Magnolia

Peter Pettigrew is not popular.

Not like James, who’s captain of the Quidditch team and on his way to making Head Boy. And not like Sirius, who knows exactly what to say to girls to get them to fall over each other for a date (which they’re all unlikely to get, for many reasons, but they don’t know that).

Peter likes to think he’s a little mysterious. Sitting alone in the corner of the library when the other boys have classes. Always lagging behind the group, furiously trying to catch up. Not trying too hard, you know.

And girls don’t really pay attention to him, but who cares? He went out with Sybil Trelawney for a couple months; he can’t remember any of Sirius’s relationships lasting longer than three weeks!

Alright, so Peter is not very popular. Perhaps, if you squint, he is popular by association. He’d discussed it at length with Remus one morning while James and Sirius were at Quidditch practice — or at least, he thought it had been a discussion until Remus had looked up from his book, cigarette still dangling from his mouth, and grunted, “Why d’you care so much about being popular, anyway?” Peter shut his mouth after that.

The other boys don’t get it. Sociability comes effortlessly to James and Sirius. Every class they spend in the back, cracking jokes until the whole class is stifling giggles and even Professor McGonagall has to fake a cough. Remus isn’t nearly as loud as either of them, and yet somehow he has managed to get close with Lily’s whole friend group. Peter, on the other hand, only has the Marauders. He does not like talking in big groups, especially not with people he doesn’t know well. And with James and Sirius’s popularity, there always seems to be a crowd. For the first two years of Hogwarts the other Marauders had actually been convinced Peter didn’t know how to make a joke. That certainly isn’t true. His sense of humour tends to come out when the boys are comfortably alone in their dorm, and reaches its peak at the wee hours of the morning when they’re all sleep-deprived and high off sweets.

But it gets lonesome when the boys are all at classes or practice. Peter knows they love him — they’ve said it often enough when he cracks a particularly witty joke that he feels secure in the fact. But he hears the whispers behind his back. Why do they let that Pettigrew kid tag along with them? Look at his stubby legs, the poor thing can hardly keep up…at least he’s burning calories!

Maybe that’s why he fixates on popularity. Because a part of him can’t help but think that one day the other boys will realize he’s not really a Marauder. That he’s really not as funny as they think he is. And when they realize that, they’re going to realize he’s not fit. Not smart. Not worth keeping around.

It’s only a matter of time. He can feel them slipping sometimes, especially now that the Marauders are all talking to the girls more — as friends, not just to flirt. Remus and Lily have always been close, but now that James isn’t interested in her anymore those two are actually friendly too. Even Sirius is spending all his time with Marlene now. Peter likes Mary a lot. She has the same sense of humour as him and also seems reluctant to merge their respective friend groups. Whether that’s because her best friend (who she obviously has a thing for) is suddenly getting on with the boy who chased her for five years straight, Peter doesn’t know. But he sure is glad that not everyone is thrilled about it.

Peter has always been a background character. Comic relief when the boys are on their little adventures. Yeah, maybe he gets bitter about it at times. Maybe sometimes he wants to be notable, the person who everybody listens to, someone who finds true love in the end. Sometimes he gets so frustrated that he just wants to show them all what it feels like to be a footnote. To do something no one saw coming because It’s just Peter. To be a mastermind no one expected.

But that’s ridiculous. Things are the way things are. He’s accepted it by now…mostly.

-

Gilderoy Lockhart is, also, not very popular.

Peter isn’t sure he has any friends at all, actually; he doesn’t have Sirius’s charm or James’s looks. He gets alright grades — far better than what Peter can do, surely — but he’s certainly not on Remus or Lily’s level. Mostly Peter knows him as an annoying attention-seeker who talks about himself too much.

As he’s gotten older, his ego’s only grown, and it will surely continue to do so if someone doesn’t smack it out of him before it’s too late. Not that Peter hates him for that. The Marauders don’t really hate anyone besides Severus Snape, and Sirius is the only one still holding onto that grudge. They’re usually too above it all and sucked into the vacuum of each other to bother thinking about other people. Yet every one of the boys has acknowledged, at least once, that Lockhart is a total berk.

Peter doesn’t pay much attention to him. Until he does.

