the boxer

—-

To be honest, if she had anywhere else to go she would have invited him there. But she was sure her parents would not approve of her bringing some random man home. So, here it was. At least he was willing to let her come it. It would have been awfully embarrassing for him to just leave her on the door step. But she was glad Peter was better than that. They’d spent a good few evenings with her sat at the bar whilst he was working. Alecto thought they had some sort of friendship, even if they didn’t know each other that well.

“Much.” She mused, nudging him with her hip. The only thing worse than someone calling her Carrow, was someone calling her Allie. So at least he wasn’t doing that she supposed. She sat herself on a bar stool and just raised an eyebrow at him. “Rude.” She murmured, flicking her red hair over her shoulder. “I’m much more fun than Amycus darling”

Despite his departure from the Leaky Cauldron being postponed due to the arrival of Alecto.  Peter wasn’t bothered, in fact he was rather glad of the distraction. What would he really be going home too? Sure, him and the boys would have a chat but not before retiring to bed for the evening and being left to his thoughts. Thoughts that were currently all-consuming. A few more hours at the now closed, Leaky Cauldron didn’t seem so bad. 

“Good, I’m glad.” He smiled, placing two cocktail tumblrs and a shot glass in front of them both. “Perhaps I’ve saved myself from hearing whatever horrible nickname you’ve conducted for me” Sliding one of the glasses towards Alecto. “Amycus...I don’t know. He can be a real hoot.” Peter chuckled. Turning to gesture towards any of the alcohol in the cabinet. “Pick your poison.”

Despite the recent events at the Summer Solstice Ball, the clientele at The Grave Affair all seemed as if nothing had happened. While it wasn’t exactly packed, there was a good enough crowd for a Thursday night, and no one really seemed all that concerned about the after affects of the ball. That probably said something about the morality of their costumers, but Eleanor didn’t really care, just happy it hadn’t put a stop to her performing. She was just thinking how much she loved just that when she finished her set and she heard a clapping break through the quiet murmuring of the audience. Happy to receive praise of any kind for her talents Elle just grinned, unbothered by the old people disapproving. 

As she packed up her things, not finished with her set for the night, she heard the same man speak to her. “I should hope so, or getting up on that stage would get rather embarrassing,” she smiled. “If you were drunk enough I can’t imagine it would go to well.”

@peterpxttigrew·

It probably looked bad, Peter being at the Grave Affair drowning his sorrows after the events of the ball. It wasn’t exactly his scene, nor was it filled with people his friends typically enjoyed being around. Assumingly, Peter stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the elegant people around him. Peter wasn’t exactly donned in the type of attire typically seen in the cocktail bar. Still though, he didn’t overly care about the people watching as he clapped or as he ordered the cheapest drink on the menu. 

“I’m a bit of a showman myself, even if it is just after a few too many drinks in the Fountain of Fair Fortune.” Peter joked with a shrug, he had never been able to hold a note. Although, he was an alright dancer. “Not half as good as you but I could give it a go. Not sure many would pay to see me though.” 

In truth, Marlene looked haggered. Eyes drawn tired from hours staring at the wall trying to piece her memory back together to even try and make sense of why she was in here. No one was giving her answers, just disdained filled looks at her mere questions which fell of deaf ears. Sat in the corner blinking up at the light that hovered over her head like a watchful spy, a long sigh passed from her lips as a quiet ‘Fuckers-’ left her lips as her fingers went back to chipping away at her nail polish left from the ball. 

That was until her mind was drawn up at the sound of the voice from the corner of her ear. At first it took her a moment to pull herself back to reality, at this point thinking she was starting to hear the voices of her friends like memories in a room that felt colder than home in December. Despite the makeup smudged underneath her eyes and the sadness drawn deep on her face, Marlene tried to force a small smile as she looked over at him from where she sat on the floor. “I think if I played nice with a guard I could get a piano in the corner. Be just like home-.. Just with a fucking barrier- don’t touch it.. trust me.” Marlene spoke as she briefly moved to raise her hand to show the red almost sting like marks on her hand from the electric touch of the spell. “Is everyone okay? Doe, Mary, Remus, Sirius-? ..Are you okay?”

Since walking into the holding cells, Peter felt skittish. He had no idea how Marlene was doing it, remaining in this room with nothing but her own thoughts. The very idea made him claustrophobic. Taking a deep breath, he tried to combat his own thoughts. It was selfish of Peter to think about himself in this situation, Marlene deserved better. All of his friends deserved better. Flickering his eyes across the cell, he managed to come to term with his surroundings. Relaxing his shoulders ever slightly, Peter stepped closer into the room. Closer to his friend. 

