Mrs Pettigrew really was an excellent cook. She cooked delicious meals and desserts that left the lucky consumers craving more. She would often cook enough for seconds, or even thirds because her children would beg for more.

Sometimes when she would cook she would feel a wave of nostalgia. She would remember when her children used to be at home all the time. Her youngest son would eat everything and more. Her older daughter ate politely, always making sure to eat healthy amounts but never following it.

Mrs Pettigrew only had her husband for company, who worked at the Ministry six days a week. This ended in her missing her children horribly. Especially now her son had started at Hogwarts, the house was empty, even empty of cooking wafts.

When Clara and Peter got off the train she promised them a lovely roast with her special trifle as dessert. Peter responded enthusiastically, by bouncing on the balls of his feet and flashing her a radiant smile.

For the way back home Peter spoke happily of Hogwarts and his friends. His mother smiled and responded eagerly while his father nodded occasionally. Clara, always having a very close relationship with her brother, just laughed affectionately at the crazy antics his friends got up to.

"I take it you didn't like the giant squid then?" She laughed.

"Sirius hated it," Peter smiled at the memory. "James was just annoyed that we'd even considered giving it his birthday cake."

They all laughed at the comic acts of James Potter.

"By the way Peter," His mother spoke. "What do you want to do for your birthday? It's in less than two weeks."

"Can I have my friends round?" Peter asked, eyes shining.

"Of course! Should I cook?" She smiled.

"Yes! Sirius loved your cake!" Peter exclaimed, mouth watering at his mother's beautiful cooking.

When they arrived back home, a modest house on the outskirts of north London, Peter raced through the door. Clara pulled her heavy trunk through the door with a huff.

"Why so heavy?" Peter asked.

"I'm borrowing books from friends to study from." Clara responded while setting her heavy trunk next to the stairs.

"Why? It's summer!"

"I've got my NEWTs next year."

Peter rolled his eyes and went into the small kitchen filled with pots and pans. His mouth watered as he took in the delicious smells. A couple of hands rested on his shoulders.

"You still like roast, right?" His mother said.

"At Hogwarts it was amazing, but yours is way better." Peter imagined eating potatoes soaked in gravy.

His mother chuckled and set to work finishing their dinner. Peter dragged his trunk upstairs to unpack (or, as some might put it, procrastinate). Next door he could hear Clara drop a couple of rather heavy books and curse loudly. He walked into her room.

"What are you doing?"

Clara was sitting in the middle of a circle of books all piled up in stacks. Thought suddenly entered Peter's head that she was summoning Satan. The thought made him grin.

"I'm sorting out all my books." She said simply, as if this was a common occurrence.


"Because it means my studying is more organised."

"God, you're so boring now." Peter muttered.

"Maybe you could grow up a little." She replied in a serious tone, but a smile tugged at her lips.

"DINNER!" Came a shout from downstairs.

Peter fought the urge to whoop as he jumped down the last few stairs and almost twisted his ankle with little gracefulness. Clara laughed at him and he shoved her halfheartedly.

Sitting down and looking at all the food around him, Peter only just realised how hungry he was. His mother spooned him generous helpings of everything with a knowing smile until his plate was piled up high.

Peter ate quickly, savouring each flavour with happiness. They all laughed when he choked slightly on a carrot.

"Slow down son." His father grinned.

Peter smiled and kept on eating.

Soon enough, the numerous plates on the enlarged table became empty, only with sauces or crumbs left on them. Peter laughed at a thought that came to him.

"What are you laughing at?" His mother asked.

"Just how we eat so much!" He laughed. "No wonder we're a bit of a fat family!"

"Well, I guess we are a bit on the chubby side." His father chuckled.

Clara suddenly pushed her plate away.

"Mum, I'm really full." She said in a constricted voice.

"But you didn't finish your meat!" Her mother exclaimed, astounded. "And that was your only plate!"

"I'm just full, maybe it was something I ate on the train."

"You do look rather ill, now that you mention it." Her father commented.

"I'm going to go upstairs, maybe have an early night." She said, getting up.

"I'll save you some dessert for tomorrow?" Her mother asked.

"No, it's ok, I think I'll be too tired." Clara's voice disappeared as she walked up the stairs.

