AN: For the Doctor Who Appreciation Category Competition (Mickey Smith: write about a third wheel)
.
No one really notices him. He isn't bold like James, handsome like Sirius, or even intelligent like Remus. Even if they accept him into their group, he doesn't belong.
Peter does not live. He simply exists, forever just there.
.
"Watch it, Wormy," James calls knocking Peter's books from his hands.
Peter scowls at his friends, ducking down and trying to gather his scattered belongings, most of which are quickly trampled by students leaving from class. "Aren't you going to help?" he asks quietly, looking to Remus because he's always had the biggest heart.
"Sorry, Pete," Sirius laughs, not sounding sorry at all. "Things to do."
"What sort of things?"
Remus starts to answer, but Sirius grabs him by the arm and pulls him away behind James.
"I want to do things too!"
.
"I'm part of the group, too, you know, and I deserve to be included. You've been a bunch of right gits lately, and I don't appreciate it. Do you hear me?"
Peter slumps slightly, gripping the sink and resting his head against the mirror. Even his own ears can hear how pitiful he sounds. He's a joke to them, just someone to laugh at who tags along because the alternative is being completely alone. No amount of time rehearsing in front of the mirror can change that.
.
"Where are your friends?" Regulus asks, sitting beside him.
"Hell if I know," Peter mutters before realizing who he's talking to. He quickly turns away, mentally scolding himself for being friendly with the enemy.
"Nice friends," Regulus laughs, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.
"You don't know them."
"I think I know them better than you, actually."
Peter snorts and shakes his head. He glances at the younger boy, wanting to say something, but he stops himself. This is the first time anyone's really stopped to talk to him. He always has to force his way into his friends' lives, has to scream to be noticed.
It feels nice. Too nice.
Peter climbs to his feet, rushing off before he can get too invested.
.
"There you are, Wormy! What kept you?" Sirius asks when Peter returns to the dormitory.
"I was just-"
"We're going out. Nothing big. Just wanna get a few butterbeers," James interrupts, and Peter feels his heart soar at the idea of going on a run. "We need you to lie for us. Say we're in the loo or something."
"Can't I go?"
"Nah. Not this time. We need a cover."
Peter looks over at Remus who gives him an apologetic smile. "I'm completely against this," Remus sighs. "But apparently I'm a bad a liar, so they can't leave me behind."
Peter looks down at his feet, shoulders sagging. "Fine."
.
"Why do you put up with their shit?" Regulus asks.
"They're my friends. They're really quite lovely, and- I don't have to explain myself to you!"
Regulus reaches out and ruffles Peter's hair. "You need better friends, mate."
"What? Like you?"
Now, Regulus smiles, and Peter is reminded of a shark. Dangerous. Deadly. Not the type of thing a sane person would approach. But he has nothing better to do, no one else to pass the time with.
"Here's the difference. I don't have friends. I have associates," Regulus explains. "My associates need me. I'm not just someone who gets in the way and never gets any respect like you."
"I know who your associates are," Peter says, and he can't hide the tremor of fear in his voice.
Sirius had mentioned his concern that his brother would go dark. After the summer, he'd brought grim news that Regulus had been spending quite a bit of time with their psychotic cousin and her group. Even Peter, who had never been exceptionally bright, could do the math.
"They can be your associates, too," Regulus says, unperturbed. "You would be wanted. Needed. Isn't that better than what you're doing now?"
"I-I suppose," Peter admits.
"Well?"
"No! I can't. I-I- They're my friends, and I-"
"I'll say it again. Nice friends you've got. Think about it, okay?"
.
Peter tells himself that he most certainly will not think about it. But his own denial causes thoughts to surface, unwanted and unneeded.
"No."
"Did you say something, Pete?" James asks.
"Huh? I, uh... No. Of course not," Peter laughs nervously, closing his eyes trying to fall back asleep.
"Merlin, he's weird," Sirius mumbles.
.
It's Peter's turn to seek Regulus out, and he easily finds him in the library. "What are you doing?"
"Slughorn reckons I need to seriously consider my future," Regulus snorts, pushing a book aside. "Didn't have the heart to tell him I know exactly where I'll be when I leave here."
Peter nods silently, watching him for several seconds. He opens his mouth but quickly shuts it again. How can he voice what needs to be said when they are far too public?
Regulus raises his brows. "Been considering your future, I take it," he guesses with a knowing smirk. "Gonna keep following your mates like a good pup and hope they'll feed you scraps under the table?"
"No," Peter says, watching as his friends pass by the library, so happy and carefree without him. "I don't think I will."