“Somehow I don’t think these guards enjoy a karaoke night.” Peter assumed, judging by the stoic expressions on their faces as he entered the holding cell. His eyes glancing over the barrier, and then to Marlene’s scar. A pang in his chest. “Shit Marlene,” He breathed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. How were they meant to get her out of here? “Everyone is trying to help...to get you out of here. But...you...how are you?” It was a stupid question, Peter highly doubted Marlene was alright.

—-

It was late, and really Alecto should have been going home. But home was the last place she wanted to be. She had wanted to be at the Carrow House for a long time. But she was finding it even more suffocating recently. She knew exactly why. Even though she hadn’t properly seen Amelia since they had broken up, some part of Alecto knew she could have gone there if needed. Now she couldn’t. Alecto still hadn’t properly processed what had gone on. Part of her didn’t want too. She’d just busied herself in work, distracting herself by bringing in the money to the Grave. It worked. But at the end of the night she didn’t want to go home.

That’s how she ended up at the Leaky, even though she knew it was closing up time there too. She just made it too. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Alecto?” She mused a little grin on her lips. Grateful that he had opened the door, she slipped in. “Have time to entertain your favourite Carrow?”

Peter should have just closed the door, suggested going to another bar. But instead, he had opened the door. Thomas, his boss, would be less than impressed if he knew that Peter had let a member of the public into the Leaky Cauldron after closing. But as far as Peter was concerned, what Thomas Dodderidge didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Surely it wouldn’t hurt for them to have one drink together after closing? 

Closing the door behind Alecto, Peter chuckled. “Alright...Alright Alecto” holding his hands up in mock defence, “better?” He wasn’t sure where this friendship started. Alecto and Peter didn’t run in similar circles, not even slightly. But Peter would be lying if he said that he didn’t find some humour in their conversations. Raising an eyebrow, he stepped back behind the bar. Reaching for two glasses, “How? My favourite Carrow isn’t here.” Teasing. 

James knew he had to be strong for Peter. He couldn’t leave his best friend high and dry to mope around, he knew he was allowed to be sad – but he also knew he’d rather do it alone as to not bog anyone else down. Especially those more affected. “Hey mate, just wondering when was the last time you ate? Did you have breakfast?” James didn’t, but Peter didn’t have to know that. “If you didn’t we can stop by one of those muggle fast food joints. Would that make you happy?” He looked at Peter with a soft smile hoping that maybe even the smallest of smiles would grace his friends face. “Greasy food and people watching?” He continued, trying to entice Peter.

Peter felt selfish, he had a habit of falling into his own darkness without casting a glance to see how his friends were feeling. Too consumed by his own guilt and misery to notice the others around him were suffering. He needed to realise that his friend were a much needed light, Peter needed to be there for them too. Glancing up from his shoes, “a muggle fast food joint sounds decent,” Nodding, casting a quick glance around the park. Eating greasy food surrounded by friends was perhaps the best recipe to combat a bad feeling. Nudging James with his arm, a small smile on his face. Looking unnatural on his pale features, the result of not having fresh air in a few days. “Thanks....for this.” He cleared his throat, “I know you’ve been having a rough time too....but I appreciate this...a lot.” @jamspctter· 

where : the ministry’s holding cells. 

 Never in his life did Peter Pettigrew think that he would be visiting Marlene McKinnon in a holding cell. Not to mention having an allocated hourly slot with his good friend. Sure, his mates had a tendency to dick around but this? This was deeper shit that putting a few bubbles into a fountain or wearing James’ invisibility cloak and tapping people on the shoulder. Besides, if it had of been anyone. Peter would have imagined it to be one of the marauder’s to be locked behind bars for doing something stupid at a ball. Not Marlene McKinnon. Thanking the ministry guard politely as they cast a spell on his visiting card, Peter walked into the room. Where a charmed barrier held both Peter and Marlene apart. Even the sight of seeing his friend in such a state brought a lump to his throat. 

