Greetings, dear readers! I hope that you have all returned eager to hear my tale; I do not deny that I, Doran, am a master storyteller, so it does not surprise me that some of you may wish for more of my tale! I wish to ask that any and all criticisms and comments on spelling and grammar be directed towards the author, as they are entirely her fault and none of mine; praise should always be given to me! Now, on with the brave tale, and may your hearts be joyful!
Good evening! You all look very tired this evening- what's that? A food fight in the Great Hall? Ah, how wonderful! I'm sorry I missed it; no matter how many of those I witness, I never seem to tire of them. I always enjoy seeing even the dignified and proper students joining in the fun; it gives students from all years and houses a chance to act like children for a few moments. Imagine that, if you will, though it sounds rather ridiculous, but these days the tendency is for children to grow up so very fast. There is no time or tolerance for childish behavior. Well, never fear, boys- you are Gryffindors, which means that long-standing tradition grants you the right to act like children for the entirety of your seven years here. In fact, it is expected! Over the past century, I have watched Gryffindors of all ages and abilities come through, and they all learned to be children. It is a necessary step on the path to learning to be an adult.
My boys- ah, I always seem to think of them that way, for some reason, as if I had some kind of claim on them. But that is foolish- I have no claim but that of memory, mine being the only living memory of those four that survives intact to this day. So many magical things have been destroyed over the years - so much history is shrouded in darkness because there are no witnesses left. Well, I am a witness, and I am willing to share parts of history with you. Yes, Stephen, I know that it does not seem like history to you - but then, who ever said history had to be boring?
I will continue my history, then, the story of my boys. As you may recall, last night I told you that all but Remus had become friends with the others rapidly. Since I found myself liking all four of the boys, I sincerely hoped that the others would soon befriend Remus; I wanted my Gryffindors to get along well. Those first few weeks were very busy, for me as well as for the students, as I insisted on following the first year Gryffindors around wherever they went, as I wanted to see and learn as much about Hogwarts as I could from within the confines of canvas. My own painting hung in a secluded corner of the Gryffindor common room; unfortunately for me, the relative privacy of my corner provided an excellent opportunity for students to engage in activities that they would rather keep hidden from others, and as watching teenagers publicly display their affections for one another was not exactly appealing to me, I spent very little time in my own painting. Fortunately for me, the paintings at Hogwarts are a roving bunch, all inclined to wander, and as most of the older figures liked to congregate in certain areas of the school less likely to be disturbed by the sounds of children, there were always empty portraits for me to occupy on my trips around the school. Something you children may not quite realize is exactly how large Hogwarts is- there are many passageways and rooms that have not been entered by any student or teacher for many years now; they sit and gather dust in silence, holding onto the memories of the generations they have seen come and go. Just a word of advice for curious explorers - it really does help to make a map! But as I was saying, I did like to wander back then, and I discovered much of the castle as I followed in the tracks of students.
As I followed my boys through their first few weeks at Hogwarts, I began to learn a great deal about each of them. They all had their own strengths and weaknesses in their classes, and their personalities were so very different that it was sometimes difficult to understand how they could get along at all! To my disappointment, I saw that the three friends were not making any efforts to befriend Remus; in all honesty, he was not making any great effort either. He was never unfriendly or offensive in any way, and he made clear efforts to spend time with the others and to engage in polite conversation, but he was a self-contained and solitary child. The other three were great mischief-makers, pranksters who delighted in wreaking havoc, although they were careful to make sure that no one was harmed by their pranks. Unless, of course, they wanted that person to be harmed, in which case, they invariably were. The three did not seem to have overly developed moral codes- but then who am I to judge, I who spent all of my time spying on them?
