ATYD - Peter's Version
This is the first chapter of my first ever fic! I'm very new to writing so it probably isn't going to be the best. Brace yourselves. I wanted to post it here before anywhere else to see if anyone had any tips or critiques!
Trying to keep things as normal as possible before his first day of Hogwarts tomorrow, Peter climbed into bed. The sheet was so old it had begun piling and made Peter feel scratchy. His mum could set it back to normal with a flick of her wand, but he hadn’t the mind to tell her. As he arranged his pillows, he felt his stomach settle, full of his mum's annual Back-To-School Roast. Chicken, mash, Yorkshire pudding, and gravy. The works.
He flipped his pillow over to the cold side and plopped his head down, lying there for a moment. As he reached for the lamp switch, his eyes landed on the words, HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY in fine bold lettering.
Suddenly he had this feeling in the back of his throat. The feeling of vomit making its way to the forefront of his mouth.
No, not again.
Suddenly, he heard the familiar thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump of his heart pulsing in his chest. A shot of heat began rushing through his body, settling in his neck, contributing to the rosacea stinging his cheeks. Peter then closed his eyes and breathed in and out.
Inhale
Exhale
Inhale
Exhale
He continued breathing like this for a while, that is until he started hyperventilating. Now he was nauseous, hot, and lightheaded. The works.
He felt the nausea crawling slowly back up his throat. He tried swallowing it back down, but it was incredibly difficult, like his throat was closing up. It burned as it made its slow journey to his taste buds. Vomit, vomit stinging, forcing its way up Peter’s throat until he tips over the side of his bed and chucks out anything and everything he’d eaten in the past week.
Ugh
Peter slowly shuffled over the pile of puke and slid into his brown moccasin slippers. He decided to clean himself up before talking to his mother and made his way across the hall to the loo. The shaky ceiling light electrified the cool orange tile and cast grim shadows on Peter's face. Like most kids, Peter was paranoid that someone would pop out behind the shower curtain as he brushed his teeth and take him down the sewer drain.
I suppose there really will be at Hogwarts, ghosts or something.
His mouth burns from the stomach acid drawn up by the vomit as he brushes his teeth, only ceasing after he swishes cool water in his mouth.
“Hmm, might as well,” Peter says, spotting a comb. He begins to brush his blond hair away from his face. His mother had offered to trim it about two weeks ago, but Peter declined. He had wanted to see how long it could grow in four months. He was regretting that now though, as it was already reaching the top of his ears and would be down to his chin before December.
Clearing his throat, Peter makes his way to the stairwell. With each step he took, Peter became more and more anxious about asking his mother to clean up the mess.
He stands there, at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, longer than socially acceptable surely, but his mother will not acknowledge him until he speaks up. She stares defiantly down towards her copy of Where There’s a Wand, There’s a Way.
Be a man Peter, you wanna be in Gryffindor for heaven's sake!
You see Marjorie Pettigrew was a loving mother. She cooked her children roasts, took care of their ailments, knew what would make them smile on rainy days, and bought them sweets whenever possible, but she raised her children with the knowledge that the Pettigrew family would have to earn respect in the wizarding world. Why, with the number of squibs in the family, she wasn’t sure if her children would make it to Hogwarts at all. So they would have to put in work to raise their social rank.
“Umm, Mum, I threw up again,” he said slowly. “Can you come upstairs please?”
Finally, his mother turned to look at him, a tired look to her eyes. “Yes, yes I’ll come,” rubbing her eyes as she stood up.
Peter trailed up the stairs behind his mother. She smells like almonds. I’ll miss her, he thinks.
“Scourgify,” she said, making an S shape in the air. “Alright, goodnight Peter. Remember James has your wand. I didn’t want you forgetting it, and we are heading to Kings Cross at nine o'clock sharp. Be awake and ready by then, please. I love you.”
Then she promptly turned the lights out and left the room.
And once again, Peter was left to his own devices. He climbed into bed once more lying on his back. Peter always slept on his back. Sleeping on the side made him feel smothered like the blanket could swallow him up anytime it liked. So, as Peter stared at the dark ceiling, his thoughts drifted to Hogwarts yet again.
He wondered what house he would be in. James made it very clear that he wanted to be in Gryffindor and Peter had no doubt about that. He’s the most fearless boy Peter had ever known, and on top of that, he was infuriatingly charismatic. It had been a joke between the two boys that James could make friends with a brick wall. Anyone that knew him knew Gryffindor was exactly where he’d end up, but Peter wasn’t so sure about himself.
Peter never thought of himself as someone particularly brave or determined, he could never be sure of himself like James. His mother had been a Slytherin and his sister, Philomena, a Hufflepuff. His father had been a squib and passed when Peter was four. No one talks about him much.
Philomena was a whole other story. She was seven years older than Peter, freshly graduated, and had already run off with a muggle boy. His mum had been livid when she found out.
“Do you understand what this will do to us?” His mother screamed.
“Yes, of course–”
“Of course you do! You’re just too selfish to care then? Is that what I’m hearing?” Marjorie interrupted.
Yeesh Peter thought.
Anyway, now everything was contingent on Peter being successful. That was fine with Peter so long as he could stay friends with James. He wanted desperately to be in Gryffindor with James, the two of them against the world. They could study in the common room and share a dorm.
It will be fun.
Tomorrow he would make sure to meet James at the station early and get a seat right next to him.
