I DON'T BELONG HERE
Summary: Petter Pettigrew: Stupid boy, foolish boy, coward, hero-worshipper, and rat. Except there is always so much more. A look into Peter's life, because fanfic authors are quite like Vonnegut's Tralfamadorians - we see in four dimensions.
disclaimer: as per usual I own nothing. surprise!
Come as you are
As you were
As I want you to be
As a friend, as a friend
As an old enemy
-Nirvana, "Come As You Are"
They are assembled in a hallway; it's dark because it's after curfew and they really aren't allowed to be out. And yet there they are anyway, Marauders doing their thing. Peter loves the rush of being with his friends, being included in the pranks, having a job to do.
"Peter," Sirius says. "Make sure no one is gonna interrupt us."
"Aye, Cap'n!" he says with a grin. Feeling silly, feeling fun, Peter's hand goes stiffly up to his forehead and back out quickly and a little sloppily. For a minute it's hard to tell what he's done. His friends give him a set of weird looks.
"Did he just salute you, Padfoot?" James asks, laughing, and Sirius responds by straightening himself an trying to look as authoritarian as possible. He also has a habit of looking more than a bit smug, and it has seemed to magnify.
"Don't let it go to your head," Remus contributes, rolling his eyes at their antics. Ah, Remus, their quiet and inconsistent voice of reason. Well, at least he tried to be. But none of them were perfect, were they?
James' parents are away and they are drunk. Peter has convinced his mum to let him go, even though she's always really clingy. Which he gets...sort of. Peter doesn't know where James and Remus are off to - but then he seems them zip past the window. He's pretty sure they are naked and jumping into the pond there, which will terrify all the neighbors, he is sure. It is only a few weeks after the end of term, Sirius has only just run away. Sirius is very drunk.
"Prongs thinks he's so cool. You know, with his...antlers? and hooves and shit." Sirius is rambling, making strange gestures with his hands. Peter laughs, his face scrunching up.
"I think his antlers are pretty cool, man," he says, thinking they are cooler than a rat's tail, which is all he has.
"Fuck you, Pettigrew," Sirius replies, and Peter can't tell if he's angry or just dicking around. He hopes he is just dicking around. "Being a dog is...a hundred thousand times cooler than being a stupid deer."
"Err...well, if you think so," Peter slurs, rolling his eyes and laughing again. Sirius and glaring at him, and mumbles shut up but it only makes Peter laugh harder. That's when Sirius leans over and shoves him. Peter loses his balance, the alcohol you know, and lands on his ass on the floor. He's still laughing. Remus runs through the kitchen, where they are, at that moment, naked as the day he was born, cackling. Which is kind of scary. As soon as he's there, he's gone. Sirius looks to the spot where Moony stood, to Peter, to the spot, and then to Peter again. He cracks a smile and laughs too.
Sirius gets his own flat and Pete is torn between jealous and awe. He wishes he had his own place, one where his mum can't constantly hover over him and smother him. He is always trying to figure out how to get out of the house. So when it is announced that Sirius' new flat is "open for business," to Pete, it is like Christmas in July. Unfortunately he's also directionally challenged, he could get lost walking home from his own grandparents' house in the dark (that did actually happen one time...), a place he's been a thousand times, so it's inevitable that he gets lost and ends up knocking on the wrong door. Somehow he has mixed up 16 and 19 or something and is now being faced by an angry old lady shouting at him and whacking him with her purse. Real lovely and just his luck! After stammering out a few unintelligible words, he promptly turns and sprints in the right direction to knock frantically at the correct door.
"Open up man, i'm about to be decapitated by someone's lunatic grandma!" he shouts, watching as the woman bumbles down the hallway shouting obscenities at him. Well, wasn't she just a sweet old lady on the outside and a sailor on the inside? Pete hopes his grandmother doesn't curse like that when he isn't around. That would just be...strange. Pete gets tired of waiting as the menacing, heavy purse that he is pretty sure could possibly give him a concussion, swung ever closer. He jiggles the door handle and thanks ever deity he's ever heard of when he realises Sirius hasn't locked his door in the first place and quickly ducks inside to see Remus shrugging off his jacket inside.
"Oh, uh, hey," he says in greeting, heart thumping a million miles a minute and basically confirming that Peter Pettigrew had just been scared of someone so old they had probably keeled over before they reached the door; so badass, right? "You've got some barmy neighbors, Sirius,"
Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs, a barking sound.
"Don't bad mouth Mrs. Cunningham like that, she makes me muffins and gives me the best shortbread biscuits ever," he says sternly, and Pete gapes like a fish. He doesn't think an angry and very scary old lady chasing him down the hall with her massive purse (probably filled with rocks and bowling balls and shit) was a very funny affair. Try traumatising. His friends, however, seemed to think otherwise. What a bunch of dicks. They wouldn't be laughing so hard if it were them being chased, now would they? Angry grandmothers are not a fucking laughing matter, you know? He secretly wishes a pox upon them all. Or at least that one of them will get to fuck up to his amusement every now and then instead of the other way around, which was the way life seemed to work most of the time. The trials and tribulations of being Peter Pettigrew - maybe one day he'll write a novel about it.
"She makes you muffins?" he asks, skeptical. "Sure she hasn't been lacing those with arsenic or something, mate?"
"Yes she makes me muffins!" Sirius snaps back, grinning. "She says I'm just as charming as ever. I trust her with her muffins. She could probably smell you down the hall, Pete, just like I can. Did you too get an odd wiff of cheese and dead flowers, Moony?"
"Clearly she's gone off the deep end if she finds you charming, Padfoot," Pete jokes. "Har har, you're so witty. Would you like a medal?"
He knows he is easy picking, the butt of his friends' jokes. Well, mostly Sirius' jokes, because that what their relationship was like. But he could joke too! Pete speaks that language just as well as they do, even if people don't always expect him to be funny. Sirius just...he's always saying shit about how it is his job to mess with Pete. And, after all, Sirius is the one with the actual brother (okay, so it's Regulus, but still), so he probably knows better than Pete how that stuff works. As if he ever had friends growing up, so Pete doesn't know any better and is grateful for what he has. He laughs then, because Sirius states that yes, in fact, he does want a medal, so get crackin'. Pete rolls his eyes - Sirius would.
"Oh yeah, hold on, just let me pull out of my back pocket," he deadpans, reaching around as if he were actually about to do just that, but when his hand comes back around, he promptly flips his friend two very rude fingers, accompanied by a self-satisfied grin.
See? Two could play this game.