"I hate him!"
Sirius Black couldn't sleep, because his heart was pounding too fast, because all he could think was that his mother was going to disown him, and yeah, he always wanted to be different from them, but he didn't want for them to look at him like that, like that he was weird, like that he was not good different not good rebellious but bad, just bad, not cool bad not funny bad, but bad like ugly bad, like unwanted bad, like he was worth less, like he was one of "those" people.
(and the eyes last night at dinner all the eyes all the eyes)
He tossed and turned and he dreamed about bad things and he woke up with sore eyes and a sick feeling in his stomach, and he said to himself, it's okay, James Potter was pretty cool and he was gonna be popular and Sirius would be popular like he always was before, just the same, no, even more popular, and they would have fun like idiots together, and that kid Chris, well, they were roommates and Sirius didn't necessarily like Chris that much, there was something...off about him, something that made him feel uneasy on the inside, but Chris would like him, everyone would like him and Hogwarts would be the best seven years ever, and they would be legends, and no one would ever stop them.
.
.
.
6 a.m. and zero hours of sleep, Christopher rolled out of bed in a daze and slogged like a giant slug across the room to the bathroom. 15 minutes later he was still moving like a sloth, all limp hands and dead to the world.
8 a.m he was still standing in the bathroom with a toothbrush sticking out of his mint-frothing mouth, left cheek puffed with toothpaste, dark circles under his aching eyes. He had a left sock halfway on, boxers, and a white button-up shirt that he couldn't seem to button up. He was in zombie mode, left hand fumbling clumsily with buttons, right hand trying to brush his teeth.
Rachmaninoff's vocalise was stuck in his head. Soy perezoso, he sighed, eyelids drooping further, no quiero hacer nada….He looked in the mirror blearily. He had a curl of hair sticking up. Soy un desast-
The bathroom door swung open
-banging Christopher on the forehead.
re...
There was a second of silence, where the only thing heard was the door making a Doinging sound as it vibrated from the collision. Christopher's head panged viciously.
"Oh,"a boy said dully as he stuck his head of black hair through the door. He stared at his victim with large grey eyes.
Christopher's brows pinched. This kid...He took the toothbrush out of his mouth and turned to face the boy to say something. " Uh…"
He stared at the boy.
Wait.
Okay, so long explanation short, for Christopher, these kinds of moments were not uncommon. It happened all the time, randomly. He could be standing somewhere and space out, and then when he zoned back in he might get confused. Sometimes he would be talking to someone and call them the name of someone from his previous life who looked similar. Sometimes he spoke the wrong language. When he was going places, sometimes he forgot where he was going and where he lived, and sometimes he walked to a house that in one life had been his, but in that life wasn't. Toto, is this Kansas? Or is this Zimbabwe?
Christopher was still holding the toothbrush, boxers hanging off skinny hipbones, eyelids drooping with sleep. "Who are you?"
Silence.
The boy gaped, then burst out laughing. It was a kind of sardonic laugh, with wide grey eyes, and it ended in a sardonic looking smirk. "Nice one, Pettigrew," he said.
They stared at each other.
"Uh," Christopher said.
The boy's face melted. "...You can't be serious."
A second pause.
"Oh-right, YOU'RE Sirius," Christopher exclaimed, pointing his toothbrush at the boy.
The boy was gaping for real.
There was silence in the bathroom. Christopher shrugged, washed his toothbrush, and spit out in the sink. "See you," he said, thinking he was being pretty nice this morning, actually greeting people.
Good job, he thought to himself as he walked out of the bathroom. He was feeling pretty satisfied. He remembered what life/universe he was in and what the kid's name was in under 10 seconds. Huh. Well. Not bad, he thought, nodding, not too shabby.
.
.
.
8:15 am.
Sirius Orion Black was standing in the bathroom, in his pajamas, alone, staring after a boy that literally came out of nowhere, cared about nothing, and his eyes widened and as Christopher Pettigrew brushed past him. Their sleeves touched, and Sirius felt a cold whooshing through him like he'd been sucker punched.
What?
He turned after Christopher but nothing came out of his mouth.
He -what?
It was a strange moment of absolute shock, shock so sudden he blinked and he had to swallow heavy. He forgot me, Sirius realized. And his fingers crawled and danced and squeezed into his palms.
It was…
Upsetting.
(because we just met yesterday and how come he doesn't like me, and well I didn't like him but isn't he supposed to like me, and aren't I funny and he only likes James, and this isn't supposed to be the way Hogwarts goes, but I thought we were going to be friends)
It was a shock. These people weren't his family or his relatives, Sirius realized with a cold start. Sirius had been spoiled before, he'd been lectured before, but he'd never been forgotten before. And the boy hadn't hated him for his family, and he hadn't been picking a fight, and he had looked at Sirius so blankly, and with a harsh swallow, Sirius realized that Hogwarts was different-no, Slytherin would've been the same, people trying to kiss up to him, people always looking at him, people- that Gryffindor was different.
