Saturday, May 27, 1978
The air crackled with nervous energy as James stood in front of his team, beaming at them as he gathered his thoughts to give his usual pre-match pep talk. His Quidditch robes had a crisp, clean scent, and his lucky whistle was a comforting weight around his neck. All last night and this morning he had buzzed with anticipation, pacing around the common room and throwing a Quaffle at the dormitory ceiling until Lily threatened to force Draught of Peace down his throat if he didn't sit still. Now, looking around at the sea of scarlet robes and determined faces, a sense of calm settled over James. His heart no longer pounded as cold sweat formed on his skin. Thinking about the outcome of the match no longer made his chest tighten. Instead, he longed to feel the rush of wind on his face and hear the roar of the crowd. Today he was going to do what he did best while Lily sat in the stands, clapping and cheering and admiring his Sloth Grip Roll. Today was a good day.
"This is it," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets and straightening. "The last one. My last game with the best bloody Quidditch team Hogwarts has ever seen. You know what to do, and you've been training bloody hard, so I don't need to tell you to make this a good one. It's been a fucking honor and a privilege, and I love you all –" He held up his hand and nodded at Bubbles. "Don't look at me like that, Bubbles – you know I'm a sentimental sod, and you should expect this by now. So let's go out there and play like it's the last match we'll ever play, because for me, it is, and I better not see any of you laughing at me when they hand me the Quidditch cup and I start crying."
His fingers traced the whistle around his neck, and then he strode out of the locker room and onto the Quidditch pitch, blinking in the bright sunshine as the stands exploded into deafening applause.
"There are the scouts," Bubbles said, pointing to the first row of the Gryffindor stands. "They're all here for you, James. Nobody on Hufflepuff is even worth a look."
James didn't even glance at the scouts. He had allowed himself to mourn his Quidditch career, but now it no longer mattered. Instead, he scanned the crowd until he spotted Lily's dark red hair and watched her for a moment, filling up with joy as she threw her head back and laughed. Then he turned and strode over to shake hands with the Hufflepuff Captain, letting everything fall away except his broom and his teammates and the tactics they had spent hours practicing
Later when the whistle blew and James saw Seven streaking toward him with the Snitch clutched in her hand, he was almost disappointed. The weather was perfect, and the crowd was enthusiastic – he could have played for another several hours. Then he landed his broom and saw the elated expressions on the faces of his teammates just before he was engulfed in a tangle of limbs, and the disappointment was driven away by the deafening cheers and celebratory shouts.
"We did it!" Seven wrapped her arms around him, and James could feel the Snitch still struggling in her hand. When she pulled away, he saw tears running down her cheeks.
"You were incredible," James said, raising his voice so she could hear him over Bubbles's shrieks of triumph. "But why are you crying, you sentimental sod?"
She laughed. "You're crying, too, you bloody hypocrite."
He reached up and found that his cheeks were wet, but he didn't care. "I'm fucking proud of you, Seven," he said, and then he was being hoisted into the air by Bubbles and Sunshine. Someone thrust the Quidditch Cup into his hands, and for a moment he stared at it, dazzled by the bright, gleaming surface. He was vaguely aware that he was moving; Bubbles and Sunshine bumped and jostled him as they made their way through the crowd of laughing, cheering Gryffindors.
"You did it, Prongs!"
James saw Sirius pushing his way through the mass of students, shouting at a couple of third years blocking his path and stumbling into someone else. Remus grabbed the back of his robes and hauled him upright, and then Peter and Mary and Lily were running up behind them, all wearing wide smiles and carrying Gryffindor banners they must have made the night before while he was at practice.
"You were brilliant," Lily said, reaching up to touch his arm. "I knew you would be."
"Can you put me down?" James said, shaking Bubbles's arm until he followed instructions and set James down. He didn't bother handing the Cup off to someone else before he threw his arms around Lily. People filtered by, patting him on the back and yelling congratulatory sentiments, but he ignored them all as Lily pressed her face close to his and kissed his sweaty cheek.
"That was amazing," she gushed, adjusting his glasses and lacing her fingers through his as she began to guide him through the crowd toward the castle. "McGonagall was sitting a few rows away from us – Padfoot kept having to hide his flask, but anyway, you could tell she was impressed."
"Do you know how many goals you scored?" Sirius pressed the flask into James's hand and clapped him on the back so hard he almost tumbled forward into Bubbles.
