Peter Pettigrew

1980 | The Rat Trap | Peter & Rabastan

#rat trap #para: rab #the rat trap #reply

rabastanlestrxnge:

At Peter’s question, Rabastan lifted his chin. So he was smarter than he appeared. It was a curious thing he had stumbled upon, this lump of a boy who begged for mercy, who was ready to sell out his allies. A boy whom also had abilities far beyond Rabastan’s but was not receiving the recognition he desired. It was a curious case indeed, one of which Rabastan had every intention of putting to his use.

“No, I would not trust a secret,” he replied, keeping his gaze even on Peter. He listened to the young man speak and it was as if Rabastan was peering into his thoughts, his intimate emotions, without the use of Occlumency. It was simple enough to understand: Peter wanted recognition, acceptance, and he was not getting it from the Order of the Phoenix. Rabastan would not give it to him either, but he could sell him something better. Something that would be difficult to refuse.

“You are no different from us,” Rabastan spoke smoothly, a smile gracing his lips. “We, like your allies, simply want to be useful…” He stood up slowly and pointed his wand at Peter’s body. The ropes on him fell to the floor and vanished into thin air.

“My master says there is no good and evil,” he said, lowering his wand. “Only power, and those too weak to seek it.” He twirled both his wand and Peter’s in his hand. “You are not weak, Peter. I can sense weakness in a person. When a snake flickers his tongue into the air, he smells his prey’s fear, his weaknesses. You…” He shook his head. “You can be so much more than prey.”

Peter watched as the other sifted through his thoughts, he himself doing the same. It was hard to admit that this despicable, disgusting death eater maybe right. That maybe the side he and the other order members had been conditioned to think were the enemy, in fact had their own humanity, and their own reasons behind these seemingly outrageous beliefs.

“Not different?” Peter mouthed, watching the other pick himself up. How could they not be different? One side fought for rights that should never be taken from anyone - rights that extended the use of magic to all able to wield it, and the other hell bent on extinguishing them. “How can?” He began to vocalize his thoughts, but stopped abruptly as the other released his binds.

You are not weak, Peter. I can sense weakness

It was better than magic, what Peter heard. It was the sound of acceptance. “Me, not weak?” Peter murmured the words that came from the other, watching as he twirled the two wands in his hands. Peter tried to make sense of these words, thinking hard about what the other hoped to gain by talking to Peter like a potential recruit other than someone about to die.

“How can I be more?” Peter wondered. “How can I be sure?”

Help Me, Help You | Peter&Marlene | 1975

#help me help you #75 #reply: marlene

precautiouspeterpettigrew:

msmarlenemckinnon:

Marlene knew that Peter would help her, he was a good guy. She glanced at her date and made a face, she really needed to stop doing these stuff. He wasn’t even funny, all he did was talk about himself and his quidditch skills! He could’ve at least compliment her own, after all she was just as good as him if not better.

And then he agreed and she sighed relieved. “You are the best” she grinned and refrained from hugging him simply because her date was now watching them. “Yes, yes, of course… I’ll tell him that” she agreed. “Oh? Absolutely” she nodded, not liking the idea of picking a gift for Sirius Black but it was a small price to pay, she could always pick something ugly anyways.

“Okay, I’ll be right back give me a sec” she said before walking back into the teashop. Ugh, why did it have to be so pink? Once she arrived to her table, she apologized at least four times before grabbing her coat and purse. The bloke wasn’t too happy about it, but honestly, she couldn’t care less about it. If she wanted to hear someone brag about their quidditch skills, she had her brother Mark.

She quickly put on her coat and walked out of the teashop. “You are seriously the best! You would never believe how much of an idiot he was…” she told Peter, squeezing his arm gently. “Alright, where should we go first?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Go on,” Peter said, blushing at the compliment Marlene had thrown his way. He watched as Marlene shuffled back into the pink palace, his eyes straining to see what was happening as she approached the boy. Peter saw his once happy face sag lightly as Marlene broke the news to him. He watched how the other begged and then, after many apologies, he finally relented. It was a sad sight really, a young bloke, and an unexpected hit to his ego.

