Peter Pettigrew

(  Zexy  ,  28  ,  BST  ,  He/Him  ,  N/A  )  →  diagon  alley  is  home  to  many  ,  a  direct  connection  to  the  wizarding  world  ,  right  in  the  centre  of  london  ,  many  people  like  PETER PETTIGREW  ,  spend  majority  of  his  time  in  the  busy  alley  ,  people  know   him  as  the twenty two year  old  who  is  a  past  Gryffindor  graduate  ,  now  working  as  a  /  to  be  a  CLERK IN THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT  ,  i  think  the  role  suits  them  perfectly  as  i  think  they  are  OBSERVANT  but  also  they  can  be  COWARDLY  ,  but  that's  just  my  opinion  .  (  Dylan Minnette  )

Link to Biography - Here

More info under the cut! :D

Sirius’ eyes lit up at that information. He squeezed his shoulder and then brought him in for a hug. “Congrats, Pete!” He said with a laugh then after, totally forgetting about the broom for a moment before he glanced back at it. He shook his head a second. “I.. was thinking about it. Thinking about maybe talking to James about joining him but.. I guess I’m just scared that I might end up hatin’ it eventually if I do take it on full time.” He looked back at Peter, “But anyways– tell me more about your promotion. How is it going?” 

-

“Oh-” Peter let out a little gasp as he was pulled into a hug, his cheeks going red from embarrassment, “It’s not that impressive,” he mumbled, never one to be comfortable being praised. He licked his lips as he was let go and his gaze flitted to the window, to Sirius and then back and forth again. “Sirius, you’d be really good at it, and even if you don’t like it in the end, you’ve got lots of time for other careers. I think you should go for it,” he smiled slightly, “You and James were hell together on the pitch in school.” he waved a hand slightly as the subject came back to him, “Oh it’s really boring. I just do paperwork and plan things for the aurors.”      

The Case of the Post-Murder House

  Kingsley had been up a majority of the night, trying to pinpoint little details that he had missed. He had only gone home for a couple of hours and returned not that long after. He heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Peter. A warm welcoming smile crossed his face at the other to let him know that he was listening to him. “What’s up?” He asked as he set the papers down that he was looking over which contained some new information presented by a hit wix.  

   He set down the case that he was working on previously to pick up this second one. Kingsley had been waiting for this information before making any sudden moves. The wife had a pretty decent lawyer which made his suspicions even more so that she was the suspect. He took the parchment to look over the details. “Of course. It makes sense.” He said before he glanced up at Peter, “Are you alright with it?” It wasn’t that Kingsley didn’t believe that Peter was capable but he knew that this line of work wasn’t for everyone and he just wanted to make sure the other was okay with going. 

Peter would be the first to admit that he wasn’t keen on the idea of being out in the field, however, years of midnight sneaking with his friends in Hogwarts had given him more than enough experience. “Yes sir.” he said with a small nod, “They want a double-check of the inventory of the property as well just in case. Given this case was on the knife-edge as was, they couldn’t afford to be caught out; it would only reflect badly on the department and they couldn’t afford that right now.

Regulus did not particularly like Pettigrew greeting him by his first name at work, as if they had any sort of connection. Correcting with Healer Black felt just a little too pretentious, though, so he hoped the look of annoyance on his face got his point across. “I assure you, I’m perfectly alert,”    

It was far from the worst thing he’d heard on a shift, though, so he simply waved his wand at the exam table. It lowered itself to a height more suitable for someone with a leg injury to get onto. “How long ago? Did you hear any crack or pop?”

-

“It wasn’t an insult,” Peter said quietly, looking down some; it was hard for him to look people in the eye, even ones he knew. Despite Sirius and his brother’s relationship being... complicated he wanted to try and be polite. With a grimace, Peter hobbled to the exam table and a hiss of pain whistled through his teeth as he moved onto it.

