House: Slytherin
Category: Themed
Prompts: There was always a point at (Family name) reunions where things went from boring to fun [Sentence Starter]; Peter Pettigrew [Character]
Word count: 2530 (Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Entry and Title)
Warning: This is an AU (Alternate Universe) piece. There are some OC's (Original Characters) too.
Characters: Sirius Black; James Potter; Remus Lupin; Peter Pettigrew; Mrs. Black, Mr. Black.
Summary: Peter Pettigrew has always felt like he didn't belong among the normals, but during a trip to the Black family home, he finds his place among the abnormal and downright peculiar. It isn't until Sirius pulls him aside and shows him just how much he appreciates him that Peter learns that he truly is welcomed and cherished.
Author's Note: I initially wanted to write a Petunia Dursley piece, but found that I couldn't pass up the opportunity to explore and write a more amusing work. The Marauders were quite persistent and won my uninvited attention. I chose to write a Peter Pettigrew-oriented piece as well, seeing I haven't quite touched his complicated character arc yet. I wanted to play on his sense of displacement and, hopefully, collect some tears along the way. This was written to prove that I can write an upbeat and humorous story. If you don't like your head off while reading this, then I don't know what to tell y'all. It didn't take me long to write it, either. Everything fell into place nicely. Editing was a real hassle, though. Anyway! On with the show! :)
As always, enjoy
-Carolare Scarletus
Expecting the Unexpected
There was always a point at the Black reunions where things went from boring to fun. In a matter of three seconds, tables would literally be turned upside down and piles of mashed potatoes could fly out of nowhere and into unsuspected faces. Tea time with mother was always unpredictable, as were Uncle Ruppert's apple turnovers, which could be just as deadly as they smelled.. Until this day, no one could make out his secret ingredient, but most suspected that it was frog legs while others suspected something far nefarious than catch stealing cookies from pantry..
For Sirius Black and friends, there was no better way of celebrating the long-awaited holiday with fireworks and plugging up the upstairs toilet.
As expected, when it did, loud explosions erupted from every directions, rocking the fragile building; fireworks soared into the air, blasted the attendees with colorful light and sparkling debris. It hadn't been the sort of celebration within the Black home, but when the first accidental firework had been launched as a result of two mischievous boys during a boring match of gnome tossing, it became the sort of tradition that the family craved. To hell with the boring; they wanted to welcome the extraordinary. The more participants, the merrier, and be gone to those who didn't think tea time with their mother couldn't involve a food fight of grand proportions.
Even for the Blacks, nothing was out of bounds.
"Did you send all the invitations out?" asked the matriarch of the home, Walburga Black.
Her husband, whom had been fully engaged with the Daily Prophet, looked up from the moving article to answer his wife's question.
"Of course, love."
"To the Thomas, Lovegoods, and Malfoys?"
"And, the Notts, though I doubt they'd want to come back. Nearly scared them to death last year with the Gnome tossing."
"That's all part of the fun!" cried his wife as as she laughed harmoniously as the thought of Druella running around with a gnome gnawing at her legs. "I didn't think it was all that bad. The poor dear… I talked to her, and she has forgiven us. She doesn't plan to partake in that particular activity but she sends her regards."
"What about her good for nothing husband?" asked Orion Black, eyes scanning the newest flashing picture. "I don't like these things, Horoscopes, or whatever there called. It says here I am destined to fall off the cliff and die in a blazing fire. Whatever this 'Libra' is, they're dead wrong. I believe I am a Capricorn, I don't care what this thing says."
"Why do you give that thing the time of day?"
"They same reason why you care what everyone thinks of you."
Walburga huffed, threw the towel she'd been holding onto the countertop. "Some of our family members are unbearable. Surely, you can agree?"
"I choose not to be drawn into another one of your tireless tirades, dear." Orion sighed. He folded up the paper, set it aside, and took a long pull of his morning cuppa. With a satisfied grunt, he placed his cup back onto its saucer and looked at his wife of four years, waiting.
"It's not like I care." she said. "I just like to see my family have fun."
"As do I, Walburga" her husband said smiling. "Just, don't pay them any mind, is all. We didn't suffer for so long in such boredom for you to throw it all away. Family is everything and enjoying the moments you have with them is priceless. Never forget that."
And, she never did.
