A Path Where We Could Walk Together
Title: A Path Where We Could Walk Together
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters/Pairings: Marauders, Peter Pettigrew/Madam Rosmerta
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,269
Author's Note: Written for Andrea/Drea/Read, for the first SPEW fic exchange I ever participated in.
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Laughter. All he ever really heard from them was laughter. And was it not their infectious chuckling, it was sure to be their voices plotting something to give them more entertainment. He would laugh along, trying not to giggle, and trying to produce the right amount of sound at the appropriate time. Bad timing or being too loud meant raised eyebrows, or even worse: fleeting looks of pity. In the bleak hours of the morning, he sometimes wondered if they ever felt depressed, if they ever doubted themselves or carried dark thoughts. He did.
Most of the time, he was quiet. He had the ability to deliver a witty comment now and then, and when he did they would laugh with him, as opposed to at him, and it would earn him a pat on the back. But it happened too seldom. He was not a part of the speaking assembly of actors, he was just an extra, a mere spectator in the play that was their lives.
Still, extras also breathe, dream and live. They might not speak in front of the audience, but in the darkness behind velvet curtains, they whisper. And while standing in the shadow of the stars, they watch and they listen…
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Peter’s mittens were wet from shaping snow, and his hands were freezing. With the fresh snow covering the ground, it was difficult for the four friends to remember that they were supposed to be almost grown-ups, so instead of walking down to the village they had tumbled their way through a good snowball fight. The world was dark around them, in weather as well as in mood, but today they were unaffected. It was mild, meaning the whiteness would be gone by the morning, but it was there now, to brighten their afternoon.
Entering the main street, the usual argument began. Sirius, the tallest of them, wished to go one way, whereas James wanted something different and Remus was of yet another opinion. Peter was asked for his view on the matter this time, but he was careful not to take sides with anyone, even in such a banal situation. He needed all three of them, and could not risk them believing he liked either one better. Besides, it did not matter to him. He was only interested in going to one place in the snow-covered village, but he would never share the reason with his friends.
“I don’t mind,” he shrugged, shivering slightly in his threadbare cloak.
“Ah, come on, why not Honeydukes?” James repeated his option.
“Not sure we should,” Sirius replied after a look at Peter. “Wormtail, you look like you’re about to turn into an icicle. What say you about going to The Broomsticks first and defrost for a bit?”
Remus agreed, and after heaving a theatrical sigh, James came along as well. The way to the pub was easy to walk, as others had already melted a path in the snow. The sound of voices and laughter was muffled as the quartet approached the building, only to wash over them with full force when Sirius pushed the door open. The place was packed already, of students who had had the sense not to engage themselves in winter war games on the way. But Peter was not worried when pulling of his frozen mittens, he knew from experience that along with his friends, there was always a place to sit. This time was no exception, he noticed, as a group of Ravenclaws suddenly got in a hurry to leave. Smoothly, but still in a way to prove his right to the vacated chairs, James walked over and sat down. In one well-practiced movement he removed his woolly hat and drew a hand through his hair, causing it to look untamed as ever. Peter, knowing no such tricks would work on his dirty-blond mop, opted to keep his hat on. After sitting down on the last empty chair, he began to carefully browse the room. Warm air soon found its way through his clothes, and brought a smile with it to his insides. He was here.
“Peter?” Remus’ voice brought him back to their table.
“What? Sorry, what were you saying?” He mentally cursed himself, letting his mind stray in front of them was not good.
“What are you drinking?” James grinned.
“I’ll just have a Butterbeer,” Peter said, repeating the answer he always gave to that question.
Trying not to start looking through the crowds again, he watched Sirius trying to get the barmaid’s attention. He hardly had to shout, as a young witch was standing close by, waiting to take their orders. Peter recognised her; she was only a few years older than them.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
“Well, I was wondering if you had any new suggestions for us?” Sirius replied with a question.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I haven’t seen you face around here before, so I figured you were new. Maybe you know of something we would like?”
Smiling, the woman stepped closer. Peter was no longer surprised over how easily this act was played out. None of them were unfamiliar with women these days, not even himself. He had only had to voice his interest for a girl, and his friends would guide him to success. It had never led anywhere though, and none of it had been like he had imagined. Chuckling, James had accused him of being old-fashioned, believing in soul mates and true love. Ever since, Peter had been very quiet about his fancies.
After glancing at the others to make sure they were all occupied with Sirius’ show, he let his eyes wonder again. He still depended on his three classmates, but he was no longer in awe of everything they did. Since the end of their sixth year something had happened in his mind, perhaps he had matured, even if it was not noticeable in his posture or attitude. His friends had not sensed the change, and he was not about to let them do so either. He knew perfectly well what had caused this whirlwind of discoveries and realisations to spin. And as his disobedient gaze travelled towards the bar, he finally spotted the reason.
