"Come on, come on, come on,"
Quiet footsteps echoed through the vast hallway as flaming torches lit up the sand colored floor. The moon peaked in from a few colored windows here and there, and illuminated the student's stressed face.
"Oh Merlin, please, please..." Peter panted as he ran past the old clock and towards the stairs, which thankfully were still connected to the hallway. But then, just before Peter would've reached, the stairs began to shake, before slowly separating from the floor, effectively disconnecting the way. Behind the poor Gryffindor, the old clock struck twelve - midnight.
Peter sank against the wall as he watched the stairs move away. This was what he deserved for running off to the library on his own, he thought. He should've gotten over his fear and just ask James or perhaps Remus to join him, but no. He let his anxiety get in the way, and now he would be stuck here for Merlin knows how long until the stairs connected to the hallway again. This could take hours, if not the entire night if Peter was particularly unlucky.
Unless his friends noticed that he was gone, Peter thought then and his hope flared up... Until a tiny voice inside him whispered. "Will they even notice you gone? Will they care?"
Peter did his best to ignore the voice, and yet... its words began to gnaw at him, eating up his certainty and leaving behind hopelessness. He shook it off - tried to - and walked up and down the hallway, mind going through the seemingly endless map of Hogwarts for another way. He even checked the magical map, which he had taken from Remus rather sneakily.
By the time he gave up, the clock showed that 40 minutes had passed. Peter sat down against the wall and curled up, preparing for the long night that would surely come until the stairs decided to move back.
At least until he heard someone clear their throat, demanding attention. Peter turned his head and, to his horror, found Minerva McGonagall of all people staring down at him, disbelief etched into her face.
"Mr. Pettigrew," she said slowly, as if testing the words. "May I ask why, at midnight, you are out here and not in bed where you should be? Have you forgotten the Transformation assignment awaiting you tomorrow?"
"Professor!" Peter nearly squeaked when his limbs came back alive, and he jumped on his feet so quickly that the world spun for a moment. "I did not! I-I needed a few more papers, a-and then I forgot the time, and then... I am so sorry! I swear this wasn't..."
McGonagall merely raised her eyebrows as she waited, her patience visibly running thin. Peter glanced at the missing stairs behind him and back at McGonagall, who followed his gaze.
"I see," she said then. Peter found something in her eyes... change. Her face softened up to something almost warm, and Peter found hope that maybe, he wouldn't get in trouble this once.
"If you would follow me, Mr. Pettigrew." Professor McGonagall quirked and turned on her heels, her robes swishing around her as she moved on. Peter jumped out of his trance-like state and rushed after her, books still clutched tight in his arms.
Shadows danced across the walls, caused by the burning torches and flickering and looming over Peter as he and McGonagall crossed the hallways, turning every now and then until the Gryffindor lost any sense of direction.
A few turns left, up a staircase, another right, and Peter could feel the anxiety boiling up again. A tight knot formed in his chest, weighed heavily against his rips. His palms grew sweaty and he struggled to hold his books up.
It was only when he looked up from his struggle and almost bumped into McGonagall that he realized that the professor had stopped. He carefully leaned to the side to look around her, and found immediate relief when he recognized the hallway to be the one leading straight to Gryffindor's rooms.
"Off to bed, Mr. Pettigrew. I do not want to catch you asleep in my class." Professor McGonagall said as she turned to him. Petet adjusted the grip on his books and nodded hastily.
"Y-yes, ma'am! Thank you f-for helping me!" he stuttered. Just then, his hands finally caved in and his books dropped to the floor. Heat rushed to his cheeks and painted them red.
Peter could swear that he felt the professor's cat-like eyes staring down at him as he gathered up his books, and the knot in his chest tightened up. He nodded another time at McGonagall - more at her shoes than her - and turned to finally scurry off, when-
"Oh, and Mr. Pettigrew?"
A cold hand gripped at his heart. The curse that showed up in Peter's head would've made James proud, and Peter briefly clenched his eyes shut when he turned back to his professor.
And found a biscuit right in front of him, held between thin fingers.
"Have a biscuit." McGonagall's face revealed nothing of what she was thinking, but when Peter willed himself to look up, he found the same... something in her eyes that he had spotted before.
"Risking one's own health for the sake of an assignment is not something you should repeat, Mr. Pettigrew. Please, for your own sake, don't do it again." she said rather gently. "I will extend the deadline of your assignment for another day, but by no means will you receive another favor during your grading."
Peter blinked, brain switching to autopilot as he finally accepted the biscuit still waiting in front of him.
"Now go to bed. You have a busy day ahead of you. I will see you in Transfiguration."
He nodded slowly. If his friends were here, they would surely poke fun at him. He could almost hear James singing, "Earth to Pete~" like he always did. Was that Sirius' hand waving in front of his face?
"Thank you, Professor," he answered carefully and finally scurried off towards the entrance, books and biscuit clutched tightly in his hands.
He almost dangerously insulted the Fat Lady when he exclaimed the password before she even asked, and then again when she didn't open fast enough and Peter just squeezed through the little space between her painting and the wall.
He just began to sneak through the tunnel when he realized that he heard voices coming from the Common Room, and suspiciously familiar ones at that.
As soon as he reached the end of the tunnel, he found a mixture of relief and horror boiling up and spilling into his throat when he spotted his three friends by the fireplace, casually chatting as if it wasn't close to 1 in the morning.
"What-? Guys?" he breathed - squeaked- out, and instantly three pairs of eyes landed on him. To his absolute horror, he then spotted something ginger colored rising from behind the couch. "Lily?!"
"Peter!" Sirius jumped to his feet and hasted towards his friend, Remus and James close behind, forming a circle around Peter in no time. "Where were you, Pete?!"
"We went to bed and you weren't there?"
"Why didn't you tell us that you'd be going?!"
"Imagine our reactions when we found the map gone, too."
Without missing a beat, a choir of worried voices and questions echoed around Peter, with no chance for him to properly answer.
"Guys!"
Lily stepped between them, one hand landing on Peter's shoulder and the other on Sirius'. "Let him breathe first, how about that?" she laughed and turned to Peter, her brilliant eyes full of warmth. "First of all, are you alright?"
Peter glanced at her and his friends gathered around him, so full of worry. He glanced at the biscuit, still stuck between his fingers, before he looked back up. "Yeah," he said, and meant it. "I am."
It's very possible that Peter was just especially tired and sleep deprived, but he could've sworn that McGonagall smiled proudly at him when he handed in his transfiguration assignment on time the next day.