(Or, as he would later realize, maybe, that boy is just different)
He forgot me. No, stupid, you're being stupid, Sirius told himself as he stared at himself in the mirror, it's a joke, he's joking, no bloody way he could've forgotten I mean yeah we only met yesterday, but I know his name! We're roommates for Merlin's sake! And okay so maybe I wasn't that friendly or anything, but even if I was a jerk, he couldn't have forgotten, that doesn't make any sense and, and- but he couldn't stop thinking about it. The doubt was there.
(no one cares about you they're all fake acting liars)
He frowned.
.
.
.
The first day of classes, when everyone started to do magic, it was like he was being pulled apart at the seams. He couldn't breathe. It was horrible. Their magics became stringy and goopy gigantic blobs- overwhelming. He blinked and he saw it, colors, dizzy. He was pretty sure he'd passed out.
Christopher came to when the the lesson ended. He waited for every single person to leave. His head felt light, like it was bobblehead filled with air and his neck was like a plastic stick holding it up. He felt like his legs were rubber and his stomach was so tightly clenched he could feel a soreness, an ache in his hips and his stomach. He peeled himself out of the chair and realized he'd sweated all over it. Nice. Great. He dipped out of the classroom before Flitwick could see him.
Then he saw her.
He stuck to Lily like a snapped rubber band. He stood next to her, and it took her all of five seconds to realize he was sort of at her shoulder but looking away.
Lily turned and made a surprised noise. "Chris!"
"'Ello to you to," Christopher said, hand falling instinctively on her poofy head.
She looked up at him and her face lit up. Ah yes, he thought idly, Lily had these large green eyes and was looking at him rather like a guinea pig. And goddammned were guinea pigs the cutest things Christopher had ever seen.
(Could he get a guinea pig in this life? God please god)
The girls were giggling like crazy.
"See you at lunch," said one of the girls, with long brown hair. Then the group of three girls wandered off giggling together.
"Looks like the friends thing went over well," Christopher said as they walked away.
"...Yeah…." Lily sounded like a dying puppy. Wilting shoulders first.
What a horrible liar, Christopher thought.
"Sooo…" Christopher said, diverting the topic. "How's the weather."
Lily was so busy staring at her shoes that she didn't hear.
Christopher sighed, and walked to stand in her path. If he hadn't grabbed her shoulders, she would've walked right into him.
"I just…" Lily looked down. "We're friends right?" She looked at him with big eyes.
"...Yeah," Christopher said, wondering what he was getting himself into. "Sure."
"Well," Lily said. "I made a big mistake," Lily said, very sadly, head hanging.
"Well," Christopher said. "It couldn't have been that bad," he mused. "They were walking with you, right? And laughing."
"Giggling," Lily said sadly. "That's 'cause they like you."
"They giggle because they like you," Christopher repeated, a little confused.
"No, they giggle 'cause they like you," Lily said, peeking up from her hair.
"Ohhhh," Christopher said lazily. "Oh," He scratched his head. "Uh….okay." He cleared his throat. "Okay, so moving on...er moving backwards…" He stopped walking and stood in front of Lily.
Lily looked at him. "What?" With innocent eyes.
"Your mistake?" Christopher prompted. "What's the mistake?"
Lily gasped. "Oh yeah! Err…." she trailed off, looking away uneasily. "Dasfmkdmf," she murmured something unintelligible into her shoulder.
"Can't hear you," Christopher said.
Lily pouted.
Christopher sighed and let his hands rest on both of her shoulders. "Oi, look at me," he said. She pouted more, but met his eye, shiftily. "Okay. If you made a mistake, or whatever, you can tell me. Everyone's making mistakes, you know, it's the first day of school, everyone makes mistakes."
"Er…" Lily looked down. Bit her lip.
"You don't have to tell me," Christopher said, "if you don't want to." But you did bring it up, he thought, so I'm assuming you want to tell me.
"Errrrrrrrr." Lily bit her lip more.
Christopher sighed, and started to walk away. "Well, then I'm sure-"
"-So now I'm pretty sure they're pretending to like me but they don't actually like me, because I'm really really weird, and I don't know what to do!" Lily burst.
Christopher backpedaled. "Okay, slow down Little Lady, how'd we get to there?"
"It's a long story! No, it's short," Lily said, shaking her head furiously. "But it's sooo embarrassing.." she said, covering her face. "I can't tell it!"
"Please do," Christopher said.
"Okay," Lily said, nodding to herself, and looked up determinedly. "So we were in the dorm, right, and we were all trying to get to know each other... so we said we were gonna do introductions or something."
Christopher nodded. "Okay."
"And Mary said she liked to draw, and Alice said she liked to sing, and then Marlene said she liked boys, so I said I liked football."
Christopher scratched his head. "As in, kick the ball football, yeah?" He'd been in too many countries not to ask.