A quiet tone to his voice, Peter tried to push back his own anger and sadness at the sight for Marlene. Marlene had enough time to think about it all behind bars. Right now, she needed a friend. Coughing slightly, to distract from the lump in his throat. Peter glanced at her with a sad smile. “Merlin, Marlene. I know you said you were getting sick of your apartment..but do you really think this is an upgrade?” Wanting nothing more than to give his mate a hug. 

where : the grave affair 

The Grave Affair wasn’t a place Peter frequented often. It was filled with ministry folks and more often than not, snootier bar clientele that Peter didn’t typically fit in with. Being a bartender though, it was good to be in a bar where your manager wasn’t looking over your shoulder or asking you to hop on for ten while you were out with your mates. Although, the Grave Affair wasn’t the best place for a pint. There was far too much foam and if Ewan Pettigrew had of been here, he would’ve tutted. Their speciality seemed to rely on fancy cocktails and fine wines. Drinks that Peter enjoyed but often didn’t have the money for.  Listening to the singer on stage, Peter clapped when she finished her song. Although, judging by the looks he got. Clapping on a quiet Thursday night wasn’t the most done thing around this joint.  What a load of miserable bastards. 

Taking a sip of his pint as the woman began to pack up her things. “You’re good at that old singing thing..” Peter smiled, “if I was drunk enough. I might even suggest having a duet.” 

where : the leaky cauldron

It was his first shift back at the leaky cauldron since the solstice ball. Unsurprisingly, it was a quiet night. Filled with topping up the regular’s pints and offering them a bite to eat before they retired to their room for the evening.  It was monotonous, Peter was hoping for a busy shift. Something to distract him from his own thoughts, thoughts that had the ability to make or break him. Bored, Peter had spent the whole evening labelling different bottles and washing glasses. It was a sigh of relief when he finally managed to get the last customer out the door. Or so he thought.  Peter Pettigrew was about to close the door, when he saw someone shove their foot in the doorway to stop it from shutting.  Surely, this couldn’t be a robbery? Did he really have that shit luck? 

Evidently not, Peter acknowledged as he the lamp illuminated to show Alecto Carrow, a woman he had been running into a lot more as of late. “Evening, Carrow.” He raised an eyebrow, “I was just about to close up for the night.”  Peter acknowledged, as he opened the door to let her in. 

where : battersea park. 

tw :  mentions of death

Peter hadn’t been able to leave the apartment for days, encompassed with anger and regret over the events of the Summer Solstice Ball. It felt closer to home this time. He had been speaking to Amelia earlier in the evening, arranging to teach her how to box. It didn’t feel real. It had thrown Peter into a lurch. Peter didn’t care to see what was going on outside, especially not if it was that dark. He was avoiding letters from Tom offering him more shifts. As far as he was concerned, everything and everyone that Peter loved was safe between these four walls. Peter hadn’t fully realised how out of sorts, he must of been until James had tossed him his shirt and suggested them going on a walk. 

Glad for the fresh air, Peter was quieter than usual. Watching as muggle families went for ice-cream, happily. Blissfully unaware of the dangerous condition of a whole other world they didn’t know about. How peaceful that must be. “Hmmm?” Peter hummed, his attention going back to James. “Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said, mate.” 

A laugh immediately fell from her lips. “No judgement here,” Amiria shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve been working with alcohol since Hogwarts so I’ve had plenty of time to build up both a tolerance and willpower,” She explained casually before taking another sip of her drink. “I would, yeah,” It wasn’t bad. Obviously it wasn’t anything compared to the stuff that she made but it was still good. “Although outside of here, I definitely make better stuff.”

“Good I’m glad,” Peter nodded, glad to have found someone decent to chat with at the bar. There didn’t seem too many people willing to strike up a conversation, unless it was in pursuit of a match. A concept that made no sense to Peter. “You and me both,” He raised an eyebrow, “It’s a lot better to be in front of the bar rather than behind it. But if I were working tonight, I’d definitely up my measurements of alcohol a little.”  @hausofmacnair· 

@peterpxttigrew·

She’d told herself one drink only at the beginning of the night, but she was probably somewhere closer to three or four by now. It didn’t count as long as she wasn’t getting drunk, she rationalized to herself, but her voice was probably still a little too loud as she commanded “Get your arse over here! I haven’t seen you all night.” 

The song certainly wasn’t something she’d choose to of her own volition, but then again, neither was the wine. “You have no idea how good it is to see you. I was letting a rather pretentious old man explain the political motivations behind the Gargoyle trike of 1911 to me just so I didn’t look like I was standing alone- although, I’m not going to say I wasn’t mildly interested,” she shrugged. 

Laughing warmly, Peter got up at the sound of Lily’s voice. He was glad to see a friendly face. Making his way across the ballroom to Lily, his voice matched her volume. “Alright, Alright. Don’t lose your cool, there is plenty of Pettigrew to go around this entire ballroom.” A grin on his face as he sat down beside her. 

