In years to come, Peter Pevensie would never admit how much of a fool he made out of himself the day he stepped through the door to Ollivander's shop. Bold, anxious, and unbearably excited, the normally well-mannered boy nearly ran in, sending stacks of wands all over the floor. Face beet-red he watched the wandmaker appear from behind one of the aisles, and had already convinced himself he'd be kicked out of the store and would have to face the humiliation of showing up to Hogwarts wandless. Would they even let him in without a wand? Probably not, and then he, the eldest, would be the only wizard in the family to have never actually learned magic.
The eleven-year-old boy was surprised when Ollivander didn't seem the least bit preturbed, and quickly realised why as he was handed wands to try out. Just holding one caused destruction. Peter waited patiently as the wandmaker pulled out another box, the sixth one, and held out its contents.
"Blackthorn, 12 1/2", Dragon Heartstring, Flexible."
Peter took it hesitantly, the last one he tested had nearly taken his eye out, and felt a strange sensation. The wood quickly grew warm; the feeling spread up his arm and into his chest.
Ollivander nodded sagely. "Yes, I believe that one will do nicely."
...
Peter felt more than a twinge of pain leaving his family at Platform 9 3/4. The days leading up to it there had been nothing else he would talk about. Hogwarts was his destiny. He already had a list of everthing he was going to do, become captain of the quidditch team, prefect, head boy, and ultimately become an auror, just like his father. He personally hoped he'd be sorted into his father's house too, Gryffindor.
His father had lighltly implied the same, before his mother gently swatted him and said it would be honoroble to be sorted into any of the houses, she herself had been a Ravenclaw. Edmund had gone strangely quiet during those conversations, and only last night, when Peter had gone to use the loo, he found his brother wide awake at one in the morning, staring out the window. He asked what was wrong, and Ed at first refused to answer, but as he disappeared back into his room, he shrugged mumbling, "I just wish you weren't going, that's all."
Peter looked out of the train window once more, watching his family disappear into the crowd. It would only be two years that Ed would have to miss his older brother, and there'd be summer breaks and all, and then he'd be coming to Hogwarts too.
Peter bet they'd even be in the same house.
...
Peter felt the Sorting Hat touch his head, and then the weight fully rest, the wide brim tipping to obscure some of his left eye's vision. He squirmed his right foot impatiently, and he heard a low hum enter his mind.
Well now, Peter Pevensie. Definitely eager, and quite ambitious. May not be bad in Slytherin. Intelligent as well, though, no, no I don't think Ravenclaw. Now Hufflepuff would be suitable, hard-working, fairly selfless, although there's a lot of pride and bravery, Gryffindor might do, and that's where you want to be, isn't it? Hmmm, not a particularly easy placement, but I think, yes, I'll put you in…
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouts the hat. A burst of applause sounds from the Gryffindor table, and Peter can't help but grin from ear to ear as he seats himself among them.