For this next installment in the short series, please have read chapter two of James Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


The Boy on the Train

Breathing heavily, curly-headed Peter Pettigrew jogged up to the side of the glistening Hogwarts Express, which somehow managed to sit so pristinely in the midst of the bustling King's Cross Station, unconcerned that it would be departing the platform in mere minutes. In awe of its scarlet engine, Peter paused by the door to one of the cars near the back, allowing a few veteran students to jostle past him as he took in the sight. Soon, however, he gave his head a vicious shake to rid of his wandering thoughts, remembering what his mother had told him just moments before:

Don't let the train leave without you, lad! You'll be in a fine fix if you do, and I'll be in a right fury if I have to owl the conductor and ask him to come back!

Envisioning his mother's all-too familiar expression of rage, Peter shuddered and scurried forward, pushing his monstrous suitcase up into the car in front of him. Unfortunately, his task proved more difficult than he had first anticipated, and he heaved against the weight as several other students began to queue up behind him, folding their arms impatiently. Struggling to shove his belongings on board, Peter scrunched up his face and gave another hard shove.

"Hurry it up already, will you?" one of the waiting students asked, tapping his foot. "The train's about to leave!"

"Almost . . . there!" Peter assured him, pushing once more so his suitcase thumped to the floor of the train. Murmuring their relief and exasperation, the others clambered up behind him after the first boy pushed him to the side with his luggage still in hand.

Discouraged, Peter began to drag his suitcase along the carpeted floor of the train car, peeking into the compartments to see if he could find a place to sit even at this late time. Unfortunately, most of the rooms were either too full to find a comfortable seat or had a group of talkative students exchanging stories about the summer break. Not fancying having to introduce himself to an established circle of friends, Peter kept walking down the line of compartments, hoping to find some other first-year students he could talk to. Everyone here seemed to be at least a head taller than he was, and he knew from experience that older kids did not speak with eleven-year olds if they could avoid it; and here, they could.

Sighing, Peter kept moving through the train, making room as best he could for the other passengers when they attempted to squeeze by his unwieldy suitcase. As he passed by yet another group of students, he heard two people talking just ahead of him, and he looked up hopefully at their conversation.

"I wasn't happy about the rule either, but my father says first-years can't do much at all," a stocky boy with a shock of blond hair was telling his companion, a shorter, tweedy boy with a face reminiscent of a crow.

"I can't wait until our second year," the other replied, his dark, beady eyes only drawing more attention to his oversized nose. "I'll be out of practice if I don't have my broomstick."

"Plus, by then we'll have learned a lot more spells," the blond boy agreed, still walking alongisde his companion with his back towards Peter. "I only know a few from my father, but he wouldn't show me any of the good ones until I started school. When I go home for the summer, he promised to teach me some more hexes so I can—"

Breaking off, he turned around and glared at Peter, who had been following a little too eagerly and had accidentally bumped into him. "Watch where you're going, Jelly-Legs!"

"Oh, sorry," Peter apologized, quickly jerking to a halt and letting his suitcase fall to the floor with a loud thump. Lowering his gaze to the floor, he waited for the others to keep on walking, but the boy kept glaring at him.

"You almost bowled me over!" he reprimanded, and Peter drew back in alarm. "Is sorry all you've got?"

"Er . . ." Peter hesitated, tilting his head. "Would you like me to ask your pardon?"

"No, I want you to take it back!" he demanded. Confused, Peter gestured vaguely over his shoulder.

"But I was only walking—"

"Take it back!" the boy growled deeply, and Peter suddenly noticed how high his blond head stood over him.

"Okay!" he squeaked in a failed attempt at concealing his alarm. "I take it back!"

"Good," the boy snapped before turning around, his friend following his lead.

Unfortunately, at that very moment, the train jolted forward; Peter, unprepared for the sudden motion, fell forward onto the two boys, his suitcase landing on top of them and breaking open. Groaning angrily as its contents splayed onto the floor, the boys underneath Peter shoved him away as he struggled to regain his balance. Attempting to stand a little too quickly, Peter caught his foot on one of his spilled textbooks, and he fell down again. Furious, the two boys leapt to their feet while Peter tried ungracefully to copy their movements, but he suddenly froze when the boys pulled out their wands from the inside of their robes and pointed them at him.

"That's it: I've had enough!" the larger one decreed, teeth bared while Peter locked his eyes on the end of his wand in terror. "Should I glue his clumsy feet together, or should I make him sprout cacti out of his ears?"

"Do the cacti, Sebastian!" the other one urged with a twisted smile. "I want to see the spines tickle his face!"

"Get ready to pay, chubby!" the first one told Peter, and he raised his wand while Peter winced and shut his eyes.

"Pardon me, so very sorry, could you move to the side just a bit?" an unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in, and Peter cracked open one of his eyelids to see a thin boy in heavily-patched robes trying to shove his way through his antagonizers. Surprised, the boys dropped their wands unhappily and moved aside while the newcomer tried to squeeze through them, dragging his suitcase.

"My apologies, I just can't seem to fit through anywhere today with this suitcase of mine—I hope you'll forgive my clumsiness," the boy continued to apologize. When he finally squeezed past Peter's attackers, he halted in front of the assorted textbooks and robes thrown across the hallway, raising a hand to his mouth. "Oh, my! I can see the reason for the holdup now! This is a catastrophe!"

Angred, the blond boy opened his mouth to say something from behind him, but the newcomer beat him to it. "Do you suppose we should call somebody?" he asked the other two, turning around. "This seems like a matter for a prefect. We can't have the passageway cluttered like this, after all." Putting his hands to his mouth, he turned around and called out, "Prefect? Is there a prefect on board?"

Alarmed, Peter's attackers took a few steps back with widened eyes. "Look, I'm sure you can take care of this, all right?" the crow-faced one told the boy in the patched robes, eyeing him with a sort of deep-rooted irritation.

As he and his friend turned to go, the taller boy gave Peter a hard look and kicked one of his quills on his way down the hall. "See you around, Jelly-Legs."

When they had stalked off down the corridor, Peter turned to look at his seemingly unwitting rescuer, still standing with a hand over his eyes as he stared off down the hallway. Once the others had left, the boy lowered his hand and smiled sheepishly at Peter. "Are you all right?" he asked, dropping to his knee and picking up a few of Peter's textbooks.

"I'm all right," Peter answered before reddening and glancing down at the floor. "Thanks."

"No problem," the other boy replied before holding out his hand. "I'm Remus. What's your name?"

"Peter," Peter responded, taking his hand and shaking it. Then, remembering his original plan, he brightened and smiled at Remus. "Do you want to find a compartment together?"

"Sure," Remus agreed, and he sighed as he threw a glance at the items scattered on the floor. "But seriously, we need to find someone to help clean this up. This really is a catastrophe."

Flushing again, Peter held out his hand for Remus to take, and the latter pulled him upright before accompanying him down the corridor to find a prefect.


For those of you who are curious, the two boys who cornered Peter are Sebastian Wilkes and Conway Avery. If you have any suggestions for short stories, remember to message me!