#buckoff-potter

[aurorlongbottomridingadinosaur]

[kingsrustedcrown-blog]

1, 8, 17, 21, 27, 36, 38,44, 45, 48, 50

1. What does their bedroom look like?

Robert lives in a studio flat, on the seventh floor of a muggle apartment complex. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been high while making that choice but alas. So his bedroom is essentially the whole place, the main feature is a bed, but there’s also a sofa, a bean bag, a little coffee table, a small kitchen table, with two chairs with it. The kitchenette. His wardrobe. Loads of pictures, cork boards full of them. Little displays everywhere of stuff he finds important to him. Pillows all over the place. A record player in the corner next to his bed. 

8. Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Alcohol or sex. Preferably both at once. So long as he does it responsibly (does he ever though???) he doesn’t see a problem in it. He’s young, he’s not being destructive.

17. Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Whatever the hell he grabs in the morning. Typically it’s a very 70s look, in all honesty. Rob likes to keep up to date with the latest trends. 

21. Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Confidence, the chase, aggression. 

Slytherins.

27. What is their biggest regret?

Not taking his schooling more seriously so he could be better prepared for the war.

36. What makes them feel guilty?

Not being able to protect Natalie. Disappointing his family when he was kicked off the Magpies. Not being a decent dueler when it comes to the Order.

38. Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

Robert would say he’s Type B just because he views Type A’s to be the studious Ravenclaw or arsehole Slytherin types.

44. Religion?

Robert struggles frequently with religion. His family always prayed that his soul would be saved when he was younger, something he resented at the time. Though his parents didn’t mean to do so, they often made Robert feel as though he must be possessed by demons. 

These days, he’s not so sure he can trust God or that he’s good, given the hell that’s growing on earth. 

45. Superstitions or views on the occult?

Robert believes in everything superstitious, even if he tries to say he doesn’t. Like, how can you not believe in something after going from being a muggle to entering the magical world?

48. How do they express love?

In any and every way imaginable. Mostly by touch and through words. If he’s overly affectionate with you, it’s a safe bet that he loves you. 

50. Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

No, he’s afraid of what he’ll leave behind. 

Robert more or less accepted he could die after joining the Order and realizing the dangers the missions put them through. He’s absolutely fine with dying, knowing he’ll do so in a noble way. 

What he can’t deal with though, is knowing his sister won’t have him there anymore. He’s fucking terrified that if he dies, they’ll go after her for being muggleborn, or even worse, for being related to him. 

That, he can’t handle. 

[benjysbandages-blog]

beach with dawn pls

Drabble List!

Beach: I’ll write a drabble of our characters at the beach together.

Benjy knew long ago that should they make it to this point, six months were well worth celebrating being together. While students may have celebrated one month, two month, and so on... it felt too time consuming to go that far as adults, in his opinion. However, the fact that summer was jam packed with the League, he’d also known that planning anything would have been far too risky. 

So the moment Dawn had informed him of the only game she had during the semi-finals, he’d let out a breath of relief. The weekend would already be difficult to work with, given Frank and Alice marrying the day after, but this was important to him as well. A reminder to Dawn that he was taking this seriously, even though as of late they’d barely had time together. Even going as far as using her work outs as ‘dates’ if only to be together for a couple of hours a day once in awhile when his schedule allowed for it. 

With every passing day, it was growing harder for him. Harder to hide the fact that he was part of something as dangerous as the Order. Harder for him to explain away the missing hours. Harder for him to not kiss her harder and hug her tighter, knowing he could come back injured if not worse. 

For this one day, however, he put all of that out of his mind, holding her hand as they walked down to the beach, having already coated one another in sunblock. Together they played in the water, racing with swimming (of which Benjy would like to point out, Dawn did not win every round), building castles, swimming more, until both were tired from the sun and headed back up to Tinworth. 

Together, they received a couples massage, and after being thoroughly relaxed, headed over to a nice dinner, where Benjy slipped a wrapped necklace onto Dawn’s cleared spot while she went to the loo between dinner and dessert (of which he skipped out on, naturally). 

