peterchildofiris

[peterchildofiris]

The last thing Peter expected to see today was muggles on the stage. This event was organised by the children of Dionysus, both of whom were Death Eaters. How long until these muggles were made an example of in front of their audience? How long until singing turned to screaming as they were thrown into the air upside-down so the blood rushed to their heads, faces turning blue? A crowd like this presented the perfect opportunity for an attack. Would Peter be expected to don his mask? He hadn’t brought it today, but he could improvise. The gaiety of the event was utterly lost on Peter. Muggles didn’t belong here, so why had they been invited to perform? 

It couldn’t possibly be for their music. Peter turned his back on the stage, taking a swig from his mug of beer. Coldplay were overrated. “Bring back the Weird Sisters!” he called out to no one, raising his mug to the sky. He’d been nursing this particular drink since he arrived about an hour ago. Peter never drank with Death Eaters, no matter how much he might want to after listening to the shit they had to say, and here in this carnival of fun Death Eaters were everywhere. 

He focused on the only familiar face he could see. “You. Come toss a clown with me,” he said, pointing a finger at them across the crowd. “And that...” Peter’s cheeks blazed red, and he threw his head back, cringing. “That was not supposed to come out like that.” He might not be able to escape the melody--why did A Sky Full of Stars have to be so catchy?--but he could at least escape the sight of the band and all these worshippers jumping up and down to the beat. “You in?” he shouted as the volume rose, attempting to look provocative then ruining it by laughing. 

[peterchildofiris]

tonight, like some other nights, i will get drunk on every single thing i wish i had the courage to speak out loud.

Kai Masa (via wnq-writers)

[peterchildofiris]

Draco Malfoy: Is it better to be feared or to be loved?

“Is there anything stronger than love?” he said, repeating words he had heard countless times, from Dumbledore, the Marauders, Lily, the media. Love was supposed to be the strongest force, but it didn’t explain why Peter spent at least two evenings a week with Death Eaters. Maybe he didn’t love the Marauders enough, but if that was the case he didn’t want to feel the pain of loving them properly. 

In Peter’s experience, fear was the more powerful motivator. But sometimes one person’s love was another person’s fear. The world wasn’t binary. It was too messy to be divided by love and fear, good and evil. Peter knew what he wanted. Sort of. It just felt impossible.

“Loved, obviously,” he clarified, arching his fingers into a misshapen heart and holding it to the sky. Maybe this was simply how love felt sometimes. Not every story of love had a happy ending.

[peterchildofiris]

@peterchildofiris

[peterchildofiris]

👫

Peter is careful not to get too close to Alice. Not only because she’s an auror, but she worries more than is normal, in Peter’s opinion. Something to do with her father, Peter thinks. Or maybe it’s PTSD. He could hardly blame her if it were. This war had been cruel to them all, but Alice more than most. What Peter doesn’t want, however, is for her to ever turn her worries on him. More specifically, he doesn’t want Alice worrying if he is a threat or a weak link. To the Order, he’s both. If the Order falls, he wants to outlive it. He won’t die with it. And then there’s Alice, the Auror. Her profession makes her dangerous.

After the attack in which Alice was tortured, Peter cleaned her home. Even with magic as an instrument, torture is messy. The job needed to be done and Peter is a professional cleaner, the only professional cleaner in the Order. It had only been a few months since visitors started appearing outside Peter’s flat. The torture of the Longbottoms was the first major attack since he’d cracked. Peter cleaned the whole house twice, then a third time in the muggle fashion, as if he could scrub his soul clean in the process.

Peter doesn’t particularly like children, but he likes Neville more than he likes Harry. Not that he’s foolish enough to admit it to anyone, lest the information get back to James. The child responds to Peter’s illusions better than Harry, which makes it far easier for Peter to be around him. Peter makes the light dance around the room, colours filling every corner. However, Peter is shy in front of Alice. He’s not the kind of person who dotes on babies and toddlers he doesn’t know. But when a child stares at him, he will entertain them, if only to get their eyes off himself. There’s something eerie about children who stare with wide eyes, as if they can see into your soul.

One of the only memories Peter has of Alice from his time at Hogwarts took place in the library. Peter was alone, Gryffindors having been paired with Slytherins for that particular afternoon, so he took his Greek History homework to the library. He read about Juno and Flora, Zeus and Aphrodite… and Iris. On this particular day, it was too much to read his mother’s name in the book, a goddess of such immense power, the messenger of the gods, who hadn’t sent him a letter in months. Behind a tall stack of books, he dropped his head to the table, bereft. He hadn’t seen Alice nearby–or had, but hadn’t realised she would notice him and actually talk to him about what was upsetting him. Peter will always remember that as Alice’s defining quality; someone who pauses to acknowledge people who are hurting, even those she doesn’t know personally.