Peter watched her depart up the stairs then turned away and spooned himself a bowlful of trifle.

James walked through the front door of his manor and yawned. Thing appeared before him.

"Hello master James," He said, bowing down. "Thing has just changed your bedsheets, would master James like to have a nap?"

"Yeah." James managed through another yawn.

He climbed up the many stairs to his huge bedroom. James yawned one last time and collapsed on his bed.

Wrapped in his soft duvet and the familiar smell of home, James woke up to birds singing outside his window. He groaned because, to him, birds were merely an inconvenience. Turning over, the sunlight streamed through his window, blinding him momentarily. Groaning once more, James buried his head in his duvet.

James debated whether he should stay in bed or get out. He eventually settled on getting out because his stomach was rumbling loudly. Looking over at his clock, he gasped. He'd only been asleep for an hour, meaning that now it was dinner time.

James tried to walk but collapsed pathetically.

"I must've napped hard." He muttered.

Slowly making his way done the stairs, he saw his parents in the dining room.

"What's for dinner?" He asked, slurring his words slightly out of tiredness.

"Don't you mean breakfast?" His father said.


They both laughed and James began to get quite annoyed. This wasn't exactly his ideal way to wake up from a nap.

"You got back from school yesterday." His mother smiled.

It took James a minute to run her comment through his not yet functioning mind. His mouth gaped open and his parents laughed again.

James scowled at them and asked Thing to bring him some food.

"Certainly master James." He said, bowing.

James ate hungrily while his parents asked him about the Quidditch tryouts.

"So James, did you make the team?" His father asked.

"Well... you see... I kind of... didn't." He said sheepishly.

"Why? You love Quidditch!"

"Some stupid first year was errr, being stupid with his broomstick and McGonagall banned first years from having brooms." James said, guiltily looking down at his food to hide the heat in his cheeks.

"Well, I hope that first year feels guilty," his mother said, slightly annoyed. "They made everyone lose out on something because of their own foolish actions."

"Yeah... guilty... foolish." James muttered quietly, his cheeks going a dark shade of red.

James finished his meal quickly and made a fast exit, with guilt creeping up his neck. Climbing up the stairs, he decided to write to Sirius and ask him if he could come over.

Hi Sirius!

When I got home I had a nap because I was so exhausted. When I woke up I thought I'd only been sleeping for an hour, but it turns out that I slept an ENTIRE DAY!

How are you? I bet you miss me already! I would miss me. Does Peter's family have an owl? Does Remus? Send me a reply and tell me how you are. I doubt this will take long to reach you.

Your bestest most amazing friend who everyone wants to be,


James rolled up the parchment and attached it to Owl, telling her to take it to Sirius. He then got out some more parchment and began to write another letter.

Hi Remus,

When I got home I slept for so long because I was so tired. I've just owled Sirius but I'll ask you as well. Do you know if Peter's family has an owl? If they do then use this owl to sent him a letter.

What's it like being back at home? It feels so weird because everything is so empty. How is your mum? I hope she's feeling better, them you won't have to keep visiting her. You always look awful when you come back.


P.s I've attached another letter for Peter that you can send him

P.p.s tell him to send Franklin back with a reply and use his own owl to send me letters.

P.p.p.s Franklin is not mine, he's my dad's. (I would give him a better name) Dad doesn't actually know that I'm borrowing him, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

James looked down at his hands in despair. His handwriting was a lot worse know that he wasn't at school, he hoped Remus could read it. Hand aching, he dipped his quill in ink and wrote another letter.

Hi Peter,

Sorry this letter will be a bit short but I've just written a letter to Remus and one to Sirius.

Have you unpacked yet? I haven't because I've been asleep since I got back, I think it was us staying up late. I'm pretty sure that in a minute my mum is going to start yelling at me because I haven't unpacked yet. *Imitates Remus rolling his eyes*

When you get this you'll get it with Franklin, my dad's owl and maybe even a letter from Remus. Hopefully he'll explain everything because my hand hurts and I don't want to write anything else.


Taking both the letters, James took Franklin from his father's study and attached them.

A/N guys, I realised I fucked up and I forgot to put this chapter in I'm so sorry

the name Franklin was taken from my friend's plant (She names all her plants)