“I don’t know,” he said after a moment, his quiet voice tight with discomfort, “It about an hour and half ago, I didn’t think to listen but it’s around my knee.” he gestured to the knee in question, still covered by his pants since a part of him really didn’t want to look.    

benjy laying tucked in between the couch and peter an arm lazily wrapped around peter to grab some crips as he shoves a mouthful into his mouth. “mmmmhmmmmm,” he says with a mouthful of crisps and finally swallows the mouthful. he smiles down at their laced hands as he stares at the television box, gaze not meeting peter’s as he hears him talk. brows furrow at the mention of making their relationship public as he sits up and his dark brown hues meet peter’s. “right, blink twice if you’re lying to me, like this.” he says demonstrating with his own eyes. he never thought that he would see this day coming any time soon, his brows remain knitted together. was this some sort of joke or something? though his hand doesn’t pull away from peter’s laced fingers. “is this real? as real as me training unicorns instead of owls?” he says half jokingly. “we can finally, be public? is that what you want though? like….. really want?” 

-

Peter couldn’t help the small, but genuine smile Benjy’s antics caused, the man was just so free and open, for someone like Peter who shoved everything down it was a small pleasure to watch him be so comfortable all the time. He let out a quiet laugh and ducked his head, leaning his forward against one of Benjy’s thick arms and shook it a little, “Stop it, you’re being silly,” though he understood the surprise; he’d been the one so determined to keep what that had as big a secret as possible.

“M’not lying, I just...,” he swallowed and looked up, the nerves obvious though he forced his gaze to meet Benjy’s “It isn’t fair to ask you to hide away, with me, and I don’t wanna hide either,” he added quickly, “So I’m scared but, I don’t think we’re gonna stop being us anytime soon.” Benjy had stuck with him this long after all, “I’d rather not scream it from a rooftop but, our friends? I think they should know... If they haven’t figured it already since we always leave Order meetings at the same time,” he added wryly, his cheeks flushing red; he’d bet James, Remus or Sirius had a very strong inkling.      

“oh shit,” he says realizing that it was broken. being a healer was far from something that g was good at.  it was always something that he wanted to learn but he had never gotten around to it. “okay okay– here put an arm ‘round my shoulder. then we can apparate to st. mungos, if you’ll let me.” he says realizing that he barely knew the other. though he did see the other enter and leave the ministry of magic far often than not. he probably had a much better job than him being in the department of misinformation, everyone just called them gossipers or leeches trying to get anyone in trouble when in reality they were just trying to keep the facts misconstrued. it was unfortunately a good job for g because more than half the time people forgot that he was around, no one pays attention to the international wizard.

-

“Oh shit what!?” he asked, in a panic, though you could only tell from his tone since the volume was little above a whisper; he hadn’t properly looked at his leg yet, he really didn’t want to see how bad it might be, but for a stranger to show this kind of concern he was willing to get it wasn’t good.

He swallowed, face gone pale (well, paler) from the pain and nodded his head jerkily, “O-okay, thank you, Mr?” it was as much a question as a title; he wanted to at least know what to call the man who’d bothered to help while most others kept their heads down and their stride swift. He moved his hands on the grubby floor and tried to get his get his good leg under him, a flare of pain erupted from his leg again and he let out a gasp, lunging for the man’s shoulder and likely gripping it too hard. “S-sorry.”    

“That’s not the end of the world, then.” Cora couldn’t help the false lightness that crept into her voice, the same as when Lucie had fallen on her broom last summer or when Marcel had gotten into her gardening shears. It never did well to show worry when someone else was upset– that was when kids started crying. “Parchment’s replaceable.”   

The problem was, she realised as she saw the injury, that Peter was an adult man. Cora, at five foot tall on. a good day, was unlikely to be able to get him to his feet, much less to support his weight for any meaningful amount of time. “Do you think you might be able to put some weight on it if I conjured a splint? I’m no healer, I’m not sure I could do much more.”

-

“No,” he mumbled, red-faced with shame. What did feel like the end of the world was the other employees (very few of whom he recognised) continually streaming out of the ministry and seeing him lying at an awkward angle, one knee in a puddle, a very cold puddle.