[peterchildofiris]

PETER PETTIGREW

         He smelled of strawberries and depression.

[peterchildofiris]

👫

When Regulus was sorted into Ravenclaw, Peter’s house, Peter promised Sirius he would keep an eye on him and steer him away from them. Peter didn’t need to ask who they were. He agreed, but he didn’t like Regulus much. The kid was rude, every word coming out like an insult, remarking on his blood status, his face always mocking and ridiculing. When Peter was with the Marauders, he felt like a bigger, better version of himself. Then he retired to Ravenclaw house, where he shrank. He didn’t need some little punk reminding him he was a disgrace. Peter failed Sirius with this one, and every time Regulus did something Sirius didn’t approve of, that caused Sirius extra concern or kept him awake with worry, Peter was wracked with guilt. He hated Regulus for making him feel that way.

And yet, when Peter first joined the Death Eaters, he thought he might find an ally in Regulus. Being friends with Sirius for so long, he foolishly felt as if he and Regulus might have a connection. It wasn’t like they were strangers. Peter knew plenty about Regulus and his home life, what with all the little pieces of information that had slipped out of Sirius through the years. He’d shared a common room with Regulus for seven years. But Peter was wrong. He didn’t have all the pieces of that jigsaw, his impression of Regulus incomplete. He didn’t know Regulus. If anything, his connection to Sirius made the chance of any friendship between them impossible, so Peter refused to talk about the Marauders during any time he spent with Death Eaters. Not only because mentioning them would put them in danger or felt perverse. He wanted to build something that was his own. And if he and Regulus were to become friends or something resembling it, it would not be because of Sirius Black.

Of course, that sense of familiarity might not have had anything to do with Sirius. It could have been the dreams Peter was having. Rarely does Peter remember the details of his dreams. As the creator, he takes the vividness, the vibrancy of his dreams for granted. They’ve been more exhilarating and more fraught since the war, as if everything is heightened–scary things scarier, pleasant things more precious. If Peter’s anxiety is worse than usual, he dreams up dark worlds. However, unlike in the waking world, Peter has gained control of his dreams in recent years, enabling him to find a way through–to the garden, the ocean, countless other worlds he’s dreamed up. It’s new for Peter to have so much control over his dreams, and it’s a welcome reprieve from the world he wakes up to.

Peter has often wondered if Regulus has the power to put him to sleep. When he’s wide awake at night with the memory of whatever horror he witnessed hours previously. He hasn’t had the courage to ask. In the hierarchy of Death Eaters, Peter is at the very bottom, scrambling for scraps like his animagus form, a rat among regal snakes. That’s how they look at him, the Death Eaters. He doesn’t expect Regulus to be an exception. So he ends up at Sirius’ door instead, begging for a drink. It does the job, but hurts more come morning when he rises from a dream soaked in alcohol and shame.

[peterchildofiris]

Severus Snape: Are you a trustworthy person?

The name Peter is derived from the Greek “Πέτρος”, from “πέτρα” meaning “stone”. There was a time Peter could be trusted to be a constant support. He would listen when people needed to talk. And if they needed to do the opposite, needed a break from their own voice, Peter would encourage the kind of mischief or prank that guarantee fun. Peter specialises in illusions. At Hogwarts, it was the perfect distraction. Now, those illusions aid him in betrayal. The war has changed Peter. He can be trusted to complete a task for the Order, but he can’t be trusted to keep his actions secret from the opposition. In an attack, he can be trusted to fight alongside his firends; to keep them alive in that moment. But he can also be trusted to cower under the pressure of Bellatrix Lestrange and the deathly glare of the Dark Lord. Peter is a coward, if coward means intent on staying alive no matter the cost. He can be trusted to break; to squeal. The answer to the question depends on who’s asking, and for what.

[peterchildofiris]

Sirius Black, Voldemort, Professor Sprout

SIRIUS BLACK: Have you ever been accused of doing something you didn’t do?

