Sharing Secrets
Do you believe in love at first sight?
Peter raised his head from the protective circle of his arm and glanced around the library. A typical Friday afternoon not-quite-the-weekend-but-it's-not-really-worth-doing-anything-now mood seemed to have taken over everyone, and little work seemed to be taking place despite superficial appearances. Two tables away a couple of fourth year Hufflepuffs were playing some sort of puzzle game behind an impressive but unopened pile of books, each trying not to make too much noise when they triumphed over the other. Next to them a group of younger Gryffindors were spending more time passing jelly slugs and chocolate frogs under the table away from the watchful gaze of Madam Pince than making progress on their homework.
Closer at hand, James was doodling idly on his notes from class, head tilted and resting on one hand. The book in front of him was open on the wrong page and hadn't been touched in the last three quarters of an hour to Peter's certain knowledge. It was pure coincidence that the Evans girl had arrived around that time, of course, and any glances towards her table were obviously accidental.
Lily Evans. She was pretty enough, Peter supposed, but her tongue was a little too sharp and her berating of James just a little too caustic to endear her to him. He'd been unfortunate enough to overhear her opinion of James' friends too, and it still smarted. As if she was in any position to look down on any of them. He knew it wasn't a nice thought, and really, he was ashamed of it when it crossed his mind; but was someone who could accurately - if unkindly - be called 'mudblood', really good enough for his best friend? He couldn't help thinking her rather obvious charms had seduced James into an unhealthy fixation on the girl.
Two of those friends were apparently the hardest working people in the room at the moment. Peter knew better. Oh, Remus was studying and had even managed to write a few inches of essay, but for him that was practically blatant skiving, especially in their O.W.L. year. Every few minutes he would push a few stubborn strands of hair behind his ear with a slight frown of concentration, only for them to gradually slip down again as he leaned over his work. Sirius had a book propped up in front of him which his eyes seemed to be fixed on, but if you watched carefully they were darting over to see what Remus was doing every few seconds. No part of Sirius was ever still for long, and right now one hand was folding scraps of parchment into rough darts. As soon as he was sure Remus was lost in his reading or concentrating on scratching a few more words of his essay, the fingers would pop up over the barrier of his arm and launch their latest creation towards the other boy. For god's sake. He'd be pulling Remus' hair next.
Peter edged the parchment hidden under his own essay - so far little more than notes - out a little further. Just to make it easier to write on of course. He wasn't bothered that no-one had asked what he was doing yet, and he certainly didn't want anyone to see it. He lifted up the smudged scroll and added a few more words to the parchment, tongue caught between his teeth in an unusual show of application.
A paper dart hit Remus' ear, making his hand slip with the quill. He blotted it hastily and glared at his neighbour.
"Sirius! What's wrong with you today?"
"Bored."
Remus leaned over, checking out how much work he'd done.
"Finish your essay."
Sirius just shrugged and leaned back in the chair, balancing it precariously on its back legs. "I'll do it later." He glanced around, one hand still fidgeting with a piece of parchment. Just as he leaned the chair back further than before, a sixth year Ravenclaw girl winked at him from the next table and he overbalanced in his surprise. He grinned ruefully as he picked himself up from the floor under a disapproving glare from the librarian. A sound suspiciously like a snigger came from behind Remus' hair.
Giving up any pretence of working and bored with paper darts, Sirius turned the spotlight of his full attention to Peter instead in the search for entertainment. "What you doing there?" He leaned over and snagged the corner of the parchment out from under the essay. Peter tried ineffectually to hang onto it - though not too hard - but when Sirius was determined there was no stopping him. James and Remus just watched the struggle in amusement.
"'My dearest Marise, how I have missed your radiant smile...'" Sirius read out. "Oooh, Marise is it? You're a dark horse, Peter, who is she?" His eyes scanned down the next few lines of the letter, widening as they did so. "This is pretty hot stuff."
Peter blushed under the combined attention of his three friends, although a secret thrill ran through him as he saw people at the next table look over in his direction too.
"Just...just a girl." He hated the way his voice sounded so soft and childish, and cleared his throat, as if it would deepen the tone magically. "I met her at a party over the summer." That was true, he had. A right stuck up bitch, but a pretty name. He'd quite liked the idea of having a girlfriend with an exotic name.
"Love at first sight, eh?" James' eyes strayed to the other side of the room briefly, missing Peter's non-committal grin.
"And?" Sirius demanded, leaning closer. "It sounds like you got pretty close. Did you-"
"No!" Peter squeaked. They'd never believe that, he knew his limits. "But-"
"But?" James was on the edge of his seat, and Sirius was leaning in to catch every word.