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She had seen him the moment he entered. He had looked cold when walking through the door, and she had almost rushed over to give him a warming hug. She had stopped herself, both because the pub was full of people who must not know they even knew each other, and because he would not have hugged her back. He would have kept up the act, played his role as inconspicuously as ever, and before his blank face she would have looked a fool. In such a situation he was in charge, he was the master of silence and acting innocent. The thought of it made her smile. She had gathered that Peter’s life had not been all that easy, and she knew he was generally considered to be a bit of an oaf. But people should know he was clever, they should know he had enough courage in him to approach someone like her. He was no fool, and he certainly had a more realistic approach to their relationship than she did.
She soon realised two things at the same time: that Peter and his friends would want to order soon, and that she had just missed several minutes of Cornelius Fudge’s mindless babbling. Too nervous to approach the young men’s table herself, she sent the new girl, Luella, to serve them. Turning back to Cornelius, she could barely suppress a sigh. He had been a few years above her in Hufflepuff, and although he was a friendly enough, he was much too interested in himself for her liking. She tried to nod and smile when he continued his tirade, but all the while she was keeping an eye at the happenings over at the table. It was not long before a smile started to play on her face. She had liked Sirius and James since the first time she met them, she had always thought they were quite the double act. Between the two of them they had enough charm to move anyone’s heart, so Luella did of course not have a chance. Her smile broadened. Yes, the two of them were priceless, and their other friend, Remus, was a handsome one even with his ragged look and bruises, undoubtedly the cause of some silly duelling games. It was not hard to see why she had taken so long to discover him, walking so quietly behind his taller friends. In fact, it had taken a set of foot-long, pointy ears for her to notice him, to realise that he was the real find of the four…
The last Hogsmeade afternoon of the year had been bright and sunny, excellent for business, or so she had thought. But it was clear that she still had lots to learn, because the Hogwarts students would just pop by for a quick Butterbeer, and then be gone from the pub. Not even the tables and benches outside attracted customers, instead people were spread out on whatever patches of green grass they could find in the village. Disappointed, and worried if the pub would even make it through the warmer months, she stayed inside and watched rays of sunshine play in the dusty air while wiping glasses. Lost in her own thoughts, she had almost jumped when roaring laughter reached her ears. The four of them entered and upon hearing their infectious howling, her mood had improved at once.
“Remus, that was amazing! I always knew you had it in you!” chuckled the tallest one of them, causing the brown-haired wizard to smile in a guilty fashion.
“Amazingly stupid,” snorted the one she knew as James. “Moony, how could you use that hex on a friend, no, let me repeat it - friend - without knowing how to reverse it?”
Remus seemed to have sense enough to look ashamed of himself. “Eh… I guess I got caught up in the duelling… I hope you’ll forgive me, Peter? How are you anyway?” he said and turned to the shortest one.
Almost unaware of even listening, she looked at him too. It was hard not to laugh, she had to admit it, because the young man’s ears had been replaced by body parts that seemed to belong on a goblin rather than a human.
“Forgive you? They bloody itch!” he growled, but still joining his friends when they burst into fits of laughter again.
Approaching the bar, they tried to compose themselves somewhat. She smiled towards them, trying to ignore the very noticeable ears that adorned Peter’s head.
“Afternoon, lads. What can I get you on this fine day?”
“Well, if you’ve got anything for shrinking pointy body parts, I think my friend here would be extremely grateful,” Sirius winked.
A glance in Peter’s direction showed her a bright blush. “I’m afraid I have no such drinks,” she shook her head, managing not to giggle.
“Well just go for some cold Butterbeers then,” Sirius said. “Four?” he asked and looked at the others in turn. They nodded in agreement, so she reached for the bottles.
After serving them she stepped back, pretending to wipe glasses again but really listening to every word they spoke, and watching them. She had not always been like this, like a spy, always keeping her ears open for a bit of gossip. But she had changed over the eight months she had owned the pub, now it sometimes seemed to her like she lived her life through the customers. They opened up their hearts to her, confined in her because they were for some reason convinced she had some sort of interest in their lives. In the beginning she had been a bit disturbed by it all, but soon - all too soon - she had become addicted to their tales, in need of updates on whatever might be going on outside the walls of her house. To her surprise, it was mostly men who spoke to her. She had listened to all kinds of them during her time behind the bar, most of them boring and full of themselves, or complaining, or showing off. She was sick of it, and was beginning to lose faith in the opposite sex. Could there really be a wizard among them all that she could put up with for long enough to get married?
She sighed and looked at the young men again. The shortest one was scratching his abnormally long ears now, and she smiled to herself. Upon closer inspection, there was certainly something charming about him. He seemed quiet, and respectful of his friends. A thought struck her upon watching him - perhaps all wizards were not as bad as she had come to believe? What if it was her own fault for only noticing the noisy, self-confident ones? Maybe she should be looking for someone quieter, someone not so self-assured?
“So, should we get a move on then? I’ve got a hundred places I want to visit,” James suddenly said and stood up.
“Mate, there aren’t even a hundred places in this village,” Sirius grinned while following suit.
“Coming, Peter?” Remus asked.