Peter continued to observe, watching as Marlene gathered her belongings and walk, in what Peter would describe as a brisk fashion, out of the teashop. “Looks like he took it rather well,” his voice seeping with sarcasm as he tried stifling a small chuckle.

You are seriously the best

Peter gave Marlene a small shove, his face red from the compliment. “You already said that.” He reminded her, feeling the gentle constriction she gave his arm. He was happy to have ran into Marlene, though the circumstances weren’t ideal, it gave the two time to catch up.

where should we go first?

“I was thinking we start with James’ present,” Peter said after a moment to ponder. He knew that searching for something ‘James worthy’ would be the best way to ease Marlene into the helping mood. “Maybe we start at the Quidditch shop?”

1980 | The Rat Trap | Peter & Rabastan

#para: rab #the rat trap #reply

precautiouspeterpettigrew:

rabastanlestrxnge:

Indeed, Rabastan was intrigued. Such a feeble kid with abilities like that went against everything Rabastan believed in, especially since he was not a pureblood. Rabastan’s mind was working quickly, pulling the strings in his brain to figure out a way to make the young man useful. Sure, killing him for trespassing on his grounds would be pleasurable, would certainly be something nice to reminisce over a glass of wine tonight. But if he could keep him alive and use him to his advantage, that would be even better, not only for him but the Dark Lord.

First, he’d have to earn his trust. Or fear. Perhaps both.

“Fair point,” Rabastan drawled, moving away from Peter’s face to continue to pace. He folded his hands behind his back, though still gripping both wands. “But I cannot imagine not trusting the very people you are fighting for. The people you are dying for.”

At Peter’s admission, Rabastan knew he’d been right. The young man was low in the ranks, and with one look at him and the traces of tears on his face, he could understand why. After a moment, he smirked carefully at Peter. “You are ambitious, then. A fine quality in anyone, enemy or not…” He stopped closer to Peter’s body. Instead of towering over him, he knelt closer to his height. His voice was measured, the exact tone of sympathetic and curious that it needed to be as he spoke: “You don’t care about this war, do you? The liberty of mudbloods and muggles… no, that’s not what it’s about. You just want to prove yourself.”

“Would you trust a secret to someone who you know doesn’t know your worth?” Peter asked, taking a gasp of air at the words his captor spoke. He made a fair point; why would Peter be so ready to jump through hoops for the order, and still be so reluctant to share this intimate part of himself? How could he trust his life to the order? Did he think it less than this secret?

You are ambitious, then.

Peter’s face turned light pink, once again confusing Rabastan’s words as compliments. Ambitious wouldn’t normally be used to describe him, though in this moment it did seem as the driving force for his actions. Peter watched as his captor stepped closer to him, bending to meet his level of vision as he spoke.

You just want to prove yourself

Peter nodded at the soft words that came from the other’s mouth, almost forgetting that he was held like a prisoner. “All I want is to be useful. . . wanted.” Peter listened as the words he spoke traveled into the open air. While it was true he wanted to be worthy of someone’s time, he also knew that what the order fought for was just. He knew that magic was, and is, the same in all who possess it, and that no one should be treated differently due to lineage. There was, however, this small part of him that just wanted to be loved. A piece that did not care for the antics of good and evil.

Help Me, Help You | Peter&Marlene | 1975

#reply #reply: marlene #help me help you

msmarlenemckinnon:

This was the last time she would agreed to go on a stupid blind date. One of her older friends insisted on her going on a date with one of his friends and she said yes because she had no plans for the weekend. Mary and Lily were going together and while she could always join them, she always felt like the spare one. She didn’t even bother on asking James because she already knew the answer and didn’t even want to get upset. Besides, she could always do with some action and a free butterbeer.

Her date’s name was Martin and it wouldn’t have been too terrible if he hadn’t taken her to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop. Marlene saw with horror the entire decoration. Ugh, why was everything so pink? And then Martin not only he ordered for her but also wouldnt stop talking about himself.

