CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Conversation and Contemplation
Peter Pettigrew stirred his cornflakes early one morning at the breakfast table of his house in London. It was not even nine o’clock, but already he could feel the sweltering summer heat, and it was putting him in a bad mood. He wished he could be back at Hogwarts, but September still seemed ages away.
He scooped up a bite of cereal and raised it to his mouth only to drop it back in the bowl as he realized the flakes had gone soggy. There was nothing worse than soggy cereal.
His father sat across the table from Peter, reading the Daily Prophet. Though Peter’s stepmother, Frances, frowned upon the wizard newspaper, Douglas Pettigrew never went a day without it. Granted, Frances was out of the house right now, so Douglas could read it in peace, and Peter had no doubt that he would stash the Prophet away as soon as Frances returned from the store.
Suddenly, Peter was struck with a strange sense of melancholy. “What was Mum like?” he blurted out.
“What?” Douglas responded, nearly choking on his coffee.
“I don’t remember her very much at all, or Elaine. What were they like?” Peter did not take his eyes off the table where he was still trailing his spoon through his soggy gloop.
For a long moment, Douglas didn’t speak, and Peter thought that maybe his father hadn’t heard right, or if he had, he was choosing to ignore the question.
But after a little while, Douglas set down the paper and looked at Peter. No, not at him. Through him. “They were angels. Both of them. Your mother was the kindest, most generous woman on the planet. She was just incredibly special. And Elaine was the most darling little girl. She had this curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. And she was so smart. She knew how to stand up for herself, even so young...” Douglas trailed off, and Peter noticed that his eyes seemed a bit misty. Douglas dropped his eyes to the table, then looked up again at Peter. “You really don’t remember them?”
“Not very well,” Peter responded, shaking his head. He didn’t know why, but he felt very guilty at that moment. “I mean, I was only three when Mum died.”
“True,” Douglas said pensively.
A sticky silence lingered in the air, and Peter didn’t know if the conversation was over. He had another question that he was just dying to ask, but after seeing his father bear his soul so openly, he wasn’t sure if the timing was right. But maybe a bit of Sirius and James’s impulsiveness had worn off on him, for he opened his mouth again, just as Douglas was turning back to the Prophet.
“How did she die?”
“Sorry?” Douglas asked, this time definitely pretending he hadn’t heard.
“How did Mum die?”
“In a car crash, Pete, you know that.” Douglas shifted a bit in his chair and Peter noticed a definite shift in his manner, too.
This was the standard answer Peter had always gotten, and he had always swallowed it. Until today. “Yeah, but why was Mum driving a car? She didn’t know how to drive, did she?”
“Why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?” Douglas asked, laughing nervously. Peter could have sworn that his father’s eyes darted to the stack of mail on the table, but as he looked at the stack of mail, he had no idea why.
“It’s just always bothered me, why she was driving if she was a witch,” he said, glancing back at his father.
“Well... I, uh... I think... I think plenty of witches drive,” Douglas stammered, again looking at the stack of mail.
“Dad, why do you keep looking at the stack of mail?” Peter scooted forward in his chair, furrowing his brows and straining to see the contents of the letters.
“No reason,” Douglas said, taking the top envelope and trying nonchalantly to stuff it under some others.
“What is that?” Peter asked, leaning across the table and grabbing the envelope from out of his father’s hand. He read the return address label out loud: “‘The Society of Pureblood Sorcerers’? You’re in that?” Peter put the letter down and stared at his father in disbelief. From everything Sirius and James had said about this Society, it didn’t sound like a very good thing at all. And yet, there was a part of him that was so proud that his father, Douglas Pettigrew, was good enough to be in the Society... But he shook that thought from his mind and focused back on his father.
“Yes,” Douglas responded, then quickly backtracked. “I mean, no. I was. I mean, when we”when I worked for Abraxas Malfoy, he made us join. I don’t think I’m a member anymore”I certainly haven’t paid dues in a few years. But I still get the newsletters. Secretarial error, I suppose,” he said, trailing off weakly.
He made a move to change the conversation, but Peter wasn’t satisfied. He broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out the newsletter, glancing over the front page. “Hey, here he is!” Peter exclaimed, reading again: “‘Abraxas Malfoy named President of the Society of Pureblood Sorcerers.’ Man, he sure is an ugly bloke. Look at that scar.”
