The air feels solid as he breathes, hard to inhale, hard to keep breathing. It weighs down on his heart as he watches his mother and the words No, mum, I can´t stay, seem so hard and sharp against his tongue, and he can´t push them out, not towards his mother that is watching him with shock and horror and worry etched on her face.

She looks so frail, standing there, his yellow-haired mother with faint gray lines traced on her head, with kindly eyes that are marked by her smiles, with that apron she's worn for as long as he can remember. And in that moment, he´s just Peter darling, the smallest among three older sisters, the one who was given everything, the one who everyone adored; and it isn´t surprising, when he thinks about it later, that his mother would not understand why he was going to live in London, where more and more wizards died every day, were tortured and robbed.

But he's not going there for a better job, or to be close to his friends, as he tells her…well, not quite for that reason. In truth, he's going there for Dumbledore and for the Order of the Phoenix, because there's a war and he's joined it. He wants to do something, anything, to help defeat Voldemort. And yes, he's terrified out of his wits, but he can't get over the fact that it may be his family next, or his friends, or his classmates. Johann Becker died the weekend before; he used to help Peter with his homework. Peter still feels nauseous at the thought of Johann's body sprawled on the cover of the Daily Prophet.

His mother won´t listen, she won´t understand. And yes, he is going to London to be closer to his friends. Because they're going there, and he's haunted by the idea that one day he could hear the news that they're dead and he never did anything to help them…that he was never close enough to do anything to stop it…

But then she's saying that no, you have to admit, darling, you're not that good at magic as most and you could get hurt and it would all be for nothing and you need to be here, where you can be with mummy and she can help look after you

And then he´s aggravated, and sickened that his mother could say something like that. Yes, he may not be the best wizard, but to have her say it in his face, and so condescending, so wrong, like he's a child that needs looking after, like he´s not eighteen but he's six, and an idiot who doesn't know what to do, like he's barely magical, not an animagus…and he's oh, so tempted to show her how he can transform into a rat…

But no. For the first time, Peter glares at his mother, and his expression makes her settle into a shocked silence.

He shakes his head firmly and puts his foot down, telling her he's leaving, and nothing she does can stop him. He's strong enough to defend himself, to fight back, to live.

And he might be worried sick, but he swallows down his fear and hugs her as she cries into his shoulder, and he's aggravated at the world for making him make her cry.