanted to indulge in. 

There was business to be done in the city. She’d finished removing a curse from an old painting and had to deliver the object back to it’s owner. To her annoyance, the man was late to their meeting point and left her with the painting floating in the space beside her. Alecto had little patience, especially for men who thought her time was something that didn’t matter as much as her own. When the client finally arrived, the witch took the payment without so much as a word and stepped away, letting the painting drop into his hands. He wasn’t worth spewing even false niceties too. She began to walk down the street until a flicker of a wave caught her eye.

Alecto found herself surprised that Peter was initiating contact with her.  Dark hues ran over the boy as she stepped forward, choosing to enter into the conversation with the boy rather than just ignore him entirely. “You want to buy me a chocolate frog?” The brunette repeated as if questioning his braveness by proxy. Maybe the other had more guts than she’d originally thought to give him credit for. Lips pursed, sucking in a breath as she reached to gently pat the side of his face as she gave him a nod. “Very well then, Pettigrew. Lead the way.” The Carrow woman stepped aside, but her eyes didn’t leave his until he started moving. What Alecto was really interested in was judging the other’s reaction to other’s seeing them together. After all, it wasn’t a dirty little secret her and James Potter didn’t get along.

Shit. 

         His gaze had been focused on the person in front of Ms.Carrow, not the young woman herself. Peter frowned to himself, hands burrowing themselves deeper into his pockets. He noticed the painting next to her but thought nothing of it. At least he wasn’t brave enough to inquire about it at all. Peter rubbed the back of his neck with his spare hand, deciding to commit to the venture. At her question he seemed to nod, not trusting his voice enough to do the job for him. He knew the stuttering would be of the utmost annoyance, and he could only control it so much. It was an indicator of weakness that could be pinpointed by either side. His friends knew when he was worried, and his enemies knew when he was frightened. 

         Peter let Alecto’s hand lightly pat the side of his face and he tried to contain a sigh. There were so many people milling about the street, too many for this to be a hidden interaction. In the back of his mind it tugged at him that James would be unhappy to hear of the news, but until she was proved to be something sinister he couldn’t be outwardly hostile. Not to mention she was a talented individual that he did not want to be on the wrong side of. So, with buried hands he began to lead the way to one of his favorite spots in the world. “Do you - uh - prefer chocolate frogs ? Or another c-c-confection ?”

HONESTY HOUR

“I’d chose mmyself.”

         Peter did not hesitate, one of the few instances in his life he did not. He did not mishear the questions, but in the choice between the boys he’d have to choose himself. He was too afraid of death’s sweet kiss that he NEEDED twice the luck. If they were in his position he was sure he would see it from his perspective. Nothing was certain unless you have a snake tattooed on your forearm. Which he didn’t have yet. 

        If he chose Remus he would be condemning the man to a life without the other two. The two that PETER would never live up to. He could not fill in the void that would have been left with James and Sirius gone, nor did he want to try. He could imagine trying to rebuild their relationship without the other two. Peter just wouldn’t stack up, nor did he believe in his heart that if Remus were given the option he would choose the Pettigrew boy. Surely he offered the least out of the three.  

        Sirius in his mind’s eye would fight the world rather than lose his friends. That man was prepared to lay down his life before putting James and Remus in danger, but Peter did not extend that association to himself. Implicitly, in their friend group Peter had felt oddly expendable, as if he could not place what he brought to the group exactly. Perhaps good snacks. He was a collector of those, but aside from that he could see Sirius justifying how the war might need someone stronger. 

        James had a wonderful family and Sirius stayed with him as if they were raised by the same family. And in some sense they were. It was unimaginable that James would consider saving him before the other two. Pettigrew didn’t find the notion sad, but it justified his choice in total. He was at the top of no one else’s list, so he ought to be at the top of his own. It was the single favor he could do to himself in this instance. 

        “I need it more than they do.” 

HONESTLY HOUR

       “Depends.” He paused for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck in contemplation. For most people he could see how the decision would be difficult but it wasn’t, it was just dependent on what you were considering. “I mean Remus is the nnn-nicest, always has been. He’s the one I would come to if I had a problem I wanted to work through. He’s good about that, listening, I would reckon he’s the best at it out of the whole lot.” Though that was not Remus’s only redeeming quality, he had more than that. His only detriment in life had been the hand that life had dealt him.

        “If I wanted to talk about family and what that kkind of loneliness looks like it would be Sirius.” Peter did not often talk about his father, or lack thereof but if he were in the right mood Sirius was the only man to turn to. Remus understood in some ways but was reserved in his hate sometimes. Whereas Sirius was outspoken and bold. He handled nearly everything in the opposite way that Peter would think of. Where Peter saw a wall, Sirius saw a way to climb over, and often he needed that push. 