Many a kiss and hug were exchanged between forgotten bites of Dawn’s dessert, and though Benjy felt certain words at the tip of his tongue, he choked them down, instead showing Dawn all of his feelings late into the night in her flat. 

Yes, he could get used to this. 

[loriorpington-blog]

2, 19, 33, 47

2. Do they have any daily rituals?

Only very, very basic ones anymore. Ones you would expect of a woman with a child and a job. Half the time Lori forgets to do certain things she ought to for herself before leaving (such as brushing her teeth or making certain that shirt on the floor didn’t have a stain on it).

19. What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

What Marietta will grow up to be. Will she have curly hair? Straight hair? Will she be a Ravenclaw? A Slytherin? What will she tell her when Marietta inevitably asks about who her father is? Will she be a tom boy? A girly girl? So many possibilities, and each night its a new reality in Lori’s mind. 

33. Concept of home and family?

Growing up, Lori lived what she imagined to be fairly typical family behaviour. Mum stayed at home, dad worked. Mum did all of the cleaning and cooking, even after Lori went to Hogwarts and she got a job of her own. 

She didn’t realize that the way her father treated her mum wasn’t normal, and wasn’t okay. She has however, since getting older, decided she’s very much not okay with the idea of marrying someone whom would treat her that way. 

47. If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

Someone with an open mind and heart. Who will let her hold their hand and guide them on a crazy adventure and laugh as they get lost somewhere. Someone who will delve into what interests her, and share things that interest them as well. Someone that is not only her lover, but her best friend and partner in life.

[aliceprewett-blog1]

22, 25, 31, 44

22. Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

More likely than not, Alice would write a list of things she needs to accomplish within a certain amount of time to do later when she’s able to do them. 

25. How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

x

31. Most prized possession?

Her wand. 

Without her wand, Alice is incapable of keeping those she loves in the wizarding war, and that would positively break her heart and terrify her. 

44. Religion?

Alice has always very firmly believed in God. Her family always went to church on holidays, and as many Sunday’s as they could (which as a child, was every Sunday). These days, Alice doesn’t attend service often, but still holds her belief close to her heart. She needs to believe in some higher power that not even Lord Voldemort can touch, someone who will make sure they make it out of this darkness. 

[peteswormtail-blog]

Fight with James !!

Drabble List!

Fight: I’ll write a drabble of my character fighting with/against yours.

If you had asked eleven year old Peter, whose side he’d be on when dueling - he would without a pause, say James Potter’s. He would never imagine another side being even half as appealing. Who could defeat James Potter, after all? The boy was brilliant and talented more than the child Peter could ever imagine. 

Seven years later, Peter would have said the same, though with a hint of reluctance. Reluctance not found in his belief that James would be in the right, nor that James was less than capable in a duel. No, but rather because he was concerned about who might be on the other side, and if Peter himself could fight against them. Yet, he would have never wavered to the other side. Asked if Sirius could step in, perhaps, but never have gone to the other side. 

Now, ten years later, at the still young age of twenty-one, Peter felt so old. So weary of everyone and everything around him. He no longer felt safe standing at James’ side. The target on him simply for being friends with the only person he’d ever considered worthy of following, had grown too large, and Peter was too much a coward to admit he hated being in the Order. 

Yet the Dark Lord knew. And he’d used it against Peter. Peter was very much aware he was being used, but at the end of the day he was also being protected. Safe from either side, until now. 

Prove yourself. 

It ought to have been the tag line for the Death Eaters, because since the moment of caving and going to the Dark Lord, all Peter had been doing was attempting to prove himself. But nothing had been as bad as this. 

Silent spell after silent spell spilled from Peter’s new wand - a wand he’d spent every last knut he’d had on just to make certain his friends would never recognize it. His mission didn’t involve killing - only incapacitating as many people as possible. Peter admittedly was avoiding anyone with muggle blood, knowing they would be killed later. 

