Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters or anything relating to Harry Potter
WE WERE YOUNGER THEN
The Creature In the Lake
"Peter!" What do they want? I'm sleeping!
"Wha?"
"Peter, get up!" it is Sirius' voice,
"Don't wanna," it's so early, I don't want to get up…
"Peter, it's exams day and breakfast has already started," bellows James from somewhere else in the room. Exams day! I completely forgot. Exams day, the bane of my life. If only I were James or Sirius, or Remus, then everything would be fine, but as it is, I am Peter. Poor, snivelling, whining Peter, Peter who never does well in exams., or at anything for that matter. Groaning, I gingerly pull of my bed covers and climb out of my four-poster, nearly tripping on the hangings. By the time I have dressed, the others have gone down to breakfast. As I brush my hair, I look at myself in the mirror. I am a short, round boy with wispy blond hair and small washed-out blue eyes. I am nothing to my handsome, daring friends. Sometimes I really do wonder why I am friends with them, why they let me be in their little group. I remember in the beginning of our first year, when I sat alone on the train, alone and afraid and knowing absolutely no one. My family lived in an all-muggle town, and my half-muggle mother had insisted that I go to a muggle primary school, and therefore I hadn't met any wizarding children. Even now I can't comprehend why my parents choose to live this way. On the Hogwart's Express for the first time, I had been staring out the window, blind to the scenery and thinking about my mother and her teary farewell. James had stumbled into the carriage, dragging his trunk behind him, and talking to someone standing outside. He turned and saw me,
"Oh, sorry, do you mind if we sit in here? Everywhere else is taken," I had nodded, not brave enough to protest. He had tumbled onto a seat, a small boy with unruly black hair and glasses, and after him had come a tiny blond girl, who I had later been introduced to as Kea Sarkie. James had known her before coming to Hogwarts. James had started to talk to me, seemingly not caring about my weight or shyness, as the boys at my primary school had. At first wary of such attention from a so obviously intelligent boy, I had eventually relaxed and began to talk. And then Sirius had arrived. He had burst into the compartment flushed and heaving for breath, and motioning for us to be quiet.
"Malfoy's coming, hide me," he had said, as if this was all that needed explaining. I suppose James would have had some idea as to what was going on, as they'd been friends before Hogwarts, but Kea and I had no idea who Sirius was. Obviously after the train trip James and Sirius were the only people I knew, so I naturally hung around with them. And then I stuck, I suppose, like a annoying little fly that buzzes around you just won't be brushed away. Oh dear. What a depressing thought. Once at Hogwarts we became friends with Remus. For the first time ever I had friends, real friends who actually cared wether I lived or died. It sometimes scares me even now, and the thought of losing such friends would be too horrible to contemplate.
Sighing, I at last drag my thoughts from the past and go downstairs to face the day. At breakfast, everyone is more tense than usual, particularly the fifth and seventh years. We juniors supposedly don't have as much to worry about, but I know that my passing the second year will be touch and go all the way. That reminds me of our on-going animagus project. If I weren't so utterly hopeless I might bring myself to feel excitement at the prospect. But as it is, I see it as an idea that could go dangerously wrong, especially for me. After all, according to Professor McGonagall there have only been seven animagus in the past one hundred years. Who do I think I'm kidding, imagining that I could perfect the transformation? Sirius is completely blasé about the whole matter of course, he can help when the time comes, he says. But I do not speak my mind because I do not want to go against the majority, I don't want to lose my friends. In other words, I am a snivelling, pathetic wretch who can't bring himself to speak out against an obviously idiotic plan. With I sigh, I lethargically spoon porridge into my mouth, knowing I should probably be looking over my notes, as Remus is. I glare at his hunched form resentfully. Of course he is not going to fail the exams, yet he still feels he must make a great show of anxiety and last minute studying. Sirius and James are the complete opposite, laughing and joking as if it were any other day.