Douglas laughed nervously, and made to snatch the letter back from Peter’s hands.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Peter said, instinctively pulling the letter farther away from his father.
“Nothing. Don’t look at that anymore, Peter. Let’s put it away. Throw it away” Douglas stood up and moved around the table to where his son was sitting.
Suddenly, Peter had a revelation. Not being accustomed to brain waves, he was thoroughly shocked by the idea that struck him. He whipped around to his father standing behind him and focused his most intense glare on Douglas’s face. “Does Abraxas Malfoy have something to do with Mum’s death?”
Douglas let out an unnaturally high-pitched laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, averting his eyes.
“Dad, tell me!” Peter stood up, knocking over his chair in the process. And though he had only just turned thirteen, he was almost as tall as his father.
“Not now, Peter,” Douglas said, taking a step backward. “I’ve got to go to work. Just let this rest.”
“Tell me!” Peter said, taking a step forward.
“No, Peter. Just stop, please.” Douglas was being backed into a wall, and he was looking more and more uncomfortable with each second’s passing.
“Dad, I deserve to know!” Peter knew his face was getting red, and he was almost shaking out of... anger? Nervousness? He wasn’t sure what. He tightened his grip on the letter and waved it in his father’s face. “What is this all about? I deserve to know!”
Douglas finally lost his cool. “Well, you wouldn’t understand, damn it!” he exclaimed, balling his hands into fists, then slamming them down into the wall behind him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“Did Abraxas Malfoy kill my mother?” Peter asked, taking yet another step toward his father, unsure of where this sudden boldness had come from.
“No! Absolutely not.” This time, it was Douglas who looked angry.
“Then what happened?”
By now there was nowhere Douglas could go. Peter had him cornered, both literally and figuratively, and he wasn’t backing down. Another long silence passed, and Peter felt his shoulders tense up even more.
And then, just as Douglas was about to open his mouth, they both heard the door open and Frances’s voice wafted in from the foyer. Peter quickly stepped back from his father, fully aware that Frances was not one to cross, and would most certainly not approve of this conversation.
“My, I heard some commotion from outside,” she said as she walked into the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”
“It’s just fine, darling,” Douglas said, calmly walking from the corner to his wife and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Can I help you with the groceries?”
She smiled at him and said, “Certainly, but you’d better hurry, or you’ll be late for work.”
“Yes, dear,” he responded, beginning to unpack the bags.
“And how are you this morning, Peter?” Frances asked turning to her stepson.
Peter could find no words. All the anger of the previous fifteen minutes had nowhere near expired, and he had no idea what to do except get out of the kitchen, and fast. He muttered a quick, “Fine,” then dashed up the stairs to his room, slamming the door for good measure.
As soon as he sat down at his desk, he withdrew three small pieces of parchment from his desk, and dashed off three identical notes:
We need to meet soon. Ideas?
--Peter
He prayed that Sirius, Remus, and James would answer quickly.
***
“Pete, you never told us that your mum died,” Remus said as the boys gathered in his room at Number Ten, Grimmauld Place. They had agreed that Remus’s house was the best spot for the meeting: not only was it two doors down from Sirius’s house, but Rhea Lupin was always good for a batch of homemade cookies.
Peter just shrugged at Remus’s words. “There never was a good time to announce it or anything. If it had come up in conversation, I would have told you, and I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”
Remus shook his head. “No, don’t apologize. We should be the ones apologizing. I can’t believe we got through two years of school without knowing that.”
Peter merely shrugged again. “Anyway, that’s not the important part. The important part is what Abraxas Malfoy had to do with it.”
This time, it was James who shook his head. “I wouldn’t put anything past that man, Pete,” he said, staring angrily at the floor. “He is so... slimy. There’s no other word for it.”
“I can think of a few,” Sirius growled from next to James.
“OK, yes, the Malfoys are perhaps not the world’s nicest people, but do you really think they killed Peter’s mother?” Remus asked.
“Well...” James started, perhaps not willing to make such a bold accusation.
“The way my dad said ‘no’ to that question makes me think that maybe Abraxas didn’t actually kill her. But he had to be involved with her death somehow. I’ve never seen Dad look so nervous. And he’s a very, very nervous man!”
None of the boys said anything for a while. Peter just pulled idly at a section of carpet while the other three stared into space. “Look,” he said, lifting his head to his friends. “Let’s just drop it. We’re not going to solve any mysteries today, right?”