Lily nodded. "Yeah! You know it, right!" Her eyes lit up.
"...Yeah," Christopher said.
"Right! Of course you know it!" Lily pouted. "You know, they said, what is football! They didn't know at all, never heard of it, they said."
"Wizards and witches," Christopher sighed.
"Are you muggleborn?" Lily's head snapped to him.
"Half," he said. Well, according to records, anyway. He blinked and realized Lily was looking at him confused. "Uh…" he said, scratching his cheek. "One parent magical, one parent not," he said.
"Ohhhhh," Lily said. "I'm muggleborn," she said, happily. I'm random! Randomly magical. That's what my parents say anyway. Isn't that cool?"
Christopher blinked. "...Yeah," he said. Oh boy, he thought dryly, that attitude wouldn't last very long here. Apparently, the poor kid hadn't encountered any blood purists yet. Haha...jerks.
"Anyway," Lily said, "they didn't know what football was, and so, I asked, how do they not know football? And Marlene laughed and said, none of us know it, so you must be making it up." Lily frowned. "And I got a little mad, of course, because I love football, and lots of people know football. So I said I would show them."
"Oh?" Christopher raised a brow.
"Here's the bad part." Lily groaned.
"Oi,oi, you're almost there. You were doing good. " Christopher patted her head.
Lily straightened up, determined once more. "And then I said we should play sometime, and everyone was asking how do they play, so I said okay, I can show you-" She stopped abruptly and turned to Christopher. "Okay, so first please don't tell anyone this," she rushed.
"I promise," Christopher said.
"So I ran at the ball and I fell over it, like over it, onto my stomach and it hurt kind of bad." Lily rubbed her stomach.
"Ouch," Christopher said, eyebrows rising. He was a little concerned about the state of his human lifesaver, given that she appeared to be physically unstable. Nobody said anything about this in the books. Only about Lily's nice green eyes, and how she was good at potions, and some drama with Snape and blah blah, all this nice romantic hoogabaloo. None of this klutzy awkward eleven year old Lily in front of him right now.
"No no, I'm not usually clutzy," Lily sighed, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "But I was really nervous, you see."
"Ahhhhh," Christopher said and nodded. He could see that. She was definitely a nervous person. "Well, that's not so bad," he said.
"That's not the bad part," Lily said.
Oh boy, Christopher thought.
"I know," Lily said, frowning along and nodding. "It was really very bad. Anyway," she shook her head. "And so, after that, I said, let me try again, because I got very nervous, right? Even more nervous than before. I really wanted them to like me, so I thought I'll kick it really good this time and they'll like me then, so I ran and gave it a really good kick."
"Okay."
Lily inhaled deeply.
Christopher waited.
"-AndthenithitMarleneintheface," Lily cried.
Christopher startled. "What? Who?"
"The really pretty blonde girl," Lily said.
"Okay... so we hit Barbie in the face, and is that it," Christopher said, wanting to laugh but trying not to.
"No," Lily said.
Christopher's eyebrows were on the verge of crawling into his hairline.
"So, the ball bounced off her face and then it flew like this," Lily very determinedly reenacted with her body in a curve, "and BAHM!"
She threw her arms out and whacked an unsuspecting Christopher in the face.
"Gah!" He dropped to the ground in a crouch.
"Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!" Lily rushed to the ground and hugged him. "Are you okay?"
Actually, he was internally amazed, because her magic was currently both frizzing with nerves and panic, and hovering over his back like a weirdly comforting blanket. Aside from his aching face, it felt pretty nice. Saving him from what would probably be an instant panic attack.
"What was the bahm for," Christopher groaned. He just wanted to know what he got hit in the face for.
"It was for empha...empha...elephants," Lily said concernedly. "Are you okay."
"Elephants? What...The emphasis?" Christopher groaned.
"Yeah! The emephemis."
"For what? Emphasis for what?" Christopher groaned.
"For the end of the story," Lily said apologetically. "I am so sorry. I wanted to say THE END, but then I thought that sounds too aggressive right, like too angry, and I didn't want to sound angry, so I sound bahm instead. Oh god." Lily covered her face and turned away. "Oh no...what was I thinking? I am so sorry! I hit you in the face! God! I'm horrible!"
Okay. His human lifesaver was officially bat bags insane. And a complete airhead. He could no longer imagine James Potter and Lily Evans together without world apocalypse coming to mind. No wonder Voldemort came to kill them and their child, he thought. Their combined airheaded wildness would end the world.
"Am I a bad person," Lily said sadly, clutching at her hair.
Oh no...Christopher sighed. He was contemplating how doomed he was in this life, that his lifesaver with her nice nice magic was apparently a hazard to this world. Well, when she was nervous at least.
Well, he thought to himself, staring at the wall. He could work with this. This was workable. Yes, this Lily was a klutz, an airhead, and actually kind of amusing. And her magic was good. Yes, he could definitely work with this.
