V. Invincible
Why was it that Peter always got the most boring jobs? He wasn't completely useless. There was a bigger risk being out in the open, he supposed that was something. Wouldn't it be impressive if he didn't get caught? Then, just maybe, his friends would let him do something exciting for a change. He only had thirty-two inkwells; it was very probable for him not to get caught if he did it right. Most of his colleagues were back in the dormitory by now anyway. All he had to worry about was the Slytherins, so did he really have to use the inkwells sparingly?
Pulling himself into a standing position, he looked around the Entrance Hall for someplace he could hide while chucking inkwells at people. The suits of armour didn't offer enough coverage; no matter how he positioned himself, his legs were much too visible. The broom closet offered the perfect cover, but the door hindered his movements, and he wouldn't be able to throw things very well. If he hid in either the dungeons or the Hufflepuff corridor, he'd be seen and it would give everything away. The classrooms' corridor was too far away for his aim. Wishing he had James's Invisibility Cloak, he slumped back down onto his step and sprawled out, looking up at the ceiling. Looking particularly at the chandelier - the chandelier in which Peeves often hung to throw things at them. Peter sprung to his feet making himself slightly dizzy. Wondering how mad James would get once he found out, he pointed his wand in the direction of Gryffindor Tower and said, "Accio James's broom!" concentrating hard on the broomstick James so lovingly kept wrapped up under his bed lest someone try to steal it from the Quidditch changing rooms.
Moments later, the broom zoomed through the air and stopped waist level in front of Peter. He could see his shadowy reflection in the well-polished handle. He could feel it vibrating knowing it was time for take off. This was James's Quidditch broom and one of his most prized possessions. Still, he let them borrow it a few times. Sirius even took it once without permission and all he got was a "Mate, that's my broom!" It's not like he took the Cloak - that he was possessive about.
He took hold of the handle. Feeling it sway slightly under his grip made him suddenly remember his fear of heights. He didn't have time for second thoughts. There was a sudden rush of footsteps emitting from the Great Hall. He swung his leg over, gingerly eased the broom handle up, remembering how quickly this broom responded to touch and flew over to the door of the Great Hall just as it burst open.
A great flood of students quickly filled the hall as Peter stumbled for the box he stored in the pocket of his robes. He fumbled trying to get the box open and several inkwells dropped to the floor causing several students to shout in shock, jump out of the way, or look up at him probably expecting to see Peeves.
"Peter Pettigrew!" McGonagall called out in surprise. She had no doubt come to see what her students had shouted about and was now staring up at Peter with her mouth agape and eyebrows frowned half hidden behind her square spectacles. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Slytherin students heading toward the dungeons. He knew that Eilidh and Sirius were still down there so instead of responding to his professor, he jerked the broom's handle causing himself to shoot forward a bit more aggressively than he wanted but was able to stop. He grabbed a fistful of inkwells and dropped them at the feet of the Slytherins. They scattered and looked indignantly up at him. He merely laughed, his height giving him a sense of invincibility, and threw more - watching as the glass broke at their feet splattering ink onto the hem of their robes. They ran farther from each other toward the front door, others up the stone steps, the rest back toward the Great Hall in the safety of McGonagall's presence. All of them had their wands pointed at him. Still feeling invincible with an undeserved amount of confidence he grinned and dived forward, spinning so he'd dodge their spells in a way he'd seen Quidditch players do to avoid a bludger. However, Peter wasn't half as talented on a broom as those Quidditch players. He stumbled and lost his balance halfway through the first spin and fell, dropping his box of inkwells. He reached upward, frantically grasping for the falling broom handle. Finally, he was able to grab hold of it just as the box landed with a shatter. He clutched himself to the broom, holding on for dear life. He tried to swing back on but found he didn't have the strength. The students on the ground laughed as Professor McGonagall strode furiously toward him, avoiding the huge pool of ink.
"Mr Pettigrew!" McGonagall said severely, her nostrils flared and her lips so thin they almost disappeared.
His insides squirmed. He knew she wanted him to come down but he could not move and he certainly didn't want to drop.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall?" Peter grunted as he tried to keep his hold on the handle despite his sweaty hands and inexperienced muscles working against him.
"Get down here," McGonagall ordered in a voice of measured calm with one severe finger pointed to the very welcoming floor. Peter could not be more inclined to do as he was told had he been Imperiused. It was the distance between his hanging feet and the floor that caused his fingers to tighten their hold on the broom's handle of their own accord. It was the magic in the broomstick that held it into place seemingly hundreds of feet in the air that forced him to hang.