Years passed since her conversation with her husband, and in that time, she came to raise a family of her own, giving birth to two sons who were educated to respect those around them. In that time, Walburga never once forgot the meaning of family and that happiness was more important than any stupid rivalry she may have with other family members; she ensured that she taught her sons the same lesson she learned so long ago, demonstrating to them that the importance of family was everything. Without them, one was nothing. She apologized to those she wrong, and in return, those who wronged her confessed their fruitful pranks. All in all, the past was laid to rest knowing that they were looking hopeful to the future.
The Black home was alive with the sound of loud bangs and trumpets, an awful sound coupled with the underlying message of cries. The portraits had charmed themselves to silence, something Walburga took note of the moment she arrived on the main floor. Faceless people paraded down the tight corridor of her five-story home; she whipped around, her once gorgeous mane of black hair now teased with stress. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, but it looked as if her youngest son insisted on making the entire occasion an absolute nightmare. If things continued, more than one person will wish they were never born.
"Mother will have a fit," Sirius black said to his mates as they rounded the corner. They'd come from the kitchen, the fruit of their labors in James' hands. "I don't suspect she knows yet."
"If the foul odor doesn't alert her attention…" Remus began. "What is in that thing anyway?"
A mischievous grin spread across his face. "You know how I was telling you that my entire family would be here for the summer holiday?"
Remus gave in and nodded. "Yes, and I distinctly remember you not being about to articulate what this summer excursion involved. Surely, it doesn't have anything to do with what we're parading around?"
"It's only a small part," Sirius managed to tell them through a bout of laughter. "C'mon. I'll tell you what it is, but we've gotta set it up before-"
"Sirius Black," a horrid voice rang out from behind them. Frightened, the boys turned to find a youthful woman standing behind them, the look of absolute disgust crossing her features. "Don't you dare tell me you've stolen Uncle Phineas."
"Come on, mother." Sirius whined. "He said in his will that he still wanted to be part of the feastivities even after he died."
"I don't care if he suddenly springs to life and tap dances to tell me so," his mother said, looking between him and the clothed corpse of his deceased Uncle," take him back upstairs this instance. Mr. Sprinkles misses him."
"Mr. Sprinkles is a dusty old fart…"
"Sirius, why on earth would you talk ill of Phineas' beloved cat?"
"That's precisely where we're taking him!" Remus chimed in while James snickered. The only one who wasn't hankering for attention by laughing was Peter Pettigrew. He'd shy away from the group and was looking on with wide, shocked eyes at Sirius' mother as she chastised him. In Sirius' attempt to alleviate the situation, he dropped the mummified corpse and a cry rang out from all around them. THose who were passing through turned to look before the cry died out and they went about their business as if nothing had occured.
"Sirius, please." his mother sighed. "Stop arguing. Druella and Cygnus are due to arrive and I want everything to be perfect."
"Why do you care what they think?"
His mother narrowed his eyes. "Druella is not going to get off easily this year, mind you."
Sirius leaned into James," She means Auntie Druella isn't going one over her in the Wacky Charm Championship. Mother's had a three year losing streak."
"She cheats," his mother hissed. "And, I'll be the one laughing when it backfires on her and she's exposed!"
Peter Pettigrew, whom had reverted to a nostalgic sort of trance, hadn't paid any mind to them. In fact, he was more absorbed by the peculiar paintings on the walls and strangely dressed arrivals than what his friends were saying. He almost missed Sirius' question and when he felt his eyes zero in on him, he fumbled with his words, causing Sirius to laugh.
"Careful, mate," he told him. "If my folks saw you now, they'd think I spiked your pumpkin juice or something."
"You didn't do that, did you?" Peter asked, concerned.
"Nah," he told him, twirling his wand around his fingers. "You feeling alright?"
When his face turned green, Sirius dropped his Uncle's corpse onto the floor and leaned it against the wall.
"Look, I know all this might seem a little hectic."
"I don't belong here,"
" 'course you do!" SIrius beamed. "They're not so bad once you get to know them. And, just think, it hasn't even been a couple of hours since you arrived. The sooner you lighten up, the better. You'll miss all the fun if you don't." He winked at him. "C'mon, I got to put Uncle Phineas back with his cat."
"T-the cat isn't mummified, is it?"
Sirius looked at Peter for a moment. "Of course he is. He has to be otherwise he likes to play with Uncle Phineas' toes. He's only got three left and mother is trying to preserve the ones he has."
Peter's face turned green. As the four of them marched back upstairs to the fourth floor, James chimed in.
"Then, what will we be doing next?"
"Well," Sirius thought for a moment, "mother didn't say anything about my great Aunt Muriel. Reckon mother doesn't mind if she sets fire to her expensive rugs again."