“And then there was this time when I literally saved Hufflepuff’s match…” he kept on going and Marlene did her best to repress her yawn. She looked around, wanting to distract herself from this fiasco and just like a miracle fallen from heaven, her eyes landed on Peter Pettigrew who was waving at her rather enthusiastically.

“Oh! That’s my friend Peter” she beamed, cutting Martin in the middle of his sentence. “Let me go and say hi to him, I’ll be right back” she said hurriedly and without giving him room to say anything, she rushed outside.

“Thank God for you Peter” she said dramatically and pressed an exaggerated smooch on his cheek. “You need to save me” she said once she pulled away. “I need to get out of this date and as your favorite girl it’s your practially your duty to help me, I’ll do anything, please” she grinned and acted all casually in case Martin was staring at them, though she was basically begging with her eyes. She probably wasn’t even his favorite girl, but she always had a thing for the dramatics.

Peter watched through the glass as Marlene spoke to the company she kept. He couldn’t help but laugh noticing the bored expression her face made as the boy talked. Peter knew well that it was hard to keep Marlene focused, though normally he found her better at hiding her boredom.

It seemed as though the boy had lost her attention just then when her searching eyes met his own. Peter gave another casual grin through the glass as he watched her dismissed herself from the table, rushing to meet him on the other side.

Thank God for you Peter

A light blush tinted his cheeks at the words Marlene spoke before she placed a kiss on his cheek. Peter knew that her nicety, while genuine most of the time, always came with a price. “Hello to you to, Marlene.” he said with a small chuckle.

I need to get out of this date

There it was, the price, a favor. It seemed as though Peter was right in his assumption; the man was dull. Peter looked at Marlene, falling for her dramatics. “Fine, fine. Tell him that you need to help me with a potions project, very tough subject.” Peter said, hoping this falsehood would be decent enough to get her out of her predicament. “But, I need you to help me shop for the boys. Need another set of eyes to help me find the perfect gifts.”

illness and injury |Peter & Andy| 1973

#illness and injury #para: andy #reply #73

call-me-andy:

She kept doing the check up listening to the boy talk, he was being coherent and his words weren’t slurred, both very good signs that he was fine aside from the cut on his forehead. “So you are friends, that’s good. Does he still snore when he sleeps?” she asked trying to make him focus on other things than permanently being injured by a dumb spell, but his nervous giggle let her reach to her own conclusion.

“It doesn’t matter who cast it, but it would help to know the spell, I might know the counter curse.” she quipped looking at Peter raising an eyebrow, “Something tells me, Sirius Orion Black III read a bunch of new spells and decided it would be fun to try them out. They backfired and that’s how you ended in the Hospital Wing?” she asked knowing the answer, she wasn’t mad, just glad this is all that happened.

Peter’s mind began to focus as curiosity swirled around inside him. It was one thing to know a student’s name, especially if said student was a regular visitor to Hogwarts hospital wing, but it was another entirely for her to know something so personal as Sirius’ sleeping habits. “Yes... He snores like a truck. But how did?”

It doesn’t matter who cast it, but it would help to know the spell

Peter nodded. He understood what she was saying, she needed to know which spell so she could help heal him. The problem was poor Peter couldn’t remember Sirius telling him what spell was used. In fact, now that he was looking back on it, Peter couldn’t recall him ever telling him the name of any spell, only its intended purpose. “I can’t remember the name.” Peter said trying to stay calm. “It was supposed to cause bleeding tongue, I think.” Peter’s face was contorted, trying think of more information to give her.

Sirius Orion Black III read a bunch of new spells

Peter looked at her bewildered at the information she could figure out. “Yes, well. We were playing, you see, and nobody else would volunteer.” Peter repositioned himself on the hospital bed. “I always volunteer.”