He looked up a little, honestly surprised she was willing to go to these lengths to help him, “U-umm, I think so?” he questioned, shoving the last of his papers into the bag and used his hands to try and get his good leg under him; a quiet whine blew threw his teeth as the movement jostled his injured leg, but he’d endure it to get out of this mess a little quicker- god he was such a moron, “Thanks,” he said, quietly, “I umm... appreciate the help.”    

When: Present Day (Game Time) - Morning Where: Ministry of Magic - Level Two With: Kingsley Shacklebolt - @shacklebcltk​​​

There was rarely a dull say in this department and Peter again found himself handling the paperwork of one of Kingsley Shacklebolt’s cases; the two had been paired up, given they were both excelling in their roles and while it did make sense, Peter worried he wasn’t good enough to help the top-notch auror. “Excuse me, Mr. Shacklebolt??” he asked, knocking then stepping inside the man’s office.  

“The team who examined the murder scene at the Middledown case felt they needed someone with a keener eye to look over the place.” he said. It was pretty interesting on the face of it. A wealthy couple (both half-bloods with seemingly no ties to the ongoing tensions) had the Obliviator’s going all night after duelling one another in the house till the wife had murdered the husband. His body had been… Well, he was very dead. But, despite the overwhelming circumstantial evidence the wife insisted an intruder had broken in and attacked them both.

And, without her wand, they had no way to one hundred percent disprove her story.

“We’ve been instructed to explore the property and try to find the suspect’s wand,” he explained, handing the parchment over, “I’m going with you to document a few final parts of the scene for the pre-hearing paperwork.” he paused and added, “I hope that’s okay?”

Shit. It was Peter. Had she noticed sooner, she likely would have been a little nicer with her words, but it was too late now. It wasn’t because she necessarily liked Peter, more because she felt sorry for him. He wasn’t like the rest of his friends, who were brave and outspoken. In all honesty, she didn’t see what they saw in him. But, Liz would forever attempt to be the bright light at the end of every tunnel, and went out of her way to be kind to those she didn’t understand.

“Sorry, Pete,” Liz mumbled, feeling bad for snapping at him. “Didn’t realize it was you.” Picking up a napkin to wipe the syrup from her cheeks, she motioned to him, an invitation for him to join her. “Why don’t you come sit with me? I don’t think I’ve seen you since… Well, since school.”

-

Peter blinked, he recognised the girl (well, young woman) of course; she had been Marlene’s double in school, equally outspoken and, though he’d never voice it, equally intimidating. He’d not seen much of either of them since leaving school and honestly he was okay with that. Though he’d much rather take the younger over the older, at least she hadn’t belittled him every opportunity she got.  

“It’s okay.” he shrugged, “I’ve heard worse things,” not today but then the day wasn’t over yet. Still, not knowing what else to do he took the seat opposite her, both hands clasping his tea and spoke, “What are you doing these days?” he paused a beat then quickly added, “I’m a clerk at the ministry.”

shit,   she   said   silently   in   her   head.   of   course   he   wasn’t   fine,   of   course   this   was   more   involved   than   she   wanted   to   be   with   any   stranger.   she   knelt   down,   hands   on   her   knees   so   her   voice   didn’t   carry   too   far   but   making   sure   he   could   hear   her.   “listen,   i’m   shit   at   healing   spells.   but   i   can   do   a   decent   enough   job   so   you   can   get   yourself   to   mungo’s.   up   to   you   really."   

Augustus didn’t know much about the Marauders, even the name (should he have heard it) meant astoundingly little to the former eagle; he was simply too old to be properly aware of their antics, or to give them any credit for the headaches they’d caused. Had he known more about them, though, he might have argued the response Peter had given him. As it was, though, he was disappointed, but schooled his face to let only the smallest sliver of that disappointment show, present in his eyes (and with a dash of skepticism) as he nodded. “Perhaps you’ll come around, perhaps you won’t. The offer will remain, should you ever choose to take it.” 