"Twenty-five!" Peter said, glowing with pride. "It's a new personal best."
"I was asking Prongs, you prat," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"I hate Quidditch, and I wasn't bored for a second," Mary said, hugging James from behind. He detected a hint of firewhisky on her breath.
"That last goal was perfect," Remus said, draping his arm around James's shoulder. His words were slightly slurred and his eyes were bright. "The one where you did the Sloth Grip Roll to avoid the Bludger and then pulled yourself up in time to catch the Quaffle? Well done."
"Did you hear that, Seven?" James said, giving Remus an approving nod. "Your boyfriend is speaking intelligently about Quidditch."
"He's learning," Seven said, disentangling herself from Bubbles to put her arm around Remus's waist. "Did you like my Wronski Feint, by the way?"
"Best Wronski Feint I've ever seen," Remus said, turning to grin at her and stumbling as the ground began to slope.
Something dropped onto James's head; he glanced upward and saw the brim of Sirius's cowboy hat.
"You owe me a Sickle, Moony," Sirius said from behind them. "I knew he'd be crying before he even landed his broom." James felt Sirius attaching something to his back; he peered over his shoulder and saw a Gryffindor banner draped over his shoulders like a cape. "Moony gave you too much credit, Prongs. He reckoned you'd wait until you at least had the Quidditch Cup in your hands to cry like the sentimental sod you are."
James's eyes widened in panic when he realized he was no longer carrying the Quidditch Cup.
"Where—?" he began.
"Don't worry, I've got it," Seven said, holding the trophy in the air for him to see.
James breathed a sigh of relief, allowing himself to be carried along with the crowd of gleeful Gryffindors.
"James Potter?"
There was a light touch on James's shoulder. Lily and Remus released him, and James turned to see a man with a Tutshill Tornados emblem on his robes holding out his hand and flashing him an ingratiating smile.
"I'd like to talk to you about–" he began, but James held up a hand.
"I'm not interested, mate. I mean, I am – I'd much rather play for you than for the Magpies or the Arrows." He peered around at the two other scouts, waiting a short distance away with polite, expectant expressions on their faces. "But unfortunately I'm not going to be joining any Quidditch team. I'd say I'm sorry you came all the way here and wasted your time, but watching a good match is never a waste of time, and that was a bloody good match."
The man frowned, disappointed, but nodded. "It was. Your Seeker is excellent."
James grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "Isn't she? Come back next year and talk to her if you need a Seeker. And if you keep having matches like the one last week, you probably should consider a new Seeker."
A wry smile tugged at the man's lips. "I'll keep that in mind. So is there no chance of convincing you to join us?"
James shook his head. "Sorry, no. Out of curiosity, though, what were you going to offer me?"
The man pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and made a show of unrolling it, then handed it to James. James peeked at the figure scrawled across the parchment and nearly dropped it.
"Bloody hell! For an unproven rookie? What if I turn out to be rubbish as soon as I'm facing a team that's halfway decent?" He shook his head, then rolled the parchment up and handed it back to the Tornados scout.
The scout raised his eyebrows. "Are you… are you complaining that we're offering you too much money?"
James shrugged. "I'm just saying, the Tornados management sort of has a reputation for spending their money in all the wrong places. In my opinion, you'd be better off using this money to make a trade for someone with a couple years' experience. I think the Wasps have had about enough of Johnson – he's got some talent if you can put up with the publicity stunts. Or even Algerton – I know the Cannons are rubbish, but she's actually got some skills, and with a bit of training and some decent Beaters to allow her to actually score, I think she could be what you're looking for." He laughed when he saw the scout's bemused expression. "Anyway, I'm going to go give an incoherent victory speech and then get irresponsibly drunk with my team, so thanks for the offer, and have a good evening. If you're staying in Hogsmeade tonight, you should definitely visit the Hog's Head. It's a hidden gem, if you don't mind the smell of goat."
He strode through the crowd, feeling surprisingly cheerful for having just turned down his dream job.
The evening passed in a blur of firewhisky and impromptu speeches and happy tears. James taught the entire team the game he had unimaginatively named Drunk Quidditch; it involved standing on various items of furniture while passing the Quaffle back and forth, and was a great success until Bubbles fell backward off the sofa and landed on top of Peter, who had fallen asleep on the floor. At one point McGonagall came in to shut down the party, but when she allowed Sirius to place his cowboy hat atop her head, James could tell she was just as pleased as they were.
