42.

Peter:

Peter really had no idea what on earth he was still doing there in the hospital wing beside the bed of the freak. Obviously it would live and since he hadn't actually had anything to do with the freak's accident, there really was no reason as to why he was sticking around. Except and he hated admitting this even if it was just to himself, he missed being part of a group. He missed hanging around with James and Sirius and this was better than nothing, even if it was just out of their concern over the monster in the bed before them.

Peter strode away from the group of students clustered around Remus's bed, his absence going mostly unnoticed save from two boys. One the very boy whom Peter despised and the other a rather carefully blank faced Slytherin, his face masking the inner sense of fury which he had become so adept at hiding. Peter missed both of these, paying no attention to anything save for his destination, the windows at the other end of the Hospital Wing. He walked almost silently across the stone floor, the scuffing of his shoes across the cobblestones, only audible to those who cared to listen for such slight noises. Once Peter reached one of the high windows which were spaced evenly across that section of wall, he stared out at the school grounds without really seeing them. He stood there lost in thought, attempting to figure out and make sense of the many thoughts and feelings which were at war within him. His hands clenched into fists upon the stone windowsill, his head leaning forward to press his forehead against the cool water flecked glass of the window, thunder rumbling in the distance. For the life of him, Peter could not figure out why it had bothered him so much to see the freak lying at the bottom of those stairs. Why should it matter to him what happened to that monster, especially since he knew that he had done much worse to it the year before. Yet, for some strange and incomprehensible reason, it did bother Peter…it bothered him a lot. Peter knew what James and Sirius would say if he bothered to tell them how he was feeling, they would call him a hypo…hypa…hypoc, they would find it "funny" that he had a problem with someone else hurting the freak after what he himself had done.

Peter's shoulder's hunched as he stared unseeingly out at the rain falling upon the grounds. He knew that the freak didn't even matter that much anymore; all that mattered…all that Peter cared about was being able to have James and Sirius as friends again. They were far more important than most other things, even if he couldn't forgive them for siding with the monster instead of him. There had to be a way to be friends with them again, there had to be something that he could do, some way to win them over. His hands clenched tighter, his knuckles standing out white against the rest of his hand. Even that Slytherin…Snivellus, was better friends with James and Sirius than he was and that was simply not right.

He didn't know how much time passed, how long he stood there with his forehead pressed to the glass, before he reached a decision. He would buy his resentment, hide his schemes, and disguise his conniving so that the others would believe he had changed. Peter would even make himself be "nice" to the freak, hopefully then he would once more be accepted as one of the Marauders. He would just have to hide the person who he knew he was, and be the person that they used to think he was, the person who wouldn't hurt anyone. Scared little Peter is who he would have to be again, but this time it would be an act and only he would know that. One day the façade would fall and he would be on top, he would have his revenge on them all, he just had to get them to trust him first and that would be tricky.

When he finally turned away from the window, his hands were stuffed into his pockets, he slouched as he walked back over to join the others. He stood there for a few minutes before he was able to look at Remus without noticeable traces of disgust and loathing, then he removed a hand from his pocket and held it out to the boy who sat upon the bed. Peter hoped it wasn't apparent in his voice that his teeth were clenched a he spoke.

"I'm…sorry, Remus. I know that doesn't even begin to cover it, but I am sorry. Forgive me?"

Peter was aware of the glares of anger as well as the looks of shock upon the faces of the others, yet he was forcing himself to focus only on the boy in front of him, the boy who was looking at him in disbelief and hope.

Thank you for reading, this latest chapter. Please review, and I hope that this story will continue to be at least interesting. Thanks again and you are all awesome! I'm sorry this is taking so long, but I have been extremely busy with school and only writing when I get the chance. Thanks to all who have stuck around so far and I will try to update more frequently. I just want you to know that this story is NOT abandoned, it is just taking a while to update. So thanks again for reading.