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Post by peter pettigrew on Feb 16, 2011 19:38:24 GMT -5
If there were two things Peter hated more than anything, they were extreme heat and having to share a room. Back home it hadn't been a problem. He was allowed the only bedroom while his mother took the pull-out couch, and the heater had never worked well in the flat anyway, so both Pettigrews got used to the cold. Unfortunately, the Gryffindor common room had a fully functioning heater. One that was unnecessarily blasting on an already warm night. That, combined with the fact that he was sharing the dorm with four loudly-snoring boys, prevented Peter from getting any sleep that night.
By one in the morning he'd given up on trying, and went down to the common room with his bag of homework. The room was deserted, as was usual for such a late hour, but it didn't seem any cooler there. He knew it would be impossible to focus on the five-page Herbology paper he was supposed to write, so he hid his bag under an armchair and left the room. Once he was sure no one was watching him, Peter turned into his rat form and started running down the marble staircase. It took him a little longer to reach the ground floor than it would if he was human. His short legs were better suited for jumping rather than running, and he had a small problem with a couple of cats that escaped from Ravenclaw tower.
Peter stuck to the shadows, scurrying noiselessly with his tail flicking behind him. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he was caught in this form. Visions of Professor Slughorn experimenting on rats filled his nightmares. It could be even worse, he realized. McGonagall could use him for transformations. But surely she'd be able to tell that he was an animagus first, in which case he'd probably be expelled and sent to Azkaban. And everyone would know he wasn't smart enough to become an animagus on his own, so they'd find the others and then....
He was in front of the entrance to the kitchens before he could finish that thought. With a quick look around, he turned back into his human self and tickled the pear on the painting. The door opened and he hurried inside. It was much cooler down here, despite the fires burning all along one wall of the kitchen. Peter smiled as he looked at the house elves, busy at work. These creatures, unlike most humans, understood Peter. One tiny elf, wearing a towel like a toga, ushered him to a table.
"What can Mindy get Master Peter," she said, giving him a wide smile.
"Peppermint tea and licorice wands, if you have any, please."
"Of course, sir! Mindy will be right back."
Peter sighed and watched her go. With any luck, Mindy would be able to fetch a sleeping potion for him before he left so he could actually get some rest.
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Post by rita colline skeeter on Feb 19, 2011 16:31:18 GMT -5
The night passed away slowly, the minutes feeling like hours in themselves, and Rita was laying awake in the Ravenclaw dormitory. The other girls were fast asleep, a gentle breathing emanating from each of them. The last late night studier had drifted into sleep two hours earlier, and still Rita laid awake, her eyes pinned to the ceiling, her mind reliving her past few years at Hogwarts. She had come a long way from where she started back home, the bully of the neighborhood, and now she was regretting just how far she had come. Nights like this, they toyed with the special shell wrapped around Rita Skeeter. She lost sight of her passions, and was left with a sickening feeling of despair, and loneliness. The other girls put up with her, and the rest of the school seemed to expect the same evil day after day. The Hogwarts Press wasn't so anonymous anymore, and neither was the editor.
She sat up, her eyes dry and aching from the silent tears that had rolled down her cheeks all night. Behind her bed curtains, she wept in secret. Her face had stains all down to her chin, and her hair was ruffled and out of place. She wiped away the half dried tears, and pulled on her Hogwarts uniform that was laying out neatly on her trunk. She didn't even bother to tuck in her shirt tonight, sure she wouldn't run into a single soul. She ran her fingers through her hair once, flattening it out to a decent style, and she quietly slipped on her shoes. The girls snored away, and without a look back, Rita left her tower, ready to embark to the kitchens.
It wasn't a secret, Rita Skeeter liked her pastries. She gobbled them up at desert each day, or during breakfast. And what everyone didn't know, she could put away a whole plate full on nights like this. The corridors were empty, save a few cats that were darting back to their owners as Rita left the common room. She carried her wand in her right hand, a dim lumos floating on the tip, and barely lighting her way. She had lived here for six years, and had made a handful of midnight trips to the kitchens. Nights plagued Rita more often than she let on. In the morning she would look fresh and new, and she would forget her worries in the face of a public that expected her to act a certain way. She knew her way down to the painting, knew her way into the kitchens, and knew just where to go to find that tray of deserts. The house elves had learned to expect her, and her sweet tooth, almost daily.
The kitchens, however, were not as empty as they had always been. They were illuminated, filled already with a guest on a mission to have a midnight snack. Rita stopped in the doorway, her shoes had clicked and clanged and announced her entrance, and she stopped fearing for a moment who it would be that would see her in the most disastrous fashion imaginable. Her eyes widened on the somewhat stocky form of Peter Pettigrew, and her mouth gaped open letting a single squeak of surprise escape out. A house elf staggered into view, holding a cup of tea and licorice, and stopped to smile at Rita. "Why, it's Rita Skeeter!" And that was it, she was outed.
