offtotheratraces

[offtotheratraces]

"Merlin, the shouting." Peter agreed, and It wasn't too often that Peter imagined himself in agreement with Rita Skeeter. In fact. he didn't reckon it had ever happened before this conversation. "Or the insistence on pointing out everything that is different about Hogwarts. It's pretty obvious that two schools in two completely different continents, might be tad different." Peter jested, with a shrug. At the prospect of a date, Peter nodded. "No date, what about yourself?"

she feels only slightly better but can't shake the feeling that something was crawling down her back - anxiety was a terrible friend to her. "no," she snaps back to the conversation, shaking her head. "they're awfully loud. can't seem to wrap my mind around the need to talk as if somebody is across the world when they're right in front of you." she adds with a sigh, wishing only slightly - but still some - that she was enjoying herself more. "come alone, pettigrew?" she asks curiously, looking around to see if anybody was willing to claim him as their date.

[offtotheratraces]

Perhaps it was ignorant for Peter to give Andromeda the benefit of the doubt, Sirius had always sang Andromeda's praises. But then Peter had to remember that Sirius was the great exception from a very bad bunch. Still though, he wasn't going to allow one rogue comment from Andromeda Black to shake him or ruin his evening.

"I don't disagree with you there-" Peter acknowledged with a shrug, in some ways Peter was still similar to the boy shaking on the side of the dance floor. He had bottled it in asking Mary to the Yule Ball just a few weeks back. At least the other lad was working up the courage to ask. "Did you arrive with a date? Or was the American dating pool a bit too brash for your silver spoon lifestyle."

Peter was not high on Andromeda's favorites list. Who he dated, who he stood with. Him and the other two had influence Sirius in ways that felt more destructive and constructive. But, he was a friend of Sirius. He had to have something worth conversing... Even if it was hard for Andromeda to tell. So, when he sat a few chairs down from her, she gave him at least a half of mind. Yet, she did not return his smile.

How mean. Granted, the boy wasn't helping her sensibilities. Poor boy was shaking at the idea of asking the girl he had been eye for the past hour. That didn't mean she wanted to speak so ill of him behind his back. "Peter, the fact that any of you four can get anyone to curious in a romantic sense makes me hopeful for that boy over there," Andromeda replied back in her usual lifeless, drab monotone. She knew very well she included Sirius in this. While Andromeda loved her cousin dearly, there was no denying the influence those boys had on him. "It's very unladylike for me to gamble anyways."

[offtotheratraces]

Peter waved off Penelope's gratefulness. "Are you having a good time?" He questioned, interested. Even though it was only the beginning of the night, usually those first few hours determined the path for the rest of your evening. Hand moving to run over the flower once more, "Thanks- I didn't think I was much of a flower fella, but thanks to you, turns out I am." Peter felt his cheeks burn at her next statement. "Do you think I'm missing something?"

"I suppose it does - it compliments black quite well. Completely unintentional of course." He nodded, a bashful smile on his face. "All right Borgin, you've twisted my arm." Outstretching his hand to the woman, "would you like to dance?"

The world around her in motion, the witch almost didn't notice Peter until he was clearly next to her. With the ball in full swing so many things could get lost yet there he was. "Thank you. That's very kind of you." Her brow was raised, smile ever present. The brunette could hardly be blamed for feeling rather curious about just what her fellow Gryffindor may need, yet allowed for the moment of small talk to flow naturally. "It suits you." Her eyes went scanning before she nodded in approval once more. "It does but something tells me something is missing. Else you wouldn't be here drawing attention to yourself."

A part of her could only hope it was about one of the more obvious things, the unspoken things. "It happens to be a color that compliments quite a few dresses, doesn't it?" Penelope elegantly placed her glass on the tray floating by as they passed. "You're not here for a dance, are you? Out with it!" The witch could only chuckle at his attempt. It was rather nice to see. Whatever he may need, for a friend she'd gladly help. - @offtotheratraces

[offtotheratraces]

Mary wasn't wrong, in the few conversations that Peter was pulled into with the international students, he wanted to flee instantly. He had been polite, but there would be more hope of getting a genuine laugh out of one of the tree-trunks in the Forbidden Forrest. Now though, that wasn't an issue, Mary was entertaining, a good conversation and funny. Whenever the ball was first announced, Peter had tried to garner up the courage to ask Mary as his date. There was a glimmer of something between them, Peter wasn't quite sure what. Peter fancied Mary, but he wasn't entirely sure those feelings were reciprocated. Running the risk of asking Mary to the ball, and ruining their friendship was far too dangerous in his opinion. "I don't believe any of our lot would qualify as a poster child for good behaviour." Peter quipped, taking the flask gratefully. "A bludger would at least knock you out -"

He swirled his glass slightly as he topped it up, mixing the punch with the alcohol. "No- surprisingly, I haven't graced the dance floor once tonight. Any dashing Americans caught your eye?"