Help Me, Help You | Peter&Marlene | 1975

@msmarlenemckinnon

Hogsmeade weekend; a day where young Hogwarts students get to leave the studious school grounds, and venture into one of the very few all magic villages. A day where the kids of Hogwarts get to turn off their brains and spend time cultivating relationships made inside school walls. Under a thick cloak, Peter Pettigrew made his way through the grounds, and down the narrow path leading to the village. Usually he wouldn’t be seen without his friends; a group of pranksters bonded together by their love for adventure and mischief. Today, however, Peter made his way alone. He told the others that he needed some time to himself, which was true, but what he left out was his mission to get all of his Christmas shopping finished. In the past, Peter took each friend separately, having them help pick out a gift for someone else in the group. That worked well, or at least Peter thought it did, until he found the group of them exchanging what he had gotten for each of them.

Peter took in a breath of crisp, autumn air as he entered the village. Main Street was packed to the brim with young and tentative students, most of whom were first years, happy to get a break from their studies. Watching them hustle to get to each shop brought back fond memories for Peter. A small smile formed, letting nostalgia set in as he kept along the busy street. Passing windows, Peter couldn’t help but to peer into them, watching each of the shop’s occupants as they shopped. His face only growing curious when passing a tea shop and finding the most unlikely person to be there, Marlene McKinnon.

His smile only grew as he began waving frantically across the glass barrier, hoping that she would see him on the other side.

#help me help you #para: marlene #1975 #ttmestarter

Oh, you! | 1971 | Peter&James

#para: james #oh you #replies #71

castle-strutter-potter:

James watched as Peter followed him into the air, it was relief that he wasn’t some flight-phobic muggleborn who had no idea how to fly or even worse, hated flying. He cheered along as Peter made his way into the air and even clapped for him. “Go Peter!” He called, chuckling.

His face lit up at his suggestion and he nodded with excitement. “You betcha! Come on, we can race.” And with that, James sped off down the field, his feet nearly touching the grass below as he began to make his way upwards towards the first set of hoops.

The young lion swept easily through each of the hoops, this was child’s play. The Quidditch Wars at the McKinnon/Ogden places were far trickier. He and Mark used to charge at each other in midair, jousting like wizards of ye’ ole Hogwarts. “You’re pretty good on a broom!” He noted as he spun around to face Peter.

Peter let out a small gleeful giggle at the other’s excitement as he followed as fast his broom would let him go. Speeding down the Quidditch field, it was hard for Peter to imagine that just this morning he was making plans to spend the day studying.

Pulling upward on the broom, Peter soared to the first set hoops and then through them. His rigid movements gave away just how little experience he had with flying, stopping every so often to readjust his broom so he could make it to the next hoop without crashing into the rim. After he made it through each hole he charged straight ahead, hoping to catch up to the other and make a close second.

You’re pretty good on a broom

Peter blushed with embarrassment. “You don’t have say that,” he said, watching as the other turned to face him. Peter knew he wasn’t the best, especially not when compared to James, but for a first proper time flying, Peter was happy with what he did.

“I was struggling with those hoops. How do you move so fast?”

1980 | The Rat Trap | Peter & Rabastan

#reply #para: rab #the rat trap

rabastanlestrxnge:

Rabastan looked back down at the young man’s response, raising a dark eyebrow at him. He was thanking him, how curious of a thing to do when Rabastan was threatening him with a painful death and torture. He was quickly getting an idea of the boy at his feet, with tears still shining on his full cheeks. Rabastan leaned down and studied him. “Unregistered,” he remarked, then after a moment, he smirked. “Very impressive.”

He moved away from Peter and started to pace. “Nobody in the Order knows, you say– why?” He asked, turning back to look at the young man. “You clearly use the ability to your advantage. Why not tell them of this talent?” Rabastan’s voice had lost the harsh coldness of earlier. He molded his tone to sound curious, suggestive. “You must not be so high up in the ranks to be keeping this to yourself. Is that it?”

Peter watched as his captors demeanor began to change. It seemed as though he had said something of value, something that intrigued the man hovering above him. This, in turn, made the corners of his mouth curl slightly upward. It wasn’t often, nor had it been lately, that Peter felt needed.

You clearly use the ability to your advantage. Why not tell them of this talent?