"I can't, Professor," he said meekly, staring determinedly at the ceiling so he could slow his now sporadic breath. Where had that invincible feeling gone? He ignored the giggles from the growing group of Slytherins below him and focused on glueing his hands to the broomstick and blinking back the pricks in his eyes. He heard McGonagall sigh heavily in exasperation, a sound that seemed to reverberate through the room louder than the students' laughter.
"Try to edge forward, toward the end of the broom handle," McGonagall advised, her voice now calm, patient, and much kinder than he had ever heard it. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. Feeling a bit foolish, he relaxed his grip on the broomstick, just enough to allow his hands to edge forward. The broom tipped at the shift in weight and began to descend. It was slow but the sudden movement frightened him and he fought against it.
"It's alright Peter. I won't let you fall," McGonagall vowed. He looked down at her, her face kind and no longer stern, her wand ready to catch him should he fall. He felt a rush of affection for his professor and he lightly tugged the broom handle downward letting the broom do the work. He landed on the balls of his feet. McGonagall lifted the broom from his hands letting him settle onto his feet the rest of the way.
"Where are Potter and Black?" asked Professor McGonagall returning to her usual professionally brisk manner. Peter shrugged, indicating that he didn't really know hoping that she would assume they weren't involved.
"Back in our dormitory," Peter said, his throat tight and tears brimming thinking of Sirius trapped in the Slytherin house while the Slytherins were now slowly making their way back to their dorms. He had failed his friends in possibly the worst way. He cursed himself for being bitter with them at the start of this. They had trusted him to keep them safe, to keep their adversaries at bay and he had failed.
McGonagall arched one severe eyebrow and looked him over with such scrutiny, he was beginning to wonder if she had known about everything all along.
"Did they put you up to this?" She questioned, determinedly keeping eye contact. He looked back into her eyes wondering if he dared lie to her. With a dry mouth and a heavy tongue, he urged himself to speak.
"No, ma'am," he said, as his voice cracked and eyes burned with the tears that threatened to spill. McGonagall straightened her stance so that she was no longer eye level with him. Her lips returned to the thin line, her brow frowned, her square spectacles now slipping down the bridge of her nose as she looked down at him. Peter shrunk and blinked allowing the hot tears to fall silently down his cheeks.
Before McGonagall could speak however a puddle of ink seemed to explode splattering her green robes black. Her eyes shut and nostrils flared as every inch of her tensed. On the opposite side of the previous splatter, Peter saw a puddle of ink beginning to rise. He flinched and stepped back a fraction of an inch, knowing he could do nothing to stop it. The floating ink shot out suddenly and hit his professor, successfully covering her top half in black ink. Her eyes flashed open and her cheeks flushed.
"Stop it," McGonagall ordered firmly.
"I-" Peter began trying to explain that it wasn't him, that he had no idea what was happening but he didn't have a chance. A third puddle exploded, this time behind Professor McGonagall. She turned around whipping out her wand. She waved her wand in a sharp motion around the room and vanished the remaining ink and shards of broken glass.
In one swift motion, Peter felt the rush of air from a swooshing cloak, a heavy calloused hand clasp over his mouth, and James Potter's breath on his face shushing his startled cry into silence.
"Mr Pettigrew?" McGonagall called out firmly after she turned back around and no doubt found that he had disappeared. James guided him backwards, toward the stone steps, barely missing the tips of McGonagall's outstretched fingers feeling the air where Peter once stood. The bannister of the staircase prodded his back and startled him back to his senses.
"Sirius is still in the Slytherin's dungeon," he whispered so low it was a wonder James was able to hear him.
"No, he's not. Go." James urged him forward, up the steps. Relief washed over him. He had not completely failed his friends. The only thing he had to worry about was himself. How the hell was he supposed to get out of detention after that?
***GrangerPotterWeaselyMalfoy: Oh, thank Merlin! I'm so glad you liked it and thank you for telling me that you did - you feed the muse!
J a friend, Imma read it right now... after I post this. ***
***Ok, I don't mean to sound like a conceited asshole but I feel like this is my best Peter chapter so far. I actually like this one and I usually hate my Peter chapters (but I post them anyway because I'm an idiot.)
Enough bragging!
I need your opinions on something. I've been thinking about posting more chapters from the girls' P.O.V.s (cause they're fun and they do things that the marauders aren't involved in) Not just Eilidh and Lily but Marlene, Mary, and Josie too. So would you be into that? or nah? Ooooh, maybe I should make a poll! I've never done that before... Would you guys answer if I made a poll? I guess I should try it.
How are my American readers? Its been crazy. I hope you guys are doing okay.
All rights reserved to the Queen (who is totally Rita Skeeter in disguise, don't tell me she's not!)
Thanks for reading.
Until next time,
XO******