He took a long drag, handing back the lighter with outstretched palm, grass-stains smearing the cuff of his jumper. He never was the neatest around, tobacco dusting his fingers, trainers scuffed and laces trailing in the dirt, but it had never bothered him much either. The House pride was more to bring out a smile from Wendy than a reflection of himself, but it wasnât as if he was against the notion of having faith in Gryffindor, he had just never been quite sure that it was where he really belonged. He looked at his fellow House-mates, hot-blooded and passionate, and then he looked at the Hufflepuffs, with kindness in their eyes and an easy demeanor akin to his own, and wondered what it was that the hat had seen in him, all those years ago. Though Gryffindor had also introduced him to the people he loved most in the world, so it had never been a mistake.Â
Peter exhaled, smoke snaking into the cool evening air, and nodded. âYeah I get what you mean, can be nice to drag it out a bit.â He gave a soft laugh at her second sentence, âYou and me both pal, I havenât been without a box of straights on me since I was about twelve - donât tell my dad.â He winked at her, then held the spliff out to Wendy as if to toast to something, âTo many more joints.â
Wendy was glad to have found Peter --- he made her feel at ease, as if the bar was somehow lowered around him. She didnât feel that way because she had a low opinion of him, or anything like that: he was just easygoing. He was a bit messy and she was, too, and he was above all, mellow. She could relax around him, and there were plenty of people she could not do that with. She tiptoed around them as she tried to figure out which words to use, which way to look, to act, to BEÂ --- it was tiring. Now that school had started up, sheâd been stuck in a constant limbo of overthinking her words and saying the stupidest things, and she was exhausted, frankly. But with Peter it was easier.Â
âExactly! I do like edibles, too, but they can drag on for TOO long sometimes,â she said. âWhich isnât always bad, but sometimes? Itâs the worst.â She took the spliff, taking a long drag as she watched the smoke curl in the air. âOr, preferably, spliffs. Right?â Wendyâs eyes were trained on the sky now, her foot wiggling on the beat of the music. âIâm gonna miss this, next year.â