The Little People
Bugger.
Such a little word, but so appropriate in so many situations. It can be awfully expressive, and adaptive, and incredibly useful. It also happened to be the only word rattling around one Peter Pettigrew's head.
Bugger.
Peter was sat on his bed in the dorm he hadn't slept in. He hadn't slept at all, truth be told. He was exhausted and tense and really wanted to skive Charms and Potions, go rat and curl up under his pillow to sleep until lunch. Between the three of them, they had learned that their animagus forms generally felt emotions less sharply than normal, and Peter used the technique whenever he had nightmares and couldn't get to sleep on his own. If it wasn't such a complicated and, y'know, illegal form of magic, he would gladly recommend it as a cure for insomnia. Sadly, his comforting plan of fur and warmth was short lived. He was pretty sure Flatwick would notice their collective absence, even if Slughorn wouldn't.
Sirius was sat cross-legged on the floor, silently glowering out at the room. James was standing at the bottom of his own unused bed, rhythmically banging his forehead against the hard wood of the nearest post. It was almost hypnotic, and Peter spent a few moments just watching. When he finally shook himself out of his trance, he made the mistake of muttering aloud.
' Bugger.'
' Bugger? Do you know the meaning of the word understatement, Peter?'
Peter knew it had only been a matter of time before Sirius exploded, but it still made him jump. Peter did, in fact, know the meaning of the word understatement, but he felt it would be detrimental to his health to point that out. He also knew the meaning of the word predicament, which was undoubtedly what they were in.
As per every full moon, they had followed Remus to the shack, transformed with him and then taken the wolf for his run around the forest. But he'd made a dash for it when they stopped for a moment's rest. They'd lost him.
They had lost him. At least, that's what Sirius kept reminding them. Peter thought it was more of a technicality than anything else. Yes, they had lost sight of him. And, yes, it had seemed like an eternity until they found him; chasing a rabbit, safely in the confines of the forest. But in reality, it'd only been minutes.
Peter supposed that didn't really matter; The technicalities, the actualities. What mattered were the possibilities. They lost him. What if they hadn't found him? What if it'd been more than just a brave rabbit they found him with? What if he had bolted out of the forest boundaries; to the village, or the school?
' Bugger,' Peter mumbled again, thankfully unheard as Sirius started up his own stream of profanity.
' Shit, bastarding hell -'
James had abandoned his attempt at self-inflicted brain damage and started pacing back and forth across the room instead. He kept flashing in and out Peter's field of vision, making him oddly dizzy for someone sat still.
Peter had another urge to curl up and make himself very small, do anything to avoid the looming maelstrom. He liked to think that was the rat instinct, still fresh in his system, but he couldn't be sure.
' - twated buggering Christ -'
But the maelstrom didn't happen. It frightened Peter more that nothing happened. Apart from Sirius' mumbling and James' footfalls, all was silent. The quiet was unnerving. Not as unnerving as the fact that James looked lost. James-I've-always-got-a-back-up-plan-and-if-not-we'll-get-by-on-my-charm-alone-Potter looking like a deer in the headlights. Or a stag. Or any other kind of Cervidae species, for that matter.
Peter found himself wondering again at the psychological intricacies of the frequent animal transformations. Was Sirius actually more doggy, or was it just more noticeable once they knew he could actually turn into one?
Perhaps not the time to be pondering such things, Peter knew, but at least it gave him something to focus on besides the incessant muttering and rhythmic pacing on the suddenly small feeling room.
' - bloody sodding fuck!' Sirius cried, kicking the bathroom door just because it was near enough. Peter thanked whatever higher-power made sure he had been out of reach.
The wooden clunk echoed ominously around the room, the resounding silence pressed against Peter's eardrums almost painfully. James stopped his pacing. The moment stretched on and on, until Peter couldn't take it anymore.
' Maybe we should go down to breakfast,' he suggested.
' Breakfast!' Sirius practically yelled. ' Is that all you can think about, you chubby little shit? Nevermind someone else's problems, as long as Petey-boy's got his eggs and bakey!'