Peter hadn't expected quite such a level of interest, but he supposed it made the others' prospects look a little more hopeful. After all, if he could pull…
"Almost." He could practically feel a wave of respect breaking over him from the two avid listeners. "There...there was lots of touching, you know." He slid down further in his chair, blushing even more furiously.
James was grinning proudly at him, while Sirius was rattling off questions. Remus...as usual, Remus was just looking. He could feel the mild gaze resting on him, was aware of it like a prickle against his skin. Being the object of Remus' attention was always disconcerting.
Sirius was still going on. "So you like her? Are you going to meet her again?"
Peter nodded. "Maybe at Christmas. You know what my mother is like for parties. She won't let dad being sick put her off socialising." He completely failed to disguise the slight tremor in his voice.
Remus' gaze softened at once. "He's not getting any better?"
Peter just shook his head, his good humour from the attention vanishing. Remus had bypassed the conversation topic as if it never existed, and true to form picked on the one thing Peter didn't want to talk about. He always thought it was as if Remus could pick up on lies, fantasies and half-truths, and just ignored them like the nothings they were, too polite to call anyone on them. Peter couldn't think of a time Remus had referred even in passing to one of his occasional exaggerations or tall tales, though he had never had the courage to challenge Remus about it. He wondered, not for the first time, if werewolves could smell lies. On balance, he reckoned he'd rather not know.
James took the letter from Sirius firmly and handed it back. "Go and finish your letter in peace and send it off. I'll do your essay and keep these two out of your way." His smile was that of one conspiratorial lover to another, and Peter filled with pride that for once he and James had something to share that didn't involve the others.
- - - - -
Peter shivered in the draught from the windows as he crunched his way across the owlery floor. A small, rather fluffy-feathered owl shuffled excitedly as he approached her, nudging those next to her to give her room. She put out her leg as soon as Peter pulled the parchment from the pocket of his robes.
"Not this one, Mag." He pulled out a second letter and attached it to her outstretched leg carefully. She nipped his finger happily, obviously recognising the regular weekly letter home and eager to be off. Hopping onto his arm carefully, she allowed herself to be transported to the window sill before launching into flight.
He leaned out to watch her go, then touched his wand to the remaining letter. Moments later it burst into flame, and he dropped it from the tower as the words were obscured by curling grey-black, disintegrating before his eyes.
Muse - Peter Pettigrew
Fandom - Harry Potter
Words - 1487
Peter raised his head from the protective circle of his arm and glanced around the library. A typical Friday afternoon not-quite-the-weekend-but-it's-not-really-worth-doing-anything-now mood seemed to have taken over everyone, and little work seemed to be taking place despite superficial appearances. Two tables away a couple of fourth year Hufflepuffs were playing some sort of puzzle game behind an impressive but unopened pile of books, each trying not to make too much noise when they triumphed over the other. Next to them a group of younger Gryffindors were spending more time passing jelly slugs and chocolate frogs under the table away from the watchful gaze of Madam Pince than making progress on their homework.
Closer at hand, James was doodling idly on his notes from class, head tilted and resting on one hand. The book in front of him was open on the wrong page and hadn't been touched in the last three quarters of an hour to Peter's certain knowledge. It was pure coincidence that the Evans girl had arrived around that time, of course, and any glances towards her table were obviously accidental.
Lily Evans. She was pretty enough, Peter supposed, but her tongue was a little too sharp and her berating of James just a little too caustic to endear her to him. He'd been unfortunate enough to overhear her opinion of James' friends too, and it still smarted. As if she was in any position to look down on any of them. He knew it wasn't a nice thought, and really, he was ashamed of it when it crossed his mind; but was someone who could accurately - if unkindly - be called 'mudblood', really good enough for his best friend? He couldn't help thinking her rather obvious charms had seduced James into an unhealthy fixation on the girl.
Two of those friends were apparently the hardest working people in the room at the moment. Peter knew better. Oh, Remus was studying and had even managed to write a few inches of essay, but for him that was practically blatant skiving, especially in their O.W.L. year. Every few minutes he would push a few stubborn strands of hair behind his ear with a slight frown of concentration, only for them to gradually slip down again as he leaned over his work. Sirius had a book propped up in front of him which his eyes seemed to be fixed on, but if you watched carefully they were darting over to see what Remus was doing every few seconds. No part of Sirius was ever still for long, and right now one hand was folding scraps of parchment into rough darts. As soon as he was sure Remus was lost in his reading or concentrating on scratching a few more words of his essay, the fingers would pop up over the barrier of his arm and launch their latest creation towards the other boy. For god's sake. He'd be pulling Remus' hair next.