In all honestly, there was nobody else here who would divert his attention or affection."Call me a romantic arsehole, but there's only really one person I'd like to dance with." A shrug. "So let's listen for a song you like and head on out, eh?" Peter smiled. Trying to resist taking a swig of his drink after such a sweeping statement.

It was hard trying to hold a conversation with any of the international students from Ilvermorny buzzing around... well, everywhere, without being asked to repeat herself for the millionth time. After a while Mary had excused herself on the pretense of getting a Professor-approved glass of glorified juice, a well practiced smile on her face as she passed by a potted plant in the back of the room she had noticed earlier; and ducked behind it, pulling out a hidden flask and tipping the contents of it into her drink. Too busy concentrating on the task at hand and less at the surroundings around her, Peter's voice had caught her by surprise and she jumped a little; deer in the headlights look, before a smile spread across her lips and she playfully whacked at his arm. "Well I'd never consider myself the poster child for good behaviour, would you? Besides, trying to hold a conversation with them lot is a lot harder than getting hit by a bludger," Mary snorted, holding the flask out to him in offer.

Taking a sip of her own drink, Mary blinked back the bite of the alcohol in her drink, trying to welcome the burn - maybe she had topped it up a little too much. But she shrugged and took another sip - feeling herself become shy around Peter Pettigrew, convincing herself she needed the liquid courage. "Danced with any pretty girls tonight, then? There's more than a lot, out there -" she pointed her chin towards the center of the dance-floor, a smile twisting on her lips. While she'd had the offer to dance by a few people, Mary had been hesitant on accepting, for a variety of reasons. "that I'm sure would loved to be asked. Merlin knows I overheard a lot of them complaining."

[offtotheratraces]

Peeking down at his leg as the seam of his trouser leg mends with the flick of Rita's wand. He was slightly relieved, this was his only suit. Peter rarely attended black tie events, so unless it suddenly didn’t fit or was started to look a bit tattered, there was no real reason to buy a new suit. “It’s alright, sure it’s all fixed now.” Peter shrugged, “Cheers for that.”

Turning his shoulder, Peter sighed with relief over the other lad retreating. “Fuck, I thought I’d never get away from that.” He placed his hands in his pockets, “something about the difference in our school systems. Boring shite to talk about at a party. Have you chatted to any of the ilvermony lot?”

it takes her a moment but rita finally gets it, watching as the fabric mends itself with delicacy and precision. "you'd freeze your arse off," rita argues but doesn't actually care too much. peter pettigrew was hardly somebody she felt the need to care about in any sense of the word. "there," she stands, proud of her work. "sorry about that." she mentions again, though satisfied. she stows her wand away, "what was he on about?" she asks towards the retreating guy, not having much interest in interacting with the americans. they were boring. well, most of them.

[offtotheratraces]

A small conversation with a ilvermony student over the differences in confectionary had slowly begun to dwindle away into nothing. A conversation that was filled with awkward silences and the need to introduce another topic. it was stunted, well aware that the other person could not understand his Scottish accent. Peter was just about to make a remark about the brightness of the candles when he felt a tear to the back of his trouser leg. Thank fuck for that, he couldn't help but think to himself.

Turning around to face the perpetrator, Peter shook his head, "It's fine..it's fine, maybe just a little bit breezy." A pathetic attempt at a joke. But a fashion mishap was much more entertaining than the bloke he was previously chatting to. "Maybe, it'd be better as a pair of shorts?"

where: yule ball

who: open @noxstarters

she's uneasy. she's unsure why - everything seems to be going fine enough. she's keeping to herself, as per usual, and just observing - but something feels off. rita tries to shake the feeling from her shoulders and attempts to slip through the crowd ( much larger than she'd anticipated it being ), a chill running down her spine as her bare shoulders rub against the silks and satins of the everyone's evening wear. she's not paying attention, and is trying to find some air so she can just breathe - when she hears the classic sound of fabric tearing. except it's not her own, and she stops to glance down and see she's stepped on the back of somebody's clothing. there's a fresh, long rip running up their leg and it's her fault, and the blonde tries not to get too overwhelmed from it all. "fucks sake," she sighs to her self, taking her high heel off the fabric and fishing around her dress for where she's stowed her wand to fix her error. "...sorry," she apologizes, knowing this time it really is her fault and she can't just blame it on somebody else. "really," she adds with sincerity. "wasn't watching where i was going." finally she fishes her wand out and attempts to wrack her brain for a charm that would fix the situation.