“The Gargoyle Trike of 1911? Wowza Lils.” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “He sounds like a hoot. I think he might be your soulmate, perhaps ideal matches do happen at this ball after all? Do you think he has a sister?” Peter teased, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh stop you’ll make me blush.” The woman joked with a wave of her hand. Scoffing lightly with amusement at his words, Marlene quirked an eye brow lightly as her gaze pulled to look at the dancing figures who’s melancholy expression was enough to drown the evening in solemn violin screeches. “I don’t think they could even fathom the concept of fun.” The witch laughed lightly. “When don’t I? Mayhem is my middle name.” She grinned, a devilish glint to her eye as she looked over at her friend. “So what did you have in mind Pettigrew?”

“I doubt these people have had fun their entire lives,” Clearly, none of these folks had ever been to a proper party if they thought this was fun.  “I think they would implode if they ever stumbled upon one of our Gryffindor Quidditch Parties.”  At the suggestion of causing mayhem, Peter had a few ideas floating around. Ideas that could cause chaos and disappointment on the faces of pureblood grandparents everywhere. “I knew I could rely on you for a laugh,” Peter grinned before gesturing towards the fountain. He was definitely rusty from his school days. “We could fill it with bubbles or hijack people’s matches by smuggling them a good old laughing potion. Watch as they embarrass their family name.” 

@peterpxttigrew· 

It was times like these that James was more than thankful for the people he held near and dear to him. Peter always seemed to make him laugh, a welcome distraction to everything happening around him. “Listen mate, my parents aren’t here but I will gladly accept your hand in marriage,” he dramatically took Peter’s hand and stared deep into his eyes. “I would have no one else but you by my side as my loyal husband,” James fluttered his eyelashes before breaking character and laughing, giving Peter’s hand a squeeze before letting go. “If only you could have children, because I feel like I want some snot nosed little James’ running around,” he handed Peter his drink and took his own before walking him over to a more empty part of the bar so they could comfortably chat and drink.

“I’ve talked to Remus he’s not engaged, haven’t seen Sirius but I’m betting he isn’t either,” James chuckled taking a sip. “If any of us come out of this engaged, then that would be a story to tell.”

“I’m surprised to learn that the Potter’s aren’t here.” Peter raised an eyebrow, “we all know they would put all the other parent’s to shame.” Peter recalled summers spent at the Potters, he had always tried his best to keep his friends away from Chudley. Holly Pettigrew was always willing to have the boys for the weekend, Ewan wasn’t the most welcome to the idea. “Loyal Husband? Don’t ask too much of me, Prongs.” He rolled his eyes, “I’ll be there for you and James Peter Pettigrew Potter Junior but that’s where my commitment ends.” Peter grinned, also breaking character as he broke into laughter. 

“Remus and Sirius better keep their wits about them, our apartment is already overcrowded. I can’t take their betrothed fighting for the bathroom as well.” Peter laughed, “Remus might start crying if he has to buy toilet roll for another four people.” @jamspctter· 

Amelia stood to the side, more gobsmacked than anything else. As much as she’d hoped for the contrary, she’d known that something would go wrong tonight. That was half the reason she was even there, playing the part at this stupid ball rooted in purist tradition and full of people she despised. She wanted to be on the scene should anything happen. But she certainly hadn’t expected the first hurdle to be two wizards the age of her dad throwing ridiculous punches at each other in a side corridor. She exhaled a deep sigh, more confused than anything, before smiling at Peter. 

“I’ve never been in a fist fight in my life, and even I could have told them that,” she admitted. She probably would have looked even more ridiculous if she’d been the one trying to throw right hooks; but she’d seen enough muggle telly to know that it wasn’t supposed to look like that, at least. Thankfully the situation dissipated quickly, leaving nothing more than confusion over the small crowd that had gathered. “Well, that was random. Why were they fighting again? And why… fists?” she asked the man next to her with a frown. @peterpxttigrew·

Watching how the crowd parted as the fight took place, adrenaline coursed through Peter’s veins. It reminded him of what it was like to go back into the ring. With Ewan Pettigrew giving him a stern pep talk and run through of their tactics, tactics that had been taught after school and days off.  Ewan Pettigrew had raised a fighter, and although a majority of the time, young Peter dreaded having the crowds watch him.  In those moments, he had control, a control that Peter hadn’t experienced in a long time since giving up fighting. Peter Pettigrew in the ring was tactical, he knew what he was doing. Unlike the Peter that currently stood in front of Amelia Bones. 