By three in the morning, James and Sirius were the only ones left awake. They lay stretched out on the braided rug in front of the sofa, listening to Peter's soft snores. He sat on the sofa with his head slumped forward on his chest, an open bag of crisps propped in his lap. Beside him Lily slept with her head resting on Mary's shoulder; Remus and Seven had been the only ones smart enough (and sober enough) to drag themselves up to bed.
"Want a cigarette?" Sirius asked, wriggling his pack of Marlboros from his pocket. "The Quidditch season is over, so you may as well."
The thought gave James a pang of sadness, but he pushed the thought aside and took the cigarette from Sirius, jamming it into his mouth and lighting it with his wand after the first three failed attempts.
"I can't believe that was my last Quidditch match," he said, watching the cigarette smoke drifting through the air.
Sirius took a drag on his cigarette, then turned his head to look at James. "You're not going to cry again, are you?"
"Sod you." James watched a Snitch flutter across the room, forgotten after half the team abandoned the game of Drunk Quidditch in favor of dancing on the table. "It's a big day for me. This is the end of a fucking era."
Sirius laughed. "The end of an era – what a James Potter thing to say." He exhaled a long stream of smoke, then reached over to shake Mary's leg when she began to snore.
"Do you ever think about how things would be different if all of this wasn't going on?" James made a vague hand gesture that was meant to encompass the war and all the complications that went along with it.
"Well, I assume you'd be bragging about how the Tornados wasted half their salary budget to get you to join their team," Sirius said, grinning. "And the rest of us would be looking forward to whatever career we've chosen, or panicking about whatever career we've chosen, or scrambling to figure out what the hell we're going to choose for a bloody career. And I was going to say you would probably wait longer to…" He nodded at Lily's sleeping form and then tapped his ring finger. "But knowing you, you probably couldn't help yourself."
James propped himself up on his elbow and grinned. "You're probably right. But how could I not? Look at her, Pads." His eyes lingered on her hair, tousled and falling into her face; the slow rise and fall of her chest; the soft flutter of her eyelids.
Sirius raised his head to look at her and snorted with laughter. "You're right, she's practically irresistible when she's drooling on Macdonald's shoulder like that."
James shoved Sirius's shoulder. "Shut up. She looks cuter when she sleeps than you do."
"Impossible. I look great no matter what I'm doing."
"That is a matter of opinion." James lowered himself back onto the ground and took a long drag on his cigarette. "I wish things could be different, and our biggest problems in a month would be figuring out what to wear to the first day of work or what to nickname my new Tornados teammates. But I guess that's what we're going to be fighting for, so we can have that life eventually once all of this is over."
He flicked a bit of ash onto the floor and watched the Snitch glinting near the portrait hole. Thinking about that elusive future unsettled him, because after so many years of building tension and bad news, peace was a foreign concept. They would have that life "once all of this is over," but how long would that be? A year? Two? Trying to imagine it made his brain hurt, so he settled for another drag on his cigarette.
Sirius sighed and rested his arms underneath his head. "I guess you're right." As though reading James's mind, he added, "It's just hard to imagine all of this being over, isn't it?"
"A bit. But it will be, eventually. We'll come out on the other side." He considered the burning stub of his cigarette for a moment, then glanced over at Sirius. "Padfoot–"
Sirius held up a hand. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't say whatever sentimental bollocks you were about to say."
James laughed. "How do you know I was about to say some sentimental bollocks?"
"I know you. You had that sentimental Prongs look. And it's late, and we're laying on the floor, and you're drunk and had a big emotional day, so the circumstances are perfect for some sort of sentimental confession. But don't, because fuck that."
James grinned and blew out a stream of smoke. The alcohol and the rush of emotions and the thoughts of life after Hogwarts had loosened his tongue, shaken something loose in his brain so that the words tumbled around, begging to be spoken. It was sentimental bollocks, the worst sort of sentimental bollocks that made Sirius squirm and grimace and protest, but James was overcome by the need to express how much their friendship meant to him. "But," he began, but Sirius turned his head and grinned.
"Prongs. I already know."