They took especial delight in tormenting the Slytherin students - now, now, don't look so shocked, Jonathan! If you'll remember, I told you last night that the Gryffindors and Slytherins got on exceptionally badly back then? You must realize, at that time there was a great deal of fear on both sides. The Gryffindors feared the rise of another dark wizard like Grindlewald, and the Slytherins feared the dissolution of their way of life. They were convinced that to allow Muggle-born students to study magic and to intermarry with the pureblooded wizards and witches would cause their entire society to collapse or to reform itself into a shape not of their choosing. While these concerns occupied the adults far more than the children of that time, children are very good at picking up on things they are not told; they knew that their parents were afraid, and knew who was to blame. James and the other Gryffindors had strong aversions to Dark Magic of all forms, and in their stubborn, obstinate ways, were convinced that all Slytherins used Dark Magic. As people used to remind each other then, "there's not one witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't a Slytherin!" Of course, we know better than that, and so did they, but prejudice, you see, blinds people to the truth. Understanding this, you must not judge them too harshly - though they were indeed responsible for their unkind actions, they were greatly shaped by their circumstances and the culture in which they were raised. It is far too easy to judge those who came before us for their failures, but understanding must temper our harsh judgements.
So what was I saying? Ah yes- the three boys used to greatly enjoy playing tricks on Slytherin students. Many was the time they sent a Slytherin to the hospital wing after a potion "accidentally" exploded in class; after their third week of classes, everyone was ready to swear that James and Sirius had never once managed to complete a potion properly, though everyone was also aware that both students had the ability to do so, should they ever decide that applying themselves to their schoolwork was more beneficial than using it to cause green blotches to appear on enemy skin, or to make an adversary's hands look like scorpions. Thanks to this constant mischief, the three spent a great deal of time in detention - always in separate detentions, though, because no teacher would be stupid enough to put any two of them together.
At the end of their third week of classes, I learned a great deal about Peter Pettigrew. That Friday morning in Transfiguration, Peter was having a difficult time with his work; he was not as brilliant as his roommates, and often needed assistance to keep up with classwork. Despite Peter's cold behavior towards him, Remus was always willing to lend a hand (unless it was with potions, as he fought his own battles with that subject) and assist Peter with his work. He was an excellent tutor, I must say, and I often learned more by listening to him than from attending the classes with the students.
"Mr. Pettigrew!" Professor McGonagall said sharply, running out of patience. "Did you read the chapter at all before class?"
"Err, I - that is, no, professor." Peter said, hanging his head. The professor shook her head sighing.
"Well, since we cannot have you slowing down the progress of this class today, I am afraid we will have to move on, and you will need to get another student to assist you with your studies this evening. I will expect to see improved results by next class. Normally, I would suggest that Mr. Potter or Mr. Black assist you-"
"Sorry! Can't!" James said cheerfully. The boy was nearly always cheerful. "Love to, you see, but we have detention this evening."
"As well as every other evening this week." Sirius put in helpfully, flashing his most charming smile.
"And for the next hundred years." James finished, sounding gleeful.
"Yes." McGonagall said dryly, looking far from amused. I, however, was having a difficult time not laughing aloud. "I know, as I am the one who was forced to give you a week's worth of detention not fifteen minutes ago, Mr. Potter! Now, as I was saying, Mr. Pettigrew, since both of your friends will be otherwise occupied this evening, perhaps Mr. Lupin would be kind enough..."
"Ah, right." Remus said, looking up from his careful notes, which he had been emending. His face was as kindly devoid of expression as was usual as he replied, although I though he looked more pale and tired than was normal. He did not seem to be letting illness interfere with his work, though, so I supposed I was probably imagining things. "I'm very sorry, Professor, Peter, but I will not be able to help either; I'm going home to visit my sick grandmother tonight." He gave a small apologetic smile.
"Oh, right, of- of course, Mr. Lupin. I'm sorry- I had quite forgotten." McGonagall looked rather flustered; unusual for her, I thought, but I did not know why. "Right then- Anna, would you be willing to help Peter study?"
Anna, a pretty Ravenclaw girl who was quite good in Transfigurations, nodded, and McGonagall was finally able to get on with the business of teaching her class. I wondered, though, why Peter suddenly looked so sour and sullen.
