Time to put your galleons where your mouth is

Chapter 9

A Fine Line

Peter Pettigrew was a third year Gryffindor, and he felt that this statement summed him up perfectly. He was a part of the house of lions, he was one of nineteen boys currently in their third year of schooling, and sure he wasn't the best or the brightest, but he was here. And that was what mattered to him. He had three great friends who stood up for him, who helped him with the magic he didn't quite understand. Hell, Peter wasn't sure that he even wanted to be the best wizard their age, he wasn't cut out for it.

Perhaps the best wizard their age was Sirius, with James and Remus not too far behind. But it wasn't surprising that the Black would be so good, what with his brother.

Turais Black terrified Peter.

Oh, he knew the boy was brilliant, he was nice to everyone and always had time to stop and chat with anyone. But Peter hated snakes, and the boy was a Parselmouth. It wasn't enough for him to not talk to the older boy though. It was only a minor thing that always had Peter on edge, expecting a snake up to pop up out of nowhere and start snapping at the heels of everyone nearby. Of course that never happened.

What scared Peter the most about the boy was how perfect he seemed. There had to be something wrong with Turais Black, something he was hiding. No one could really be that perfect, could they? There had to be something wrong with him, a frightening temper, questionable tendencies. Just something behind that pleasant mask he wore, hidden away under lock and key.

Peter had never shared this thought with anyone else, but there was something else to Turais Black. He'd probably never have noticed, probably would be under the same illusion as everyone else. But he'd seen the older boy, for just one moment when he'd been sneaking down to the kitchens with the rest of the Marauders. Turais had already been there -for the boy knew the castle better than perhaps anyone else in existence- but it had been the look in the boy's eyes that Peter had noticed.

It'd been dark, haunted almost.

It was not the eyes of a child, it reminded him of his muggle grandfather, who had fought in the muggle war. It was the eyes of a solider.

How had no one else noticed that look? Sure it'd only been there a moment, but Turais Black wasn't so good at hiding it that his family had failed to see it, surely not? Peter didn't know, but he knew Sirius loved his brother a hell of a lot. And Turais Black looked out for his little brothers with the protective streak of a nursing mother dragon. So he'd hold back from saying anything for now.

Unless of course James went through with his idea to prank Turais. Then he'd put all his efforts into stopping it. He did not want to think about the possible repercussions of that idea. Not at all.

Lily Evans was not a happy girl. Scowling, she stormed forwards, drawing her wand from her skirt pocket at the sight before her. James Potter was the worst kind of boy. Her father had warned her about his kind, she could compare him to little Ellis Brahman from primary school. The boy who'd had a crush on her but shown it through pulling upon her pigtails until her accidental magic had given him quite the electric shock. She just hadn't know that until two years ago.

Potter was good at getting a laugh, but some times he just took things too far, him and his stupid little friends.

Severus was all but pinned to the wall, his hands having been turned into hooves and thus rendering him unable to use a wand. Potter was stood before him grinning, but Black was stood slightly off to a side, looking somewhat nervous now.

"James, I think that's enough," the Black whispered, grey eyes scanning the crowd. They landed on Lily for a moment before continuing to rove around the place, obviously looking for a face in the crowd.