Normally, the look of confusion would have brought Gus great joy, even just knowing he’d made someone more insecure in the work they were doing (was it up to standard? And if yes, whose?) usually served as a mood booster – but when it came to Peter, Augustus kept his face blank (or he did, now), a coating of patience as he waited for the man to decide whether he’d argue or not. “Of course no one’s told you you’re bad at it, you’re not,” he said, almost gently (for Augustus). “You’re not,” he repeated. “What I’m saying, Peter, is that I, myself, have watched you complete no less than four tasks since the moment I walked in, while she,” and he paused just long enough to nod at a woman not too far, corralled off and trudging far too slowly through the same task she’d been on when he entered, “is still on the first. The observation I am making, Peter, is that you work hard, and are under-appreciated. You have not convinced me otherwise.” He gave the younger man a smile, though, absolutely no malice in it whatsoever, and nodded once more at the assurance Peter would get Gus’s task tackled, too. “I appreciate your doing so. You know, the only reason I came to hand them off personally is because this always goes so badly. Perhaps that’s changing.”

-

“I’d imagine there’s a time limit on something like that.” The Department of Mysteries was just that: a mystery. Peter doubted he could roll on up whenever he fancy struck him (if the fancy struck him) and demand a tour of the facilities. The more he thought on it though, the more he found a thread being tugged in his mind; what would it be like to have a look down there? Secrets he could keep that were just for him? Or maybe ones he could share with his friends; it’d been so rare for him to ever be the first to know something in school, and that hadn’t changed since leaving.

Peter opened his mouth (though what for he wasn’t sure, it wasn’t like he’d argue back) and found any potential response lacking in favour of his cheeks heating till his face resembled the red of his old school house. “Agatha works for a different sect in the department, one that doesn’t take on as much documentation.” Plus the woman wouldn’t know the definition of the word ‘hurry’ if a howler flew up and screamed it at her, he thought. Still, the compliment was unfamiliar and it kindled something within him he really didn’t want to dwell on very much.

Once the man smiled, Peter’s gaze dipped again, it seemed to flit between his desk, the papers he held and Augustus’ forehead; he certainly went out of his way to avoid the other’s eyes. “W-well, in future Sir, if you send them up addressed to my desk, I will ensure they’re sent where they need to with the strictest instructions.” If only to avoid bringing attention to himself; it was much better to remain unnoticed if you did your job well... or so he’d used to think.    

⛧﹁ Amadeus was cleaning up after a long day. Customers came and went and a few times he had to turn people away. When he heard the ding of the door opening and closing he let out a sigh. “We’ll be closing up soon, please don’t take too long,” he stated without glancing up from his books he was frantically writing in. When a shadow loomed over his papers he lifted his head to meet the face of the other in front of him. “Can I help you?”

-

Peter winced as he stepped into the apothecary, a visit to St. Mungo’s had seen him prescribed a potion to help the muscles in his thigh after his bad fall outside the ministry; he should’ve asked a friend to pick it up but he didn’t want to bother anyone. “Umm, yes I’m here to pick up a potion,” he handed the letter the Healer had given him over and lent heavily on the “S-sorry I’m so late, I couldn’t come on my lunch break.” 

♕ —- His lower lip quivered. It was subtle and over quickly as James’ jaw set stubbornly. This, this wasn’t him. Things always seemed to work out for him and he didn’t see how this wouldn’t be the same. He looked over at Peter when his friend grasped his arm and James gave a lopsided smile. “Thanks, Pete,” he murmured and with a one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder. He gave his friend an affectionate squeeze to show his thanks. “What are you doing over here anyway?”  

-

Peter wasn’t brave or that smart (he thought) but he was good at watching people, the subtle slip from James was enough of a giveaway that the man was hurting. He was so bad with comforting people, usually he was the one who needed it; but James had helped make the last decade of his life bearable, he owed it to him to try.

As James pulled him into a squeeze, Peter stepped around and brought both arms around James’ back, “I’m sorry it hurts. But please let us help- don’t do what I did.” He’d kept his mother’s passing to himself until years later and it’d festered like a wound. Pulling back he added, “I volunteer here once a week, trying to get better at being around people,” he licked his lips, “Why don’t we get a drink, huh? We can talk a little more?” Lord help him but he wanted to be there for his friend.  

