Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own it. Most of the characters don't belong to me; they are either property of JK Rowling or the people at Magic's Finest. I am only flattering through very poor imitation. Jonathan Steerpike doesn't belong to me; he's one of the many wonderful characters on Magic's Finest (well, Steerpike isn't exactly a wonderful person, but you get the picture).

There Are Always Circumstances

Chapter 1

I entered my sixth year with not a care in the world; I had done decently on my O.W.L.s, earning five. Not as many as my friends, but it was good enough for me. I had three of the best friends a guy could ever ask for, and I was an illegal animagus. I had the ability to transform into a rat. Pretty impressive, right?

So far, the first couple of weeks of term were going great. We hadn't gotten into much trouble, and the homework load wasn't too heavy. Sure, it would get worse as the term went on, but I didn't want to think about that. Might as well enjoy the peace while it lasted.

One evening, I was getting restless, fidgeting as Remus tutored a couple of the younger students in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Sirius and James were playing chess. Those two always played chess. The world would end, and they'd probably playing chess. Or looting the nearest joke shop, though what they would do with prank items at the end of an apocalypse was beyond me.

"Oi, Peter, will you stop fidgeting?" asked James. "You're breaking my concentration, and Sirius might beat me."

"Dream on, Potter, I could beat you blindfolded with one arm tied behind my back," Sirius bluffed with a smirk, one that looked a lot like his younger brother's. Not that anyone would tell him, mind, considering Sirius' attitude towards his family.

I could tell this could degenerate into a 'mine is bigger than yours' contest soon, and I didn't want to be around for that. Sure, they were okay once in a while, but with those two it could get pretty competitive, what with actually threatening to whip them out and everything. No, thanks, that isn't my cup of tea, though I'm sure that some of the witches in the room wouldn't object.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," I said, getting up.

"Do you need my cloak?" asked James.

"I think I'll be okay," I replied. "It's not even curfew yet, and Filch won't be making his rounds for another half an hour or so."

"Well, if you're sure then," said James.

"He's a big boy, Prongs, let him go already," said Sirius. "Besides, it's your move."

I didn't stick around to hear the rest of the argument; I wanted to go and clear my head. I made my way down to the kitchens, which I had found the year before when I asked one of the house elves I had caught in the dorms one night. Usually no one sees them, but I wasn't feeling that well that day and I didn't want to go to the Hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey scares me.

I was walking down the corridor that led to the kitchens, hoping that no one was around. I didn't want anyone to try and wheedle the secret of the kitchens out of me. After all, if I told, it wouldn't be a secret.

Up ahead I saw a short, slightly pudgy girl poised to tickle the pear. That's what you do to get into the kitchens; you tickle the pear, and it turns into a handle. The girl must have heard me, because at that moment she turned around to face me, narrowing her eyes. I saw the green and silver patch sewn on her robe and the matching tie. Oh great, just my luck, I thought. I'm out at night and I get caught by a bloody Slytherin!

"What do you want?" she asked nastily. "And why are you alone? Aren't you attached to the hip of those friends of yours?"

"We're not always together, you know," I said, slightly huffy. She was hostile, too, which didn't help matters any. I was beginning to wish that I hadn't left the confines of the common room, no matter how antsy I was getting.

"Well, it just seems that way," the girl said. She waited impatiently for something, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she tapped her highly-polished Mary-Jane shoe on the floor. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," I replied with a grin. I was making her mad; that was a good thing.

"You Gryffindors are so difficult," she muttered with a frustrated sigh. She reached up to tickle the pear. She stood back and waited for something to happen. Nothing did.

"Umm, isn't the handle supposed to appear?" I asked. The girl glared at me with so much venom that I had to suppress the flinch.

"I know that," she snapped. She turned back to the portrait and turned her glare on it. "Don't you dare do this to me again!" She reached up and tickled it again, and this time the portrait swung open. Her face lit up in a bright smile, and it was the first time I had seen a Slytherin truly smile. I was gobsmacked. I couldn't move. I couldn't think. I couldn't do anything. It was frightening.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked, back to her surly demeanor, but now I could tell it was only for show. I shook my head and scrambled into the portrait, closing the door behind me.

"What is sir and miss wanting?" asked a little elf at my knee. I looked to the girl, who I still had no clue what she was called, for inspiration.

"Chocolate," she said. "Lots and lots of chocolate."

The little elf scurried away and the girl and I sat down at a little table that was against the wall for people who visited the kitchens. We stared at each other, an awkward silence descending upon us. Seriously, what could a Slytherin and a Gryffindor talk about?

"So umm yeah, what's your name?" I asked. Oh yeah, real smooth there.