        Peter considered briefly the remaining Marauder. “If I wanted to get something done I would go to James. Like if I were to be bullied he’d be the first to spring into action. I mean, he’s even sort of done that with the war, must be all that Gryffindor in him.” Peter didn’t know what to quantify James as. Someone who had the ability to create family out of thin air was a miracle to poor Peter. Had he not encountered the Potter boy he probably would have sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, alone, just watching the people pass by. 

        “I s’pose they all have this moments. Although Remus I guess more than most. I feel like I’d want to say it’s Sirius, like I feel understood in a way I wouldn’t be otherwise, but in truth it’s probably Remus. He’s offered the most kindness.”

HONESTLY HOUR

“Sod off.”

         The Lestrange brothers had been bullying him for the past several months to hedge in that direction but he hadn’t committed to anything. At least not yet. It was difficult to say what his disposition was. He loved those boys like they were his own blood, he did, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to put his own life in peril. The weight of it all hung heavily on his plump frame. The accusation flushed his cheeks red and he felt that hot anger flow through his veins. There were few things in the world that were HIS right now. His feelings and choices were the only things left that were his. He shouldn’t have to explain them if he didn’t want to, and frankly he half expected some of the other boys to do that same. 

coraline pursed her lips as peter approached her seemingly out of nowhere. of course, she had known about peter pettigrew. how could she not? with christopher raving on about the man that had been with the very annoying marauders was now flipping sides. it did seem a little out of the ordinary for him to interact with her at all, but sometimes life was strange – and also cruel, as she knew very well. 

“do i look like i want a chocolate frog?” she scoffed at him, having half the mind to shove past him and keep on her walk to the bar. “i’m looking for a drink. you want to offer that?” coraline raised an eyebrow, before shaking her head and her frown seemingly deepening. 

“Uh,”

          Peter rubbed the back of his neck. Caroline was an intimidating enough of a figure that he almost wanted to take his offer back. “Yy-you don’t look like you ddd-” He frowned, his nervousness manifesting itself in a way that he couldn’t hide. Peter shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down toward the ground and taking a moment for himself. “--- don’t want a chocolate frog.” He finished. Although it was not Caroline alone that made him nervous. The whole idea of a war had him on edge. The conflict alone made him question the choices that he had made. As the Pettigrew boy swayed closer to the blurred black edges, closer to the Death Eater’s cause. He felt something vital to his personhood slip through his fingers so easily. 

        He nodded. “I can offer that.” Peter replied. Drinking was never his vice of choice, but he understood how it might console others. He was a man who enjoyed a nice pot roast, or a chocolate frog when the world became rough around the edges. Although as the worry grew so did his lack of appetite. Which was partially why he was headed to Honeydukes. He knew that she didn’t care about any of that though. “I can buy you a drink.” Peter said, walking toward her. 

        He had been sent off near Northern Ireland to rid some muggles of their memories. Something had happened with a train up there and they had seen a few wizards pull out their wands. It had been a short trip, but long enough to feel out of place on the cobblestone street. Peter shrugged his jacket closer, the cool wind brushing against his cheek. The last time he had been here the sky had been ablaze, and the air filled with the mixture of laughter and screams. If he stood too long in one spot he could still hear them. He rubbed the back of his neck with a measured exhale of breath. It was stressful. The tension between war and normalcy hung taunt in the air, Peter was just waiting for something to break. 

       Peter found a frown on his lips, the carving for the sweet shoppe on his mind. He made a sharp left instead of the right he had originally intended. Head down, watching the breaks in the sidewalk underneath his feet. Peter looked up, catching his gaze was another patron on the street. With an uncharacteristic boldness he lifted his hand to wave. There was an ache in the center of his chest the inflamed with a sharp pang. “ Mmmm-might I be able to treat you to a chocolate frog ? ” His voice softer than most, with a sheepish smile he pointed toward the direction he was headed. 

“No, I don’t.. I don’t remember.” Mary shook her head, though she was growing used to answering the question. She’d been stuck in the medical tent since her reappearance– her injuries had been treated hours ago, gauze wrapped around her hands and her rib cage, but the Aurors wanted to keep her supervised. A couple hours of persistence had gotten visitors allowed, though. “It’s lovely of you to drop by, though– I really do appreciate the company.”

“Mary McDonald, I am so happy to see you.”

        Large arms wrapped around the small girl, and for the first time since she went missing it felt like he could breathe again. Peter didn’t care that she didn’t remember a thing, although it hurt their cause that she didn’t. “None of that matters, your safe.” Tears sprung to his eyes and he fought terribly hard to not let them fall down his cheeks. He finally let her go and met her gaze. “That’s all that matters.”