After dinner that evening, the four were up in their dormitory together for a few moments. Remus was quietly packing a small, worn satchel with the things he would need during his visit to his grandmother. James and Sirius were putting off going to detention, even though they knew they would likely be in trouble if they were late, and Peter was sulking.
"Going to St. Mungo's?" James asked Remus suddenly. "My father knows most everyone who works there- he's very important, you see."
"That's nice, but no, I'm not going there. My grandmother's a Muggle, you see, so it would probably be a bit of a shock to her to spend time at a wizarding hospital." Remus replied.
"Your grandmother's a Muggle?" Peter said, astonished out of his sulks.
"Yes- my grandfather too, actually. My father was Muggle-born, you see - first wizard in his family." Remus finished packing, stood, and looked out the window towards the setting sun. "I have to get going - see you in a few days, and good luck with your studies, Peter." Ducking his head in something like a courteous bow, Remus left the room. James and Sirius followed a minute later, finally deciding to attend their detentions.
Peter was left alone, looking both surprised and angry about something. Muttering to himself, he headed to the library to meet Anna. Their study session lasted about half and hour, with Anna trying patiently to help him with his difficulties, but Peter was in a worse mood than I had ever seen from him. He was quite rude to the poor girl, snapping at her and refusing to make an effort. Finally she stood, a look of annoyance on her face.
"What is your problem, Pettigrew? I try to help you and this is the thanks I get?"
"Help me? You're just trying to make me look stupid, to make me fail!" Peter sneered, his usually pleasant face looking quite disturbing. "I can't believe McGonagall wants me to work with a filthy little Mudblood!" I apologize for the language, children, but it was his word, not mine!
"What did you just call me?" Anna was furious now.
"A Mudblood, because you are one! And you dare to act as though you're better than me- I'm a pureblood, I can trace my family back-"
With a resounding crack, Anna slapped Peter across the face and stormed out of the library. Peter resembled nothing so much as a gasping fish as he sat gaping after her, until a low, nasty chuckle made him whirl around.
"That must hurt, Pettigrew, insulted and beaten up by a Mudblood!" Severus Snape, the rather greasy Slytherin first-year who got on especially badly with Peter and his friends, sat with a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Not a word from you, Snape!" Peter said in a threatening tone. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, my friends will get you for it, I'll see that they do!"
"Hiding behind your friends as well as your blood, Pettigrew? Not very brave at all, are you? Though I can understand you, you know. You have nothing to be proud of except the purity of your blood. You have no talent, no charisma, no looks, and though your family may be pureblood, they have no name or money! You are truly a sad case, Pettigrew." And with that, Snape left, sweeping away rapidly.
I thought hard. I had seen a side of Peter that I had never known existed before. It was true that compared to his bigger friends, Peter might seem somewhat lacking to the casual observer, but they accepted him for who he was, and I had grown fond of him in my own way, as I had all the boys. Peter was not stupid, not by a long shot, but he had trouble memorizing things and the theory in many subjects tended to trip him up. Still, he performed fairly well despite these difficulties; his biggest problem was that he did not like to put forth the effort in studying, and so ended up falling behind the class. Being friends with James and Sirius did nothing to help this tendency, as they both hated doing their homework and would often procrastinate until the last moment. Peter was, however, a good and loyal friend, and could be a great deal of fun as he had a sly sense of humor that could often go unnoticed by those who did not know him well.
Despite his good characteristics, however, it seemed that Snape had hit a nerve in Peter. He sat at the table, glaring silently at his book, before slamming it shut and leaving the library in a huff, followed by the librarian, who was scolding him harshly in a barely audible whisper because he was being too loud. He stalked up to Gryffindor tower, where he sat down on his bed, his face still dark and unpleasant. Observing that there was no-one around (with the exception of a certain painting of a handsome boy, but who notices paintings?), Peter jumped to his feet and started pacing, talking to himself in an unhappy mutter.