The firewhisky had softened his expression, revealing an earnest, vulnerable quality that he usually concealed behind sarcasm or nonchalance. Sirius's words were an acknowledgement, but the openness of his smile and the affection in his eyes spoke a silent reply. In his own grudging, reluctant way, Sirius had expressed his own feelings about their friendship, and somehow, to James's overwrought, alcohol-laden brain, that made all the uncertainty about the future seem a little less frightening.
"Alright, then," he said, reaching over to stub his cigarette out against the wood floor. "As long as you know."
He faced the ceiling again, following the Snitch's meandering path through the air and listening to Lily's slow, steady breathing.
Sunday, May 28, 1978
"Who the hell convinced me to take N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration?" Peter demanded, his face creasing with panic as he looked up from his notes.
"Me, because I didn't want to be left alone with those two." Remus gestured at James and Sirius, then continued shuffling through his own notes. "But you probably should've just told me to sod off and we could have had another free period."
"I like that idea,"Mary said, wrapping a curl around her finger and grimacing. "Black, you have to promise not to make fun of me when I get a T. I don't remember how to do any of this." She frowned down at her notes. "What's the Principle of Artificianimate Quasi-Dominance? I didn't write anything – I just drew this weird frog with long ears."
Sirius peered at her notes and snorted with laughter. "That's the worst drawing I've ever seen. Good thing you're not going to be tested on your drawing ability, because you'd get a T for sure."
She jerked the parchment out of his view and scowled. "That doesn't answer my question. If you're just going to insult me, don't bother talking at all."
Sirius smirked and pointed his wand at the parchment; it slipped from Mary's fingers and zoomed into his outstretched hand.
"You're right, I'm sorry. This is the best drawing I've ever seen, actually. I'm going to keep it forever to remind me of you. Prongs will have a photo of Evans that he fawns over, and I'll have this lovely thing." He held it up for everyone to see.
Peter let out a peal of laughter, then clapped his hand over his mouth when the Hufflepuff girl sitting at the table beside them gave him a sharp look.
"Madam Pince is going to ask us to leave," Remus said, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at the librarian.
"No she's not." Lily gestured at a hysterical fifth year seated at a table on the other side of the library. Her friend was patting her on the back and trying to usher her toward the door. "But I think she's about to tell her off, poor thing."
The crying girl's friend steered her around tables full of studying students, ignoring the curious looks they attracted.
"I'm going to fail everything," the girl wailed before her friend pushed her out the door and the sound of her cries faded away.
Peter returned his gaze to his Transfiguration notes and heaved a sigh. He thought the crying girl might have the right idea. At least if he had a breakdown and had to be escorted out of the library, he wouldn't have to squint at his own indecipherable handwriting any longer.
"PAQD is the law that explains why conjuring can have such bad results if you don't know what you're doing," James said, tapping Mary's illustration. "If your intent isn't all there, the molecules can go haywire when they reform. It's how you can end up with frog bunnies or other weird fucked up hybrids. That's why you drew that, I assume."
Mary tilted her head and stared at him. "PAQD?"
"Principle of Artificianimate Quasi-Dominance is a bit of a mouthful," James said, shrugging.
"You're a bit of a mouthful," Sirius said, smirking. "Or, I dunno – is he, Evans?"
Lily rolled her eyes and closed her book with a snap. "I can't concentrate."
"Is it because you're thinking about what a mouthful Prongs is?"
"I appreciate the ego boost, Padfoot." James closed his book and began to gather his notes into a pile. "I think we need a break. We've all earned it, and productivity has definitely gone downhill."
Peter stopped rubbing at a splotch of ink on his sleeve and shoved his books and notes into his bag, glad for any sort of distraction. Just trying to pronounce the Principle of Artificianimate Quasi-Dominance had made his head hurt, never mind actually understanding the reasoning behind it.
"What are we going to do?" he asked as they all trooped out of the library and out into the corridor. They could hear faint sobs, and as they turned a corner they spotted the crying fifth year slumped on the floor while her friend patted her the shoulder.
"If you bring her to the hospital wing, Pomfrey can give her some Draught of Peace to calm her down," James said, flashing them a friendly smile.
"Or you could just stop by the Hufflepuff common room," Sirius said, shrugging. "Same effect, really, except you could both enjoy it."
"You give the best study tips, Black," Mary said, laughing and flicking a bit of hair out of her face. "'If you're stressed from studying, smoke some pot.' No, honestly, I'm not being sarcastic. Look how many Outstandings you got. You must be onto something."
