"You are the sweetest feeling I have ever know."
In which ••• a werewolf stuck on the ground, falls for a raven, wishing for the sky.
•slow/kinda slow burn
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#1 in ocxremuslupin (6/3/23)
#3 in sweater weather (6/2/23)
#7 in oliviacooke (5...
YEAR FIVE - OCTOBER 1975 "I will look more and more like him until i'm older than he is."
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Peter Pettigrew held his many textbooks to his chest, falling in line with the steps of the students around him. He heard many snippets from every conversation that was fluttering around him like a bird. He heard two first year girls whispering about a cute boy in their Herbology class, and three third year boys talking about last night's Quidditch game between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, one Peter heard much about by a certain raven herself. On his left, he heard a seventh year group of boys talk about their plans after school, remembering he still had no plan. He was already halfway done with his studies at Hogwarts and he had yet to come up with a plan. Behind Peter, he heard the frightened whispers of girls, the rustling of newspaper following.
"Have you heard? There was another attack on a muggle family, only over in England." A hushed voice from a second year girl, Peter could hear the newspaper rattle in her shaking hands. "Four dead, three attacks so far too." Another voice joined in, a third year boy.
"There was another attack just released to the public, two dead in Ireland."
Peter felt chills go down his spine, feeling the sensation of dread fall over his shoulders. He wished for James' invisibility cloak to hide from the claws of dread. The pudgy boy felt his hands start to quiver, his knees becoming weak. His father was a muggle, he knew Rhylara's mother was a muggle too, as well as Remus. He had heard of the attacks growing in number and closer in range to Hogwarts, closer to where his family resided. He worried for his friends' parents, for his own.
There was no correlation to each attack, no reason for each person's death. There were no witnesses, nor motive against each victim. There was reason to believe it was a rogue wizard or witch, killing the helpless for the thrill or just because. The Ministry of Magic was still trying to keep the attacks underwraps, but once the news hit the reporters ears, there wasn't much the Ministry could do but underplay the news, trying to counter the fear the best they could.
Fear was a funny thing, once it settled in, there wasn't a way to scrape it from the bones. There would always be claw marks and scorch marks where it had latched on.
"Peter there you are!" The boy was too busy watching his shoelaces and listening to his heart race to see the girl reaching for him, pulling him towards an empty window where the other four Marauders waited. "We've been looking all over for you." Rhylara smiled softly at the boy, her eyes reflecting the faint glow from the sun, shining gold and auburn. Peter shook his head slightly, forging his best smile for the girl.
"I got turned around on the stairs, I'm sorry." His apology was met by a swift pat on the back by Sirius, who'd just taken a secret swig of fire whiskey. Peter could smell it on his breath, he remembered the smell from his childhood.
"No worries Peter, we aren't in a hurry, we still have a good few hours before the storm starts." James was playing a game of cards with Remus in the window, both sitting on opposite sides, backs against the old stone. Remus was chewing on a piece of chocolate, while his opponent licked at a sugar quill, his personal favorite.