"Snape's wrong! I'm not afraid! I don't think I'm worthless, like he said, I just- it's just... Well, I've always been proud of my family! I've had every reason to be! We're an old family, and I was told to uphold the family honor, and my father always said that it would be trouble if we mixed with Mudbloods... we are purebloods! Why shouldn't I be proud of that? At least it's one thing about me that no one can insult! If nothing else, I know that no-one is better than me in that area! Is that so wrong, wanting to have something to be proud of?" Now Peter was agitated, pacing faster, swinging his hands about as he talked.
"And Anna- she probably was just trying to make me look bad! Those Ravenclaws, always thinking they're so smart! She knows that if I fail, she'll look better- it's not my fault I have so many problems with that work, it's just that people are trying to sabotage me!" He kicked the corner of his trunk, then sat down quickly on his bed as his toes began to hurt fiercely. I've always wondered what that felt like, by the way - to be physically hurt or sick. Curious thought. Anyway, as I was saying, Peter was still thinking aloud. His eyes narrowed as he hit on another subject.
"And Lupin- he's a halfblood, is he? I knew I never liked him; James and Sirius are obviously much better sorts- both purebloods like me. Lupin must be jealous, or maybe he feels inferior to us - and he ought to! After all, since our blood is pure, it must mean that we're stronger and better than he is. I wish I didn't have to live with a half-blood - I mean, better than living with a Mudblood, but still- they oughtn't to have Sorted someone like that into the same house as James and Sirius and me! He doesn't belong here. I don't like him."
Now Peter was sulking, sitting on his bed, clutching his swollen toes, tears prickling his eyes as he pouted. "Why can't he see that he's not wanted and just go away? Well, I don't think James or Sirius like him either; they can help me! It's nice to have friends that people are afraid of." Peter thought again for a moment. "I wish people were afraid of me too- then I wouldn't have to threaten them with my friends, and I wouldn't ever have to be afraid of bigger students, and they wouldn't dare insult me..." Peter was getting sleepy, his words slowing and slurring as he lay down on his pillow. "No-one would bother me. I want to be strong. Make the bad people go away; make the Mudbloods leave me alone. Then nobody could hurt my family's honor..." Peter drifted off to sleep, his quiet snores finally reaching my ears, and I sat in thought in the near silence.
Peter was a proud person, that I had already known, but he did not have much to take pride in, so he had decided that his family honor and the purity of his blood were traits that he could pride himself upon, even though they had next to nothing to do with him. That pride, however, made him lash out against others who he saw as a threat, and apparently he thought that any wizard who was not a pureblood was threatening to those ideals. I wished that I had had the nerve to speak to him; I would have advised him to, instead, take pride in accomplishments of his own. Then he wouldn't need to feel frightened of people just because of their ancestry (which I, having none, found rather ridiculous!).
I was still pondering all of this when James and Sirius returned, and I wondered what they would think of Peter's prejudices. I knew for a fact that Sirius found the prejudice against non-purebloods to be very distasteful; he had punched Peter for that exact kind of behavior on the train, and since that time, Peter had never shown signs of those feelings or thoughts, until this evening. Yes, Sirius would likely be quite upset if he found out how Peter had treated Anna, so I assumed that Peter would make no mention of the incident. After that evening, I thought I understood Peter somewhat better. It did not make me respect him more, but I thought that I had a clearer understanding of how he thought and felt. I was glad for that; the more time I spent with these boys, the more I wished to know about them and understand them.
Yes, Darren, it was very wrong of Peter to treat Anna that way, but like I said, his parents had taught him that that was right. He didn't know, like you do, that everyone is equal, no matter what their bloodtype. What's that? You want to hear more about James, do you? Well, I shall tell you more about him tomorrow night, that I shall. You may not get tired of listening to my tale, but I do tire after telling it for a while. Patience, now, and you will hear more before long!