WRITTEN FOR QLFC, SEASON 9

(theme) belonging

WRITTEN FOR IWSC, SEASON 3

Writing School: Paragraphs

Word Count: 944

I Don't Belong Here

When Remus asks him if something's wrong, Peter tells him how he really feels about his place in their group of friends.

The sound of muffled laughter woke Peter up, but he didn't move from his spot. On any other day, he would have rolled over and asked his friends what they were so happy about, but at that moment, he didn't have it in him to join in their merriment.

"Shh, you'll wake Peter," James whispered as someone tripped and went down with a loud thud.

A pang of profound loneliness swept over Peter at the resulting giggles, and he silently wondered if he had ever truly belonged in his friends' group. They called themselves the Marauders, but was Peter one of them?

It wasn't the first time Peter had doubts about his place in the group, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last. Ever since they had befriended him in their first year at Hogwarts, Peter had speculated why they would want to be his friend. Surely, they were stronger without him. He wasn't anything like them: James was their unofficial leader; Sirius was brave and bold in everything he did; and Remus was the brains behind their pranks.

And Peter was just… Peter. The tag-along. The underachiever.

As he lay half-hidden under his blanket, he listened to his friends fumbling around for their uniforms and bags. They tried to quietly sneak out of there without waking him, and he let them leave, not bothering to open his eyes and peek at them.

Once they were gone, Peter wordlessly got out of bed to get dressed for the day ahead. Though he looked presentable after getting ready, the feeling of not belonging still poked at his conscience throughout the day.

Later that evening, while James and Sirius were in detention with Argus Filch for having set off dung-bombs in Charms class, Peter and Remus were in their dormitory. They were both busy doing their respective homework, their books and stationery untidily scattered across Remus' bed.

Though he was working on his Charms' essay, a subject that Peter was relatively good at, his heart wasn't in it. He kept on scribbling the wrong words and magicking it off, huffing in annoyance.

"Is something wrong, Pete?" Remus finally asked, closing his Potions' textbook and placing it on the mahogany table beside his bed. He turned to look at Peter, giving him his full attention.

"I'm fine," Peter said a bit harshly, scrunching up his parchment and hurling it towards the trash can. The paper bounced off the rim and fell to the carpeted floor, causing Peter to snarl in rage and whip out his wand.

With a fierce Incendio, the parchment was burnt to a crisp, but the carpet caught on fire.

"It doesn't look like you're fine," Remus commented, waving his wand and casting an Aguamenti on the fire to douse it. Once the red-hot flames had disappeared, Remus looked at Peter, who was glaring at his wand with barely suppressed rage. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The dam finally burst.

Peter shot off the bed and kicked the table's leg. It wobbled a little but didn't fall over. "I can't do anything right!" he roared, grabbing his head with both hands.

"What do you mean?" Remus' tone was politely curious, and it edged Peter on.

"I'm stupid! Everyone says so! I'm terrible at magic— I can barely survive a simple test! You three—you're all so good at it! You're so brilliant at everything you do! Nothing can get you down! But me? I can't do anything right! Why do you guys pretend to be my friends, anyway?" Peter cried, yanking on his hair. Tears pricked at his eyes, and a lump formed in his throat.

"What do you mean 'pretend'? Why do you think that?"

"Don't lie to me, Remus! I heard you guys laughing in the morning! James said he didn't want to wake me up, but I was already up! I'm sure you're only my friends because we live in the same room! There's no other reason—"

"You're wrong."

"What?"

"You're wrong, Pete. We're not your friends because we live in the same room. We're your friends because you are just as much of a Marauder as the rest of us," Remus explained patiently, but Peter didn't believe him.

"No. You're wrong. I've never felt like I belonged with you three. I've heard people say that I'm just the tag-along, that I'm not as good as the rest of you—and they're right."

"You're going to believe the others over us?" Remus asked, cocking his head as he inspected Peter. "Do they know you were the first of the Marauders to achieve your Animagus form? Do they know you're the one who found most of the secret passageways in the castle?"

"No, but—"

"Pete, would you rather listen to people who know nothing about you—or those who know you still sleep with your stuffed panda but don't tease you too much for it?" Remus asked pointedly.

"Hey! It's a collectable!" Peter cried, defending his favourite childhood toy. "And James still sleeps with his baby blanket!"

"It's James—what did you expect?" Remus rolled his eyes before gesturing to Peter to come over to the bed.

When Peter sat down beside him, Remus placed his hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Pete… I understand you think you don't belong with us, but you do. You're one of us—no matter what people say, you are one of us. Now, wipe those tears before the Dynamic Duo arrives and thinks that I was torturing you for not doing your homework."

Peter let out a choked sob as he nodded and wiped his tears, feeling as though a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.