“Well,” Sirius said as he took a bite of chocolate chip cookie, “maybe the mystery of what makes these cookies so delicious.” He winked at Peter, who smiled back at him.
“Just know, Peter, that if you ever want to talk to any of us about anything, we’re here, OK?” Remus asked, laying a reassuring hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter nodded. There was a moment’s pause before Remus continued: “So let’s get down to the other business of the day. How is everyone’s research coming along?”
James and Sirius both shifted uneasily and Peter blushed, looking again at the ground. Remus didn’t seem to notice this as he was pulling a big stack of parchment and some heavy-looking books out from under his bed. “Guys?” he said, finally registering the looks of shame on his friends’ faces.
“Umm... I haven’t actually started my research yet,” James said sheepishly.
“Yeah, mate, me neither,” Sirius added. “Been real busy with... stuff.”
“But it looks like you’ve been busy!” Peter exclaimed, pointing at Remus’s papers.
“Well, my dad had to go into Diagon Alley the other day, so he dropped me off at the Wizard’s Library on Scholastic Alley. There’s some really good stuff in there. Of course,” he added pointedly, “I’m not the one who is trying to become an Animagus, so I think all this research is pretty useless.”
James shook his head and sighed. “No, it’s not useless. We’re useless. We’re the ones who should have done all this work.”
“Yeah, but Remus likes it, so let’s just steal from him! That’s always been my policy,” Sirius said with a smile, reaching over to pick up some of the papers.
Remus laughed. “He’s right. It was actually really fascinating. But it’s going to be incredibly hard, so you guys should get to work right away.”
“But we’ll still have it mastered by October, don’t you think?” Sirius asked, inspecting a complicated-looking diagram.
Remus laughed again. “Maybe with a miracle or five, you could be done by next October. But even that’s pushing it. It looks like the most complicated magic ever devised, and with schoolwork and everything...”
“Hey, mate,” Sirius said, looking up from the chart. “We made a vow. And Sirius Black does not break vows. We will conquer this stuff, I promise. We just might have to... cut back on homework time or something. Not too bad, in my opinion.” He shrugged.
James smiled, though he shot Remus a worried look. “Yeah, good plan, Sirius. We’ll do it.”
Peter looked overwhelmed as he flipped through the pages of a book. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he said.
“Well, you might want to start by holding the book right-side-up,” Sirius suggested, turning the book around in Peter’s hands.
“Oh, right,” he said with a sheepish laugh.
Remus surveyed the scene, getting great pleasure from watching his three friends look at some incredibly complicated magical instructions, the looks of bafflement barely concealed on their faces. “Boys, it’s going to be an interesting year.”
***
“Are you excited for Hogsmeade Weekends?” Gwendolyn asked Lily. The girls were sitting at the breakfast table at Gwendolyn’s house, and had received their Hogwarts letters that very morning, along with a permission slip for visiting the village of Hogsmeade.
Lily smiled and nodded, buttering a slice of toast. “I’ve never been. Have you?”
“Yeah, Mum likes to do Christmas shopping there every once in a while, and I went with her a few times. It’s pretty neat.”
“What is there to do?”
“Oh, a whole bunch. There’s a pretty good joke shop”the boys will enjoy that. And the post office is cool, the sweet shop is delicious... Oh, and there’s always Madame Puddifoot’s,” Gwendolyn said with a grin.
“What’s that?” Lily asked.
“It’s a really fruity little tea shop. Couples go there all the time. Around Valentine’s Day they really decorate it. Chadwick says it’s really silly, but will probably make for some interesting gossip, don’t you think?” Gwendolyn’s grin was borderline mischievous now.
Lily’s stomach had done a little flip at the mention of Chadwick’s name, but she hoped Gwendolyn hadn’t noticed her look of excitement”though she found it hard to believe that Gwendolyn couldn’t hear her suddenly pounding heartbeats in the quiet kitchen. Lily thought the teashop sounded a little silly, but as the man himself walked in the room, she found herself wishing she could pay a little visit to Madame Puddifoot right that moment.
“Morning, Gwendolyn,” Chadwick said, ruffling his sister’s hair. “How’s it going, Lil?” he asked, giving her a little nod.