"My fellow lightsaber," Christopher said, throwing his arm around Lily's shoulder. Her magic actually made it feel nice to stand close to her. Hm. Interesting. "It is time you accept the truth."
Lily looked at him. "The truth?"
Christopher deadpanned."You're weird."
She gaped. "I'm what?"
"You're weird." Christopher grinned. "Join the crowd." He drew his hand across the sky like a rainbow. " We have cookies."
"You do?" Lily gaped. "Can I have some?"
"Well, we have to make them, but furthermore we must plan," he said.
"Plan what?" Lily asked.
"Your world domination plan," Christopher said, leading her down the hall with his arm around her shoulder. "Naturally. How else do people make friends?"
"And also," Christopher said, "we have to play football sometime."
Lily's face lit up.
Meanwhile…
"Who is that girl?!" James whispered, eyes wide. He snapped his head back to Sirius with wide eyes. "He's talking to a girl!"
"Maybe he's flirting," Sirius said and smirked. "Is she ugly?"
"All girls are ugly," James said with a huff. "We're a crew! Of Mates! For Life!" James said with emphasis. "We don't like girls! Ever! Ever!" He started to pace back and forth.
"He put his arm around her," Sirius said as he took a peek. He snickered. "Oooohhh."
James gasped. "No!" He stuck his head around the corner. Sirius had to pull him back when James almost fell over. "But...But…" he sputtered.
"What," Sirius said, now getting amused.
"Why are they so friendly," James hissed as he bent his head around the wall again.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oi, mate, don't we have class to get to? It starts in what…10 minutes?"
"They're gone," James said, and exhaled heavily. Very heavily.
"Thank Merlin," Sirius grumbled.
"What do we do!" James yelled, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders and shaking him. "Maybe," James said to himself, "he's just shy. He's shy and that's why he likes her better. No!" James yelled. "He doesn't like her better, he likes us the best! We're besties! We're mates!"
"Can we go now," Sirius deadpanned.
"We'll get him back," James said firmly to himself.
"Okay, now can you stop hugging me," Sirius said. James had, in the midst of his panicking, squeezed the life out of Sirius.
"I love you," James said, smiling.
Sirius punched him.
.
.
The broom, Christopher mused, was goddamned ridiculous. He thought they all looked ridiculous too, with a stick between their legs. He wondered about the choice of the broomstick; sure, it was an aerodynamic shape with the thinness and smoothness of the broom handle, but what of the end of the broomstick? He supposed the bristles could be used to decelerate, to cause sudden stoppage so as to change direction...Would the bristles get soggy if it rained? Would it become a mop? Could wizards fly on mops? Or even better, Swiffer?
Well, whatever.
Everything Madame Hooch said sounded inappropriate to him. He stared at her with a blank face. He boredly wondered if she was laughing on the inside about how many horrid "broom" puns she could make.
"Psst," James waved for his attention. "Aren't you excited!" His eyes lit up.
"Uh," Christopher said. He thought about himself on a broomstick. "Not particularly."
"Boys, I can see that you are very excited, but there is no reason for your broom to be sticking up in the air like that," Hooch said to James and Christopher. "That's not proper standard. You must control yourselves."
Christopher choked, and covered it with a cough. Madame seemed to think he was having difficulties. "Mr. Pettigrew, there is no need to be concerned. The equipment may be old but it is not damaged. It is well-functional. You must ride it properly. It may seem long and rather hard and uncomfortable right now, but it will eventually fit comfortably between your legs. It is all a matter of getting used to the feeling."
Christopher stared.
"Lower your broom, Potter," she said. "It is still raised too high."
James pouted and lowered his broom a little. "I know how to do this," he whined.
"No, Mr. Potter, you are a young and inexperienced flier. Now grip the shaft," Madame Hooch was saying.
Christopher was starting to wonder if this was secretly a Sex Ed class. What if this was Hogwarts way of having a Sex Ed class without having to go through the parents? Was this the wizarding version of the birds and the bees? Was this a Sex Ed class taught in innuendos and everyone knew except him?
"Are you gripping your shaft, Mr. Pettigrew?" Hooch said as she stood in front of him.
Christopher's eyebrows slowly raised.
"Not too tightly," she said, "but firmly. You musn't be nervous. But you always musn't grip too tightly, or the broom may jerk in your hands."
"The brooms seem very sensitive," Christopher remarked airily. The Sex Ed theory was starting to look pretty realistic.
"Very sensitive," Madame Hooch nodded seriously. "Mr. Pettigrew, your grip is still too lax."
Christopher sighed, and gripped the broom.
"Closer to the base," she said.
Whoa, lady. Hold up.
"Oh," he said, "kay."
"That ought to feel much better," she said. "Wait, you mustn't allow it to sag like that," she said. "Keep it between your legs! Clench your thighs."
Well, he thought as he stood in the middle of a field by a castle with a bunch of eleven year olds, an old lady, and clenched a broomstick between his legs, I guess this is something I haven't done before.