[offtotheratraces]

who : @cursvdblxdgrs

where : the dancefloor

As each hour passed, Peter's eyes fell to the golden clock. The mechanics of the metal hands were silenced by the beat of the music that flowed onto the dance floor. Too much time had passed and Peter still was to greet Mary, but the hall was so busy. Hogwarts was overly crowded on a good day, never mind an evening where Dumbledore thought it clever to amalgamate two jam-packed schools. Dumbledore had never been a wise man in Peter's eyes, he had always been an old man who talked complete shite. Yes, Peter had resorted to slagging off Dumbledore all because he hadn't said hello to Mary.

He was about to make his way to the back of the room when he caught a glimpse of Mary, sneakily trying to top up the fizzy wine in her glass from a hip flask. Peter's heart stopped at the sight of her, a pit of butterflies burrowing into the bottom of his stomach. It was ironic how in such a dark dress, Mary Macdonald could light up an entire a room. Before Peter knew it, his feet had carried him across the way. His hand placed on his shoulder as he pretended to confiscate the hip flask. "Alcohol at an academic event? tsk tsk, Mac. That sets an awful bad precedent for the Ilvermony crowd."

[offtotheratraces]

who : @hortusdea

where: the great hall

Peter didn't know much about fashion, he had a collection of around six jumpers, four shirts and four pairs of trousers. A collection that was typical swapped around as birthdays and Christmas approached, when the new would replace the old. Or if his trousers were getting too short around his ankles. For the yule ball, Peter sought to look nice but couldn't afford too much. So instead, Peter charmed his suit to become an emerald green colour, with a loose fitting white shirt underneath. But something had been missing, a flower on his lapel. A flower that he sought from his friend, Penelope. Penelope knew more about flowers than anyone, so who better was there to consult?

Catching a glimpse of Penelope walking across the ballroom. Peter cut across the crowd quite swiftly. "Whaddya' think? Does it match my eyes?" Taking his friend's arm swiftly. "Might I add that you're looking splendid, Miss Borgin."

[offtotheratraces]

who : @blackestrose

where: the great hall

Everything was beginning to get underway, the music had livened up a bit and a few students had begun to stagger on to the dance floor. A hip-flask disguised in his inner suit pocket, Peter made his way across the packed area to a free table. Where a young woman all too familiar to his best mate, Sirius sat. Andromeda Black, he didn't know much about her. However, given the rest of the Black family's reaction the Marauders, Peter didn't believe his company would be particularly welcomed. Nevertheless, Peter sat down two or three seats away from Andromeda.

His eyes focusing in on a boy who looked nervous at the side of the dance floor, glancing at a girl at the other side. A boyish smile, Peter leant over and tapped Andromeda on the arm. "How many sickles do you want to bet that he's going to bottle asking her to dance?" Gesturing towards the poor bloke.

[offtotheratraces]

who: @lvpvsnoctis

where: the entrance to the great hall

The Yule Ball was only beginning to kick off, Peter had left the Marauders house slightly earlier to get a few drinks in at the Hogs Head before heading to the main event. His suit was quite simple, charmed green for the evening purely to enjoy the festivities. Glancing around him, he felt severely underdressed as Ilvermony students arrived in suits with cascading diamonds and gowns with long trains that Peter was definitely going to trip over later in the evening.

Not seeking to walk in alone, and spend thirty minutes searching for a familiar face inside the busy great hall. Peter waited outside, leaning against a wall. Toying with a cigarette in between his thumb and index finger, Peter finally stood up straight upon the sight of Moony. Blowing a wolf-whistle as his mate passed, Peter grinned. "Merlin Moony, give the rest of us a chance, we can't all be as dashingly handsome as you."

[offtotheratraces]

🎄The Entertainment is Here🎄

🪩Peter Pettigrew Yule Ball Outfit🪩

[offtotheratraces]

Amused by Eavan's evident dismay at his costume, Peter smirked. It was always amusing to witness how the sheltered purebloods who picked their costumes from the same rolodex of Quidditch players, Old Warlocks, or Magical Creatures each year, opted to condescend those with muggle influence to their costume. "Sherlock Holmes, a muggle detective. He was known for wearing a trench coat and this little -" lifting the hat off of his head, "hat. If you've ever been to Bakerloo Station in London, you would know all about him. He's from a muggle novel."