"Did you hear the one about McGonagall and the Giant Squid?" Sirius is asking the Gryffindor table. I have not heard the one about McGonagall and the Giant Squid, and nor will I get to, for Professor McGonagall is standing right behind Sirius as he speaks, glaring at him. She clears her throat,
"You were saying, Mr Black?" she asks as he stops mid sentence as he turns slowly around, a look of exaggerated terror on his face. The Gryffindors snigger slightly, but are silenced by one scowl from McGonagall. Sirius often wonders what kind of social life Professor McGonagall led as a child. James often wonders wether it was physically possible for her to have ever been a child full stop. She can't be very old at all, and yet she wears her hair in a severe bun every single day and is the most irascible, ridged, ruthlessly fair person you could ever hope to meet. Now McGonagall is leaving the table with one last stern word. Sirius is sniggering, Lily Evans is glaring at him and the rest of Gryffindor are getting back to their own conversations. I rest my fat little head in my hands and sigh. It is going to be a long day.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Our first exam is Potions, worst luck. Potions is my very worst subject, and that is saying a lot. It is not that the teacher is incompetent, as is the case with Herbology, it is just that my feeble mind does not seem to be able to process the most simple of recipes. Indeed, Professor Hara is one of the most enthusiastic teachers I have ever met, and she tries to help me whenever she can. But I fear I am destined to fail potions. In the dungeons, it is cold and slimy. Professor Hara tries to cheer it up a bit by adding some colour here and there, but their really isn't much you can do for a dungeon. Sighing, I look down at the test paper and read the first question of the theory section:
1) What is the name given to the concoction that will effectively put a grown man to sleep for a period of approximately ten days?
What kind of question is that? I glance over at Sirius, who appears to be having no problems with the first question and is casually scrawling down answers without any visible signs of concentration. Grinding my teeth, I turn to watch the boy beside me, Severus Snape, a Slytherin with greasy hair and a long nose. He almost makes me feel handsome! Snape is one of the people Sirius dislikes. Mostly this is because he is friends with Lucius Malfoy, and older boy who Sirius detests. Snape is so engrossed in his work that he will not notice if I sneak a look at his answers, and there is no other way I am going to pass the test. Feeling slightly guilty, I begin to steal quick glances at his paper, looking around the room now and then so as not to appear too suspicious. I hastily scribble down as many of Snape's answers as I can see; hopefully he has studied hard. I have only just finished bodging the last theory question when it is time for the practical. It is nearly as bad as I expected. All through the exam I keep fumbling with the ingredients and getting the combinations wrong. My only consolation is that while my sleeping potion is not the olive-green shade James' is, it is at least not the violent magenta Kea Sarkie has managed to produce.
"I forgot to add the dog's liver," Kea admits as we make our way to lunch after potions, "I was just so flustered by that question on wether there's a potion to keep a werewolf down and if their was suggest ingredients that would be essential. I was thinking about it all through the practical. I seriously can't remember learning anything about that!" The blond girl is sincerely worried about how she'll do in the test! Pah, she'll get good marks even if she did stuff up the practical. She always does, just like James and Sirius, just like Remus. Just like every single bloody Gryffindor except me!
"Well, I wouldn't get too hung up about it," Sirius replies casually, "It's only second-year potions, after all." He grins, giving Remus a meaningful look, "And I can assure you that there is no potion to help a werewolf." Kea doesn't notice Remus nod sadly, but she does give Sirius a curious look,
"How can you possibly know that? I am sure we haven't learnt about it in potions!" Sirius treats her to what he likes to think of as one of his more charming smiles,
"Oh, you know, I have my ways," he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She shrugs him off calmly,
"See you, I'm not going to be late for Herbology," she quickens her pace. Sirius hurries to walk beside her, grinning broadly.
"You're so arrogant, Black!" she says, snorting.
"I can't help natural genius, Sarkie," I hear Sirius' retort carry back through the corridor as they disappear from sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The week of examinations is finally over and I am completely exhausted. It is the weekend and I have until Monday to be free of the knowledge of how badly I have done in the tests. Luckily, there is only one more week of school left, and it promises to be a bludge. The four of us, James, Remus, Sirius and I, are sitting under out favourite beech tree in the sun by the lake. It is so hot that a couple people are swimming, not seeming to care about the giant squid. James is expressing his regret that Lily Evans is not swimming, and the rest of us are calling him a pervert.
