This is my first fanfiction. If anyone wants to help me, be a beta reader, etc... that would be LOVELY. Chronicles of Narnia (movies and books) do not belong to me. Read and Review. Any suggestions are welcome.

Professor Henry Radford was willing to admit that he wasn't very close to the Pevensie boys, but he could see a change in the brothers the moment the eldest walked into his classroom. Last year, the boy would enter with a posture and expression that clearly sent a message saying, "Don't talk to me – Don't speak to me." He would slam his textbook on the desk and sit down with a surly "humph". But this time, he sauntered in with a look of content the professor had only witnessed a few times in his life, and never on someone of Peter's age. The professor was at a loss for words; he could barely manage a "Good summer Pevensie?" and was even more flabbergasted when his student brightly replied "Superb! And you?" Radford only nodded and sat at his desk while the rest of his class slowly filtered in.

The professor hadn't ever had the younger Pevensie in his class, but the had heard talk about Edmund from other instructors. They said he had been downright unpleasant in years past, but last term they had noticed a profound shift in the black haired adolescent. He was no longer a sniveling brat, but a courteous, thoughtful young man. Radford half-expected, however, that Edmund would be a mixture of Peter three months ago and an arrogant bookworm. What he got was a boy with deep thoughts, who was clever, and rarely spoke, not because he deemed himself more important than others, but because he was pondering an abstract theory or imagining distant lands. Edmund received top marks in his class and possessed the uncanny ability to find more than words in his textbook or notes in a lecture. He seemed to grasp the truths of history, the people and emotions, rather than names and dates. Radford was certain: Edmund Pevensie was wise beyond his years.

The two brothers were closer than any boys he had seen before. They were clearly protective of each other and shared an unearthly amount of mutual respect for their sibling. Each boy listened patiently to the other, a highly unusual behavior for boys their age. Peter would help Edmund with math, and Edmund was able to explain economics of fifteenth-century Baghdad or the incidents leading up to the Spanish Inquisition. Professor Radford couldn't explain it, but it seemed as if the Pevensie brothers had struck a stunning equilibrium that was plausibly unstoppable. Edmund could not fully be Edmund unless the reassurance of Peter's presence was at his side. Peter consulted his younger brother before anyone else. The dynamics were apparent and astonishing; Edmund was Peter's right hand man, and Peter was the gentle, courageous liege.

Radford wasn't sure what the other students felt toward the Pevensie brothers, but he guessed that the boys were met with mixed emotions. He knew peter used to be immensely popular here at Finchley, but since he began fighting, many began drifting away from the blonde. Edmund had a few friends, but due to his reserved nature, the boy tended to avoid large groups of people. He seemed as if he had witnessed events no thirteen year old should see, yet exuded an almost intimidating amount of confidence. Radford could understand why the other boys didn't often socialize with the Pevensies. The brothers, therefore, spent the majority of their spare time together. They ate lunch and dinner together, read silently in the library together, and even arranged to be dorm mates despite their age difference. Radford was constantly amazed at the remarkable relationship between the inseparable brothers.

Both boys were involved in athletics, and their stamina was impressive to say the least. Peter was on the tract team and could run for hours at a time when given the chance. The adolescent never faltered, never once complained, and never appeared to be putting forth less than his best effort. Once or twice, Radford could have sworn Pevensie ran with his eyes closed. The younger brother, who was a member of the fencing team, was no less impressive than his older brother. The thirteen year old was more agile than many adults Radford knew and often reminded the professor of a nimble exotic cat. The boy did possess some feline qualities – he always landed on his feet. Edmund seemed to know where his opponent's foil would be, before any movement was made. His intuitiveness mirrored his keen observations in the classroom, and Radford couldn't help but wonder where the boy attained this ingenuity. To an outside observer, the brothers were the epitome of the perfect sons.

About a month into the new term, Professor Radford was preparing for his next class when an unusually haggard and tired looking Peter staggered through the doorway. Radford was shocked; he hadn't seen the boy in this condition since his fighting spree last term. The professor truly took interest in his students' well being, so it wasn't uncharacteristic for him to ask, "Is everything alright Pevensie? You aren't getting into fights anymore, are you?" Peter turned to his teacher and said, "No, I'm fine." Radford noticed that the boy's eyes, which were usually a bright blue, were now bloodshot and watery. These conditions were usually indicators of inebriation or recent crying. Since it was extremely unlikely that Peter was a drinker, the professor assumed it must have been the latter. It was almost disturbing to see Pevensie, of all people, in such a state. It must be his brother, Radford realized. He's the only person who could cause Peter to cry. The boys were so connected, only an emergency with their other half could make them so upset.

When the class Edmund was usually in began, Professor Radford looked around his classroom, skimming the thirty-or-so faces for the black-haired enigma. When he didn't find the younger Pevensie, he was instantly worried for the boy. "Where's Pevensie?" he asked the class. A small, wiry red head raised his hand and hesitantly said "Um… Professor? Edmund is in the infirmary." Radford glanced at the boy, whose name was Charlie Williams and happened to be one of Edmund's few friends. The professor said, "Why, is the boy ill?" Charlie answered, "Sort of. Apparently his brother woke up in the middle of the night, and found Edmund screaming in his sleep. Peter was terrified, so he brought Edmund to the nurse. I'm not sure of the details, but I think some sort of professional is observing him." Radford tried not to let his concern show as he said to his students, "Well, thank you Williams. Now class, turn to page three hundred and ninety-four: Medieval superstitions." Throughout the entirety of the day, the professor wrestled with the thought that there might be something psychologically wrong with the younger Pevensie. And if it's enough to make Peter cry, he mused, 'there something is very wrong indeed.

Well, that's it. Please review. LOVE YA.

ps. if you find the harry potter reference, you are awesome.

Well... That