Which was how he found himself face to face with the very best friend he’d ever had in his life. The person who was possibly, in more danger than the muggleborns around them. What was he doing, leaving Lily and Harry at home to be here? Didn’t he realize what was happening? 

His moment of falter cost him, and Peter let out a small gasp before clamping his lips shut behind his mask, shooting a spell at James, not all that surprised when it was deflected, another shooting barely a second after the deflection. Peter deflected in return, though his spell faltered, causing him to nearly cry out in pain again, but he held it in this time, shooting two spells towards James, one after the other, neither aiming to hurt, just to stop James. To slow him down. To ward him off. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” James bellowed at him, a sick cruel laugh following the tauntin words, and for the first time - Peter felt like crying due to James. 

His heart skipped a beat before he began shooting stunner after stunner at James, his pain and anger fueling his fire as James attempted to shield it all. 

Much to Peter’s relief, someone screamed for James to run just as his strength began to fade, the urge to cry overpowering his anger. James sent what was the nastiest of glares in Peter’s direction. “You were lucky this time!” With a pop, James disappeared, along with everyone else still alive, and conscious. 

Peter stood there, breathing hard, trying to hold back the tears as a fellow Death Eater clapped his shoulder before moving past and callously killing someone nearby without a second thought, while another in the distance called the Dark Mark to the sky. 

And that was the day, Peter knew he could never go back to the innocent boy who trusted James without a shadow of doubt, ever again. 

[hestiajones-wik]

♒ ★ ☼

★ - sad headcanon

On the day Hestia left to accompany the Dursleys into hiding, it happened to be her husband’s birthday. She left a small cake for him and the children on the dining room table, and a full breakfast cooking in the kitchen. Luckily, they were able to spend the next one together, and many more after that.

♒ - cooking/food headcanon

Hestia is an excellent cook, her most popular dish being her homemade lasagna. Once a week, she has dinner with her fathers (and her siblings, during the summers), which she cooks herself.

☼ - appearance headcanon

Hestia owns a pair of reading glasses, and has since she was twelve. She hardly ever uses them, unless she’s feeling very serious and wants to look the part.

[marymacxx]

Sing - James

Mary + James: Sing: (a drabble of my character singing to yours)

Mary was singing. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, although she only ever did it when she was by herself or with people she was comfortable with. Or when she’d had a few too many giggle waters, but that was rarer. The current situation was the former. Standing at the small stove in her flat, she was stirring at a pot of caldo gallego, half-humming, half-singing.

“But… now… there’s nooooowhere to hide, since you pushed my love asiiiiiiide,” she belted out rather dramatically, doing a spin before returning her attention to her soup. Out of the corner of her eye she saw James, who was lying on the couch waiting for Lily to return home, sit up.

“Mary, can I ask you a question?” he asked, not waiting for her to respond before continuing, “Do you have to sing that song?”

“Yes, James, I do,” Mary replied without looking at her friend, continuing to stir, “And you shouldn’t insult this one. It’s one of Lily’s favorites.”

“I know. Which is why I’m tired of hearing it.”

“So, do you want me to tell her that you hate it when she gets here?” Mary finally turned her gaze towards James, flashing him a playful glare. His lips were pursed, clearly not wanting her to do what she’d threatened.

“I thought so,” she replied with a laugh, beginning to hum once more. James slumped back down on the couch, sighing.

[macnair]

6, 20

6. Something that grosses your OC out?

He doesn’t like gravy. On anything. Ever. The end.

20. What is your OC’s happy place?

His flat. It was the first place he really got away from his dad, and where he didn’t have to worry about anything while he and Rabastan were together. 

[rxlestrange]

3, 14, 19

3. Is your OC good at keeping secrets?

Incredibly.

14. Does your OC get excited when they get mail?

If it’s a package, yes. If it’s a letter, no. 