"Miranda Elizabeth Delaney," the girl, Miranda obviously, replied. "If I had any friends, I'd like them to call me Mira. What's yours?"

"Peter Pettigrew," I replied. I noticed the prefect's badge on her robes. "But I'm sure you already knew that, seeing as you're a prefect."

"I knew you were one of Lupin's friends," Miranda said. "I just didn't know which one you were."

Just then, an elf brought up a tray of fudge brownies, my favorite. By the way Miranda was eyeing them, they were her favorite too.

"Well, ladies first," I said, gesturing to the brownies. Miranda grabbed one and took a huge bite, her eyes closing in pure bliss. "What brings you down here anyway?"

"Steerpike was making fun of me again," Miranda replied after swallowing. She didn't elaborate, and I didn't ask. After all, I had just met her. "What about you?"

"My friends were all busy with other things, and I needed to get away," I replied. I had begun to feel alienated slightly this year, because Remus had his Prefect duties, and James and Sirius had started pursuing girls. It just got…lonely, I guess, now that I thought about it. "Who's Steerpike?"

"Jonathan Steerpike, sixth year Slytherin," Miranda replied. "Most arrogant and irritating person I've ever met."

"Oh," I said. We ate in silence for a while; after all, it was rude to eat with your mouth full. Besides, the brownies were delicious, and I didn't want to spoil the moment. It was very rare for a Slytherin and a Gryffindor to sit together without glaring or hexing each other.

Once we'd each eaten about five brownies each—how she could pack that much away, I'll never know—we bid the elves good bye and left the kitchens via the portrait. When we got there, there was a rather unpleasant surprise waiting for us.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" asked Filch. I cringed; my night was going so well, too. I guess good things must come to an end. "Two students out of bed, is it? You'll be scrubbing the trophies in the trophy room in detention!"

"If I may speak, sir," said Miranda, her voice sickeningly sweet. "I caught him in the kitchens, and I was just about to report him. I'm a prefect, see, and I can handle this."

She took the prefect badge off of her robes and handed it to Filch. The caretaker examined the badge; probably making sure it was the real deal instead of a cheap copy. He looked like he was about to believe it when that dust colored furball he calls a pet got his attention.

"You both were coming out of the kitchen," Filch snarled.

Am I just going to take this? I asked myself. She's trying to get me into trouble! Am I going to stop her?

"Oh, but sir, I was catching him in the act!" Miranda said. "Please, believe me, I have every intention of going to McGonagall and reporting him."

"I know you're lying, you little bit of scum," said Filch, and I saw something akin to fear or sadness cross Miranda's features. I had no idea what was going through her mind; all I could think about is getting out of there. Maybe I should just run for it, I thought.

However, something rather fortuitous happened. Filch's dust-colored cat wound in between his legs, startling him and causing him to drop his lantern. Said lantern landed on the cat, causing it to yelp.

"RUN!" I exclaimed. I didn't wait to see if Miranda got away. I just ran in the direction of Gryffindor tower and I didn't look back.

OoOoOo

I ran all the way to the common room, not stopping until I got to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She looked at me disdainfully as I huffed and panted, trying to catch my breath. I was not in the best of shape.

"Waddiwasi," was all I said. That was evidently a password, because the portrait opened up and I scrambled into the common room, my face still red and sweaty. Thankfully the common room was empty, save for Remus, James and Sirius.

"What happened to you?" asked James.

"Filch happened," I replied. I flopped down in a chair and let my breath out with a long whoosh. "I just barely got away. Lucky for me, he was stupid enough to drop his lantern on that damn cat of his."

"Good on ya, Peter," Sirius congratulated me, thumping me on the back. It was too much, and I fell off the couch. "Ooh, sorry mate."

"I-it's okay," I wheezed, getting up off of the floor. I sat back down in my chair and let out a sigh. "I think I've had way too much excitement for one night."

"Yeah, too much excitement for you can't be good, eh?" asked Sirius with an amused smirk. "Have to save that heart of yours for the full moon, right?"

Remus shot Sirius a warning look, but there wasn't really much point; we were the only people in the common room, on account of the fact that everyone had gone to bed.

"Oh shut up," I grumbled, stifling a yawn. I was really tired now, what with the excitement and the running and the talking. "I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Yeah, okay Peter," said Remus with a sympathetic smile. "We'll be up in a bit. Pleasant dreams."

"Sleep tight," added Sirius.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," finished James. I just grinned tiredly at them before taking my leave to the dorms, hoping I would fall asleep before any of them came up.

OoOoOo

So…good? Bad? Should I keep writing, or should I stop and never ever let my work see the light of day again? You guys be the judge.