“It’s illegal to be unregistered.” Peter said. Yes, it was true; not reporting your status as an animagi is illegal, but that wasn’t the reason he didn’t say anything. In fact, he wanted to keep it secret. He felt like it was the only thing that kept him close to his ever drifting friends. “I’d be in azkaban prison if I told the wrong person.”

You must not be so high up in the ranks

Peter’s mouth turned down once more. No, he wasn’t high up on the list of Order members, but that was the point of tonight. He was only here so that he could prove his worth, not get caught and tortured by the enemy. What were they going to think of him now? “I was gonna show them. Prove myself…” Climb the ranks, he wanted to shout. “I guess that is all over now though.” Peter was mumbling now, his eyes shifting from the death eater to the ground. It was just now dawning on him the severity of being caught. It didn’t matter what the other members thought of him, not when the chance of him getting out alive was slim.

illness and injury |Peter & Andy| 1973

#reply #para: andy #illness and injury

call-me-andy:

“Siri?” Andromeda frowned at the mention of that name, he wasn’t Sirius, was he confused, was he friends with his cousin? did Sirius hexed this poor boy? Merlin so many questions that popped in her head but she didn’t think Sirius was capable of hexing people that were nice so she would dig the whole story later. “Are you friend with Sirius?” she asked carefully cleaning his wound, that she could do without much trouble, “I need you to stay awake, please.” she instructed seeing his eyes close heavily for a hot second.

“Well, Peter, if I put a potion on your wound to close it up and you have another potion in it it might cause a chemical reaction, and if it’s a hex it might become worst, the wound might not seal or it would open even more, so could you please tell me if it’s just a bump down the stairs or something else?” she asked working carefully to clean the blood, head wounds always made a big mess no matter how small they were. “I’m the best, so it won’t leave a scar, that’s why I ask about the potions or spells. Just to avoid the worst case scenario.”

Peter frowned, making his eyes stay focused on the one above him. She was right, he couldn’t sleep now; no matter how drowsy he may be. He heard her ask a question about his friendship with the black boy, in turn peaking his interest. “Yes, I am close friends with Sirius. We’re dorm mates.” Peter said, a small, nervous chuckle bouncing through his words.

wound might not seal or it would open even more

Peter’s eyes widened at the new information; he felt conflicted more so than he did on his journey to the hospital wing. He didn’t want a gaping hole on his forehead nor did he want it to worsen, but he was still uncomfortable with tattling on his friends. “Maybe it was a spell. would it matter who casted it or which spell was used? Because I can’t remember too many details.” Peter said, gesturing to his forehead as if the blow would have caused situational amnesia.

Costumes: October 1976 | Messers, Prongs, Wormtail, Moony and Padfoot

#marauders #mini thread: costumes #76 #best friends

castle-strutter-potter:

marauder-sirius:

shrieking-moony:

Fuck off, James.

Look, Pete. You have a point- I wouldn’t trust either of these two either. If you can find the bolts, I’ll use a sticking charm to hold them in place.

Sirius I think the suit of armour would be a good choice, although you wouldn’t want Filch to catch you, he’ll drag you down to the dungeons for detention.

Are we sure getting wasterd is a good idea?

We all know what happened last time….

@marauder-sirius

Shove it, Peter. I’m going to flaunt these legs and there won’t be anything you lot can do about it. Why can Remus look like a hairy beast and not me?

A vampire? Don’t make me snore, Prongs, a bloody toddler has more imagination than that. Oi! You know what, I’m kicking your arse.

Actually Moony, I don’t remember happened last time we all got wasted. Isn’t that the whole point of getting wasted?

@castle-strutter-potter

Suit yourself.

You fuck off Remus! I’m tired of my genius going to waste in this ground. Totally seeing why the Beatles split now. Come on Moonshoes, live a little! One won’t kill you!

Kicking isn’t all you want to do to my arse, is it? Rawwwr! Behave. All right, what about, err… Hmm… One of them, thingies, what’re they called… You know… Clown! That’s it! I hear Fatima Rashide from the year below is terrified of clowns!