19. Your OC’s most prized possession?

His wand. Though there’s really nothing unique about it. Growing up Rodolphus was slightly more eager to get his wand, than his letter to Hogwarts. So, when he finally got it he took great pride in it. 

[kingsrustedcrown-blog]

yellow

yellow: 

if you could have any view from your bedroom window what would you choose? 

If he had to change his current one (which he absolutely loves the view of the city from his window), it’d likely be to a wide open field where he could run out and fly at any given time. 

what’s your favorite thing to do on a sunny day? 

Fly. Swim if its summer time, but always flying. 

what do you consider lucky? what made you smile today? 

So Robert is actually pretty superstitious. So anything that is lucky via those, he goes with. There’s probably loads of little tokens around his flat that he considers lucky or positive to have so he keeps them around. 

Chances are, his cats made him smile. Also, knowing he’s going to be on the Tornados team next year. 

what makes you happy?

Being with the people he loves. Flying is a very very close second, but ultimately by the time he hits the ground the high from flying begins to ebb these days. Meanwhile, if he has a good day with someone he loves, it sticks with him for ages. Or at least until he spots a Slytherin. 

[benjysbandages-blog]

1, 15, 29, 39

1. What does their bedroom look like?

The bulk of it is a big king sized mattress that I’m sure Dawn insisted he needed because of his height. The wall to the left side is purely a book shelf, which is not even 1/10 full at the moment, but he’s working on it. It also has some trinkets and other things on it that he had no other place for at the moment. There’s also a bed side table which has typically a bottle of beer or glass of water, a couple of candles, and whatever book he’s been reading. 

The right side has more walking space, but also has his wardrobe, and another bedside table which has whatever Dawn puts on it and candles. 

At the foot of the bed is his old Hogwarts trunk with stuff he no longer uses in it. Along with his dirty clothes thrown on top. 

The walls are a Ravenclaw blue, and the bedding is a bronze-y colour because he’s a damn nerd who loves his house. 

Also you’d best believe there’s Harpies stuff everywhere by now.

15. Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest - to keep Dawn safe. 

Smallest - to organize his damn books. 

29. Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster?

It changes constantly. 

Typically he can keep his head on straight enough to go and find whoever needs his help, and heal them as quickly as possible. 

Dawn however, messes him up. If he knows she’s not at home safe, he needs to know that she’s safe, and then he dives head first into helping everyone else. 

39. What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Sleeping. Even just a thirty minute nap and he’s good to go again. 

[loriorpington-blog]

Creatus - Lori and Tristan 😈

Place one of these words and a character/pairing/series in my inbox and I’ll write a drabble about it

Creatus : Child

“We’re closing u–” Lori had been amid magicking the stools to do a little dance before sitting them upwards for the night, half to amuse Marietta, half to amuse herself - the entire day had been amusing, honestly. With how horrid things had been lately, in the world and in her life, she needed the laugh. 

But before she could finish the sentence, she’d seen who’d come in, and gasped. The stools all fell to the floor, in a painfully loud clattering that had Marietta screaming in disappointment and disapproval of the noise. “Oh Merlin,” she gasped out, rushing to her daughters side, heart hammering in her chest, unconcerned about the stools for now. 

Tristan Jugson. 

Why today of all days, would he decide to come into the pub again? 

She couldn’t remember a single time he’d so much as stepped toe inside since the night of Marietta’s conception, and the idea that he’d suddenly come here, after hours, after having seeing Marietta? It must be coincidence. 

“Sorry, I didn’t– Merlin she can scream,” Tristan stammered out, his voice barely loud enough for Lori to hear. Picking Marietta up, she cradled her to her chest, trying to remain calm, but bloody hell was it proving difficult. 

“You ought to leave, it’s after hours,” Lori informed him sternly, unable to look him in the eye, instead attempting to wave the stools back to their places, but struggling, particularly seeing as many were damaged. 