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Post by peter pettigrew on Feb 19, 2011 18:09:01 GMT -5
Rita's entrance startled Peter a bit. And because he was not Moony, who was calm under pressure, Peter jumped up from his seat, clumsily knocked over the stool with a loud thud. Because he did not possess Prongs' charm, he said the first thing that came into his mind, which was "Uhh". And because he did not have Padfoot's good looks, Peter quickly realized that he probably looked like an idiot.
He willed his brain to work again, to form a complete sentence. Something that would explain why he was in the kitchens past midnight, wearing faded red pajamas with little golden lions on them. Hopefully an explanation that would not land him on the front page of the Hogwarts Press. But, because he wasn't any of his friends - just bloody useless Wormtail - he couldn't come up with any clever excuses, so he decided his next best option was to try and talk his way out of the situation.
Again it came to his mind that he was out of his comfort zone here. Talking to people, specifically pretty girls, was more James or Sirius' area of expertise. Still, he had to risk it. His life at Hogwarts depended on his being able to lie his way out of that room without telling the gossip queen about being an animagus. He gulped and began.
"Hel-hello," he stammered, giving Rita something resembling a smile. "Do you want to, um, join ... me?"
Quickly, he pulled a chair out from the table, as he'd seen his friends do for their girlfriends countless times. He took the tray of tea and licorice from Mindy's hands and asked her to fetch another cup. As he waited for Rita's reply, he let out a sigh of relief because he hadn't spilled the tea.
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Post by rita colline skeeter on Feb 20, 2011 2:56:08 GMT -5
For a moment, if even for a moment, Rita wanted to turn around and bolt out of there. The elf, however, didn't seem to mind the extra company, and happily announced Rita's presence. As the shock and surprise melted away, her mouth slowly closed and her eyes blinked back to normal size. There was Peter, stumbling out of his chair, looking dumbly right back at her. If there had been a mirror before her eyes, it would have looked the same. For a second, they were both struck silent, minds blank, voices uttering nonsense. She stood up to full height, and out of habit, fulled on her shirt, supposedly flattening it in the process, and her left hand quickly smoothed back stray hairs. Nothing could help the fact that she had literally rolled out of bed, but it wasn't like Peter could say much. His pajamas certainly stood out.
With a smile, Rita paraded up towards him, accepting his invitation to join his meal. She gave a curt nod to the house elf, but her eyes were like knives piercing into the poor little creature with despite and annoyance. There was, however, nothing to be done now, but play along and she was certain the game would be easy to win. Both were afraid of the other's mouth running the next day, but neither would tell, and it would be their own little secret. Rita didn't like people thinking she was any less than the bracing woman she carried her self to be, and Peter didn't like being in the papers. At least, she assumed he didn't. They sat in silence for a moment, settling into the awkward situation.
"Nice lions." Rita said, bluntly breaking the ice. She hadn't quite seen Gyrffindor inspired night things, nor had she ever experienced Ravenclaw ones either. She smiled, and chuckled a little, bringing her eyes from his slacks to his face. "Where'd you get 'em!?" Her voice was, as it rarely ever was, natural and honest. The twinge of laughter that bounced along her words was apparent, but so was the friendly curiosity. For the first time, Rita really wanted to know Peter's story, and secretly wanted a pair of pajamas like those to sit at the bottom of her trunk never seeing the light of day, but always being there.
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Post by peter pettigrew on Feb 22, 2011 22:08:38 GMT -5
Peter's smile faltered a bit as Rita stepped closer and took the seat he had pulled out for her. He had been expecting - hoping, really, that she would turn around and leave. After all, Rita was smart and pretty. She had talent. Peter just barely passed his exams. He was fat and his only true talent was something no one was allowed to know about. Why in the name of Merlin would she want to sit with him?
Realizing he was still standing, Peter righted his stool and sat down on the opposite side of the table from her. He wasn't sure what to say while they waited for Mindy to come back. He started staring at her unintentionally, taking in her ruffled hair and tear stains on her face. Instantly he felt bad and just the tiniest bit curious. He wanted to asked her why she'd been crying, to help her someway, but Mindy came back just then and Peter lost whatever bit of Gryffindor bravery that was left in him. He poured the tea silently, needing to focus on keeping his hands steady so he wouldn't spill anything.
"Nice lions," Rita said just as Peter handed her a cup of tea. He blushed and looked down, carefully adding some sugar to his own cup. "Where'd you get 'em!?" He looked up at her, surprised at the question and unsure of why she cared, but he answered anyway.
"There's a shop in Diagon Alley. It's filled with second-hand robes," he said the last part quietly as he stirred the tea. He was ashamed of how poor he was, especially when seen next to James and Sirius, who had never been forced to work to pay for their school supplies. He decided to change the subject. "Do you come down here often?"
'Smooth, Wormtail,' he thought. 'Very smooth.'
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Post by rita colline skeeter on Feb 26, 2011 20:53:43 GMT -5
Peter was a gentleman, at least he tried to be. Rita usually took those kinds of things for granted, she thought that people really were trying to be nice to her, or that they just should anyway. Peter was doing his best to be polite for other reasons, and deep down, she knew that. She looked up at him, watching his many expressions. Something was flying through his mind, as she was sure he could tell that things were flying by the back of her eyes a million times a minute. She slowly took the cup of tea and took one big gulp. He asked her if she came down here often, and her eyes widened slightly as she swallowed the tea with a gulp.
