Eve Harrington: I won't play tonight. I couldn't, not possibly. I couldn't go on.
Addison DeWitt: Couldn't go on? You'll give the performance of your life.
~A movie





It was hard to imagine Peter Pettigrew as strong. The portrayal of this man is insane. He was, at one point, a happy individual with the sun in his eyes and a bag of assorted Honeydukes candy in hand.

He had amazing royal blue eyes, like sapphires and they sparkled when he was outside. He was never quite good at Quidditch, flying wasn't his thing.

"Pettigrew," she said once. "Why do you follow them so?"

"Evans," he commented gesturing wildly to the boys underneath the tree and smiling. "Everyone has their place in the world. I just happened to find my place."

The redhead remembers smiling and rolling her eyes. "But you're okay, Pettigrew, you're okay and you needn't stick to your place this early on."

"Evans," he said, more severely as he bit his tongue, "it's so simple. Look it's good, okay?"

"Okay, Pettigrew. Just remember, no one ever won anything by following ridiculous little boys about the grounds."

"Evans," he said calmly, "it's much easier to be an accomplice to a murder than actually do the killing."

She laughed hollowly. "There's no difference."

And he thought that maybe there wasn't.

They were both alike, really. Young and vibrant with cynical touches here and there. She's strong because she wants to be and he's strong because he has to be, because no one will be strong for him.

If she couldn't be strong...James would be strong for her.

But let's not go into that right now.

They meet because they want to and they call it the "resistance" even though he loathes the name. Slightly too rebellious for his calm tastes. She says that it's "nonsense" and that there's no such thing as too rebellious. They eat on Lover's Hill and they call it that because it is, and not because they want to. He always brings licorice wands and pumpkin pasties and she always sneaks some butterbeer when she can manage. It's quiet, usually. He'll ask her about how to do divination and she'll laugh and point to his heart: "It's all in here, Pettigrew. Hasn't got nothing to do with brains."

And he thinks that even if it had to do with his heart he'd still be doomed.

James notices rarely and when he does he scowls and says: "We help you with your homework and give you a boost with popularity and this is how you repay us?" Black stands by and threatens the boy with his fist.  Pettigrew is with James' girl and Potter doesn't take lightly to that.

And Pettigrew sighs and thinks, he really does owe them something. He just doesn't know what it is. Yet.

They hold hands sometimes because hers is always cold and Lover's Hill does this to people--by its very nature. And he always runs his thumb over her delicate one. And she just smiles, knowing secretly that Pettigrew's over his head.

He probably is, too.

The young lady always believed in Pettigrew because although he was forgotten he was not lost. She was seldom torn between James and this boy. James was different. She adored Pettigrew with all that was left of her heart, because he was Pettigrew and because he needed it. Because she wanted to. The girl loved James because she had to and because it was almost possible for her to fall in love with him if she really tried.

Pettigrew knew this because he was halfway intelligent even if credit was never given for it. And he laughed because it was just so true.

"What will you do when you grow up, Evans?"

"I think I'm already grown up," she said as she twisted her scarlet hair around a finger. "But as I get older I want to get married...have children. Perhaps work for the Ministry."

"You'd be an amazing Mother," he commented earnestly.

"I hope so; it'd be dreadful if I just wasn't good with children! What about you, Pettigrew?"

"Oh," he became shy and laughed it off, taking another licorice wand, "Guess I want to...to make money, you know. Perhaps some power..." another eerie laugh "...I could live on that."

She nods as though she understands--because she does--"You'll be a good Daddy, Pettigrew."

"I don't think it really matters much, Evans."

They laugh in the sunlight and she dances with him in the wind. They share pieces of carrot cake on Lover's Hill and she thinks he's the best person she's ever known. Even if he is a bit shallow and a bit ridiculous at times. Even if she thinks every word that comes out of his mouth is bull. And he happens to think that she's amazing that no one else out there will ever measure up. She's just brilliant, he thinks. Even if she's a bit too young and rebellious.

And they think that perhaps they'll grow up and run away together.


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