Peter noticed how Eavan rolled her eyes at him. An action not well received for somebody he had been chatting to for less than a few minutes. Sure, he had a tendency to say stupid shit - but he hadn't done anything particularly bad yet either. Peter didn't appreciate being wrote off before he had even started. "Ah right so - what exactly makes you a Goddess?" His tone matching Eavan's previous one, an eyebrow raised.

@offtotheratraces

If Eavan had realized it was a marauder she was speaking to, she wouldn’t have said anything. Despite being in a different year and house from the four Gryffindors they were still a significant annoyance in Eavan’s life. As a rule, she did her best to ignore them whenever possible, and she certainly wasn’t above turning her back on one of them and simply walking away from a conversation, but Peter’s comment piqued her curiosity. “How exactly are you a detective?” She narrowed her eyes and delivered the question in a haughty, disbelieving tone to disguise her interest in the answer.

In the next breath, Eavan was rolling her eyes, already regretting not immediately dismissing the boy. She would have been more surprised if he’d recognized her costume, but his recommendation was preposterous. Why would she ever want to include beer stains in her costume? And she could hardly be seen dressing up as something from Muggle children’s stories. Not to mention she wasn’t entirely sure what an angel was. There were so many things wrong with his statement that it was hard to decide where to start, but ultimately she settled on, “Goddesses are not beer-stained.”

[offtotheratraces]

The voice of Bellatrix Black, somebody who his previous encounters with had been quite unpleasant. Peter almost visibly grimaced at the sound of her, but no part of him wanted to give her the satisfaction of doing so. After what the Blacks had done to Sirius, the pain that they had put his best friend through. A glare boomed over Peter's features. "Ah Bellatrix, I'll be fine. No need for any concern." Sarcasm oozing from his tone. Pushing himself to his feet and collecting the shell of the camera. It could be fixed later. "Never worry, those things can be easily replaced." Quite like shitty families, Peter fought back the urge to add.

@bellaaegis

Rarely was Bellatrix found within the charms corridor at this stage, no longer needing the class. Her path had lead her down a different path. No other intention than waiting on a friend had brought her down the familiar halls, a tale of so long ago. Had it not been for the noise of a crashing being, body hitting the floor, chances were she'd not have paid mind to the others roaming the corridor at all. Like so many other times before, Bellatrix saw no benefit within the presence of most until her eyes fell upon Peter Pettigrew.

No genius was needed to remember those her cousin had decided to bunk with in favor of his very own family. The brunette couldn't help the faux pity that befell her face, seeing nothing but a beneficial encounter within the meeting. "Look at you, should be careful. Don't want to get yourself hurt, do you?" Her head moved to the side, carefully bending down to pick up the lens that had shattered. "What a pity." Like a creature ready to use its claws to rip apart the structural integrity of another living being, Bellatrix couldn't help the curiosity. Two could play that game after all. - @offtotheratraces

[offtotheratraces]

"To be honest, I prefer that you rescued the camera first," Peter mused, the camera had been a gift from his mother. The last Christmas present before she had passed, it held a lot of sentimental value. That was a fact that Peter wasn't going to admit to Penelope, but he did appreciate her fixing the camera. "Oh, I'll take a lot of fancy shots now and if any make it big, I'll be sure to direct the profits you way."

"Oi, the four of us are very humble." That wasn't always the case, but what need was there to be humble? The Marauder's excellence was not to be diminished, they were the direct cause of the best parties in Gryffindor Common Room's history. "It is my area of expertise..." Peter agreed, nodding as he glanced around the corridor. Nothing that got her into trouble? That was a difficult ask. That immediately ruled out his idea of charming fireworks at the Astronomy tower. "What about a raid of the kitchens? I quite fancy something sweet."

"Right, how lucky that I was gallant enough to rescue the poor lens first, hm?" Penelope's eyebrow's shot up, doubt evident yet mixed with a smirk that gave away that not a single world her any seriousness. The chuckle wasn't far off. "Whatever fancy shots would you have taken without it?" But she agreed. No, of course one couldn't simply allow the world beyond the borders of Gryffindor or Hogwarts to think he wasn't humble.

"Because the four of you are that humble to begin with." They could be, surely, if they so wished. Whatever might make such a thing happen was a mystery to her. The Gryffindor glanced down at her essay for a moment before her attention returned to Peter. "Isn't that your expertise? Far be it for me to dare make a suggestion that couldn't be further away from what I'd consider my skill set. Lead the way, Peter. It was your idea. But," she paused, sighing. "nothing that could get me in trouble." This year had to go smoothly. Fun was fine, trouble was not. - @offtotheratraces

[offtotheratraces]

It was dark, but in the hue of the Hogs Head, Peter could faintly detect the slightest hint of a blush on Mary’s cheek. Was he kidding himself? Probably, but would he cling onto the hope for the rest of their conversation? Definitely. “If you’re the silent killer, I’d be honoured to be your first victim of the evening.”

