W O R M T A I L

Peter Pettigrew Best not to look back. Best to BELIEVE that there will be happily ever afters all the way around - and so there may be; who is to say there will not be such endings? Not all boats which sail away into darkness never find the sun again, or the hand of another child.

[dulcepericulum-rp]

Ask Meme Monday: 002

Hello hello everyone! We apologize for missing last week’s Ask Meme Monday, but we’re back today with another one!  

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[pettishrew]

amarazabini‌:

Amara could almost feel the anxiety coming off of him in waves. The boy was perhaps the most skittish creature she had ever seen. Part of her wondered if he was more deserving of her pity than her scheming but she had no pity to give. After all she had never received any. A small laugh left her lips as she tried to comfort him. Calm him. “How wonderfully interesting. Do you enjoy your work? I imagine it might be hard to have to erase the memories of people.” She actually thought she would enjoy taking the memories from people but that didn’t seem to be appropriate conversation. “Oh. I wouldn’t know what the main concerns were of the ministry. I’m afraid I’m only visiting a friend here. I don’t actually work here so I’m quite out of the loop.”

Peter noticed the laugh. 

        It was small, perhaps not as menacing as it seemed. Although he didn’t know the woman and wasn’t keen on finding out her intentions. This was someone who he just accosted in the atrium of the Ministry. Most people didn’t take kindly to that. “Uh,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, trying to take a deep breath. “Well enough, keeps the lights on doesn’t it.” In truth, Peter found a sort of solace in his work. It was calming to know what you were set out to do, what you were supposed to erase. He liked to believe that it might be something vital he was keeping from the muggle world. Not to mention it allowed him to blend in nearly everywhere he went. 

       Peter’s eyebrows rose at her next remark. “Enjoy the underground scenery ? ” He asked, chuckling at the thought. The lack of sunlight in here was truly tragic. The architecture really spoke to the whole bureaucracy thing. Maybe it wasn’t as clever as he thought it was. “Quite the opportune time to visit. You can witness all the departments walk around as if their heads were cut off. They’ll recover of course, but it is certainly a fun people watching sport.” 

[misanthropicmessiah]

DETAJ SS16 | Bandage jewelry

[mjalti]

I hate it when people ask “do you trust me” like …don’t call me out like that ……..the answer is no

[tim-lucy]

every character i love ★ nick miller (new girl) “i’ve decided to give up on women and put all that energy into tomatoes.”

[pettishrew]

lizselwyn‌:

Who: Liz + @pettishrew​ When: February 16th, noon. Where: Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Four long days had passed since the full moon. 

Four long days where it felt as if her bones were physically having to form back into place, where her back ached and her head screamed with a thudding pain. Three agonising days where Elizabeth had to pull herself into work in the evenings and pretend that all was fine, pretend that she couldn’t smell the dried blood under their client’s fingernails and that her stomach wasn’t growling for the rarest steak that she could get without just eating raw meat itself. This morning was the first morning that she had woken up without an immediate aching pain, and that in itself indicated that it was shaping up to be a good day. 

Today might even be the day that Amara found her wedding dress too, their appointment was later on this afternoon. Elizabeth had dragged herself out of bed in her little apartment and thrown open the curtains, welcoming in a new day largely free of pain. It was with that fresh outlook upon the day that Elizabeth welcomed the sun in and dressed accordingly. She had long held the belief that the universe reflected the mood that you had, and she was determined to make this day a good one. If nothing else, Elizabeth didn’t want to be in a foul mood when it came to Amara’s dress fitting. Her secret remained private for now, and she didn’t need Amara asking questions. Glamours covered the dark circles beneath her eyes, and a quick shower reinvigorated her hair that had grown limp after four days of hell. 

Feeling optimistic, Elizabeth hopped on the Knight Bus towards Diagon Alley and stepped into the alley just before noon. The dress fitting was at 1:30, and so she had some time to spare. Obscurus books was surely calling her name, but first….a quick stop to Florean’s. It would be the first real food she’d eaten since the full moon, but she could hardly resist the call of her favourite apple crumble flavoured ice cream. Slipping inside, Elizabeth stood in line behind a man who was clearly having a difficult time deciding what he should have. “If you were looking for suggestions, the Sticky Toffee Pudding flavour is incredible. Chocolate and raspberry too…the raspberry is quite tart, but the sweetness of the chocolate offsets it perfectly.”

Peter was destined to make friends in this ice-cream parlor. 

         At least that was his first thought when he heard the voice behind him. He had a conversation with Pandora earlier in the month at this very spot. It could be that people thought that ice-cream made people approachable, or willing to discuss things with a stranger. That was not the case with Peter. He preferred his ice-cream shop to be quiet as he was able to people watch near the window. To find some quiet in his life that he was able to keep safe from the worry and turmoil. Despite that, it didn’t mean he had the heart to be rude to someone else, especially about such a common topic. He was most exhausted. His days at work were taking a toll on him, and he was finding comfort in food. Which was not new, but had led to conversations like this. 