Seeing what she was attempting to do, Tristan took his wand out, repairing stool after stool, allowing Lori to focus on calming Marietta while watching his actions with suspicion. By the time he’d finished, Marietta was nearly finished crying, only a few blubbers of discontent filling the otherwise silent pub as the two parents stared at one another. 

It disturbed Lori, the fact that his hexed hair was the same exact shade of blue as Marietta’s. Almost as if the universe wanted to laugh in her face. It seemed he’d noticed as well, as he kept glancing between the females, gulping hard. 

“You should leave,” Lori repeated, less stern now. 

Tristan nodded, rocking back on his heels before shaking his head. “She’s– I’m, I mean, is she?” Despite him being clearly incapable of saying what he wanted, Lori knew exactly what he was referring to. 

Clenching her jaw, she brought forth the same conviction she did for everyone else who’d dared ask before him. “It’s no concern of yours, Tristan.” 

He seemed to consider this for a moment, and nearly looked as though he would agree with her. That he’d play along and leave, but instead he took a hesitant step forward. “The thing is– I– if she’s, if she’s mine, it is my concern.” 

Lori’s muscles in her jaw twitched, “Tristan, please leave.” It was the only thing she could think of to say. The wrong thing, it would seem, as the words triggered him moving several steps closer. 

“Tell me honestly that she is not mine and I will.” Were she not so terrified, Lori may have been impressed with his put on confidence. “Because I’ve been doing the math, and it keeps adding up, and your reaction… you always run when you see me.” 

“I’ve seen you twice, and hardly ran either time,” she scoffed, her voice trembling as he stopped, a mere meter away from her and their daughter. 

His head tilted to the side, saying nothing, but the unamused look in his eyes said more than enough. “Tell me I’m wrong about her.” 

“You’re–” Lori shook her head, looking away from him. “You’re wrong. Now will you leave?” 

“No. That was hardly honest.” 

Bristling at his sudden confidence, Lori glared up at him. “How would you know, Tristan? So you had a cute crush on me for however long. We were never really friends. You’ve no idea how many blokes I’ve slept with, or when I’ve slept with them.” 

Hurt crossed his features briefly before he began to harden, arms crossing over his chest. “You’re not the type to sleep around.” 

Lori rolled her eyes. “Again. You’ve no idea what type I am. Haven’t you heard the rumours?” 

“Rumours,” Tristan repeated, taking one more step closer. Marietta could almost reach out and touch him now, if she’d wanted. “Are often wrong. You didn’t leave here with blokes very often beforehand.” 

Frowning, Lori wondered how he’d known that, because in fact, she’d only left with a bloke from work once before Tristan, maybe twice while she was drunk early in her ‘career’. “So you stalked me until I slept with you, and then left once you got what you wanted? Charming, Tristan.” 

The snide remark hit Tristan like a whip, and she barely caught his reaction before he controlled it. “You’re diverging from the point, Lorraine.” 

Grimacing at the full usage of her name, she shifted, trying to step backwards, only to find her back too close to the bar to go anywhere. He had her trapped, physically and mentally. “There’s no point to be made, apart from you’re not her father.” 

A hand moved away from his chest then, and Lori flinched as it neared her and their daughter, trembling fingers inching towards her head. “Lying doesn’t suit you,” he informed her quietly, just as his finger tips brushed against Marietta’s locks, ones that matched his. 

“Neither does yellow hair, but luckily neither are of a great concern to me,” she shot back, on edge, waiting for the moment where she’d need to slap his hand away from Marietta. 

“I did fancy you, may even now,” Tristan informed her, apparently keen on ignoring her comments. “But I hardly stalked you. Everyone knew you were here. You gave me an excuse to request this pub when going out with mates.” 

Lori hardened further. “You ought to go back to your mates now.” 

Tristan’s eyes flicked back to Lori, practically burning her alive. “I’d rather be here, with my– my daughter.” 

“How many times–”

“Until I believe you, but seeing as you’re rubbish at lying, I don’t think it’ll be any time soon,” Tristan answered sharply, not removing his soft touch from Marietta’s head. The longer he touched her, the more disconcerted Lori grew. “I always wanted a family,” he added, softer this time.