"No, no I don't really come here all that often." She shrugged and put the tea cup back up to her lips, staring down into the brown water with slight nausea. Could he see the tears that spilled from her nearly every night? As she took another sip, a house elf came running around the corner with a tray of pastries for Rita. "Oh Rita, We are sorry we didn't have your donuts ready tonight like we usually do! Here..." She coughed and spit her tea back into her cup, and looked up at Peter with a grin.
"Why are you here Peter!? So late...wouldn't do for Gryffindor to lose any more house points if you were ever caught. Heh, heh.." Her words nearly sprang at him, and she set the tea down shooting a glare at the house elf that had shoved the plate of donuts in Rita's lap. Her nervous laughter trailed off and Rita mindlessly fixed her hair behind her ear letting her hands settle awkwardly in her lap as she twiddled her thumbs before Pettigrew.
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Post by peter pettigrew on May 27, 2011 19:52:02 GMT -5
"I guess I have trouble sleeping sometimes. Noisy dorm mates and too much on my mind. And I like it down here. It may sound silly, but the house-elves understand me better than people do." Peter ignored Rita's lying to him about how often she came to the kitchens. She wasn't the only one with secrets at that table.
"I'm pretty good at not getting caught," he said carefully, hoping she wouldn't ask for tips. He sipped his tea and watched her, trying to understand her. It wasn't very often he could sit and talk with a girl for a long amount of time. He would either be incredibly shy with them, or they'd walk away. He hadn't even said more than five words to James' girlfriend Lily in the past month. Being here, alone with Rita in the middle of the night, made him curious about her. His confidence was still not at Sirius' level, but the tea was relaxing him.
"And what about you? Why are you here? I thought Ravenclaws were above breaking rules."
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Post by rita colline skeeter on Jun 9, 2011 17:13:59 GMT -5
Something about imagining the normally bumbling Peter sneaking his way around the castle at night was difficult. She hadn't expected such secrecy out of him, but perhaps that's what happened when you turned your radar off for people you had never thought to care about. While she knew all about the types of people James and Lily were, Holden or Kyndrick even, she never really gave much thought to Peter or the other slightly less visible people of Hogwarts. So though it did take her by surprise at first, she swallowed her pride only a moment later realizing that she wasn't as good at reading people as she always thought she was. Rita generally just saw things and mashed them together like some kind of jigsaw puzzle where the pieces never really fit, she didn't actually sit back and watch people.
But tonight she was. It was calming on her agitated nerves. Though he seemed to ignore her blatant lying to him, because not even a hot headed Gryffindor could be that dim, she was still worried about image. For some reason it seemed like letting someone like Peter down would probably hurt her self esteem more than if she let down Holden. After all, she didn't mean anything to Holden. Did she mean something to Peter? Probably not, but he was still talking to her wasn't he, not making up an excuse to leave her before she started writing about him. "I thought that James was everyone's favorite, whether awake or asleep.." She cocked her head to the side and picked up one of the pastries, her only vice.
"Above breaking rules? Please, more like more acute on how to do it." She gave him a grin and took a rather large bite into her donut. "I've gotten caught before though." Her words were muffled by the fluff of dough filling her mouth, but even if her manners were a little off, at least she remembered to hold her hand over her mouth while she talked. She shrugged her shoulders remembering just for a moment the time when Kevin Willis had watched her blonde hair flip around the corner and was upon her with a detention faster than you could say deviance. How did Peter do it if Rita couldn't?
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Post by peter pettigrew on Jun 22, 2011 11:33:01 GMT -5
Peter chuckled as he selected a licorice wand from the plate in front of him. "James is the favorite of everyone who doesn't have to share a room with him," he corrected. He bit into the wand and smiled. "He snores and hides people's clothes. And this one time over Christmas holidays, he set off fireworks at five in the morning just to see us jump." Peter didn't mention the fact that he'd run screaming from the dorm room that night, and didn't stop running until he reached the entrance hall. He slept in the common room for the next two weeks.
Guilt instantly washed over Peter as he realized that he'd just complained about his best friend - one of the most popular guys in their year - to someone who could easily write an article about him. Knowing full well what James would do to him if that happened, Peter tried quickly to correct himself. "He's a great guy, though. Best friend anyone could have. He doesn't do any of that stuff anymore, you know." He nervously took a sip of his tea and watched Rita for her reaction. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for... maybe a quill and notepad to suddenly be pulled from her pockets? 'Yes, Peter, that's it. She sneaks around at night looking for other people out of bed to write about. Makes perfect sense.'
"I don't think I've been caught since this time last year. I'm really careful about it, normally. My mum would probably send me to Azkaban if she found out I got in trouble again." It was the truth, but Peter hoped Rita would take it as he'd meant it - as a plead for her to not tell anyone about him. There were ways she could do it without getting detention herself. An anonymous note to McGonagall, maybe. Whatever the case, there was no way he'd be staying over the Christmas holidays if his mum found out about this.
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