Remus frowned and raised his eyebrows. "I dunno. I distinctly remember him telling me once that I'd retain information better without clothes on."
"They restrict blood flow to your brain," Sirius said. "I wonder if they'd object to us trying to sit the N.E.W.T.s naked."
"You try it and see how that goes," James said, throwing his head back and laughing. "I can just picture Minnie's face when you walk in to take your exams wearing nothing but your most charming smile."
"Oh, I don't think I could be naked in front of McGonagall," Sirius said, grimacing. "Sprout, sure. I don't think Flitwick would care. Dumbledore probably wouldn't even notice. Macyntire? Bloody hell, I'd love to moon that tosser. But somehow it doesn't feel right for Minnie to see my, er, assets."
"At least you draw the line somewhere," Remus said. "Here I was thinking you'd be fine with standing naked in front of the Minister for Magic."
They headed not for the staircase to Gryffindor Tower, but down the corridor that led to the Entrance Hall. Peter glanced at James, who was leading the way, but didn't say anything. He had learned long ago not to ask too many questions.
"Oh, I'd have no problem being naked in front of Harold Minchum." Sirius grinned and nudged Lily. "What do you think, Evans? Would the sight of me naked shock some sense into him?"
She scowled. "Doubtful. Where are we going, by the way?"
James pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and pointed to something halfway down the page. "We're going swimming in the Black Lake. Skinny dipping, if Padfoot has anything to say about it – although we do seem a bit sober to be completely naked."
"Oh, fine, underwear will be permissible, then," Sirius said, shrugging.
Peter glanced at Remus and widened his eyes in alarm.
"It'll be fine, Pete," Remus said, shrugging. "We can handle the Grindylows and whatever else is in there. It'll be good practice for our Defense practical. I'm not taking my bloody clothes off, though."
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Wear them, then, but that jumper's going to drag you down. When you're drowning, don't come crying to me, and if Seven asks what became of you, I'm going to tell her you insisted on wearing five layers of clothing into the bloody lake."
When they stepped through the double doors and out into the night, the air was balmy although the sun had set. The lake lay black and foreboding as they made their way through the dew-soaked grass. Faint music floated up from Hagrid's hut, but otherwise the grounds were still and silent.
"I can't believe we've never done this," Sirius said, shrugging out of his jacket even before they reached the banks of the lake. "Missed opportunity, if you ask me."
"I can't believe we're doing it." As they reached the shore, Mary slipped off her shoes and socks and dipped a toe in the water, then drew it back, wincing. "It's bloody cold, in case anyone was wondering."
Peter lit his wand, then held it aloft over the ominous-looking water. The thin beam of light did not penetrate the inky blackness, and he shuddered to think what was lurking beneath the surface, but he forced a smile onto his face and began to remove his shoes and socks.
Sirius finished removing his clothes, tossing them onto the ground before he seized Mary around the waist and dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the water. She hadn't yet removed her shirt, and the soaked fabric clung to her body as her hair fanned out in the water behind her.
"It's not exactly ideal swimming weather," Lily said, shivering as she removed her shirt.
"It's okay, we'll freeze together." James said, stripping off his clothes and wrapping his arms around Lily. "Come on."
Peter and Remus exchanged glances. There was a lot communicated in that one look: amusement and disbelief and exasperation, followed by grudging acceptance. Peter wondered how many of those glances they had exchanged over the years. How many times had James and Sirius come up with some ridiculous scheme — probably dangerous, always against the rules — and Peter and Remus had gone along with it because it was easier than arguing?
Remus eyed the water with distaste, then wriggled out of his trousers and removed his jumper. He left his pants and t-shirt on, and Peter did the same, then took a deep breath and waded into the water. The muddy ground squished under his toes, and the icy water numbed his feet, but he forced himself forward until he drew level with Sirius and Mary. Mary had peeled off her shirt and trousers and tossed them onto the shore, and she had her arms around Sirius as she treaded water. The water weighed down her curls, plastering them to her forehead, and a light smudge of mascara clung to the skin below her eye. He caught a glimpse of her sheer white bra below the water's surface before he jerked his gaze away, his cheeks burning,
"Good job, Moony," Sirius said, gathering Mary's soaked curls and piling them on top of her head. "You ditched the cardigan. You're really going wild tonight."
