A/N: My prompt was lonely.
Peter hated Lily Evans.
It wasn't hard to come to this particular decision. Whenever Peter was near her, discomfort bubbled beneath his skin. Every time she tossed her hair, or made a witty remark, Peter had to resist the urge to grind his teeth in frustration.
Not that it was really the girl he hated, if he was honest with himself. But it had always been the four of them; the Marauders. Peter could slot in with ease and feel safe and protected. Now, gradually, he was being pushed out. Lily was taking the place marked Peter, and he couldn't stand it.
Never was this more evident to Peter than as he lay on his bed with only his divination essay for company. Sirius and Remus – now a happy, horribly soppy couple – had gone on a double date to Hogsmeade with Lily and James – an equally happy, equally soppy couple – without so much as an invitation to Peter. He was now finding it difficult to concentrate on his essay as he cursed his stupid friends, and tried to ignore the ache in his chest that whispered deserted, deserted, deserted.
His nostrils flared in an effort to keep a straight face, but his untidy scrawl still blurred. He wiped his eyes furiously and flicked his wand at the record player sitting on his bedside table. As angry rock music blasted from the corner, Peter rolled onto his back. The ceiling was plastered with posters of miserable looking bands, but even they couldn't distract him.
A quick glance at his watch told Peter that it was already six o'clock. He knew that as soon as Padfoot flashed him a cheeky grin, or Prongs offered him a butter beer, he would forget this feeling, a misery so cold he could feel it in his knees. With only that thought to comfort him, Peter waited. Without moving a muscle, he stared at the wall, counting the seconds and waiting for the room to be invaded by hyperactive teenage boys.
The record ran its course. Rain pattered against the window. The sound of students in the common room rose in pitch, and still, the doorway into Peter's dormitory remained completely devoid of friends. He'd long stopped crying, but the stale tears shone on his face.
Peter gave one, loud sniff and stood up. Fuck them. If they didn't need him anymore, well, he didn't need them. Surely there would be someone in the common room glad to have his company. Marlene McKinnon, perhaps.
Ten minutes later, Peter emerged from the dormitory, fresh faced and beaming. The ache lessened as he marched down the stairs. Yes. Some new friends would be good. New friends might care about him. New friends might make him feel better.
He reached the bottom of the stairs, and stopped abruptly. His heart dropped into his stomach. In the corner, where the Marauders always sat, scheming quietly, were his friends. And there – the spot beside James, opposite Remus, Peter's spot – sat Lily Evans. Peter felt his earlier torment crash into him again.
"Wormtail, my good man. Over here!"
Peter glanced helplessly at Marlene, sitting with Dorcas Meadowes, their heads close together, giggling over a magazine. There was nothing Peter wanted more than to ignore Sirius, and sit with the girls, to join their crowd and feel warm again, to laugh over stupid magazines and gossip about the rest of the year. Instead, without his permission, Peter's feet carried him to sit on the floor at Lily Evans' feet.
And if Peter cried himself to sleep that night, well, nobody had to know.
A/N: Thank you for making it to the end of my (admittedly short) story. This is just a quick reminder to review, even if it's just two words – nothing is better than knowing someone's enjoyed your story.