"What?" asks James, grinning, "I just want to have a swim with her, show her I'm not really an arrogant bastard-"
"Give it a rest, James," says Remus, laughing and punching him playfully on the shoulder. James, in the mood to over-react, takes a swipe at Remus, and soon they are tussling half-heartedly on the grass. James has Remus in a head lock when Sirius decides to join the fray, yelling loudly. I take a tentative step towards them, wondering wether it is worth getting pummelled. I notice vaguely that the fight is getting closer and closer to the lake. Sirius, who has been surreptitiously creeping up behind me, suddenly gives a feral roar and launches himself at me from behind me. Our momentum carries us both off the edge of the bank and into the water. It occurs to me, as I flail beneath the water, that I have never been a strong swimmer, and how lucky I am that the water is not deep. Coughing and spluttering, I stand in the water, glaring at Sirius, who is now dragging Remus into the water by one foot. Howling with laughter, he begins to go for James, but before he can do anything, James dive-bombs into the lake with an almighty splash. Glancing around at the lake, I notice that many of the previously non-swimming students have followed our example and are screaming and laughing in the lake. I wonder how long it will take for a teacher to come out and tell us off. But there is no sign of a responsible adult, and we are young and insane. Soon a massive game of Marco Polo begins, made up of most of the junior school and those seniors who have, according to James and Sirius anyway, not been corrupted by the likes of Professor McGonagall. A girl called Pricilla Weasley is currently 'it', and I hope to God she does not get me. I have never liked water sports, especially not Marco Polo. My experiences of wandering blindly around in neck-deep water yelling myself hoarse and vainly brandishing my arms in the air have not been pleasant. Sighing miserably, I limp out of the water, my sopping wet robes making it difficult to walk. I glance back at the others, noting that only handful of the seething mass of screeching students have had the sense to remove their robes before entering the water. I peel of my own black robes and sit on the bank, dressed in my faded old jeans and a singlet, probably looking even more like a fat blob than usual. I know I must look the picture of misery. I idly watch the proceeds in the lake, now the vividly redheaded Pricilla Weasley has caught Sirius, (probably because he wanted to get caught rather than any real skill). He is now making loud snarling noises and thrashing about wildly, his eyes shut tight for all to see (why can't I make a fool of myself and still be considered cool?). Everyone is laughing and squealing at him.
It takes no time at all for their squeals to turn into screams. I feel like I am watching some kind of black and white, silent movie. My hearing seems to have left me, and all I can see is the hundreds of writhing bodies with faces contorted in soundless screams. It takes me a full minute to realise that I myself am screaming. Without realising it, I stand up and begin to wave my arms and jump up and down. My brain tells me I should run, but the message does not seem to be able to get to my legs. It is like a scene from an old horror film, a giant beast is rising from the water, its massive tentacles groping for the panicking students. At first I think it is the giant squid, but then I remember that a squid does not have eight eyes and multiple mouths with dripping fangs. I watch transfixed as my peers scramble over one another in their effort to get clear of the water, pursued by the bulbous, pulsating creature. For a moment I see Sirius' almost bone-white face rise above the rest, clawing for air, but his robes soon pull him down again, and a mass of bodies rush over the top. The shock of seeing my friend drowning seems to galvanise me into action. I rush to the water's edge, and lying flat on my stomach I thrust my arm into the water to try to help anyone who cannot make it over the bank. My small hand encounters someone's wrist and I clamp down as hard as I can. My pathetic arm muscles do not help matters, and it takes all my strength to pull a small brown-haired first-year from the water. As soon as I have her on the shore, a group of students surge over the bank, trampling us as they run screaming towards the castle. Waterlogged robes buffet my face, arms and legs fly out of nowhere to hit me. I curl up on the ground, wincing with every blow. Suddenly someone's body is sprawled across me and I cannot get up! I am fighting for air, even. I feel fear wrenching at my gut. A booted foot descends on my face and all is black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I open my eyes. A woman is peering into my face.
I open my eyes. Remus Lupin is talking to someone over my head.
I open my eyes. All is quiet in the hospital wing.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I sit up in bed. I am dressed in my pyjamas, and apart from a dull ache in my chest, it seems that I am all right. I gaze groggily around at the other occupants of the hospital wing. Well over one hundred students are sleeping in rows upon rows of neat hospital beds. I can hear them breathing, but not one seems to be awake. Some are hidden behind curtains and many have an assortment of potions sitting on shelves beside their beds. The room is dark but for a shaft of moonlight falling from a window, and I judge it to be night. I wonder blearily how the hospital wing can possible hold this number of people and come to the conclusion that it must have been magically enlarged. For a while, I am entertained by the thought of how the hospital wing must look from the outside, bulging with students as it is.
Then I remember the events by the lake. With a sudden jolt of panic, I leap out of my bed. What if people have died? What if my friends have died? What will I do? Staring wildly around at the sleeping students, I race across the room and out the door, only to knock straight into Madam Pomfrey coming in from the other direction,
"Pettigrew!" she exclaims, "What are you doing?"
"What's happened?" I am practically yelling at her, "What's happened to everyone? Did anyone die?" Madam Pomfrey begins to usher me back to my bed,
"No-one died, Pettigrew, everyone is fine. You've been out cold for a full two days, you know!" I turn around, grappling with her,
"But the monster! I saw it going to people! What was it?"
"Now, now, you'll wake these others. Get back to bed, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will explain it to you all soon."
"But-"
"Bed, Pettigrew."
There is no help for it. I must get back into bed.
What am I going to do?
~Elbereth-Gilthoniel~