        Peter rubbed the back of his neck, shooting a glance over at the woman. She certainly wasn’t someone that he recognized before which meant if she was apart of the usual crowd they had differing schedules. “Sticky Toffee Pudding is a good flavor I reckon, although you make a compelling case for the raspberry.” The slight upturn of the corner of his lips as he looked over the flavors. “The Mint Chocolate Chip is my go-to, but I think I’ll take your suggestion and go with the raspberry.” Peter looked up to the shop attendant and ordered the scoop in a waffle bowl. 

          If anything was true in the world it was how much the Pettigrew man loved his chocolate. It probably compromised a few pounds on his frame by itself. While waiting for the attendant to finish he looked back toward her. “Which one do you think you’ll go with? The Toffee or another flavor?”

[lestateur]

[pettishrew]

👀have you ever been concerned about the form your animagus takes?

“A rat?”

         Peter shook his head. “Never saw any problem with it. Quiet like it actually. It allows me to find small spaces to feel safe in, to observe people without them realizing it.” He responded. “We can’t all be as big and flashy as a stag or the actual symbol for death. It doesn’t work out that way for most people. And it’s not really something that you can choose. Honestly, I’m happy I have one at all if we’re frank. With all my issues in other magical areas, it is a blessing that it never extended into being an animagus.” He paused for a moment, taking a drag of the cigarette he had left unattended. “You’re just prejudiced because rats are thought to be the cause of the bubonic plague. You’re angry that something so small could completely wreck your shit.” 

[pettishrew]

👀if you could give yourself any compliment in the world, what would it be?

Peter frowned. 

          “There isn’t any compliment I really want to give myself. It’s not something to think of like that.” There was a shrewdness that came from living a life like his. One where the fantasy of a compliment was not something he spent idle time on. He was much more focused on practical concerns – of things that lingered in the darkness and were very much real. Things that he could not outrun or outthink. There is a heavy sigh that passes from his mouth as he figures out how he might answer such an inquiry. “I suppose the compliment I would want to give myself is that I’m enough. That the thinks I’ve done will add up more than just what other people see. Whether that’s someone close to me or someone passing by. That they’ll see more than a bumbling idiot who trips over his own feet – that they could see someone better than that. Someone worthy.” The word was heavy on his tongue and there was no way to lessen the load. So, Peter shrugged, resigned to the fantasy of it all. Even if someone said those things to him now he wasn’t sure he’d believe them. He never did. 

[pettishrew]

commanderlestrange‌:

Too many moving parts.

That phrase kept repeating through Bellatrix’s mind. It was risky, breaking into Hogwarts twice in the same month. The first mission had been successful enough, perhaps because they had been caught off guard. Now people would be anticipating it. Bellatrix had seen people throughout the castle, not large amounts, just enough to be concerned about. Her skill with magic was quite something, but even she couldn’t fight off twenty Order members alone. Picking them off one by one was going to be much easier, much cleaner. She’d already had to cast a silencing charm on her shoes lest she alert one too quickly. 

It was almost painful - the idea of killing so many without causing them real pain, but it was simple. It was unfortunate, she supposed, that the The Grey Lady had chosen to glide through the wall and exclaim in surprise at seeing her masked figure creeping through the halls. A whispered depulso sent him reeling away, but his yell echoed through the corridors. Bellatrix fell silent for a moment, standing still as she waited to see which Order cockroach might crawl out of the gutter to see what was occurring. The unmistakable sound of cautious footsteps followed, and Bellatrix extended her wand in front of her, a wicked smirk beneath her mask.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Bellatrix sung, her tone cruel. She was yet to come across someone after creeping in through a tunnel, and she was aching to leave a trail of bodies behind her. Wordlessly, Bellatrix sent cast lumos to illuminate the dark corridor and a cruel laugh fell from her lips as she saw who was cowering in the shadows. “Little Pettigrew….cowardly as ever. Face me like a man,” Bellatrix hissed, before sending an impediment jinx his direction. 

She was brutal. 

       Crazy was the word that people like to say about her most, but Peter knew it was the cruelty that made her stick out in their memories. Whether it was the slicing words she knew stung or how to exploit your personal weakness. It was a futile quest to deny what she was. The echoed taunted flitted around the room and made his blood run cold. It was something he would have heard as a child, who was playing a game. However, there was no game insight and very real consequences to his actions. Peter struggled to find something to think of how to get him out of this, the panic already surging through him. His wand was in hand, but he was unprepared to make a move just yet. The idea of actually harming someone by his own hand was something he had not done yet. 

