Peter Pettigrew
Everyone surely knows the saying 'From every little boy, a traitor can emerge,' right? No? Well, it will be clarified throughout the story~
Pete, Petey, Lil' Pete, Fatty Pettigrew, just a few examples should get to the point. Actually, his name is Peter, Peter Pettigrew, nobody ever takes him seriously, he's always little Peter, the weak one, or the stupid one, but never Peter Pettigrew... In the new school, it was supposed to be different, after all, it's not a normal school. Hogwarts will be different, for sure!"
Sunday, August 22, 1971
"He's your son too!"
"Yes, of course, how could I forget? You remind me of it every day!"
"The reminder suits you well!"
"You and Peter, you'll drive me to an early grave!"
A normal Sunday morning at the Pettigrews'. The little blond boy, Peter, sat on the staircase of the house while his parents were arguing again. It had been going on for about half an hour now, every time it's about him, money, or simply the bad mood adults can sometimes have, but it seems to be standard with his parents. Peter quietly stood up from the stairs and carefully walked past the living room without making a sound. He sneaked out through the back door, around the house, and straight to the Potters'. His best friend James lives there. James' parents are also the best people in the world.
He knocked on the door and nervously waited for someone to open it for him. "Yes? Oh, hello, Peter, do you want to see James? You can come in, he's in his room." James' mother, Euphemia, opened the door and let him in without further questions. She knew how stressful it could be at his family's home.
Peter thanked her quickly and bounded up the stairs. He knocked briefly on the bedroom door and entered. His friend was sitting on his bed with a book in his hand. "Hi Pete, how are you?" James didn't even need to ask why he was here in the first place; he was here every day anyway. "Good, you?" he asked politely and sat on the bed. They talked for a while until James' mother called up that it was lunchtime.
Lunch at the Potters' is always nice, better than at Peter's home, where he eats either in complete silence, arguing, or even alone. There are simply no pleasant family conversations there. Peter felt much more comfortable at the Potters' and more at home. It was safer, not surrounded by loud shouting or anything like that.
James and he went to elementary school together. You might think that someone from a wealthy family like James would be homeschooled, but no. On the contrary, while his parents wanted to spoil him, they also wanted him to navigate through a normal school.
Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, James' parents, are very kind. They're always there when you need them or when you're hungry; they have the tastiest cookies and cakes. Peter often wishes he had such loving and kind parents, but unfortunately, not everyone gets what they want... He would normally think that he got what he deserved, but where did he deserve this? He hasn't done anything wrong, at least not yet.
"Hey, Peter, do your parents know you're here?"
"Did you tell them?"
"They'll figure it out themselves if they were to look for me."
"Well, okay... You're always welcome here, anyway."
He was practically here every day, he almost lived there, but unfortunately, this is not entirely possible; he will have to wait a bit longer before moving out. But soon it's time for the new school! Just over a week left.
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Tuesday, August 24, 1971
Peter had spent the last two days at James's place; his parents hadn't really asked where he was, anyway, they weren't interested. He slept in James's room.
Both boys were still asleep; Peter had a nightmare. He woke up abruptly and looked around the room; his breathing calmed when he realized where he was. Nothing could happen to him here; nothing would happen to him here, never. He lay back down and waited for James to wake up.
About an hour later, James was awake too. They went downstairs for breakfast. James's parents were already up; Fleamont sat at the table reading the newspaper while drinking his coffee, and Euphemia sat on the couch. When the kind woman saw them both, she immediately got up and brought them something to eat. Peter envied James a bit for having such nice parents who brought him breakfast; his parents wouldn't even think about cooking something for him. Peter was stressed most of the time at home, so sometimes he would just eat anything he could find that wouldn't immediately poison him.
Peter regretted his occasional binge-eating sessions a lot... Every time he looked in the mirror, he did. However, he could hardly stop it in those moments; food simply calmed him too much, too many happy feelings arose from it.
Of course, a big part of his bullying at his old school stemmed from his appearance, from his weight, even though he wasn't completely fat, he was just a bit heavier than some others his age. James always told him that his weight wouldn't change anything about their friendship, but Peter always had this feeling that he would eventually drift away from him. Eventually, he'll have new friends, friends who don't look like him, friends who don't need protection or defense. Until then, however, Peter wanted to take advantage of their friendship until he realizes that James doesn't like him anymore, and then he'll have to let him go; after all, nothing lasts forever.
"James, Peter, do you feel like going to Diagon Alley today?" Euphemia asked, snapping Peter out of his thoughts. They both agreed, so they could go later.
A bit later, they were ready, they could go to Diagon Alley. Peter had been there a few times with James. It's very nice there, but there are usually many people. Peter doesn't really like crowds, but he liked being there and he didn't have to talk to everyone anyway.
James and Peter went to a few shops to look around. There were all kinds of shops in Diagon Alley, there were bookstores, wand shops, shops where you could buy animals, or candy shops. Peter personally liked the animal or candy shops very much. He was an animal fan; he always wanted to have an owl or a rat, but he never got one, and he definitely never will... But it doesn't matter; eventually, he'll buy himself a pet.
In the candy shop, there were all sorts of treats. James and Peter always spent ages there; the atmosphere was somehow soothing. It probably just had to do with the fact that he could stuff himself there as much as he wanted without anyone knowing except James. Although usually not even James saw it. Peter was ashamed of his binge-eating, so he delayed it until he was sure no one saw him.
It was like always, he wandered around a few shelves after paying to find something to eat. Until he bumped into someone. Black hair, pale skin, and bright blue-gray eyes. Peter helped the boy up. "Oh my god, i am r-really sorry-" he began, but the other boy's face remained unchanged. Suddenly, he felt like he was pushed out of the way, not hard, but straight into the wall. "Watch where you're going, Halfblood," he heard the voice; he turned to the other person. The two boys looked exactly alike, but the other one, whom Peter accidentally bumped into, might be a year younger.
"Come on, Reg, Mom's waiting for us," came from the older one, and the two brothers strutted away. Peter rubbed his head a bit where he hit the wall. "Stupid purebloods," he heard James beside him. "Don't take it to heart; they're no better than you," James tried to cheer him up. Peter just nodded; he didn't feel like arguing with James, it was pointless. When James said something, it had to be true; after all, he's always very honest and responsible.
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Thursday, August 26, 1971
Yesterday, Peter had once again gone back home. His parents had spontaneously gone away; they had left some groceries in the fridge and a note. Generous of them to at least say where they were this time. Last time, he was alone at home for a month without so much as a word. Peter wasn't sure exactly when they would come back and whether they would be back before he went to Hogwarts, but he didn't care. If they weren't there, it would be their problem, not his. He would just knock on James's door in the morning, and then he could surely go with them.
He lay awake in his bed, thinking about the incident from Tuesday. Reg, that was the name of the younger one. The other one might have been Peter's age. But what was certain was that they were purebloods; you could practically see it in them. They were well-dressed and surely only bought 'the best'. Because they had the money for it, and it would be a total disgrace not to always have the best, at least for a pureblood.
James was also a pureblood, but he never acted snobbishly; well, he did like to boast, but he knew when enough was enough and when he'd better not say anything. Peter just hoped that James wouldn't befriend someone like them. All purebloods are the same, all but James.
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Monday, August 30, 1971
Peter's parents still hadn't returned, and the day was getting closer, Wednesday would be the day. There wasn't much food left either; he would have to save it. If all else failed, he could eat at James's.
He was already very nervous about the new school; he was afraid of the other students. What if there were only proud purebloods? They would all make fun of him! Regardless, he had James; nothing would happen to him.
He started packing a few things; he still had time. He would pack the rest tomorrow. Should he leave a note for his parents? He didn't know if they would be back tomorrow, but he didn't believe so. His parents had probably gone away on purpose so they wouldn't have to see him. Maybe it was better this way; then Peter would have his peace.
As it slowly became evening, his parents still weren't there. The fridge was empty by now. Okay, what do you expect when you're alone for days and there's food for about three days. Maybe his parents hoped he would starve or just go somewhere else to eat.
He didn't eat anything that evening; he didn't feel like explaining to James's parents how irresponsible his family was. He lay awake in bed half the night, imagining his new school. Hopefully, he would be accepted as he is. He couldn't survive any more bullying, especially for another seven years. An absolute nightmare, only this one was real. But he had James; it couldn't be that bad. After all, he relied on his best friend.
In the middle of the night, he woke up from a noise coming from downstairs. He stayed lying down until he heard something again. After that, Peter got up, went quietly to the stairs, and listened to see if he could hear who it was.
Peter thought maybe it was his parents, that they had come to their senses and bought some food for him. He didn't hear anything that sounded like people, just a few scratching noises. The sound of sharp claws scraping over the furniture or the floor. Peter imagined the worst things that could happen. What should he do? Jump out the window and run to the Potters? Never, that's way too high, and he certainly won't go down the stairs.