Part of Lori softened, remembering how many times she’d nearly sought him out, owled him, something. Because she did remember. She remembered how fondly he spoke of children, of the future, of his mum. Of the idea of family. His reactions to hearing about how she’d read her own future, and Sybill had agreed that she’d had a happy family one day. 

“Would your friends be involved in this family?” Lori asked, knowing very well that his answer would result in whether she held onto her lies or not. 

“Not if you don’t want them to be,” Tristan told her, and Lori believed him. “It won’t be easy, and we may have to leave, but I would do it.” 

Uneasy, Lori shook her head. “I don’t know – that’s lunacy.” 

Tristan nodded, his shoulders slumping, his free hand reluctantly going to Lori’s face to stroke it. “It’s up to you. But Lori, I could love you. Both of you. Owl me, one word is all I need, and we can leave. Go anywhere you’d like. Start over as a family. A real family. No one has to know we weren’t a family beforehand. We can get married, get a small house, it can be perfect.” 

Lori didn’t respond, though she leaned into his touch for a moment before moving away. “If you were the father, I might consider it.” 

Tristan hesitated before lowering his hands with a solemn nod, seeming to have given in as he stepped away. “Very well.” 

Lori watched him walk away, frowning as Marietta began to cry again, as if sensing the loss of her father. The idea of running off into the sunset was ludicrous but honestly, what did Lori truly have going for her here? 

“Tristan,” she called just as he reached the door. All she had here was a dead end job, impossible hills to climb, friends who hardly cared about her now, and parents who were consistently nothing but disappointed. As Tristan stopped, she called to him the single word that would change the rest of their lives. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” 

“Yes!” 

Laughter filled the pub as Tristan practically ran across it back to the two females, and drew them into the warmest, most honest hug she’d felt in a year. Where they would go, who they would become, and whether this would ever work or not, Lori had no bloody idea. But as Tristan kissed her, she felt herself growing more alive than she dreamed of ever being able to be again. 

[aliceprewett-blog1]

FRALICE obvs

Send a ship and I’ll tell you who;

Gives nose/forehead kisses; Both, though Alice more frequently (when she can reach his nose and forehead at least). 

Gets jealous the most; Frank, without a doubt. Alice rarely gets jealous, though admittedly she did in the beginning of their relationship, particularly when Marlene could be so openly touch Frank, even with simple gestures where as she had to be mindful not to touch him at all unless alone with him. 

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive; More often than not, it’d be Alice picking up Frank. Though admittedly, I don’t see either of them frequently getting that drunk in public. 

Takes care of on sick days; Alice takes care of Frank, though he tries to do his best in return. 

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day; Alice drags Frank out, for sure. Probably on one of their few weekends away, where they’re intended to relax and simply be together, something she’ll remind him of while splashing him with a bit of water. 

Gives unprompted massages; Frank. Eventually Alice realizes it happens on the nights where she’s so wound up that the moment after work, she starts baking and knitting, shutting herself inside her mind, trying to cope with everything going on around them. 

Drives/rides shotgun; Frank always wants to drive, and Alice always allows him. 

Brings the other lunch at work; 

Has the better parental relationship; Alice. Her parents only wanted for her to do her best, and to be the best person she could be. No where near as complicated as Frank’s relationship with his mum. 

Embarrassingly drunk dancer; Dear god, Alice. Just another reason to only get drunk at home. 

Still cries watching Titanic; Alice. Frank would probably be sitting there seething over the fact that the ship wasn’t required to hold enough life boats for everyone on board, and that certainly more could have fit in the first few boats to leave. 

Firmly believes in couples costumes; Alice. Though I’d imagine getting Frank to dress up as anything for Halloween would be a challenge in itself. Honestly, she should just dress up with Marlene and give Frank a headache for the night. 