Her stomach did some more acrobatics. She was practically squirming with glee at his use of the nickname, and even better: Gwendolyn hadn’t seemed to notice. Of course, Gwendolyn probably had a bit of a suspicion of Lily’s crush as Lily had a tendency to blush as red as her hair whenever Chadwick walked in the room. She couldn’t help it, though. Every time she thought of his tousled light brown hair and soft blue eyes... She shook her head, hoping that her jaw had not been hanging open. Again.
“Why are you two talking about Madame Puddifoot’s?” Chadwick asked as he poured himself some juice, his eyebrows raised playfully. “Got your eye on someone, Lily?”
Lily choked on her toast. She wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen, but her face was definitely turning red.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, taking a sip. “Who is it, Gwendolyn? Oh wait, I bet I know: James Potter. Am I wrong?”
Now it was Gwendolyn’s turn to choke. “If it is James, then that’s news to me. Although not a bad idea, I might say....” She, too, smiled playfully at Lily.
Lily was now thoroughly mortified, and the toast had finally made its way down the right pipe. “James?” she exclaimed. “James Potter? No. No, absolutely not.”
“Oh, come on!” Chadwick said. “He’s bloody good at Quidditch, you know.”
“That’s very true,” Gwendolyn said pensively, drumming her fingers on her chin.
“Well, maybe you should date him!” Lily said to her best friend, desperately wanting to change the subject.
Gwendolyn and Chadwick both laughed, and Chadwick opened his mouth to speak again, but Lily cut him off before he could. “So, I heard you made Prefect. Congratulations!”
Chadwick smiled and nodded. “Yep. Against all odds, right Gwen? I thought Mike was going to get it for sure.” Michael McKinnon was another rising fifth year Gryffindor, Chadwick’s best friend and fellow Quidditch star, and the brother of Lily and Gwendolyn’s friend Marlene. He also happened to be very attractive, Lily couldn’t help but note to herself.
“Nah, that job had your name written all over it. How else would I be able to plan incredible pranks with Sirius and James if I didn’t have a big brother to cover up for me?” Gwendolyn asked with a wicked grin.
She and Chadwick started into a discussion of pranks, but the mention of James’s name threw Lily deep into contemplation. She thought back to the earlier conversation: why had she been so against the idea of she and James as a couple? Well, he wasn’t her favorite of the boys; that was for sure. But was there anything especially wrong with him? He was a bit arrogant, sure, and sometimes kind of awkward. But he was pretty cute, and he was very good at Quidditch. But Sirius was even cuter and almost as good at Quidditch...
And why had Chadwick been so keen to set the two of them up? Lily felt herself become a bit melancholy as she realized that Chadwick probably had no interest in her. And why should he? He was a gorgeous fifth year with everything going for him, and she was nothing but his little sister’s little friend. Chadwick and Michael were the two best-looking Gryffindors, maybe even the two best-looking boys in all of Hogwarts. As Lily pondered this, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she should set her sights a little bit lower.
She remained silent as Chadwick gathered up the Daily Prophet and headed out of the room. As soon as he was out of earshot, Gwendolyn leaned in close to Lily. “OK, now that he’s gone, you can tell me: do you like James?”
Lily shook her head. “I really don’t, Gwendolyn.”
Gwendolyn looked a bit disappointed. “OK. But is there anyone else?”
“Umm... no, not really,” Lily lied. “Besides, don’t you think we’re too young to think about this seriously?”
Gwendolyn just snorted. “Speak for yourself, Lil.”
Lily laughed. “I don’t know... I just think that third year is going to be really, really hard with all the new classes. Maybe I shouldn’t think about boys so much.”
“Ah. Very wise of you, my friend,” Gwendolyn said, though it didn’t sound like she would be following Lily’s advice anytime soon. “And since you mentioned it, let’s take a look at that book list again.”
Lily smiled and pulled out her list again. But as she scanned the list, she couldn’t help but dwell on a few choice Gryffindors...
Of Cauldrons and Comrades by LuthAn
Chapter Notes: Hello, hello, dear readers! I bring you another installment in the Tale of the Young Marauders (and Lily). This will probably be the last chapter before the release of that little book we're all SO eagerly anticipating. If major revelations are made about the Marauders and/or Lily in Book 7, I'll probably have to alter the story a bit, but hopefully what I have planned for these guys isn't too far off what JKR has cooked up for them. I can't WAIT for Deathly Hallows! Thanks, as always, to lovely Nielawen for the beta. Enjoy the story and--more importantly--enjoy Book 7!