Oh lord. This guy was such a wimp. Josie was really regretting stopping. And she really would have just walked away. But she already had a bad reputation has a bitch, and she didnt need to prove it any furhter. “Right….” She mused, biting on her lip as she watched him. She probably should be offering him some help. But she really was not too concerned with actually helping And picking up papers was not the kind of work that Josie did. 

“That’s not good….” She mused, tilting her head to the side as she watched him. “Maybe you could do with a bag for next time? You might not drop it all then….”

-

Peter felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment, wonderful, this time there was an audience to his ineptitude. And while he knew he wasn’t worth much, even he would’ve stopped help someone in his situation. He grit his teeth and reached forward, picking up the rest of the scattered pieces of parchment and shoving them in his bag; he could sort them out again later, his fault for trying to multi-task on his way home it seemed.

“C-could you,” he hesitated, took a breath and overcame himself to ask, “Could you help me up please?” If he got to his feet he could possibly manage an apparation to St. Mungos, or maybe just to his flat.

Augustus never ceased watching Peter carefully. He liked to think he was the sort of man that couldn’t really be surprised anymore, even at his age. Of course, Gus should have, and did, know(n) better than to think yourself incapable of anything; there he stood, anyways … surprised. “You don’t want to see inside the Department of Mysteries?” he asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to have to find a way to change your mind on that.” 

There were plenty under the Ministry’s employ who were skilled at what they did, he and Peter were not the exception to the rule. And despite what Peter seemed to believe, Augustus had met, and worked with, a number of the more senior employees, and found them less efficient than the man before him, though not for age or over abundance of experience to delay them in simple tasks. His arms folded over his chest, one raised to his chin as he considered the information he was taking in. “You are, and they know it, but they haven’t let you know it. Interesting. Well, no. Typical, actually. But you, Peter, you are interesting.” He tilted his head, considering carefully what he wanted to say next. “Maybe it’s for the best you don’t want a tour today. I think if I kept you away for too long, someone who worked here might start to appreciate your presence.”

-

Peter looked up at him, “No,” he said quietly, “Usually seeing something you’re not meant to will only lead to trouble.” And he’d had his fair share back in school but, given he’d been with three of the bravest, smartest and kindest people for those adventures, it’d been doable; on his own? Peter doubted he could choose a mystery hamper at the supermarket without talking himself out of it.

He blinked in confusion and titled his head, “W-what do you mean? No one’s told me that I’m bad at my job,” That’d told him he was good either but he’d recently been promoted to full-clerk instead of assistant, so he took that as a positive sign. He looked down, a very faint rouge covering his cheeks, “I’m really not.” Peter considered himself one of the least interesting people at the ministry, his schoolmates, Order Members, they were interesting, he was just a coward who liked hiding in paperwork and organising things for other people. “I umm,” he licked his lips, glancing up quickly and this time looking at Gus’ nose rather than into his eyes, “I have a rather full schedule, but I can make the time to ensure these parchments are handed back to you.” Then he’d likely go back to just being unnoticed and this would be an odd experience to forget.    

“do   you   believe   in   soulmates?”   even   just   THINKING   about   her   crush   resulted   in   a   blush   that   tinted   her   cheeks,   the   same   shade   as   her   flaming   red   hair,   painfully   obvious   against   her   fair   palette.   “like   do   you   think   that   there   are   some   people   who   are   just   like…destined   to   be   together?   i’m   just…curious.”

-

Peter looked over, his eyes wide as he overheard the question, unsure if she’d even meant to ask him; though when he thought about it, Benjy did come to mind. “O-oh... I’m not sure.” he said quietly, looking down and twiddling his fingers, a faint flush (not dissimilar to Molly’s) on his cheeks, “I think it’s more we meet people who... see us as better than we are and,” he swallowed and shrugged, “-And that’s nice.”