.
.
.
Sirius called them the Series of Siriusly Unfortunate Events.
Starting with the bathroom incident where Chris forgot his name. Then, the time it was the first Charms class and James wasn't in the class. Sirius took for granted Chris would sit with him because they were "mates", but no! Chris came in with that stupid redheaded girl and didn't even look at him. He left Sirius sitting there with an empty seat next to him like a loser! Which then, of course, loser Lupin of all people, came and sat in. Sirius spent the entire class glaring at Chris, but Chris didn't even look! Jerk.
Then, one morning, Sirius was annoyed. James had spent a grand thirty minutes trying to convince Christopher Pettigrew to get out of bed and come to breakfast with them. James had opened the curtains to Christopher's bed, and Christopher just pulled the blanket over his head more and slept on. Or whatever he was doing. He couldn't be sleeping! No one could sleep through James running around the dorm, literally attempting to jump off the walls (didn't go so well), singing princess songs about beautiful mornings and rise and shine.
The other loser kid (what was his name again? Luper? Loopy?) had ducked and ran out of the room after James glared at him in the bathroom that morning.
"Let's go," Sirius kept saying, gradually getting more and more irritated. Finally, Sirius sighed, opened the dorm door, and said loudly, "He's never going to come, James. Let's go." And as if on cue, specifically to prove him wrong, Christopher Pettigrew, after thirty minutes of absolute silence, said at the exact same time as Sirius had swore he wasn't coming, "Yeah yeah, I'm coming," and rolled out of bed completely dressed with messy bed hair that somehow looked natural on him.
As Sirius gaped at him, Christopher walked out the door, past Sirius who was still holding the door open. "Thanks, mate," Christopher said lazily as he passed Sirius.
Sirius had half a mind to move his foot and let the door slam shut on the back of the guy's head.
Days passed, and the string of irritating Chris-incidents only seemed to increase.
Sirius couldn't count the number of times Christopher walked right past Sirius as if not noticing him, then when Sirius got mad, Christopher forgot his name, all the time! And it was so annoying, because it wasn't as though Christopher forgot everyone's name! Christopher always remembered James' name and Lily's name, and even Lupin's name, but when it came to Sirius, ti was like Christopher was going out of his way to be annoying and piss Sirius off.
So what if he doesn't like me, Sirius thought to himself angrily. Well, whatever! I don't like him either!
Sirius decided that he was really starting to hate the guy.
"I don't like him," he said to James one day, when Christopher was in the room. He was staring at Christopher's back as the boy messed around in his beat-up looking suitcase. He wanted Christopher to hear him. "He's annoying."
Christopher didn't pause, didn't show any signs of hearing.
"He's-
All of a sudden, Christopher paused.
Sirius thought, got him, and smirked.
Then Christopher ducked under the bed, and squirmed out holding something in his hands. He tilted his head to the side, then made a noise of a hum of some sort. Christopher stood, and walked over to them.
"What do you want," Sirius said, provocatively. What are you gonna do now, loser?
James watched, seeming curious enough to let Sirius do what he wanted.
"Oh...uh…" Christopher paused. "Uh…" There was a pause. His eyes darted down, and Sirius noted that Christopher was looking at the book cover, lower left. "...Sirius." He cleared his throat. "Here, your book," Christopher said. "It was under my bed." He handed the book to Sirius.
It was his missing Charms textbook.
Sirius took the book, and looked at where Christopher had looked. Sirius Orion Black, was scrawled across the cover.
Sirius gaped. "You just read my name off the corner of the book! You forgot my name again!"
"I'm sorry," Christopher said, sounding not very sorry, rubbing the back of his head. "Anyway, here's your book."
Christopher was about to walk away, but Sirius had had enough.
"Stop pretending to forget my name," Sirius growled.
"What?" Christopher blinked. He rubbed the back of his head. "I do that?"
"This is like the fiftieth time!" Sirius yelled.
"Oh," Christopher said. "Really?"
"YES," Sirius growled.
"Oh," Christopher said. He rubbed his chin.
"What's your problem, "Sirius growled.
"Oh," Christopher said. Then he blinked. "Are you mad?" he said, eyebrows raising.
Of course I'm mad, you idiot! Sirius thought to himself, grinding his teeth. "No," Sirius spat.
"Oh," Christopher said, frowning. "Well. Don't worry," he said. "It's not you, it's me. Sorry."
Sirius stared at him.
"I just get lost, you know." He rubbed the back of his head.
"Lost? Lost where?" Sirius said incredulously.
"Oh, you know... the road of life," Christopher said airily. "It's very long, you know, very windy." He drew a windy path with his finger. "Lots of trees. No signs...You know. " He shrugged. "Very easy to get lost."
"Are you kidding me."
"One day you'll understand. A little," Christopher said. Then paused, frowning. "Maybe." He patted Sirius on the shoulder, as if Sirius were a dog to be pitied, and then walking away to climb into his bed.