OoOoOooo a lady! oolala, Pads. Wormy wants you to be a lady. Tell us Peter, what kind of lady doth swoon your heart?

@precautiouspeterpettigrew

Thank you, Moony! I always knew I could count on you!

Fine, Pad. If you want to go as big foots hairier wife then be my guest. Just remember this conversation when everyone’s running to the door because you look like prepubescent girl with a hormonal imbalance.

Fuck off, Prongy-poo. You know you’re the only girl that could ever ‘swoon my heart.’

illness and injury |Peter & Andy| 1973

#illness and injury #reply: andy #1973

call-me-andy:

Andromeda was sure that the hit in the head would be nothing but as soon as the kid sat on the bed he lurched forward making Andromeda believe that this was a serious concussion more than just a bump in the head. She cleaned the floor with her wand because she would feel sick by the smell, being pregnant around upset stomaches wasn’t exactly ideal.

She puffed some pillows so the kid would have something to lean on. “That is a nasty cut but I’ll heal that in no time, can you tell me your name?” it would be important that he could remember his name and another details because of the injury. “Just a fall? because if there was a potion or a spell it would affect the healing.”

Peter laid on the recently fluffed pillows, a slight smile gracing his wet lips. Madam Pomfrey’s substitute was already infinitely better than she could ever be. He could imagine how this scene would have played had it been her to greet him instead. Peter shuddered as the image of a cross Pomfrey hounded him on the true origin of his cut. The sub, however, seemed to really care about his comfortability.

Can you tell me your name?

Peter nodded softly in response to her question. “Siri-” he paused not sure why he was about to speak his friends name instead of his own. “Sorry, I’m Peter.” he mumbled, exhaustion over coming him, not understanding why.

it would affect the healing.

Peter looked questioningly up at her. “Affect it how?” he asked, hoping she meant it would be more than a few hours as apposed to minutes. Anything more serious than that, Peter would have to tell her about the grounds; James, Sirius, and that spell. “I wouldn’t be cut forever, would I?”

1980 | The Rat Trap | Peter & Rabastan

#the rat trap #para: Rab #1980

rabastanlestrxnge:

Rabastan’s mind was racing to find any hint of a lie in the young man’s story. It was unbelievable to think that Hogwarts aged boys could become animagi all on their own, when not even powerful adults could do it with such ease. His steely blue eyes locked themselves onto Peter’s, staring hard, before he finally turned away. “That is… impressive,” he admitted, his voice even. Perhaps the idea he had of this kid was all wrong. Perhaps he was more powerful than Rabastan thought he was, the tears and sobs might all be an act.

“You are unregistered, then?” Rabastan asked him, keeping his wand steadily pointed at Peter. “And the Order of the Phoenix knows of this?” He was trying to put the pieces together, wondering if animagi were one of the Order’s secret weapons. It would make sense to use them as spies; Peter was simply unlucky that he had been found by the young recruits. The Dark Lord would definitely appreciate this intel that Rabastan would pass on to him.

Peter felt the heat rise in his now pink cheeks. A moment ago, this man was cracking his ribs with the side of his boot, and now he was complimenting Peter. Maybe it was a mistake to take what the death eater said as a compliment; it had been so long since he had been given one, he really didn’t know either way. “Er.. thank you, sir.” he squeaked almost breathlessly, wincing from the pain now radiating from his chest.

And the Order of the Phoenix knows of this?

Peter shook his head, biting his lip to try and take away from the pain of what he could only assume was a bruised rib cage. “I am unregistered, but no one to my knowledge knows about -” Peter took a deep breath, the pain from his chest worsening as it extended. “About my being an animagus.” And for the most part, Peter was telling the truth. No one aside from the three other marauders knew what they were or how they became Animagi; no one side from the one now in front of him.

Costumes: October 1976 | Messers, Prongs, Wormtail, Moony and Padfoot

#marauders #mini thread: costumes #76 #I love these guys

castle-strutter-potter:

marauder-sirius:

shrieking-moony:

@marauder-sirius

Fucking hell, James Potter actually knows something clever! Guys this is a momentous occasion! How should we celebrate?