          Ever the bully Pettigrew had always made someone else do his dirty work for him. Enjoying the torment on their expressions without having to lift a finger to do it. That’s what had happened with Snape at least. It had been easy to watch as James turned him upside down or Sirius called him horrid names. While poor, cowardly, Pettigrew got to sit on the sidelines and enjoy the spoils of war. It was only the light from her wand that pulled him from such thoughts. The ways the harsh light hit his features and he realized that he had nowhere left to hide. He certainly could turn into a rat, but he feared that would do him more harm than good at the moment. 

        “B-B-B,” Was all that he was able to form before she shot a jinx his way. Peter staggered toward, narrowly avoiding it. He wasn’t quick enough to keep doing that though. Peter flicked his wrist and sent an expelliarmus toward her, brow furrowed in concentration. He knew he wasn’t out of practice, but his nerves still made him feel that way. Peter went to duck behind the corner of a nearby hallway, trying to move away from the supply closet if possible. “ I - I’m not w-w-worth your time.” He reasoned, lips quirking downward. Peter needed a plan. An appealing one at that. “Not worth your time.” 

[pettishrew]

👀 Who is one person you’d like to get to know better?

He shrugged. 

         “I don’t really care to know anyone better than I already do. I think I’ve got my hands full enough with James, Sirius, and Remus. I mean, have you seen that lot ? A whole slew of issues.”  Peter cracked a smile, it was all in good fun. Despite the fact that their furry friend had gone on an unprecedented sabbatical for some reason or another. And Lily and James seemed holed up in the Potter house a little more than usual. Or the fact that Sirius was nearly murdered by his very dear cousin. All of their lives were normal - typical even - nothing to worry about. He had enough on his hands with just getting to know those people better. To make sure that he wasn’t something that faded as the memory of their childhoods became more distant. 

        “Actually, maybe Mary. I always feel like I should know her better than I do. We have hung out with the same group for years and I could barely tell you her eye color.” Peter admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck in thought. There were honeyed words that he wished he knew better at well. Secrets that would slip through his lips without even realizing it too. “I suppose Sinistra falls into that category too. I know of her – and I know her to an extent, but mostly she’s still an enigma to me. Maybe she always will be.” 

@marymacd || @ofsinisters

[pettishrew]

Who: Peter & @gidexnprewxtt​ When: February 29, 1980 Where: The Leaky Cauldron

A pint of firewhiskey in front of him. 

       Peter’s hands curled around the mug with a sense of hesitation. There were a few instances in his life where he felt inclined to buy a drink. He had offered to buy one for Gideon as well. Partially for the company, but also because he felt like he wanted to talk to someone. Perhaps not come clean about what happened back at the castle, but talk in vague terms about it all. Thank you, he motioned toward the barkeep. Peter brought the heavy mug to his lips and took a deep sip. “So how did it go ?” He asked, looking over at Gideon. 

        It still unnerved him sometimes to try to tell the difference between the two Prewett’s. He knew that they couldn’t help being twins but it did often confuse him. He ran a hand through his hair, looking around the room. It was pretty barren today. Which made sense for the time that they had arrived here, it was nearly the middle of the day. After this Peter was set to visit Sirius at St. Mungo’s and somehow hide his shame there. He leaned back onto the chair that he was in and allowed the ambient noise to soothe his worried mind. Peter looked over at the other man, “Settling with the news of Moody and everything ?” 

        Peter had a habit of doing that. Unfurling thoughts as they were punctuated with questions. It was as if he was unwilling to commit to saying a full sentence in the first place. Perhaps because he already knew some of the answers to the things he was inquiring about. Because this seemed more like a force of habit for some instances than true conversation. “I know that Sirius . . .” He trailed off, biting his lower lip. “Well, I plan to visit him next.” 

[pettishrew]

👀 on a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you absolutely love the handsome and noble sirius black?

“That prat?”

        There was a grin on the Pettigrew boy’s features. The kind he used to wear as he walked through the hallways of Hogwarts. A grin of mischief, and fun. Nowadays his expression seemed to don more somber emotions, all the thoughts in his head splaying themselves out on his features like a map. A map that pointed to his fear, and doubt, and inabilities. He was relishing that the grin, even if the question seemed absurd to him. “It’s a ten, but don’t go around telling him that. His head is already big enough as it is. If he asks tell him it’s a six and a half.” 

[pettishrew]

amarazabini‌:

Amara had heard of the news of Hogwarts closing down and of course she had made her way to the Ministry. Though she did not work there she often came to the building for various meetings. Being a wealthy socialite opened many doors that were not necessarily open to the public and if you knew the right people you learned information much easier than if you tried obtaining it from random sources on the street. She had just been leaving one of her meetings and she had been walking down the hallway when a rather clumsy boy tripped in front of her sending what seemed to be hundreds of papers flying all over the hall. She might have rolled her eyes and walked around him in disdain had she not learned the valuable lesson of kindness. 