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas; Frank, and oh how he’ll hear about it, even if Alice is crying with happiness the whole time. 

Makes the other eat breakfast; Alice, even if she has to bend and learn to get in the habit of using pepper on eggs. *sigh* 

Remembers anniversaries; Both, though Frank’s more apt to “forget” simply due to life getting away from him, and the day arriving much sooner than he’d anticipated. 

Brings up having kids; ........... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHA haha.... ... ha. 

[peteswormtail-blog]

Drabble List!

Mourn: I’ll write a drabble of my character mourning yours.

Following James and Lily’s death, Peter couldn’t manage being in human form for more than five minutes without feeling utterly insane. 

He’d promised. Promised. Only Harry. 

Harry would be horrible to lose, but James and Lily could have other children. It should have been fine. 

There would never be another James. Another Lily. And in the end, the one person promised to death... was the only one to survive. 

The moment Peter had realized how wrong the plans went, he went into survival mode. There was no choice, he had to frame Sirius, the only one on the planet who would know that Peter had been the secret keeper, for the simple fact it hadn’t been him. And then... with sweet relief, he took over the life of a rat. 

For years, he roamed from home to home, barely able to survive on scraps, and nearly meeting his untimely demise through vicious cat claws. The barest hints of human in him wondered hopelessly if perhaps this would be his life forever, fighting to survive, to make it to the next day. 

Then one day, a young boy with bright red hair found Peter in the living room of his home and decided to save him from his younger, irresponsible brothers. And for the first time in the longest time, Peter remembered what it was to be saved, to be safe. 

Yet still, he hid within the mind of a rat, soaking in the luxury of being a pet. All seemed well and good until the time for Percy to go to Hogwarts came, and oh, that sliver of humanity in Peter trembled with panic. Wesleys and Pewetts were well known for being Gryffindors, and of course, it was without shock that Percy ended up being one as well. Worse even was the fleeting moment of concern that they would end up in that room. 

The room where Peter wouldn’t be able to ignore what he’d done. 

Yet, luck was on his side yet again, placing them in the room one off from the one where his best memories lay. And so, he continued to live oblivious to the world. 

Until that fateful year. The year Harry befriended Ron, his next owner 

The guilt chewed at Peter any time he caught a glimpse of Harry. It threatened to tear him away from the rat forever and force him to suffer as a pathetic human with too many demons to count. He was so like James in looks, and so like Lily in personality, it caused his bones to ache. 

That Christmas, with that dorm room being left empty, Peter snuck inside as a rat, making double certain that all the inhabitants were gone for the break before finally turning into a human once more. The first time in ten years. 

Sobbing quietly, he walked over to the stone wherein they etched their nicknames during their final Christmas together in this room. 

He’d betrayed them all. 

Killed James.

Imprisoned Sirius. 

Left Remus alone. 

It was all his fault, and Peter the human couldn’t handle the gut wrenching pain that that very thought caused. Couldn’t handle sitting here, in the room that’d been more of a home to him than anywhere else on the planet. Where all of those wonderful moments of laughing, creating the map, planning out how to be animagi, everything, took place. 

And so, after nearly an hour of crying, he forced himself to find loopholes. 

None of it would have happened if Sirius hadn’t been so dodgy in the end. If he’d been a decent friend, a decent person, Peter never would have defected. Then he could have been secret keeper, and everyone would be alive. Everything would have been fine. Maybe Frank and Alice could have killed the Dark Lord. 

It was terrible James had died, and Peter doubted he would ever be okay with that lone fact; but hadn’t Sirius deserved all he’d gotten? 

Yes. Surely he had. 

[groovekinnon]

Marlene knew better than to butt in where she wasn’t invited, but that never stopped her. It was practically fate that she had looked up in time to see such a grimace worthy purchase only moments away from being made. “If it was me, I’d probably save it for St. Patty’s day,” she commented, dropping the potential gift she’d been eyeing as she approached the offender. “It doesn’t really strike me as romantic enough for the fourteenth. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”