Peter didn’t doubt that there was a line of suitors at Mary’s door. She was incredible, by far the most beautiful woman that Peter had ever seen. Even dressed as a stuffed olive, she was far out of his league. Peter could flirt like the best of them, but with Mary his words seemed to trip him up. “I’m glad to hear, I’ll be a ghost next year then.” He beamed, “Make all your dreams come true, eh?” If Mary had asked him not to show up next year, Peter probably would oblige. As he stood in front of her, Peter pushed back every urge to retort, maybe next year you should come as a my girlfriend. That would probably result in nothing but a pitiful gaze and rightfully so.

“Glad to hear, Mac.” Peter smiled, “What have you been drinking? Martinis?” He jested. Gesturing to her stuffed olive ensemble.

"I'm the silent killer of the night, with my deadly smile and sharp eyes," Mary joked, heart almost skipping a beat when Peter's lips graced the side of her head, and she hoped the slight tinge of blush wasn't noticeable. It was dark, surely not.

When Peter stepped away it felt like the warmth disappeared with him too and she tried not to pout, so instead Mary had twisted it into a smirk, eyes catching his. "You would be a cute ghost though - have you not seen my line of suitors outside the dorms awaiting my presence?" A light tease; no one was waiting for Mary - she was intrinsically ordinary - a girl with a wand, currently dressed as a stuffed olive. "but no one would ever make me blush quite like you do, Pettigrew."

She cleared her throat, eyes downcast to the floor to regain her composure - Peter was making her melt into oblivion. "It's been - you know, fine, good. Fantastic... Oh, I'd love a new drink, thank you. You're ticking all the right boxes tonight, you know."

[offtotheratraces]

Peter groaned, a slight laugh escaping in the process. Using his two hands to push himself back up into a sitting position. "Seems like i'm paying for the pose now, mate." Getting himself back to his feet in one final push. "I might be able to make it through one of those drills after that." He teased, "especially if it's raining, the rain does make those drills really fucking miserable" A grin

"I'm alright - my pretty face is still in tact. Can't say the same about yours, Prongs." A joke, of course. "My pride is a bit bruised, but I can't remember a time when it wasn't."

Was James supposed to be in class? Absolutely. Did that mean he had any intention to attending said class, now that he was so late for it the word 'late' no longer quite described the extent of it? Of course not. Instead, after finding Peter doing his best to contort himself into a window frame and balancing on a ledge better than James often balanced on a broom, James let out a low whistle. "Merlin, mate, you're going to be paying for that pose tomorrow. Or in practice when Amos decides to run one of those damn drills."

James was comfortably leaned up against the wall when Peter hopped down, only to get tangled and eat stone. The wince that graced James' face was partially for that, but far more for that tell-tale tinkling shattering of a broken camera lense. "Oh bollocks mate," James breathed as he pushed off the wall and offered Peter a hand up. "I really hope that wasn't because of me. You ok, mostly? Only thing in pain is your pride? Because," James added with a grin, "that was a wicked fall."

[offtotheratraces]

"Course," Peter beamed, it was a complete lie. But he reckoned it was funnier to tease than to let the embarrassment overtake him. "Aye, I'll live. I might have to get a few extra house points for my bravery which I'll refuse, obviously...I can't have people thinking I'm not humble. Don't worry, Penn. I'd much prefer that you fixed my camera lens."

"Leave plenty for last-minute?" He questioned, quirking an eyebrow. "Do tell." A slight look of excitement on his features as Penelope agreed to getting up to no good. The Marauders were busy, but that didn't mean Peter had to sit around and wait. "What do you fancy? Pranking a classroom or heading down to the lake?"

"Did you now?" Penelope raised an eyebrow at Peter, shrugging off the idea of questioning the comment before she could even think about it further. "I'm sure you'll live. You better. Otherwise I'd have wasted some good time on fixing a your camera lens when really I should have taken you to the infirmary. Not sure how much that place makes for a photo shoot."

Her eyes moved down to the essay in her hands, chuckling at the idea that anyone may consider it too early. Perhaps this was the hard-working Hufflepuff shining through, the house she'd denied when the choice was made. "I just need to turn it in. I leave plenty for last-minute, Peter. " It was important to keep on top of things. "But I'll take the entertainment all the same." - @offtotheratraces