He was starting to get a little scared now; an eleven-year-old doesn't expect something like this, to be woken up by something like this. He tried to muster the courage to go downstairs. At least a little, so he could see around the corner.
Carefully and quietly, he went down the stairs; he peeked around the corner so he could see into the living room. His blue eyes widened as he saw a shadow, not a particularly large shadow, but it was a shadow, and it was very dark, hardly any light. Darkness scared him, not always but sometimes, especially when creepy shadows creep through the house. Creepy shadows with sharp claws. There it was again, the noise. It was getting closer; what should he do now? He sat down in despair. Suddenly, something jumped on the stairs next to him.
Peter nearly had a heart attack. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't see what would attack him next. But unexpectedly, something soft touched his hand. He opened his eyes and saw a little cat, with soft white fur and a few red-brown speckles, almost like little sprinkles. He cautiously stroked the little cat. She looked up at him with her differently colored eyes. One eye dark brown, the other light blue. Peter noticed that the window in the living room was open, so she probably got into the house that way. He petted her a little, then got up and went to the kitchen. There was still a little milk left, so he gave her some to drink. He placed the milk in a low bowl on the floor.
The boy watched as the little cat drank some. She looked so small and vulnerable. He sat on the couch and waited for the cat to maybe want to go outside again.
A few minutes later, the cat jumped onto the couch and lay down next to him. Peter fell asleep, for the first time in a long time without bad thoughts.
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Tuesday, August 31, 1971
The next morning, Peter woke up next to the little cat; she lay there just as enchanting as the previous evening. She nuzzled up to him as soon as she saw he was awake. He gave her some water; he didn't have any food for the both of them. He would go without food until tomorrow, and the cat would surely find something outside. It was hard for him, even though he hadn't known the cat for long, to say goodbye tomorrow morning. He hadn't felt so calm in a long time.
Peter spent the rest of the day with the cat; of course, he let her out, but she mostly followed him and returned after a few hours. In the evening, the cat slept in his bed.
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Wednesday, September 01, 1971
Today was the day! Today he was going to the train that would take him to Hogwarts. He was extremely excited and nervous. After getting up and giving the cat some water, he thought. Should he leave her alone here? Not that she looks for him every day to see where he is... After all, he'll be away until the next holidays.
Well, what has to be, must be. He checked if he had packed everything and went to the door. The cat followed him and went out, but waited at the gate. Peter dragged his stuff out and locked the door, still no sign of his parents. He went to the gate, put down his things, and petted the cat one last time to say goodbye. If he was lucky, she would wait for him until the holidays, and then he would see her again.
After saying goodbye, he knocked on the Potters' front door. Fleamont Potter was somewhat surprised to see him but let him in as always. Peter put his things down in the hallway. Mr. Potter had a suspicion why he was here but wanted to hear it from Peter.
"Ah, Peter, what are you doing here? Are your parents at home?"
"No. No idea where they are. Probably went away at short notice."
"Oh- um.. Yes, well, we can take you with us if your parents aren't back by later. Why don't you go upstairs and help James pack? He started way too late again."
"Okay, I'll do that, thanks."
Peter went upstairs; he could only hear Mr. Potter going to his wife and immediately starting with the words 'The most irresponsible parents in the world'. Peter wasn't angry about it; the words were absolutely justified.
He went into James's room and helped him pack. James didn't really ask why he was here; he was just glad his best friend was there.
After they finished packing James's things, they could eat something. Peter was glad to finally eat something again. After all, his fridge was completely empty, except for a little milk and maybe a bit of expired cheese.
He chatted with James's parents; they asked again how long his parents had been gone and much more. In general, Peter didn't care where they were; they were just as indifferent to him, but it hurt him a bit that they deliberately missed this day. Not even saying goodbye with a letter or something, nothing.
It was no use getting upset, so he ate to calm himself down. Food is a good way to relieve stress for him.
When it was time to go, James's parents took him and James to the train. It was crowded, crowds of people, mostly purebloods. Peter already had a queasy feeling in his stomach, but he had to go through with it. He would manage it; after all, his best friend was there. He waited until James said goodbye, and then they went into the train together. Many people pushed past or deliberately bumped into others. Peter hated traveling by train. Or any kind of transportation. Flying on a broomstick isn't any better; he gets sick from it. And boating, that's just as bad. And today he had to take the train and ride the boat.
James walked ahead of Peter to find a somewhat empty compartment; he knew how bad crowds were for Peter. He quickly panicked, especially with many unknown purebloods who could strangle him with one hand.