Wait- what? I’m not putting bolts in your neck. Peter I don’t think I’m qualified for that. Plus I don’t wanna Uh- kill you.

Thanks Sirius, that easy to impersonate me, is it? Cheers guys, appreciate it.

Although, at least if Sirius is in a dress, it’s no different than how he normally is.

We should celebrate by cracking open that bottle I nicked from Slughorn! When’s the last time you lot got trashed, hmm?

I’m only trying to look like a drag queen, not Marlene Damn McKinnon. My legs will remain hairy and I will still look better than any of you. Or should I be one of those muggle Aurors? They’ve got funny little hats. Or, or, what about a Knight? Reckon I can charm one of the suits of armor into a costume? Merlin, I can’t decide!

Wormy-tail, I bet I can do it. How hard could it be? You’ve got nothing in there between those ears anyways!

@castle-strutter-potter

Lovely, cheers Wormtail.

Watch it Moony or I might take a shit on your bed. I mean it this time! And by shit, yes I mean deer poo.

Padfoot, you crafty bastard! Let us toast, to me brains and ma’ smarts!

Merlin, settle down Pads. At this rate, it’ll be a wonder to get you in anything that doesn’t clash with your eyes. I reckon you should go as a vampire. Be a tranny vamp if you want, I know how much you enjoy sucking!

Wormtail, come on buddy. It’ll hurt for like, a minute. If we fuck up, we’ll mourn you.

@precautiouspeterpettigrew

I understand, Rem. You’d rather have me trust my life in the hand of these two where I have more of a chance of death. I get it.

Sirius, if you go into the great hall with hairy legs and high heels, I won’t be able to say I know you. If you want to be a lady; you’ve got to act a lady. So, maybe knight might suit you better.

What the fuck is it with you and prongs wanting to kill me. I have enough brains not to let either of you around me with a wand, that’s for sure. And James, thank you for the sentiment, but I’d rather stay among the living, for now.

@shrieking-moony

Costumes: October 1976 | Messers, Prongs, Wormtail, Moony and Padfoot

#marauders #mini thread: costumes #76

castle-strutter-potter:

marauder-sirius:

shrieking-moony:

@marauder-sirius

Very funny, James. I’m still not happy about this y’know? It’s not a joke. You should know that better than anyone.

I don’t know, Pete. Maybe a Skeleton? I’m too busy sulking- James stop pulling faces. I’m not going to laugh no matter how hard you try- Oh for Merlin’s sake.

Sirius you’re too quiet, you having trouble there pal? We can always just throw a sheet over your head and pretend you’re a ghost!

Prongs, I find it quite insensitive that you’d dress up as a werewolf. If anything, you should just dress up as Remus. All you need is the wool cardigan and a smear of chocolate on your face.

You lot have the best ideas and I’ve got nothing— so much for brotherhood! The only thing I’ve come up with so far is drag queen.

@castle-strutter-potter

Aw cheers Wormtail, and I did debate the cardigan Pads but Moony would have smacked me. Oi! I’m not pulling any type of faces at you, I have ticks. It’s a problem really.

Right, so skeleton, werewolf, Frankenstien’s monster, because we’re all educated and know that the monster was not called Frankenstien and… A drag Queen. Fuck me Pads, it’s Halloween, you’re meant to dress up not wear your normal clothes. Merlin…

If you want an idea, you could always go as Little Red and I’ll be the Big Bad Wolf. Oi, oi. Do you need any held with your costume, Wormtail? I reckon I can enchant bolts in your head, without actually killing you. I can give it ago now, if you like?

@precautiouspeterpettigrew

Hey, I think Sirius would a pretty... hairy girl... Seriously, if you are going to wear a dress, Padfoot, you might want to shave those things you call legs. And, er... Not that I don’t trust you or your magic, Prongs, but I think i’ll be putting my life in far more capable hands.

What do you say, Moony? Can you stop sulking long enough to help me with my costume?

@shrieking-moony

Costumes: October 1976 | Messers, Prongs, Wormtail, Moony and Padfoot