A small smile came easily to her lips as if she was kindness incarnate. A simply flick of her wand had all the papers that remained on the floor after his awkward scrambling about coming neatly into a pile in her arms. “Here. Let me help you.” She held out the stack of files to him glancing down for just a moment to see what they had to say. “I’m perfectly fine. Are you alright though? You took quite the fall. My name is Amara. It’s so lovely to meet you. The ministry is quite alive at the moment. It’s no wonder you might be a bit frazzled.”

He couldn’t place her. 

        Normally if he couldn’t remember someone’s name he could at least narrow it down to a department. Despite everyone in each department is unique and different there were common threads that clung to each department. For the oblivators, he would say that it was their general unwillingness to engage with others. The way they crept into the background, feet quickly and quietly. Unless of course, you were Peter Pettigrew, then you tossed your papers all over the floor. The Aurors tended to be a burly and loud sort, ready to take on issues without hesitation. If he had to guess he would have said that the woman must work in administration. She was rather put together and Peter tried to avoid any meeting with the higher-ups if possible. He wanted to be trusted within the Ministry, but he could do without the bureaucracy of meetings and owls early in the morning. 

        Peter noticed the smile first, mostly because people did smile like that at him. It was all too welcoming, and not in the maternal sort of way. He watched as she gathered the papers with a flick of her wrist. There were some instances -- especially panic -- where he had not seemed to scrub himself clean of his muggle ways. There was a small sense of relief that he felt when she said that she was all right. “I’m fine, used to this sort of thing,” Peter said. “Pleasure to meet you, Amara, I’m Peter. I work in the obliviator department.” He looked around the room, nodding along with the sentiment. “Well, there’s a lot to be done, with the owls and such. A lot to take care of. I am sure some frazzled employees are the least of our concerns” 

[pettishrew]

Who: Peter & @seirioscanis​ When: February 29, 1980 Where: St. Mungo’s 

Peter had half a mind not to show up. 

        There was a sense of guilt that was tearing away at him. Something that he couldn’t claw away, that instead was eating him whole. The thought of not coming to the hospital after what had transpired at Hogwarts was a possibility he entertained. In fact, it took an insurmountable amount of pacing and muttering to himself that this was the right course of action. His presence would be noticed far quicker if he failed to show up than if he visited. He walked through the hallways of the hospital with a sense of unease. As he passed the patients he felt their eyes linger on him, as if they knew what he did before he had the gall to tell them. 

        Had he done the right thing? Peter had been dealing with Bellatrix of all people. And Lily had been right there. James’s Lily. The Lily the Potter boy had chased for most of their adolescence. It had been a grave oversight to put Peter in charge of protecting her, something he would have changed if he could have. James was better suited. More skilled and confident in his abilities. Peter had some tricks up his sleeves, but not enough to combat the brutal Lestrange woman. It was awfully difficult to perform nonverbal magic when you were in such pain that the thought of a spell was nowhere near on your mind. It had been the only option he had thought of -- and he had seized it. 

        Peter rounded a corner, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. Sirius could protect himself. At least that’s what he had thought. How was he supposed to know it would have gone this sour? Peter gnawed on his bottom lip. There was no way that Peter could admit what he had done to the injured man. Sirius, although not as chaotic as Bellatrix, still had a streak of cruelty that Peter was all too acquainted with. There was no way that he could endure that today. Not to mention it might hinder Sirius’s healing. The right thing was to keep it from him. It had to be. 

        He rapped on the door that Sirius was supposed to be behind, opening it slowly. Peter poked his head around the corner, quietly walking into the room. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Peter said softly, taking in the damage that had been done. The damage he had done. 

[pettishrew]

👀 + what's your best memory, the one that conjures your strongest patronus?

“You’re a funny one.”

        Anyone who had been in his third year Defense Against the Dark Arts knew the shame he felt as he failed to conjure a patronus. Merlin knew he could barely handle a boggart. “ I thought about trying to conjure one again. Although I’m not sure it’s worth the trouble anymore. And I don’t know -- for sure I mean - but I think the memory would be with my mother. Maybe one of us baking a cake right before my birthday, The flour spilled around the kitchen, and her letting me lick the spoon.” Peter gave a small chuckle. It was such a simple thing to be his happiest memory. So many of his friends would have things that were much more compelling or remarkable. Peter was happy for any sliver of happiness that he was granted, and that extended especially to birthdays. “She makes the best cakes, always has. I never found anything in Hogsmeade that could even compare.” 

[lizzie-mcguire]

This is me. I think it’s apparent I need to rethink my life a little bit. What’s my problem? First of all, I’m a rat, which means life is hard. And second, I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell.