Peas and Carrots
By: Paper Crane
A/N Before you start reading this, I want to say a couple of things. First, this is my first story. I'm quite nervous about posting it, so please don't judge to harshly. Second, I am 100 percent American, and this story takes place in England. So any thing I have wrong about England in here, please forgive. Third, I've made the British kids in here jerks. This is just to add to the story, I don't think British people are jerks, so please don't be offended. Anything else? Yes, to avoid confusion, this is from the point of view of an original character named Ivy Spencer. It takes place before the Marauders went to Hogwarts. The Epilogue is about thirty years later, and is a letter to Ivy's daughter, Hope.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own Ivy, Hope, and the mob of angry British children. Everything else belongs to someone else. The title is from Forest Gump, by the way.
*~*
I was eight years old when my father's job transferred our family to England. Until then, I had lived in a tiny island village in Maine, where every body knew everyone else, and you didn't need to lock your doors at night.
I was not very happy about moving. Everything I knew was on that island, and I was not interested in moving into some foreign country where people used words like "git" and "gob" and "telly". Plus, I had heard British people talking on the TV and radio. Their accent was so thick you could barely understand what they were saying!
The main reason I didn't want to move, though, was because I was extremely shy. Our little island had no school at all, so we had a choice between a forty mile commute to a mainland school, or home school. My parents opted for home. That was fine by me, I stayed to my self most of the time anyway. But we would be in a bigger town in England, and I would be going to a public school.
The night before we left, my parents and I slept in sleeping bags in the bare living room. Before I went to bed, my mother braided my hair. This was a tradition we followed every night: she would brush and braid my bright orange hair, and we would talk.
"Mommy, I don't wanna go," I whined as she brushed my hair into two equal parts.
"I don't either baby," She answered.
This confused me. "Then why are you going? Couldn't you just tell daddy to stay here?"
"I could," she started, braiding one side of my hair, "but he really wants that job, and I want him to have it. And even though I don't want to leave, part of me does. It will be a real adventure." She finished the braid and moved onto the other one.
I thought about this. "So, me going to school with other kids, will that be an adventure?"
"Sure will."
I nodded, then whispered out my biggest fear.
"What was that, hun?" my mother asked, finishing up the other braid and turning me around to face her.
"I'm afraid I won't make any friends," I whispered again, looking down.
"Ivy Thomson Spencer, you look at me." I looked up into my mother's face. "You are the nicest, sweetest girl in the entire world. You'll have every kid in that British school lining up to be your friend, don't you worry about that. Now, get some sleep."
"'Kay mom," I said, lying down. "'Night."
Mom sighed. "Sleep well. Don't worry, things will be fine."
I was not that certain
*~*
We moved into a town called Alton. I was immediatly enrolled in the local school.
It was so much different from being home schooled. There were so many people! I usually was silent during class. Now, instead of the other people having the accent, I had one.
I dreaded being called upon to read. I would hurriedly mummble through the selection, trying, but not sucseeding, to curb my acute Maine accent. When I was done, I would hurriedly sit down amidst giggles and people imitating me by dropping their "R's" and double "T's".
So I tried to stay removed from my classmates, but they seemed to find some sport in tormenting me. They would hunt me down at recess, poking fun at everything from my clothes to my accent to my nationality.
I would take refuge in the public library. The librarian there was very kind, and helped me to find some good books. I loved to read, but there had been no library in my old home. So I spent most of my time in that place. It was quite small, really, but I didn't care. I could spend hours there, reading, and no one would bother me.
There was one boy, about my age, who I noticed a lot at the library. I didn't know his name, but he would sit at the table next to mine and read, ignoring me and everything else. He seemed tired to me, there were dark circles under his soft green eyes, and his brown hair hung limply over his forehead.
One day, though, the boy and I were reading peacefully when the silence was shattered by children's voices. A troop of my classmates stormed into the room that I was reading in.
"There she is!" cried one boy, seemingly the leader of the small group of children.
"All right, where is it?" one of them demanded, snatching my book away.
"Wh-where's what?" I stuttered, trying desperately to stay calm.
" My bracelet!" cried a girl. I recognized her as the girl whose desk was next to mine. "I left it on my desk before lunch, and when I came back, it was gone! I know you took it, give it back!"
"I d-didn't take your b-bracelet," I protested, trying vainly to get my book back.
"Don't lie to us, American," another child hissed. "We don't want you here, go back where you came from!"
I was fighting tears when the boy beside me stood up. "Leave her alone!" he commanded. "She didn't take your bracelet, she did!" He pointed to the girl who had called me a liar.
"N-no I did not!" she spluttered, turning red.
"Turn out your pockets, then," my green eyed savior suggested.
The girls's face went even redder " I will not," she insisted looking a bit worried.
"Yeah, Mandy, turn out your pockets," the girl who owned the stolen bracelet said. The girl gulped and ran out of the building, earning her a glare from the librarian. The other children followed.
I turned to the boy who stood up for me, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands. "Th-thanks," I stuttered. "You saved my life."
The boy looked down. 'S'nothing," he mumbled.
"What's your name?"
"Remus, Remus Lupin," he answered, looking up a bit. "Who're you?"
"I'm Ivy Spencer," I answered, and added with the bluntness of an eight year old, "Do you want to be friends?"
He looked up, unsure. "I've never had a friend before," he admitted. "What do I do?"
"It's easy," I explained. "We just, you know, do stuff together. And talk. And, stuff." He nodded. "Okay," he agreed, smiling just a bit. I smiled back. Grabbing my book, I sat down at his table. He sat down next to me uneasily. I smiled again at him, and he grinned. That was just the beginning.
*~*
After that, Remus and me were like peas and carrots. (A/N: I love that movie!) We went everywhere and did everything together. We even had nick-names for each other. He was peas, after his eyes, and I was carrots, after my hair.
After school and on weekends we would always meet at the library and go somewhere. Sometimes, we'd go down to the park and climb trees. Sometimes, we'd go downtown and look at all the little shops. Or sometimes, we'd just stay at the library and read. Whatever we did, we always had a great time.
But something never seemed right. Remus always seemed slightly scared, like he was afraid of me. Or of himself. And once a month, almost on a set pattern, he wouldn't be at school, or at the library. He came up with really silly excuses, like he was in Majorca with his aunt, or he had to watch his brother play rugby. I never believed him, but as it seemed to be a sensitive subject, I tried not to bring it up to him. But one day, a couple of years after we met, my curiosity got the better of me.
We were lying on the grass in the park on a lazy Sunday afternoon. The July sun was shining brightly in the sky, symbolizing the start of summer holidays. We were not looking forward to the end of the summer. I was going to the local high school at the beginning of the next term, and Remus was going away to a boarding school.
"Peas?" I asked, "Where do you go once a month?"
He sat up. "No where," he said, a bit to quickly. I gave him a skeptical look. He sighed.
"I can't lie to you anymore, Carrots. I hate lying to you. But I can't tell you where I go."
This wasn't a good enough explanation for me. "But why can't you tell me, peas?" I whined.
"I-I just, I just can't, Carrots, okay?" He looked at his watch. "It's getting late, I've gotta go. Bye." he got up hurriedly and left.
I got up soon afterwards. This was around the time he was usually gone, I thought. I'll go see where he goes.
After dinner, I snuck out of the house, There was about a half hour till sunset. I ran along the quiet streets tell I got to his house. I climbed up the tree next to his window, something I had done many times before, and peered through his window screen.
Remus was sitting quietly on his bed. "I'm locking the door now, dear," I heard his mother call.
" 'Kay, mum," he answered. His voice sounded hoarse. The door clicked.
"Peas!" I hissed. He jumped and stared at me, horrified.
"Ivy!" He gasped. "You have to get out of here now! The moon's almost out!"
"So?" I asked. "What's the moon got to do with anything?"
"You have to go away. I can't tell you. Just, go, please." he was looking quite panicked now.
"No," I said, stubbornly, "I'm not going to leave until you tell me what's up."
He looked like he was about to cry. "Fine. I'll tell you. I-I'm a-a-a-a- a werewolf." He looked down.
I was amazed. "Peas," I said, "That's the worst excuse you've ever given!" He looked up, surprised. "There's no such thing as werewolves, silly," I explained.
A look of pure horror passed his face. The sun slipped below the horizon, and a full moon took it's place. He let out a low moan. Clutching his stomach, he knelt down. I watched in horror as he began to change in front of my eyes. His legs and arms grew longer. His feet and hands grew back into clawed paws. His nose and ears lengthened. Gray fur grew over his body. A moment later, I was looking at a full grown wolf. He looked at me and growled. I looked back, to stunned to move. His eyes narrowed and mussels tensed. I knew that if he lept for me, the screen wouldn't last long, but still I couldn't move.
He's a werewolf, I thought. My best friend is a monster.
He lunged at the screen. I screamed and launched myself out of the tree. Luckily, a bush broke my fall. I jumped out and flew home. Sobbing, I collapsed in my room, and wouldn't come out for days.
*~*
I spent the rest of the summer at home, trying not to think about Remus. I knew that his being a werewolf was not his fault, and I knew that he had no control over himself when he was in his wolf form, but still, I couldn't forget the way he glared at me. Like he wanted to kill me. I just couldn't bear to see him again.
Finally, three days before school started up again, my mother dragged me out of the house to get some school items. We went to several stores. When we got to the last one, what I was dreading happened. We came face to face with Remus and his mom.
"Doris!" my mom explained to Remus's. "I haven't seen you in ages!" The two quickly got into a conversation about something. Remus and I just stared at each other.
Finally, he whispered, "I'm just here to pick up some shoes. I'm going to Hogwarts, a wizarding school. I'm going to be a wizard. I'll be there all the time, so you won't have to see me." He looked at me. I couldn't say anything, there was a gigantic lump in my throat. Before, I wouldn't have believed him if he said something about wizards, but now, oddly, I did.
Our mothers finished their conversation. "Come along, Remus," his mother commanded. They walked away. Remus did not look back. I watched them go. Finally, I managed to whisper:
"Bye, Peas."
Epilogue
Dear Hope'
It's still a shock for me to think of you as a witch! It's good you're making friends at Hogwarts, that Harry Potter seems nice. Don't you worry about Sirius Black. I'm sure those Dementors (whatever they are) will catch him soon. I hope you are enjoying your classes, even though that potions teacher sounds like a jerk. Keep your chin up, and keep warm. I'll send you a couple of sweaters, Grandma has finally convinced me to learn how to knit! I'll have to teach you how when you get home.
I have to go now, your owl is screeching, I can tell he want a letter to get back to you.
All my love,
Mom
PS Did you mention that one of your teachers is Remus Lupin? Does he have green eyes? If he does, please tell him: Carrots says she's sorry.
THE END
A/N: Like? Hate? Don't care either way? Review and let me know! I just want to know if people are actually reading this.
By: Paper Crane
A/N Before you start reading this, I want to say a couple of things. First, this is my first story. I'm quite nervous about posting it, so please don't judge to harshly. Second, I am 100 percent American, and this story takes place in England. So any thing I have wrong about England in here, please forgive. Third, I've made the British kids in here jerks. This is just to add to the story, I don't think British people are jerks, so please don't be offended. Anything else? Yes, to avoid confusion, this is from the point of view of an original character named Ivy Spencer. It takes place before the Marauders went to Hogwarts. The Epilogue is about thirty years later, and is a letter to Ivy's daughter, Hope.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own Ivy, Hope, and the mob of angry British children. Everything else belongs to someone else. The title is from Forest Gump, by the way.
*~*
I was eight years old when my father's job transferred our family to England. Until then, I had lived in a tiny island village in Maine, where every body knew everyone else, and you didn't need to lock your doors at night.
I was not very happy about moving. Everything I knew was on that island, and I was not interested in moving into some foreign country where people used words like "git" and "gob" and "telly". Plus, I had heard British people talking on the TV and radio. Their accent was so thick you could barely understand what they were saying!
The main reason I didn't want to move, though, was because I was extremely shy. Our little island had no school at all, so we had a choice between a forty mile commute to a mainland school, or home school. My parents opted for home. That was fine by me, I stayed to my self most of the time anyway. But we would be in a bigger town in England, and I would be going to a public school.
The night before we left, my parents and I slept in sleeping bags in the bare living room. Before I went to bed, my mother braided my hair. This was a tradition we followed every night: she would brush and braid my bright orange hair, and we would talk.
"Mommy, I don't wanna go," I whined as she brushed my hair into two equal parts.
"I don't either baby," She answered.
This confused me. "Then why are you going? Couldn't you just tell daddy to stay here?"
"I could," she started, braiding one side of my hair, "but he really wants that job, and I want him to have it. And even though I don't want to leave, part of me does. It will be a real adventure." She finished the braid and moved onto the other one.
I thought about this. "So, me going to school with other kids, will that be an adventure?"
"Sure will."
I nodded, then whispered out my biggest fear.
"What was that, hun?" my mother asked, finishing up the other braid and turning me around to face her.
"I'm afraid I won't make any friends," I whispered again, looking down.
"Ivy Thomson Spencer, you look at me." I looked up into my mother's face. "You are the nicest, sweetest girl in the entire world. You'll have every kid in that British school lining up to be your friend, don't you worry about that. Now, get some sleep."
"'Kay mom," I said, lying down. "'Night."
Mom sighed. "Sleep well. Don't worry, things will be fine."
I was not that certain
*~*
We moved into a town called Alton. I was immediatly enrolled in the local school.
It was so much different from being home schooled. There were so many people! I usually was silent during class. Now, instead of the other people having the accent, I had one.
I dreaded being called upon to read. I would hurriedly mummble through the selection, trying, but not sucseeding, to curb my acute Maine accent. When I was done, I would hurriedly sit down amidst giggles and people imitating me by dropping their "R's" and double "T's".
So I tried to stay removed from my classmates, but they seemed to find some sport in tormenting me. They would hunt me down at recess, poking fun at everything from my clothes to my accent to my nationality.
I would take refuge in the public library. The librarian there was very kind, and helped me to find some good books. I loved to read, but there had been no library in my old home. So I spent most of my time in that place. It was quite small, really, but I didn't care. I could spend hours there, reading, and no one would bother me.
There was one boy, about my age, who I noticed a lot at the library. I didn't know his name, but he would sit at the table next to mine and read, ignoring me and everything else. He seemed tired to me, there were dark circles under his soft green eyes, and his brown hair hung limply over his forehead.
One day, though, the boy and I were reading peacefully when the silence was shattered by children's voices. A troop of my classmates stormed into the room that I was reading in.
"There she is!" cried one boy, seemingly the leader of the small group of children.
"All right, where is it?" one of them demanded, snatching my book away.
"Wh-where's what?" I stuttered, trying desperately to stay calm.
" My bracelet!" cried a girl. I recognized her as the girl whose desk was next to mine. "I left it on my desk before lunch, and when I came back, it was gone! I know you took it, give it back!"
"I d-didn't take your b-bracelet," I protested, trying vainly to get my book back.
"Don't lie to us, American," another child hissed. "We don't want you here, go back where you came from!"
I was fighting tears when the boy beside me stood up. "Leave her alone!" he commanded. "She didn't take your bracelet, she did!" He pointed to the girl who had called me a liar.
"N-no I did not!" she spluttered, turning red.
"Turn out your pockets, then," my green eyed savior suggested.
The girls's face went even redder " I will not," she insisted looking a bit worried.
"Yeah, Mandy, turn out your pockets," the girl who owned the stolen bracelet said. The girl gulped and ran out of the building, earning her a glare from the librarian. The other children followed.
I turned to the boy who stood up for me, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands. "Th-thanks," I stuttered. "You saved my life."
The boy looked down. 'S'nothing," he mumbled.
"What's your name?"
"Remus, Remus Lupin," he answered, looking up a bit. "Who're you?"
"I'm Ivy Spencer," I answered, and added with the bluntness of an eight year old, "Do you want to be friends?"
He looked up, unsure. "I've never had a friend before," he admitted. "What do I do?"
"It's easy," I explained. "We just, you know, do stuff together. And talk. And, stuff." He nodded. "Okay," he agreed, smiling just a bit. I smiled back. Grabbing my book, I sat down at his table. He sat down next to me uneasily. I smiled again at him, and he grinned. That was just the beginning.
*~*
After that, Remus and me were like peas and carrots. (A/N: I love that movie!) We went everywhere and did everything together. We even had nick-names for each other. He was peas, after his eyes, and I was carrots, after my hair.
After school and on weekends we would always meet at the library and go somewhere. Sometimes, we'd go down to the park and climb trees. Sometimes, we'd go downtown and look at all the little shops. Or sometimes, we'd just stay at the library and read. Whatever we did, we always had a great time.
But something never seemed right. Remus always seemed slightly scared, like he was afraid of me. Or of himself. And once a month, almost on a set pattern, he wouldn't be at school, or at the library. He came up with really silly excuses, like he was in Majorca with his aunt, or he had to watch his brother play rugby. I never believed him, but as it seemed to be a sensitive subject, I tried not to bring it up to him. But one day, a couple of years after we met, my curiosity got the better of me.
We were lying on the grass in the park on a lazy Sunday afternoon. The July sun was shining brightly in the sky, symbolizing the start of summer holidays. We were not looking forward to the end of the summer. I was going to the local high school at the beginning of the next term, and Remus was going away to a boarding school.
"Peas?" I asked, "Where do you go once a month?"
He sat up. "No where," he said, a bit to quickly. I gave him a skeptical look. He sighed.
"I can't lie to you anymore, Carrots. I hate lying to you. But I can't tell you where I go."
This wasn't a good enough explanation for me. "But why can't you tell me, peas?" I whined.
"I-I just, I just can't, Carrots, okay?" He looked at his watch. "It's getting late, I've gotta go. Bye." he got up hurriedly and left.
I got up soon afterwards. This was around the time he was usually gone, I thought. I'll go see where he goes.
After dinner, I snuck out of the house, There was about a half hour till sunset. I ran along the quiet streets tell I got to his house. I climbed up the tree next to his window, something I had done many times before, and peered through his window screen.
Remus was sitting quietly on his bed. "I'm locking the door now, dear," I heard his mother call.
" 'Kay, mum," he answered. His voice sounded hoarse. The door clicked.
"Peas!" I hissed. He jumped and stared at me, horrified.
"Ivy!" He gasped. "You have to get out of here now! The moon's almost out!"
"So?" I asked. "What's the moon got to do with anything?"
"You have to go away. I can't tell you. Just, go, please." he was looking quite panicked now.
"No," I said, stubbornly, "I'm not going to leave until you tell me what's up."
He looked like he was about to cry. "Fine. I'll tell you. I-I'm a-a-a-a- a werewolf." He looked down.
I was amazed. "Peas," I said, "That's the worst excuse you've ever given!" He looked up, surprised. "There's no such thing as werewolves, silly," I explained.
A look of pure horror passed his face. The sun slipped below the horizon, and a full moon took it's place. He let out a low moan. Clutching his stomach, he knelt down. I watched in horror as he began to change in front of my eyes. His legs and arms grew longer. His feet and hands grew back into clawed paws. His nose and ears lengthened. Gray fur grew over his body. A moment later, I was looking at a full grown wolf. He looked at me and growled. I looked back, to stunned to move. His eyes narrowed and mussels tensed. I knew that if he lept for me, the screen wouldn't last long, but still I couldn't move.
He's a werewolf, I thought. My best friend is a monster.
He lunged at the screen. I screamed and launched myself out of the tree. Luckily, a bush broke my fall. I jumped out and flew home. Sobbing, I collapsed in my room, and wouldn't come out for days.
*~*
I spent the rest of the summer at home, trying not to think about Remus. I knew that his being a werewolf was not his fault, and I knew that he had no control over himself when he was in his wolf form, but still, I couldn't forget the way he glared at me. Like he wanted to kill me. I just couldn't bear to see him again.
Finally, three days before school started up again, my mother dragged me out of the house to get some school items. We went to several stores. When we got to the last one, what I was dreading happened. We came face to face with Remus and his mom.
"Doris!" my mom explained to Remus's. "I haven't seen you in ages!" The two quickly got into a conversation about something. Remus and I just stared at each other.
Finally, he whispered, "I'm just here to pick up some shoes. I'm going to Hogwarts, a wizarding school. I'm going to be a wizard. I'll be there all the time, so you won't have to see me." He looked at me. I couldn't say anything, there was a gigantic lump in my throat. Before, I wouldn't have believed him if he said something about wizards, but now, oddly, I did.
Our mothers finished their conversation. "Come along, Remus," his mother commanded. They walked away. Remus did not look back. I watched them go. Finally, I managed to whisper:
"Bye, Peas."
Epilogue
Dear Hope'
It's still a shock for me to think of you as a witch! It's good you're making friends at Hogwarts, that Harry Potter seems nice. Don't you worry about Sirius Black. I'm sure those Dementors (whatever they are) will catch him soon. I hope you are enjoying your classes, even though that potions teacher sounds like a jerk. Keep your chin up, and keep warm. I'll send you a couple of sweaters, Grandma has finally convinced me to learn how to knit! I'll have to teach you how when you get home.
I have to go now, your owl is screeching, I can tell he want a letter to get back to you.
All my love,
Mom
PS Did you mention that one of your teachers is Remus Lupin? Does he have green eyes? If he does, please tell him: Carrots says she's sorry.
THE END
A/N: Like? Hate? Don't care either way? Review and let me know! I just want to know if people are actually reading this.