they're better off without you

“I’m just tired. It’s nothing to worry over, honest.”

“I worry when I want to, yeah? Don’t tell me what to do,” Peter smiled slightly. “Go sleep, mate.”

“You don’t get what I mean?”

He echoed the Gryffindor’s words, his own town laced with mirth and utter amusement. There wasn’t a time Pettigrew didn’t spark his interest and curiosity— despite him being involved in the infamous nuisance, the Marauders. Rosier for one was known to be annoyed with their lot, cussing at them whenever he got the chance to do so.

Perhaps it was because the boy seemed different from the rest of them. With Potter and Black’s gargantuan ego and innate arrogance and Lupin’s love for tranquility and mysteriousness.. And Peter, well, he’s a Marauder there was that. He belonged to the group, yet he didn’t have an identity to him. Peter seemed out of the picture; a foolish lost boy. “Too soon.”

The Slytherin would never allow him to get away, not this time. “W h y do I get the feeling you are avoiding me, Pettigrew?” A cynical grin grew upon his features. 

                         "I’d rather you stay, grace me with the pleasure that is your company.“

“Nope. Just explained why I don’t.”

He wished he had a bit of that Gryffindor fire and bravery left that sat in his body a few years before, but it seemed that it had died completely and left him stiff and cold and unable to come up with a proper reply. Peter never really realised how odd he truly was, until he was forced to talk to someone he did not want to talk with. Because it was in moments like those, that he was reminded of how hard it was for him to find the right words.

Something might be wrong with him.

But there was no time to focus on what was wrong with him and how he could fix it, because every word that Evan Rosier spoke made him feel more and more on edge, and he only wished to get out more desperately with every moment that passed. “What’s too soon?” he couldn’t help but ask, the uncertainty of not knowing what Evan was talking about most likely worse than the explanation.

At the question, he fell quiet, feeling trapped. “Not avoiding you,” he said, pushing his lips in a forced, assuring smile. “Just have somewhere to be, y’know? Other things to do, responsibilities and all that kind of stuff. So, yeah.”

“For fuck’s sake, I relief people’s thirst, in case you hadn’t noticed, Peter. I’m deeply hurt by your words. Now it’s going to take you more than a kiss to make me feel better.”

“Seems like it’s opposite day then, huh? But, I am cruel and won’t relief your thirst --- am not really a kisser, you see. I do have some great sandwich making skills that might cheer you up.”

“At least you’re still in the land of the living, Petey. You can take your grievances out on the table later.”

“Nah, mate --- I’ve passed. Sorry, but that table leg killed me. But do not fret, I’m a Hogwarts ghost now and I’ll become Peeves 2.0. It’s great.”

Amos furrowed his brow. “You alright there, bud? No pain’s worse than stubbing your toe, really. It’s actually the worst—— I think scientists proved it,” he joked.

“Yeah, yeah --- I’m fine, I’m fine. ‘tis nothing, really, just real fuckin’ painful, but it’s fading so yeah,” he said, letting out a short laugh. “Oh, they definitely did. It’s probably like a law of pain or somethin’. I bet crucio is nothing compared to it.”

Ashley glanced up from her homework when hearing how someone suddenly screamed around, noticing it was Peter rubbing his foot. “No idea. You know what would even be more interesting though? How your foot got high enough to hit it. Anyway, are you alright?”

Peter let go of his foot and shrugged at that. “I mean, it’s not. Not really ---- I mean, table legs go from the top of the table to the ground and all, so yeah. But I’m fine now, it’s just bloody terrible to stub your toe --- the pain fades quickly though, so don’t worry, really.”

“ course, pete. why are you talking as though you’re a stranger? “ he smiled faintly at the familiar face. “ help yourself. “

“dunno --- it’s got nothing to do with you, i’m just a tad tired, y’know?,” he shrugged, deeming that a perfect explanation. as he lit a cigarette, he turned to frank. “so, how’re you doing?”

‘is this real life?’ rita remarked with a loud huff, eyes darting towards the hopping figure. ‘oi petey. how about watching where you’re going?’

                  “Whatever it is you think I did, I swear —I didn’t.”

   ---- -  “Yeah, sure, mate --- you’re a bloody brilliant liar, but I’m not buyin’ that.”

“I have an ouchie on my cheek. Kiss it better?”

“Need a glass of water, Mar? You seem ... thirsty.”