Chapter 2
The summer had gone by far too quickly for my likings.
It was now September 1969, and Pandora was off to her 2nd year at Hogwarts.
I, once again, was utterly miserable.
The summer had been different than I had expected, she was different.
Whenever I would visit her room at night she would only ever talk about Hogwarts, boring me half to sleep.
After a certain point I just stopped going to her room.
She wrote to her friends every day, and I just sat beside her, feeling as alone as I did when she wasn’t there.
But there were also happy times, when she cut my hair which had grown from neglect. We had sat in the bathtub, her laughing at something I had said, and I remembered that she was still my sister. My sister. No-one else in Hogwarts could ever claim to be Pandora's brother but me. What a glorious feeling.
According to Pandora, nine was a big enough age to accompany her to town. So one warm morning we woke up extra early, she pocketed some muggle money one of her muggle-born friends had sent her and left before the sun had barely peaked from its sleepy darkness.
Hand in hand we trailed into town, it was a golden day, and I watched as people slowly rose and began to move around. Muggles bustled in the streets setting up stalls.
Pandora bought us a brown paper bag filled with muggle sweets. They were nice, by muggle standards, filling our mouths with a sticky sweetness as we sat on a wall, legs kicking, watching down on the people below.
After that she took me to see the library. I didn't find it very interesting, but she seemed so at home.
When we walked in the old librarian smiled widely. “Miss Pettigrew! So you return! How was boarding school? And I see your brother here, well you must be Peter, I have heard so much about you!”
I beamed with joy, shaking the old man's hand. What a wonderful person, I have never forgotten the look of pure joy on his face whenever Pandora returned to see him, like the morning of Christmas.
Now he was far behind us, and we were in London.
Pandora had her head stuck out the window “GOODBYE PETER! GOODBYE MOTHER! TAKE CARE! PETER I PROMISE TO WRI-” but before she could finish her sentence the train began and someone had pulled her inside the carriage.
I watched as parents and siblings left or disapperated, but Mother didn't move, staring as the train moved far into the distance.
“Mother…” I whispered tentatively. I hadn't been permitted to see Pandora off last time, and I wasn't sure whether Mother usually stood here for this long. Finally she looked at me, but as though she wasn't really seeing me.
“Peter, how would you like a friend? You know, to pass time with when Pandora is not here.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed “I thought maybe, as your birthday is next week, you would like a friend. I am hosting an event on the weekend, and I was thinking of inviting a young couple. They have a son your age, i thought perhaps i should introduce you”
It had never occurred to me before that the people at mothers events even had children, let alone someone my own age. I looked up at her, eyes as wide as could be, “Yes please.”
On the night of the event I dressed in my favourite clothes. A shirt Pandora had bought for me for an early birthday present with a sweater vest and trousers. After my hair had been neatly combed Mother deemed me good enough to go downstairs.
It was busy, with adults spilling throughout the house. I could not see another child, and began to panic. Was my Mother playing another of her cruel games on me? But then I felt her hand on my shoulder, I looked up at her and her face looked more like Pandoras than ever, carefully applied lipstick and makeup that couldn’t quite cover the small freckles on her nose and cheeks.
She led me through the crowd until we came into view of a family of three.
The lady was young, perhaps a year or two younger than my own Mother. She was lovely, with dark hair twisted into a bun, with ringlets falling around her delicate cheeks. The man was tall, with sharp cheekbones and dark messy hair that stood up at the back.
The woman beamed and crouched down to hug me, “Well hello there! You must be Peter. My name is Euphemia and that is Fleumont.” The man nodded, a warm expression on him. “And- oh where is James!” She stood, turned and walked slightly into the crowd. Suddenly she made a grab and pulled a small boy out as if by magic. “James Potter we told you to behave! I am so very sorry Morana this boy is truly his fathers son.”
Fleumont snorted, “Ok, Ok, i'm going to get a drink. James, behave.” But you could tell by his tone that he didn't really want James to behave.
James was slightly taller than I was, much of his father and much of his mother. He wore expensive looking round glasses and his arms and legs were covered in plasters. “Hello good sir!” He bellowed, a devious look on his face. He marched forwards, seizing my hand and shaking it violently, “I am James Potter!”
“Um.. My name is Pettigrew.. I mean… Oh Peter! Yes, that's my name!”
He cocked an eyebrow, “Your name is Pettigrew Peter? But mum you said his name was Peter Pettigrew not Pettigrew Peter! Are you some sort of Intruder?” He leaned in, eyes narrowed.
Euphemia shook her head, “No James, He's not an imposter. You just scared him.”
He turned back to me, “Is this true?”
I nodded my head vigorously, too stunned to speak.
His face burst back into its lopsided grin, “Well then Peter Pettigrew! The two of us shall be the best of friends!”
After that things were good. Really good.
I normally went to the Potters. I liked it there, it was a big house, but filled with the warmth that my house lacked. Euphemia and Fleumont were everything my own parents were not, they treated James like the most perfect person to ever exist, and me like the second.
When James came to Cornwall we stayed out, going to the beach or the town. When he had found out i had never been to the beach before he had been shocked,
“But what do you mean you’ve never been to the beach! You live in Cornwall for Merlin's sake!”
I shrugged, “I dunno, Mother never took us.”
He rolled his eyes, “Your mums a toff.” he muttered, then looked up alarmed, “Please don't tell Mum i said that”
James always called Euphemia ‘Mum’ and never Mother. (Though i knew he actually called her Mummy when he thought i couldn't hear). I liked that about him, how he always tried to impress me, as if i were a person to be impressed. It made me feel special, being James Potter's best friend.