James blinked, and Sirius had never been more infuriated in his life.
"I hate him," Sirius swore, throwing his book on the floor angrily. "I bloody hate him."
But, just as Sirius had decided that he very firmly hated all bits and pieces of Christopher Pettigrew's existence, then came the most surprising Event. The most confusing and the most infuriating event of all the Siriusly Unfortunate Events starring Christopher Pettigrew.
It was on the way to the Great Hall.
Sirius, James and Christopher were walking through the hall for breakfast when a trio of Slytherin boys stood in front of them. "Black," said one of the boys, "traitor... blood traitor," hissing.
Sirius tensed. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Sirius was now getting used to getting insults spat at him from the Slytherins, ever since that stupid letter from his mother yelling at him in the Great Hall. Merlin, it was awful. Now all the Slytherins saw it as free reign to insult the heir of the Black House.
James had been with him before, as Sirius and James went everywhere together, but Christopher who often disappeared, had never been there when something like this happened before, and Sirius felt a whoop of shame and embarrassment through him. What would he think?
Seeing Sirius look down, James' fist clenched and he was about to step forward and pummel them, when suddenly, James and Sirius were looking at the back of a brown head of hair.
"Good God, go home," Christopher said dully. "Or at least back to your room." He had his book bag on his shoulder, hands in pockets. His chestnut brown hair was a little tousled. His eyelids fell low over his eyes. He looked like everything was a bore. Half-asleep, dull. He was skinny as a bone bag but the way he walked it was like his sneakers were slippers. He walked like he was in underclothes in his own basement, such was the ease and carelessness with which he wandered the halls.
"Who are you," the boy in the center of the trio sneered as he stepped forward.
"Good question," Christopher said dryly.
The boy then waited for an answer. None came. When he realized that Christopher was done answering, the boy frowned.
"Get out of my way," he said. "I'm not talking to you." When Christopher just stared blankly, the boy waved his wand around. "I'll curse you!"
"Wow," Christopher said slowly, not sounding wowed at all. "You're very aggressive."
The boy growled, and his finger flung out to point at Sirius. "Fine then! I'll have you know, he's not worth being friends with! He's a blood traitor! A disgrace to his family!"
Sirius swallowed heavily. He felt his stomach clench and a weak feeling in his legs. Don't listen don't listen don't listen.
"Oh my," Christopher gasped dramatically. "Santa found a bad boy!"
What? Sirius frowned.
"-what?" the boy sputtered, mirroring Sirius' thoughts.
Christopher snorted. "Oh, come on," Christopher said, sounding exasperated. "He didn't even do anything yet. It's like, what-the third day or school or something?"
"Third week," James whispered to Christopher.
"Oh," Christopher said. "Actually then, did he?" Christopher looked behind him at Sirius. "Did you?"
"I didn't do anything," Sirius grumbled sourly.
"See, he says he didn't do anything," Christopher turned back around and said.
"He has done everything," the boy hissed.
"Uh…." Christopher said. "Everything? Already?"
"No," the boy hissed. "Since long ago! Are you insane?"
"Okay…" Christopher raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, do you have a long history then?"
"What?"
"I mean," Chris said, shrugging helplessly. "Here I was, man, thinking you just met, but apparently you've known each other your whole lives or something-
"I don't even know who that is," Sirius muttered to Christopher.
"Okay…" Christopher said, "so you never met. I see." He nodded, then shook his head. "Naaah, actually I don't see, nevermind," Chris sighed.
"We've been at parties together!" The boy was getting more and more angry. He turned to Chris. "How can you not see, he's a blood traitor!" The boy turned to the other Slytherin boys behind him. "Right?"
They nodded furiously with wide eyes.
"See," the boy spat. "Sirius Black is a disgusting blood traitor. You don't want to be seen with him. Just letting you know."
Sirius moved to step forward. James growled. Christopher held out a hand though, for them to stop. Sirius blinked.
Is he…?
"Who's blood," Chris said to the boy.
"His family blood!"
"Are you in his family," Chris said, sighing.
"No, but-"
"Are you his fiance?" Chris said.
"No, but-"
"Are you Regina George," Chris said flatly.
"No."
"Are you in any way directly connected to his blood," Chris said.
"Yes -"
"So you got a blood donation."
"No, but-"
"Okay so...he doesn't even know you, and you're not part of his family, and you're not going to be part of his family ever," Chris said.
"Yes but-"
"And you're sure you're not Regina George," Chris said.
"What? Who is that?"
"So...you're getting paid," Chris said.
"What? No."
"Then why the fuck are you in the middle of the hallway? At 8 a.m. in the morning, rise and shine, shouting insults, boy, I almost thought you were unionized labor," Chris said.
"Except there is no unionized labor," Chris said and sighed. "We use slaves." Chris rubbed his forehead, seemingly stressed. Then he looked up. "Anyway, can you get out of the way," Chris said face first to the boy.