"I'm not sure I'm drunk enough for this, but it's better than studying." Remus dunked under the water, then emerged with his hair dripping. The light from the moon illuminated the silvery scars on his skin and the glints of gray in his hair.
"You want to get drunk?" Sirius gestured at the pile of clothes on the shore. "Check my pocket. I think I have the flask."
"In the library, Padfoot?" Lily paddled over to them, then wrinkled her nose as her feet touched the muddy ground. "What do you need a flask for while we're studying?"
He released Mary, then lay on his back and floated, gazing up at the sky. "Last I checked, drinking improves the library. But then again, what doesn't drinking improve?"
James waded through the water to join them, then dunked under water to do a handstand. Peter grinned as James's legs wavered, then crashed sideways, splashing Mary and Lily and eliciting squeals of protest.
"I think I saw a Grindylow down there," James said when he broke the surface and came to stand beside Lily.
"Don't joke, James," Mary said, eyes widening in panic as she scanned the water around them. "I don't like Grindylows."
"Well, I'm not sure anyone likes them." Remus made his way back to the shore and returned with his wand, which he used to illuminate the water around them. "I don't think they usually come this shallow, though."
"You should all float," Sirius urged. "It's quite relaxing. And look, you can see Orion's Belt."
Peter lay on his back and looked where Sirius was pointing. He didn't see anything that resembled Orion's Belt, but he wasn't going to be the one to say so.
"That's not Orion's Belt, you prat." Mary sent a jet of water his way. "I can't believe we actually have to take the N.E.W.T.s," she said as she floated over to join them and her foot bumped against Peter's. "And I can't believe once we finish two week's worth of exhausting tests, we're expected to go out into the world and be adults and fight a damn war."
"I'm not finding this to be relaxing," Remus complained, picking his head up to frown at Mary. "Can we not talk about exams or the war for the next hour? Because those topics both make me feel like puking, and I don't think that would improve our swimming experience."
"I'll splash anyone who brings up either subject," James promised. "But you're going to be fine, Moony. We all are. Because we're all smart and talented and well-prepared, and we have each other, and I love all of you tossers."
Peter laughed, and the movement sent water sloshing over his face. He stood up, wiping water out of his face and trying to ignore the squishy lake bottom under his feet.
"Prongs!" Sirius sent a jet of water in James's direction; a few water droplets landed on Peter's face. "What did I tell you last night?"
"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," James said, chuckling "I was pretty drunk."
"I said no sentimental bollocks. 'I love all you tossers' is the definition of sentimental bollocks."
"I don't mind your sentimental bollocks." Lily drifted through the water to float beside James. Her dark red hair fanned out around her head, stirred by the gentle motion of the water.
"Neither do I," Peter said, grinning at James. He eased himself back onto his back and stared up at the stars. The water enveloped his body, making him weightless as he bobbed up and down. A reed brushed against his leg, but he was so relaxed that it didn't startle him. Above them, he picked out a line of three bright stars, twinkling against the inky black sky. Orion's Belt, he realized. He lifted his hand to point it out, but thought better of it and let his arm slide back into the water. Mary's laughter bubbled up as more water flew through the air, but Peter kept his gaze fixed skyward as droplets landed on his face and chest.
The quiet solitude of the moment pressed in on him, even as Mary's giggles and shrieks rent the air. He thought about all the times James had thrown an arm around him, or clapped Remus on the back, or collapsed onto a sofa and rested his head on Sirius's shoulder until he was shaken off with a gruff, "Sod off." James would grin, undeterred, and look around at his friends with lazy, drunken fondness lighting up his face as he spoke the sentiments the rest of them couldn't or wouldn't say aloud. Peter was afraid to be laughed at, and Remus was afraid to make the others uncomfortable, and Sirius was afraid of that level of vulnerability, but James wasn't afraid of anything, especially not telling his friends he loved them. Peter appreciated his fearlessness, his nonchalant tone, the addition of the affectionate "tossers" to soften the gravity of the statement. Of course, he knew deep down that they all cared about him (in theory, anyway), but it was still good to hear it once in a while.
"You coming, Wormtail?"
Peter stood up and looked around, realizing that the others were all on the shore, drying off or wriggling, drenched and shivering, into their clothes. Smiling to himself, he hurried to join them, stumbling through the weeds and muck as the chill night air raised goosebumps on his skin.