“I shouldn’t think so. My ears and I will wait here until you’re done,” he grumbled.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Look, I’ll be fine. Just remember to pick me up before you go back to school.”
“Of course we will,” said Sirius from over at the exit. “And don’t worry, I’m sure Pomfrey will be able to fix your…ears…”
“She had better,” he said and sent a wave of sparks after his friends as they hurried through the door, chuckling.
As soon as the bell had quietened, before the dust had settled in the air again, she approached him. He emptied his bottle and smiled weakly towards her.
“Care for another one?” she asked, not thinking of anything else to say.
“Oh… No thanks, I haven’t got any money with me.”
“Have one on the house then,” she smiled and picked up another Butterbeer. “You certainly look like you could do with one.”
Handing it to him, she felt how his fingertips brushed against hers. It was the briefest of connections, but she still thought she had glimpsed something. Watching him carrying out the simple task of opening the bottle, she noticed how gently his hands held the object, as if he didn’t take its existence for granted.
“Thank you,” he nodded.
“You’re welcome.” She looked at his transformed ears once more and felt how recognition came creeping up on her mind. “You know…I might just know the counter-curse to that…” she said and pointed at his head.
“You do? Then, would you mind using it? Or showing me? They itch something horribly, you see,” he grinned.
“Hang on, I’ll give it a try.” She reached for her wand behind the bar. Focusing, she spoke the incarnation clearly: “Korva Krympaea!” Instantly, his ears started shrinking into the most perfectly shaped ones she could ever remember seeing.
Touching them and sighing of relief from finding them back to normal, he rewarded her with a warm, grateful grin.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“There, you can go and join your friends now,” she smiled.
“Or I could stay…” he said slowly, one uncertain eyebrow raised.
“Rosmerta?”
Cornelius’ speaking her name pulled her back to reality, or at least to present time. He was putting his expensive-looking winter cloak back on, and placed the ridiculous bowler hat on his head.
“Oh, sorry Cornelius, I guess I just…” Rosmerta shrugged, offering him no real apology.
“Well, I have to be off. Lots of shopping to do, and by the looks of it, I’m not alone.” He lifted the lime-green hat, and left her standing alone behind the wooden wall that separated her from the customers.
Cornelius had been right, too. Almost all of her guests were now pulling their heavy clothes on, preparing to face the snowy streets and crowds of Christmas shoppers. Peter’s friends were just leaving, but he was still seated.
I bet he blamed it on his wet mittens, she thought and smiled to herself.
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Pretending to read the book he had brought with him, Peter patiently waited for people to leave. In the end, only one man remained, but he was fast asleep behind the Christmas tree. Hot, flaming joy broke loose in Peter’s chest when he heard her send the assistant on an errand in the village. Soon, she approached his table. He was dazzled by everything about her, from the dark eyes to her glittering shoes. They had not been able to meet nearly as often as they would have liked to after the summer, but he was still very sure of what he felt for her. Now, he wrapped his hands around hers.
“I’ve missed you,” she said with a content sigh, happy to feel his gentle touch.
“I’m so sorry, Rosie. It’s been difficult sneaking out of the castle lately. Dumbledore thinks we will be infected by ‘the holiday spirit’ and go wondering about at night, so he’s made sure more professors and prefects patrol the corridors after hours.”
She nodded without a word, simply pleased to be in his presence. It had been three weeks, three tedious weeks of longing to hear his voice. Rosie. No one else had ever called her that. Rosmerta closed her eyes as he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed each fingertip in turn.
“Listen, Rosie,” he said and caused her to look at him again. “I haven’t got much time, but I wanted to give you this.” He pulled a box from his cloak pocket and handed it to her. It was small, wrapped in black paper and carrying a yellow ribbon. Hufflepuff colours, she thought, it was so typical for him to think of the little details.
“Thank you,” she breathed and made to untie the yellow band.
“No,” he said in his light voice and held her hand back, “will you please save it for Christmas morning?”
“I will,” she assured, knowing that whatever the little box held, it would be her most treasured gift this year.
He stood up and used a quick spell to dry his mittens before pocketing them. She rose from her seat as well, suddenly feeling a little lost.
“Are you leaving already? When will you be able to come and see me again?”
“Soon, I hope. I’ve signed up to stay at school over the holidays. In any case, I’ll send you an owl tomorrow.”
She sighed, miserably this time. “I just wish we didn’t have to care, that we could be together all the time.”
Peter glanced over to the corner before he spoke, to see that the man behind the spruce was still asleep.
“Rosie, I hadn’t planned on telling you already, but… I might have found a path for us, something that could work.”
“You have?” Her eyes sparkled of excitement. “How? Where?”
“I can’t tell you yet… You’ll just have to trust me, trust that I’ll do anything to find a place where we can be together, among people who would accept us.”
She smiled. “Of course I trust you, Peter.”
As Rosmerta leaned in to kiss him good-bye, she forgot about the worried world they lived in, and the years that kept them apart did suddenly not exist to her. She knew that somehow, everything would work itself out.
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