“Can’t half tell they are posh.” Peter joked, winking at Amelia cheekily. “Neither of them could fight their way out of a paper bag.” A pause, in those very moments he sounded like his father. A slight pang in his chest, knowing how his dad would have barked a laugh at the effort and pushed Peter to show them a real fight. A Ewan that was still proud of Peter, their relationship wasn’t like that anymore.  “I’d say that alcohol was the main culprit.” A chuckle. “Fists...well boxing is a great way to defend yourself. My dad is a boxer...has his own training school. ” Taking a sip of his drink to rid of the lump lodging in his throat. “Taught me all about it back in Chudley. It’s proved useful over the years, if you ever forget a spell. You can always rely on a good old uppercut to do the trick.” @ameliabcnes· 

—-

“So you’d wear out my last name instead?” Alecto mused, a little smirk on her lips. To be honest she didn’t erally mind what he called her, as long as it wasn’t mean. She was used to people calling her all names under the sun. So she supposed being referred to by her surname awsn’t that bad really. “Don’t say that….” She mued, a smirk on her lips. “Because I can be very creative with my nicknames” And she actually didn’t have one for him right now, but she was going to use all of her creative abilities to find one. “Just give me some time and I’ll have one.” But probably not tonight when she too busy doing other things.

“I can relate….and I’ve been coming to these things my whole life” She mused with a laugh. She’d spent so much time at balls that one might think she was used to them. But it was different this time, and she really did hate it.  “Told me he dind’t really want to be here with me the moment we got through the door.” Great way to start her night. Alecto just laughed, shaking her head. “I’m sure my mother would adore to marr me off to you to get me out of her hair”

“If I had to” Peter mused, his tone playful. “Carrow,” A smirk on his face as he leant back against the stone balcony behind him. Toying with an unlit cigarette between his index and second finger, “Don’t worry about hurting my feelings, I’ve been called plenty of unflattering nicknames by customers, I’m practically made of stone.” Peter raised his eyebrow, he definitely wasn’t but Alecto didn’t need to know that, just yet. “You’ll have to let me know the next time you’re in the Leaky. Hey, if it’s a really good one, you could get a free drink out of it?” 

“Fuck, I can’t imagine...how fun that must’ve been.” Peter could barely stomach a few of these a year,  he couldn’t imagine having an entire lifetime of galas under his belt. Raising his drink to his lips, Peter didn’t even manage to take a drink before words of disgust fell from his lips. “What a fuckin knob.” Weren’t the blokes who attended this ball meant to be chivalrous? Was that not the entire point? “Well, I don’t know much about all this posh shite...but he sounds like a fool. I mean look at you...” A pause, his tone softening. “Anybody in this joint should consider themselves lucky to be seen with you.” @alectocxrrow· 

—

Alecto just raised an eyebrow as she watched him. “I have a first name you know” She would never get mens need to call people by their surnames. It felt so weird to her. And she also had a perfectly great name that people should use. She supposed she wasn’t super close, and didn’t know Peter that much. But they had a spent a few late nights at the Leaky. “Or should I start calling you Pettigrew?” She mused, smirking at him. She probably wouldn’t. 

Alecto laughed, rolling her eyes at him. “You’re not behind the bar for one.” She teased, the smrik on her lips. Before she’d been a barmaid herself, she wouldn’t have given Peter the time of day, but she supposed he wasn’t that bad. “I’ve done some dancing, but my date was poor company. How about you?”

“I don’t want to wear it out,” Peter quipped in response, a light hearted smirk on his face. Calling people by their last names had always been a bad habit of Peter’s, almost everybody he knew was either referred to by a nickname or by their last name. It was quite annoying habit but somehow it seemed to work well when flirting. “You can call me whatever you like.” He responded, raising his eyebrows. Clicking his tongue as he spoke. “Pettigrew doesn’t that nice a ring to it. So I’m open to options.” 

“That’s true,” Peter chuckled, his head tilting slightly as he spoke. “I feel exposed without the bar in front of me.” More often than not, it did act as a security blanket. Plus, it was exceptionally good for sticking the finger up at difficult customers without them seeing it.  “Bad company? How so?” Genuinely interested, he shrugged when Alecto asked him about his own evening. “I don’t quite think I’m going to marry a gem of pureblood society anytime soon. Their fuckin’ loss though.”