"Don't you know who I am!" the boy seethed.
Chris stared at the boy, and frowned. "Team Rocket?"
The boy gaped.
"Look, kid, I'm sorry." Chris held up his hands and shrugged. "I dunno who the fuck you are. Obviously you're not very notable in canon." At the kid's aghast face, Chris waved it away. "What, it's not my fault, blame JK Rowling." Chris said all of this very dryly, with the most blank face James and Sirius had ever seen.
"You…." the boy growled.
"Wow," Chris said, strolling right past the boy. "Tween hormones. Are there magical hormones, I wonder." Now he was talking to himself. "Well it seems that magic tends to manifest and is affected by emotions hence outbursts of accidental magic when a wizard or witch feels panicked, is magic affected by hormones, do hormones affect magic, " he mumbled to himself, completely not noticing the boy he had left behind in the hallway.
"How dare you!" the boy yelled. He seemed to get angrier and angrier as Christopher appeared to not notice him. "Urrrr…" The boy burst. "I'll get you back!" And he stomped angrily away, having completely forgotten Sirius. "Come on!" he yelled at the two goons following him. They disappeared down the end of the hall.
Sirius blinked, staring at Christopher's back, momentarily frozen. Did he just…?
Defend me…?
James and Sirius stood still in place, until James jumped into action.
"Did you see that," James whispered.
Slowly he grinned ear to ear, grabbed Sirius shoulders. "He is soooo bloody awesome! Wicked! Wicked, mate! Wicked, wicked!"
Sirius was speechless. How could Christopher Pettigrew be so horrible one moment and so...who even knew the next? No one had ever stood up for Sirius like that before. James would growl and jump to punch or draw wands, and that was really great, but James was always rowdy, James was always ready to fight or kick or get attention.
But Christopher was so lazy and and didn't talk, didn't fight, and never cared and never did anything, and so for him step up and do something like that, it was, it was….
Sirius wanted to hate him but...then he did something like that?
Sirius swallowed. He felt a little…
Warm.
When they approached the Great Hall, Sirius let James walk ahead to them, and slowly dropped back. James was starving, apparently, and ran straight for the doors. Sirius stopped by Christopher, who was just kind of standing a good distance from the doors, not moving.
"Oi…" Sirius said to Christopher.
Christopher stopped talking to himself about statistics or data analysis or something ridiculous like that and turned around slowly. He blinked. "Hm?"
"About before… I…"
"Oh, that," Christopher said slowly. "Oh," he looked at the ceiling. "Don't worry about that, he was blocking the hall, you know just doing some public service," Christopher said, and yawned.
Sirius looked down. "I just...I just wanted to say…" He swallowed. "Thanks…"
Christopher nodded. And stared off into the distance.
Sirius stood there in silence. He began to feel awkward. Twitched. "Um," Sirius said.
Christopher startled. "Oh wait, sorry, what?" Christopher said. "Sorry, did you say something? I was...yeah."
Sirius gaped. Yeah? YEAH? What the hell did that mean, yeah?! "Did you even hear what I said before!"
"What?" Christopher sighed, looking half-annoyed. "Sorry, I was...thinking about something else. You know."
Sirius couldn't believe it. "What?" he exclaimed again. "No way."
"Well, if it was that important, can't you just say it again. I'm listening now," Christopher said.
Sirius suppressed a growl. His eyebrow twitched. "Never mind," Sirius spat out, and pushed past Christopher.
Christopher stared at the Great Hall doors, sighed, rubbed the side of his temple, and walked away down the hall.
At breakfast, Sirius would feel a little bad, later, staring at the door, and then the empty seat James always saved for Christopher, wondering why Christopher didn't come to eat breakfast. Then again, Christopher never seemed hungry anyway, and skipped breakfast a lot...but today he had gotten out of bed to come!
Is it my fault? Sirius wondered, frowning. But then he was mad, because why didn't Christopher come after him? When someone storms away from you angrily, isn't it common sense you're supposed to run after them and apologize! Why was Christopher Pettigrew so bloody hard to understand?!
Sirius growled.
"You look mad," James said with wide eyes.
"I am mad!" Sirius yelled.
"I'm sorry!" James eeked. "Here, you can have my strawberry," he said and proceeded to shove his fork of half eaten strawberry blindly in Sirius face.
Smearing strawberry all over Sirius face.
"I hate him," was all Sirius said, not even seeming to notice the strawberry.
"I'm sorry!" James said. " I didn't mean to. Well actually I did. Maybe. No, but I-"
"No. I hate him," Sirius said. "I hate Chris."
"Oh," James said. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh."
Sirius glared.
"Well. It's normal to be jealous of your competition," James said with a shrug.
"What competition."
"For my hand in marriage," James said as he shoveled food into his mouth, like he was talking about the weather.