Peter, stung, hesitated. He was well aware of his pudginess, especially sat as he was in a room with two of the most desirable boys in the school. They usually had the tact not to mention it, though, and it was this breech of trust that offended Peter, not the rather weak insult. Well, that, and the fact that Peter wasn't in the least bit hungry.
' Sirius,' James warned half-heartedly. Then he added, quietly, ' Pete's right. Remus missing breakfast is nothing new, but none of us turning up will get people's attention.'
Sirius grunted, clearly not happy about it but seeing the logic, and the three trouped grumpily down to the great hall.
It was a subdued affair, to say the least. The customary polite enquiries about Remus' illness, and whispers as the rumour mill churned out a reason for the general Marauder exhaustion. Lily Evans even pulled Peter aside to give her well wishes to Remus, because she was still pretending James and Sirius didn't exist after an argument Peter had missed. The details were sketchy, but it was bad enough for her to blank them completely, so Peter hadn't asked.
The mornings lessons passed in a moody silence, as did lunch. They popped up to the hospital wing, but Remus was sleeping. McGonagall even called them out in transfiguration when James left the ears, whiskers and a tail on the mouse he was supposed to be vanishing. It wasn't until History of Magic that he got that hint of the usual Prongs mischief glinting in his eyes.
Half way through the lesson, Peter was pulled from his drone induced trance when a scrap of parchment was slammed onto the desk.
I've been thinking, it read.
Peter thought it showed the gravity of the situation that nobody said, ' Oh, dear.' Sirius raised his eyebrows as the idea clearly crossed his mind, but seemed to think better than to vocalise it.
Instead, he snatched up the parchment and scribbled on the back of it, About?
Well, Peter read as James wrote, Our location problem.
Sirius tapped his fingers impatiently.
And the solution, James elaborated with a dramatic flourish.
Sirius made a growling noise in the back of his throat before whacking James hard around the back of the head.
' Stop fucking about, Potter!'
' Ow! What was that for, you pillock?'
' The flourish did it, I think,' Peter supplied.
' What flourish? I didn't…' James trailed off at the look on Sirius' face. ' Okay, okay. Sorry. I was just thinking -'
' Yes. You've said that. Do you actually have an answer or not?'
' Not. That is, I don't.'
' What. The. Fuck. Are you on about?'
' Well, it was more Pete's idea, really,' James gestured toward Peter and Sirius turned expectantly to face him, too.
Peter tried to speak, but only managed to flap his mouth a bit. He was becoming thoroughly flustered and, annoyingly, James seemed to be enjoying watching too much to actually explain himself. Sirius was growing more and more threatening - Peter more alarmed - and when James finally decided to interrupt with a cough, Peter actually sighed with relief.
' Will you stop pissing about, and get to the point.'
' Alright, alright. Untwist your knickers, we know you're worried about Moony -'
' We lost him, Prongs! What he going to do when we tell him? He'll never let us go with him again.'
' Which is why we won't.'
' Won't what?' Peter asked, confused.
Sirius shot him a withering look before casting an incredulous one at James.
' We can't not tell him!'
' Course we can. Can't. I don't know, whatever. Point is, we don't have to. Not if Pete's idea works.'
' But I don't have an idea,' Peter blurted, trying to ignore yet another disdainful glance aimed his way.
' Of course you do, Petey-boy!' James cried, patting him on the back. ' We need a map.'
Hooray, update. Sorry, sorry it has taken so long. As mentioned in my other story, my computer died and I lost all my data. It's taken quite some time to get everything back into some sort of an order. Now that it is, updates should be a bit more frequent again.
So, yes. Marauder's Map ahoy. I don't really have anything to say about this chapter. Sorry it's a bit short and not particularly exciting, but something needed to happen to make the Map a necessity. I dunno. Hope it isn't too bad for you.
I am a bit behind schedule now, with all the problems, so the next few chapters will be Christmas ones. Just so you know.
Thanks for reading, reviews always appreciated. Danke schoen.