-

It’s a wet, dreary morning. Usually if the pitch was free on weekends the boys played Quidditch until the sun went down. Since it was practically flooded today, the Marauders all found things to do — not including Peter. At around nine, James disappeared with the excuse of working on Potions with Slughorn. James had never had trouble with Potions (and Peter would know, being useless at it himself) so he figured it was most likely a lie to see Regulus up at the Astronomy Tower. After he left, Remus got up, stretched, and proclaimed he was going to have a nap after the vicious full moon they’d had last night. Sirius had shot him a worried look and quickly made something up after that so he could follow him.

Peter had absolutely no desire to venture back to the Gryffindor dorms just to walk in on them cuddling or worse. So he trudged down to the library and set himself to actually practicing Charms. All while resigning himself to the knowledge that every one of his friends were lying to each other — and him.

Yeah, this day wasn’t going very well.

“Avis,” he mutters. “Avis!"

Peter shakes his wand, which spits out a halfhearted yellow spark. “Bloody birds!” He leaps up and jabs it harder. “Please,” he sighs. “They don’t even have to be yellow, you know. They could be — I dunno. Violet. Green. Blue. All I need is a passing grade.”

The wand does not seem moved by his pleading. He’s shaking with frustration at this point and is on the verge of throwing his wand at the nearest bookshelf. See if it likes that.

“Having a bit of trouble, are you?”

Peter whirls around and comes face to face with Gilderoy Lockhart. “Oh, honestly,” he groans.

Lockhart must get that reaction a lot, because he’s not fazed by his rudeness. He just flashes Peter a dazzlingly white smile like he’s the solution to all his problems. Well, unless he can tell all three of his friends that they’re not being slick trying to hide their respective relationships, there’s not much Lockhart can do for him.

“What spell are you trying to do?”

Peter huffs. “None of your business.”

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Lockhart chuckles. “I could give you a hand! I am at the top of my year in Charms, after all.”

“It’s the Bird-Conjuring Charm. But I think I’ve got it down now,” he grits out.

But he doesn’t let up. He just raises his eyebrows and puts on a sympathetic little smile. “You’re doing the Bird-Conjuring Charm in the library, of all places? It’s best to practice that one outside. But no worries — I’ll show you the hand motions.”

I've got a couple hand motions to show you, Peter thinks grumpily.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s no trouble at all! And you caught me at a great time. Usually I’m busy tutoring the younger years. You know what I always tell them? The key is practice! They’re all very disappointed to hear that, but really, not everyone can be naturally talented. I was just born lucky — along with plenty of hard work!”

“Right,” Peter says, clenching his fists. “Thank you for the advice.”

“Now, now,” Lockhart tuts, rolling up his sleeves dramatically. “I think you deserve a demonstration, at least! If we vanish the birds right after they’ve been cast, there shouldn’t be too much of a mess.” He winks. “Don’t worry, I’m excellent at that charm, too. Flitwick always says so.”

To Peter’s horror, he reaches over and tries to pluck his wand right out of his hand. “Hey!” he snaps.

“It’s really no issue, it’ll be quick — I’m always willing to assist those less mature in their magical ability —” He yanks at the wand, but Peter isn’t letting go.

They’re in a proper tug of war now. “I don’t want your help!”

“Just! Let me —”

Bright blue flames erupt from the end of Peter’s wand in a sharp blast. The two boys spring apart, dropping it at once. Lockhart lets out a howl.

Peter blinks in terror. “Shit!”

“You set me on fire!” Lockhart rages. The flames have already gone out. Luckily for him, it had only been cold fire, and the only evidence it had happened at all are a few melting patches of ice clinging to his shirt. Yet, his face is flushed and his eyes wide as if he just stared down death itself.

They stare at each other for a long second. “Well…You’re alright, aren’t you?” Peter offers. He reaches out and brushes some snow from his shoulder in a casual Haha, this was just a big joke, please don’t report me to Dumbledore way.

Then he catches a whiff of his cologne. It snuck up on Peter, but now that he’s noticed it he can’t shake it. The scent is like something he might’ve smelled when he was young. It reminds him of playing in the orchards near his house as a kid, giggling and ducking behind the fruit trees while James chased him around in circles. Back when Peter could still outrun him. He can practically feel the sun on his face, the breeze blowing through his clothes.

Peter realizes he’s been staring into space. He blinks wildly and steps back.

Lockhart glares at him. Peter didn’t know those light blue eyes could turn so stormy. Finally he whirls around and marches off.