Peter edged the parchment hidden under his own essay - so far little more than notes - out a little further. Just to make it easier to write on of course. He wasn't bothered that no-one had asked what he was doing yet, and he certainly didn't want anyone to see it. He lifted up the smudged scroll and added a few more words to the parchment, tongue caught between his teeth in an unusual show of application.
A paper dart hit Remus' ear, making his hand slip with the quill. He blotted it hastily and glared at his neighbour.
"Sirius! What's wrong with you today?"
"Bored."
Remus leaned over, checking out how much work he'd done.
"Finish your essay."
Sirius just shrugged and leaned back in the chair, balancing it precariously on its back legs. "I'll do it later." He glanced around, one hand still fidgeting with a piece of parchment. Just as he leaned the chair back further than before, a sixth year Ravenclaw girl winked at him from the next table and he overbalanced in his surprise. He grinned ruefully as he picked himself up from the floor under a disapproving glare from the librarian. A sound suspiciously like a snigger came from behind Remus' hair.
Giving up any pretence of working and bored with paper darts, Sirius turned the spotlight of his full attention to Peter instead in the search for entertainment. "What you doing there?" He leaned over and snagged the corner of the parchment out from under the essay. Peter tried ineffectually to hang onto it - though not too hard - but when Sirius was determined there was no stopping him. James and Remus just watched the struggle in amusement.
"'My dearest Marise, how I have missed your radiant smile...'" Sirius read out. "Oooh, Marise is it? You're a dark horse, Peter, who is she?" His eyes scanned down the next few lines of the letter, widening as they did so. "This is pretty hot stuff."
Peter blushed under the combined attention of his three friends, although a secret thrill ran through him as he saw people at the next table look over in his direction too.
"Just...just a girl." He hated the way his voice sounded so soft and childish, and cleared his throat, as if it would deepen the tone magically. "I met her at a party over the summer." That was true, he had. A right stuck up bitch, but a pretty name. He'd quite liked the idea of having a girlfriend with an exotic name.
"Love at first sight, eh?" James' eyes strayed to the other side of the room briefly, missing Peter's non-committal grin.
"And?" Sirius demanded, leaning closer. "It sounds like you got pretty close. Did you-"
"No!" Peter squeaked. They'd never believe that, he knew his limits. "But-"
"But?" James was on the edge of his seat, and Sirius was leaning in to catch every word.
Peter hadn't expected quite such a level of interest, but he supposed it made the others' prospects look a little more hopeful. After all, if he could pull…
"Almost." He could practically feel a wave of respect breaking over him from the two avid listeners. "There...there was lots of touching, you know." He slid down further in his chair, blushing even more furiously.
James was grinning proudly at him, while Sirius was rattling off questions. Remus...as usual, Remus was just looking. He could feel the mild gaze resting on him, was aware of it like a prickle against his skin. Being the object of Remus' attention was always disconcerting.
Sirius was still going on. "So you like her? Are you going to meet her again?"
Peter nodded. "Maybe at Christmas. You know what my mother is like for parties. She won't let dad being sick put her off socialising." He completely failed to disguise the slight tremor in his voice.
Remus' gaze softened at once. "He's not getting any better?"
Peter just shook his head, his good humour from the attention vanishing. Remus had bypassed the conversation topic as if it never existed, and true to form picked on the one thing Peter didn't want to talk about. He always thought it was as if Remus could pick up on lies, fantasies and half-truths, and just ignored them like the nothings they were, too polite to call anyone on them. Peter couldn't think of a time Remus had referred even in passing to one of his occasional exaggerations or tall tales, though he had never had the courage to challenge Remus about it. He wondered, not for the first time, if werewolves could smell lies. On balance, he reckoned he'd rather not know.
James took the letter from Sirius firmly and handed it back. "Go and finish your letter in peace and send it off. I'll do your essay and keep these two out of your way." His smile was that of one conspiratorial lover to another, and Peter filled with pride that for once he and James had something to share that didn't involve the others.
- - - - -
Peter shivered in the draught from the windows as he crunched his way across the owlery floor. A small, rather fluffy-feathered owl shuffled excitedly as he approached her, nudging those next to her to give her room. She put out her leg as soon as Peter pulled the parchment from the pocket of his robes.
"Not this one, Mag." He pulled out a second letter and attached it to her outstretched leg carefully. She nipped his finger happily, obviously recognising the regular weekly letter home and eager to be off. Hopping onto his arm carefully, she allowed herself to be transported to the window sill before launching into flight.
He leaned out to watch her go, then touched his wand to the remaining letter. Moments later it burst into flame, and he dropped it from the tower as the words were obscured by curling grey-black, disintegrating before his eyes.
Muse - Peter Pettigrew
Fandom - Harry Potter
Words - 1487