Everything was how it should’ve been, days sitting on the beach and nights curled up under the duvet, laughing and talking until we fell asleep from pure exhaustion. We ate breakfast at mine and dinner at his, and the floo became our lifeline. It was like my life had clicked, finally.
December came full fling, unlike last year, where I spent Christmas pining for my sister, I had now virtually forgotten her. James was all that mattered now.
The cold had set in, and we spent a lot more time in front of the fire. My Mother, having grown fond of James in her distant, neglectful way, sometimes lay out mugs of hot chocolate, charmed to stay at the perfect temperature, for the two of us to discover. We would carry them to the rug by the fireplace me and Pandora had once sat on, and watched the fire as we spoke.
The snow started then, and we would spend longer days in the Potters garden stumbling around with Fleumont, building snowmen and playing ‘snow quidditch’ while Euphemia made mince pies and cookies for us.
Pandora's present arrived on Christmas eve, a night my Mother, much to my surprise, encouraged me to spend at the Potters, sending me off with a present from her and my father to put under the Potters Christmas tree for “you and James to share”.
I had realised, with a horrible jolt, I had not written to my sister for nearly two months, too distracted with James to think.
Inside the package from her was a jumper, with a card tucked inside the neck.
Dearest Peter
Merry Christmas! I'm sorry we haven't been as in touch recently as we usually are, but hopefully in the new year that can change.
I will be staying at Hogwarts this year, and hope you won't be too lonely without me.
Give my love to our parents and enjoy the snow.
Lots of love, Pandora
I had never been sure how to tell her about James, so I never had.
I quickly pulled the jumper on, letting her smell surround me once more. It was slightly oversized on me, dark blue with intricate white patterns on. I sat there, in front of the unlit fireplace with my bag ready for the Potters, remembering her for one lovely second.
Christmas day was wonderful. We woke up early and me and James raced downstairs to find Fleamont and Euphemia already there, sipping tea and talking quietly.
We exchanged presents, and l was delighted to find several presents with my name under the tree.
From James, my very own beginners broomstick with a book on quidditch. I held the broomstick in my hands, feeling the smooth wood. I would never be as good as James, but maybe I could try. Maybe.
From Mother and Father a box of chocolate cauldrons,
And from Euphemia and Fleamont a set of exploding snap cards and polish for my new brooms.
We sat around the fire that evening, all four of us, talking and bickering and yawning. I decided then that Christmas was my favourite time of year.
March arrived with the melting of snow and James began to get restless.
“Only two months now!” He exclaimed one day, while we sat playing wizards chess.
“Um, queen to D4… Wait, what do you mean?”
He bit his thumbnail, “Knight 2 to F3… I mean my birthday obviously! It's going to be so fun!”
“Queen to F3… Oh! That's cool, now you’ll finally be the same age as me”
It was strange to think of James Potter younger than me, much younger than me. You couldn’t tell, by looking at us he was clearly taller, but it was true, i was 10 and he was only 9.
“Oh Merlin, you got me! Uh…. Knight 1 to E6”
“Whats it with you and knights”
He grinned at that, running his hands through his hair and making a ‘knight’ pose “Don't you think i would make a great knight? Rescuing damsels in distress from peril!”
Euphemia walked in at that and snorted, “James, women will be the one rescuing you”
James stuck his tongue out at her as I took his other knight.
“UH! You are way too good at this game Pete, let's go play on our brooms instead.”
“You only don't want to play the game anymore because Peter is better than you.” Euphemia scolded, “Anyways, Peter, I believe it's time to go home now, your Mother will be wondering where you got to.”
I pushed my chair back as James protested, slumping back in his seat. “Goodbye Euphemia, Bye James, see you tomorrow?”
He brightened up at this and grinned at me, “Yeah see you Pete!”
It was simple like that, a simple pattern, we came and went, we laughed and giggled, we shouted and whispered, the wheel of life for two young boys.
Pandora's birthday arrived and I sent her a present, Euphemia had helped me pick it out, a magical nail varnish in blue that changed shades based on your mood, and a first edition of the tales of beedle and bard. I got a letter back two days later.
Dearest Peter
Thank You so much for the presents! They were beautiful! Mother must have helped you pick them out for me, so tell her thankyou for me, i’ll see you in the summer but write sooner xxx
-Pandora
On James’ birthday I was permitted to go to the theatre with the Potters in London. It was a reenactment of Merlin's adventures, James’ icon. It was an hour of James excitedly whispering to me and the old witch in front of us shushing us repeatedly, with me and James trying not to laugh behind her.
After that we sat in the leaky cauldron, seeing who could drink the most butterbeer. Euphemia rolled her eyes as Fleamont cheered me on.
“Dad you’re meant to cheer me on, its my birthday”
Fleamont had pulled his face and slapped me on the back, “But Peter’s my favourite ol’ boy, gotta up your game.” but he was laughing and we all joined in, trying to stop ourselves.
I forgot when Pandora was to come home, so one afternoon, sitting on my bed with James, playing exploding snap, I was surprised by her return.
My bedroom door had opened, and I was faced by Pandora, older again, her hair even longer, looking between me and James in pure confusion.
“Who- who is this?”
Before I could speak James had hopped up and was striding towards her, arm outstretched. “You must be Pandora, I'm James, Peter's best friend!”
She looked taken aback, I could see it all unravel in her face, and she turned, slamming the door leaving James standing there, horrified.
“What in Merlin's name just happened?”