Sirius, despite himself, snorted. "You're horrible," he said, and and flicked a bean at James' face.
"Oi!"
Sirius grinned. And dumped his plate on James, yelling, "Food fight!"
And that was how they ended up with detention for the next three months.
.
.
.
Christopher could do magic on his own all so fine. Doing it in classroom, he felt like he was being violated. It was gross. He felt a shiver down his spine. He put his head down on the desk and tried to close his eyes.
It was like some sort of anxiety, he thought tiredly to himself, trying to bury his face in his arm. James was sitting next to him, and Sirius was glaring at him. Their presences were at least a little familiar. Even if Sirius' aura grated on his like sparked electricity, at least they weren't vomit inducing patterns of tie dye rubbing against each other like a drunk mosh pit like everyone else was.
James laid his head down next to Christopher, and Christopher poked an eye open. "Yeah?" Christopher said.
"Hi," James said. James frowned, and his cheek was pressed against the desk and his big brown eyes were staring into Christopher's and he looked earnestly concerned. "You look sad," James determined.
"No," Christopher laughed tiredly. "You look sad," Christopher said, feeling a little soft. James looked uncharacteristically worried. James' face was uncomfortably close to his, but he was also find of blocking out everyone else with his magic. It softened the noise.
James seemed to be examining him deeper. Brown eyes trying to see deeper into him.
"I'm just tired. Don't worry," Christopher said. "Go study."
"Did you sleep at all last night?" James was surprisingly perceptive. And direct. "You didn't sleep at all," he decided. "You don't normally sleep well, do you? This isn't new, is it?"
"Congratulations, Sherlock," Christopher dragged, eyelids drooping. He exhaled heavily.
"Oh…" James frowned deeper. "Mum says that's not good for you. I'm sorry if we bothered you yesterday. You should go to bed."
Christopher said, "Don't worry about it."
James continued to lay there with his head on the desk next to Chris, facing him, thinking, it seemed. Or maybe just watching. With his ear pressed to the desk, the classroom was quiet.
"Are you scared?" James said quietly.
Christopher blinked.
"Of other people," James said, staring him dead in the eye. "Are you scared?"
"Mr. Potter! Mr. Pettigrew!" McGonagall's yells startled Christopher. He bolted up in the seat and for whatever reason, the sight of the tall skinny woman with bony fingers and a wand smacking into her hand, looming over the desk, and all he could see was
"Mother." Christopher shrunk.
The bell rang.
Sirius did something, with a spell, and a poof of smoke went in the air. Sirius laughed loudly, and the classroom erupted in laughter and squeals, and when Mcgonagall turned around, Peter "Christopher" Pettigrew had vanished, and James Potter was frowning very deeply.
She would have to keep an eye on those boys, she thought to herself later that day.
.
.
.
Christopher stormed into the dorm and tossed his wand on the ground.
"Excuse me…" Remus said in a small voice. "I, um… I just wanted to know if you know… the-the homework for...for…"
His magic felt horrible.
Mother mother mother
"What," Christopher bit. He went to his bed and turned his back to Remus.
Remus was saying something, maybe, but Christopher couldn't hear it. He wanted to close his eyes, suck in a breath. Scratchy agitated itchy. Hay. Remus' goddamned werewolf magic was leaking like sour pus, Christopher thought. It was itchy and unstable and a weird mix of yellow and other gook; it felt sickly and it was scratchy as prickly fibers in some places where the softness and roughness wouldn't even out. And it rubbed right against him, a warning, a feral beast rubbing saliva wet back against him, and Remus was looking at him.
Like a wet snout up his shirt.
"Could you stop," Christopher growled, turning around. "It feels like a goddamned..." He cut off suddenly, clutching his head. His brows creased; Remus thought he looked like he was in a lot of pain.
"W-what?" Remus stuttered.
"Am I the only person that feels this?" Christopher asked, looking at Remus all of a sudden. "How can no one else notice?" Christopher's voice cracked. "Don't you people notice this, doesn't it bother you at all? Or all of you just oblivious?"
"What?" Remus stuttered. He stepped closer.
Something in Christopher snapped.
"Your magic, goddamit!" Christopher yelled. He was breathing heavily. Remus was too close. His magic was too close. Too close. Christopher stumbled back. "Your magic," it was almost whimper, of pain, as he clutched his head.
First Remus was confused. Then his face turned white.
Christopher crawled into bed and yanked the curtains closed.
(not chill, so not chill, aye dios mio, so not chill, aw god fuck it) He stuffed the pillow over his head.
.
.
.
He knows, Remus thought. And trembled. He knows.
(He can't know? How could he know. He just said-your magic- Does he know? But he can feel it…) Remus swallowed and felt his body sink into the sheets that felt like they were strangling, and his magic was curling in sick knots, and he wanted his magic to go away too, he was sorry, but the wolf was anxious and he was anxious and and (but he can feel it…)
Remus turned on his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.