The bitter row with his mother left a sour taste in Peter's mouth.
The resentment clung to him even as he trudged along the gravel path, dragging his heavy suitcase towards the bus stop. His mother remained standing in the doorway, arms folded tightly across her chest, her voice wound into a knot of anxious concern.
"Peter, it's London. You can't just..."
"I can," he cut in sharply, his suitcase thudding against a loose stone. "I'm fifteen. I'm perfectly capable of getting on the Hogwarts Express without anyone holding my hand."
The silence that followed was worse than any shouting match.
The sort of silence that seemed to say she could see straight through him.
See the frightened, awkward boy hiding behind squared shoulders and a desperate attempt to look brave.
He hated that.
He hated the suffocating, silent concern that filled their little house. Hated the way the tiny floral wallpaper seemed to close in around him from every side.
Hogwarts, with its crackling fireplaces and endless stone corridors, meant freedom.
This place was a cage.
Peter dropped his suitcase beside the lonely bus stop with a determined clatter. September already carried a bite of cold. He checked his watch.
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes standing here alone, trapped with his thoughts and the dull ache in his side where the suitcase had been digging into him.
He never heard them approach.
The wind and the distant rumble of a tractor swallowed their footsteps.
A shadow fell over him.
"Well, well. Look who we've got here. Off to your fancy castle again?"
Peter stiffened.
He knew that voice.
Mikey.
Slowly, he turned.
There were three of them.
The village boys.
Mikey, wearing his usual smug grin. Gary beside him, as always. And Tom.
Once, they'd been friends.
They'd built dens in the woods, wandered through the fields, invented daft games together...
But that had been a long time ago.
Before the letter.
Before an invisible wall of magic had grown between them.
"Private school," Gary sneered, putting on an exaggerated posh accent. "Got your uniform on already, Petey?"
"Leave me alone," Peter muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the empty road as though sheer force of will might make the bus appear sooner.
"What's the matter?" Mikey stepped closer. He smelled of cigarettes and stale sweat. "Too good for us now? Your mum says you're off to some boarding school. Going to learn Latin and polish silver, are you?"
Something hot and sharp twisted in Peter's stomach.
That same feeling.
When James talked over him.
When Sirius laughed so loudly it drowned out everything Peter had been trying to say.
When his mother looked at him with those disappointed eyes.
The feeling of being...
Small.
Ridiculous.
Just Peter.
He lifted his head and met Mikey's gaze.
"I said... piss off."
Mikey's grin widened.
"Blimey. Listen to him. Goes off to his fancy school and suddenly he's found his backbone."
"Funny you should mention that," Peter replied.
His voice came out cold.
Steady.
Almost unfamiliar, even to himself.
"Perhaps all of you ought to crawl back to your pig farm."
The words hung in the air.
Sharp.
Ugly.
For a heartbeat, only the wind remained.
Then Mikey's face twisted.
The amusement vanished completely, replaced by something far simpler.
Pure anger.
The punch was clumsy.
A wide, swinging blow from someone used to scrapping behind bike sheds.
Peter saw it.
Flinched.
Too late.
The knuckles slammed into the space just above his left eye with a sickening crack.
White light exploded across his vision.
He staggered.
The world lurched sideways.
His suitcase crashed onto the ground.
He didn't fall.
Only swayed, one hand clamped over his face.
The skin was already swelling beneath his fingers. A hot, throbbing pain spread deep into his skull.
Through the blur of tears in his good eye, he saw Mikey shaking out his hand, looking almost surprised by the force of his own punch.
Gary and Tom exchanged an uneasy glance.
Mikey leaned in until his breath brushed Peter's ear.
"So," he hissed quietly, venom dripping from every word, "looks like you really have found your teeth."
A pause.
"Suppose it's time someone reminded little Petey where he belongs."
Then they left.
Disappearing down the lane while the wind carried away the sound of their laughter.
Peter was alone again.
One hand pressed against his face.
His mouth tasted of blood from a split lip he hadn't even realised he'd cut.
The bus rounded the corner with a groaning engine.
With a growl of frustration, Peter hauled his suitcase upright.
The fresh ache blooming across his face was a perfect reflection of the heavier pain tightening steadily around his chest.
By the time Peter finally found the right compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express, the throbbing pain in his head had dulled into a persistent, nagging ache.
He'd tried a simple Healing Charm in the lavatory, but the spell had done little more than splutter feebly and dissolve into a shower of sparks. Healing had never been his strongest subject.
A magnificent bruise had already bloomed beneath his left eye, spreading in shades of purple and yellow, while his eyelid had swollen so badly the skin was stretched tight and glossy.
All he wanted was to collapse onto a seat, pull his hood over his head, and pretend to be asleep until they reached Hogwarts.
Rating: Mature
Characters: Remus/Sirius; Regulus/James
Tags: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort (Harry Potter); Found Family; Friendship; Character Study; Slice of Life; Coming of Age; Slow Burn
Summary:
Before they became memories, they were just children.
They caught trains, skipped classes, collected bruises, fell in and out of friendships, wandered through forests, listened to music, watched the stars, and tried to understand who they were becoming.
A story about the Marauders, the people around them, and growing up at Hogwarts.
Status: Ongoing
Створюю чат для таких самих дівчат-гіків як я для спілкуванням. Якщо вам таке цікаве, прошу до мого тгк: заради голосування та лінку на майбутній чат.
Трохи про мене та чого я шукаю:
Привіт! Я — художниця та авторка під псевдонімом ezolenta. 🌿
Шукаю невелику компанію дівчат-ґіків, з якими можна було б спілкуватися, ділитися творчістю, обговорювати фандоми, музику, ідеї та просто час від часу кидати одна одній пріколі.
Зараз я найбільше зациклена на Поттеріані (особливо епосі Мародерів), але насправді я мультифандомна людина, тому мої інтереси постійно змінюються. Через якийсь час можу повернутися до старих захоплень або несподівано знайти нове.
Малюю та пишу те, що мене зараз найбільше захоплює. Якщо цікаво, можете пошукати мене в соцмережах за ніком ezolenta — думаю, це найкраще передає мою атмосферу.
Трохи про мене:
20 років
Малюю та пишу
Музичний ньорд
Люблю леґо, пазли, мох, росу на павутині, гарбузи й круасани з абрикосом.
Фандоми та інтереси:
- Harry Potter (Marauders Era)
- D&D
- Attack on Titan
- Stranger Things
- Naruto
- Arcane
- Dungeon Meshi
- Houseki no Kuni
- Avatar: The Last Airbender
- Adventure Time
- Chainsaw Man
- The Summer Hikaru Died
- My Little Pony
- South Park
Ігри:
- Baldur's Gate 3
- Cyberpunk 2077
- Stardew Valley
- Life is Strange 2
- The Last of Us
- Spiritfarer
- Night in the Woods
- Inscryption
Музика: зараз найбільше слухаю TOOL, Radiohead та Sonic Youth. Загалом музичний ґік і люблю говорити про музику.
origamiaround
snowghoul
germansingergirl