"Just how many mummified corpses of relatives do you have?" Remus asked.
"Oh, no. This one is alive."
It turned out that Sirius was right. Great aunt Muriel was very much alive and as close to Death's door as she can get without crumbling away. Her face was as white as sheet of parchment, her hair was thin and brittle, and her eyes, if Peter hadn't known any better, he was sure he was looking into the hollowed face of a Dementor. The moment they arrived on the fourth floor and to the bedroom closest to the stairs, he knew they were in trouble. The old woman tried desperately to kiss Sirius. When she eventually got up from her bed, the boys were already at the door.
"Aunt Muriel has to be close to the stairs," explained Sirius as he tucked his dead uncle into bed. "Otherwise, it takes her ages to get downstairs. This way, she arrived just in time for the start of the feast."
"Has anyone ever tried just Apparating her downstairs?"
"Or, getting her one of those Muggle contraptions for the stairs," muttered James with a laugh.
Sirius looked between them, his hands on his hips. "O'Muriel is the least of our problems. And, we have tried that Remus, but she lost an arm somewhere between her bedroom and the kitchen. Still haven't found it. Anyway, night, Phin. I'll come back later to see how you're doing." As they made their way out of the room, he kicked an overturned and still very much animated body wrapped in fresh lenin. "Sprinkles," he curtly nodded as a hiss issued from the lively corpse.
"Sprinkles looks a bit… unemancipated," Remus said musingly.
"Yeah, well, I tried hexing it. And, it's true. Cats really do have ninety lives."
"It's supposed to be nine, Sirius."
"Not with that one," he pointed to the already moving mass that was Phineas' pet cat. "Alright, c'mon. Reckon supper is just about finished.
While James and Remus exited the room, Peter pulled Sirius to speak to him.
"What's up, mate?"
"Why do you have such whacky gatherings," asked Peter shyly.
"Would you prefer a more depression expression of family ties," Sirius asked, shaking his head. "It's part of our history Legends says that our family absolutely despise one another until one day, during a family gathering, a boy just about your age set fire to our fields and laid waste to our farm animals."
"Is that how it went?"
"That sounds terrible!" Peter cried.
Sirius laughed and shook his head. "Aye, it was, but our family learned something very valuable that day," he told him. "And, that was anything unexpected can be the most inspiring thing. That's why we're so anament about family gatherings; it took something so simple, yet unexpected, to bring us all together. It's sorta fun having everyone try to one-up each other. Be in our family olympics, pranks, or what have you. We live for the laughter. I just hope you realize that you're just apart of my family as Remus and James."
"I don't think I fit in as well as they do…"
"Y'know," Sirius said, making his way over to the door and opening it. James and Remus were nowhere to be found, but that didn't bother him. Running around was better than sitting down and knitting, anyway. "That's exactly what James said when he first visited. We have yearly gatherings, but that doesn't mean we don't have people showing up time to time to party. Remus was worse. He thought we all belonged at Saint Mungo's; it took him longer to adjust and I don't suppose he still has some reservations about our traditions."
"T-they felt the same way as I do?" Peter was stunned. He thought after all this time, coming to the Black home and interacting with the various family members, that he was the only one. But, he had been wrong.
A newly found sense washed over Peter, and for once he was not alone. Something about what Sirius said struck a hard chord with him and when they finally found Remus and James, it stayed.
Supper was an interesting affair. Peter sat between a woman in her early thirties, dressed in nothing but an assortment of newspapers. All around him, family members sportedf their newly acquired clothing; colorful bursts of light exploded all around them, and for the setting to be inside the manor, it didn't bother Peter in the slightest when the pheasant suddenly sprung to life and raced down the elongated table. He happily took a chunk of the thigh, placed it on his plate, and proceeded the delicious meal that Sirius' mother and motley of others had prepared.
No part of the celebration was without noise; the entire dining hall was dressed with magnificent drapes of gold and silly string. At one point near the end, a man from all the way on the other side stood up, placed on foot and then another on top of the table. As he did, everyone took their cups and plates out of the way. The man marched hurriedly across the long table, finally coming to a stop some time later. He bent down and asked," Can you pass me the sugar?" in a heated, tired voice. Peter quickly nodded, handing him what was hopefully the right container.
To his relief, the man smiled, stood, and retreated back from whence he came. Everyone placed their cups and plates back onto the table and proceeded to eat in loud, obnoxious banter.
For once in his life, Peter joined in and he relished in the idea of the unextraordinary because life was so much more than being just that, ordinary.
-Fin-