If Peter is accused of acts he had nothing to do with, it’s normally for something mundane, like eating the last croissant someone was saving, or passing wind in a crowded space. Peter is far too observant to do either of those things. He’s already betraying his friends enough–eating their food seems a step too far. By people outside his friendship group, Peter is usually overlooked, meaning he’s rarely accused of anything major. Not Peter, who does what he’s told, no questions asked. There must be something of quality about him if Sirius, James and Remus stuck with him this long. However, Peter senses this is changing. Fabian looks at him a little too long, and not because he likes what he sees, Peter is sure of it. People are starting to watch him as he leaves after meetings. Their tone and tempo changes when he enters a room. It’s only a matter of time before he’s met with an accusation head on. When it does, will it matter if he did it or not? He’s guilty of other things, terrible things, in either circumstance.

VOLDEMORT: If you were to create a Horcrux(s), what would it be and why?

There’s no point going to all the effort to make a horcrux only to have it locked in some vault hundreds of feet beneath the ground. Peter would choose an object well suited to possession, so his soul could make an impact on the world even in the event of his supposed death. That’s what horcruxes are for, aren’t they? To delay death; the ultimate loophole. A piece of jewellery would do the task; a necklace or diadem or a statement ring. Something expensive–that way his soul is more likely to end up around the neck of someone influential, with the money to lead an exciting life which Peter could experience by proxy. No one boring. No one like himself.

PROFESSOR SPROUT: What is your favourite class that is offered at Hogwarts?

Potions is a bit like cooking. Measure your ingredients, follow precise instructions, and you will produce wonderful results. Sometimes those results can be extraordinarily beautiful. Like the beautification potion, swirling with a rainbow of colour, or the simple sleeping draught, which results in a deep, rich purple. Peter’s favourite ingredient to work with is fairy wings, though he admits they are far more beautiful when still attached to the fairies to whom they belong. He enjoys pretty things, especially those which result from nature, such as flowers and magical creatures. It’s a quality he inherited from his mother, the flighty goddess of rainbows. The prettier the ingredients, the more likely Peter wouldn’t finish the task by the end of the lesson, too busy appreciating the ingredients, loathed to drop them into the cauldron.

[peterchildofiris]

ecchymosisrp :

FACECLAIM: Kim Jong-In. AGE: 24. GENDER: Non-binary, specifically agender. BLOOD: Muggleborn. FORMER HOUSE: Ravenclaw. AFFILIATION: Death Eaters. CHILD OF: Iris. QUOTE: “ There is blood in all the things you say. ”

Never in his life had Peter Pettigrew dreamed that his worst nightmares would become his reality. He blames it on his parents - blames them for never showing him enough love to bolster his confidence. He blames the Marauders - James and Sirius, running around the school as though they owned it, with smarts and girls trailing after them. Even Remus was adored by the likes of Lily Evans, someone who had always treated him nicely, but with what he interpreted as pity in her eyes. He had always felt like the outcast, even though he had been accepted into the most elusive group in the school - the group that everyone wanted to be in. He didn’t know how it had all happened. How he had joined the Order, or how he had been coerced into becoming a double agent. He didn’t know how he had even been put into Ravenclaw, with his intelligence failing him every time it really mattered. Filled with conflicting emotion and no confidence to make his own decisions, he goes where he’s told and does what he can to stay on the outskirts, a sheep trying desperately to lose himself from the shepherds. He doesn’t know how much longer he can play both sides, nor how long his cover will remain intact. He hates the betrayal, knows that he puts everyone he has even a smidge of care for in danger, but he’s in over his head and he doesn’t know how to stop it.

NARCISSA MALFOY. He sees in Narcissa pieces of himself. Her consistent silence at meetings and refusal to voice anything except for what her husband has already said leads him to believe that she could be just as entrapped as he is, though he is far too terrified of being wrong to voice his thoughts to her.

SEVERUS SNAPE. He watches Snape carefully, observing, wondering just how the man ended up fighting against the woman he supposedly loved. It isn’t much different from Peter’s life, though the permanent sneer Snape wears when looking at him solidifies that the Death Eater wants nothing to do with him.

AMITY MULCIBER. Something about her draws him in. Being in the same house, he’s grown used to her presence, and she’s the only one that he speaks to at the meetings. He’s determined to prove his worth to her, though he’s unsure how to with the likes of Lucius and Rodolphus in the room.

[peterchildofiris]

Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

[peterchildofiris]

ask meme 🌹 ✨

☀️ lace mornings: what’s your favorite breakfast food?

🌸 spring window shopping: what’s one thing you desire above all else?

🍓 picnics in july: what would be your ideal date?

🍒 cherry pie: describe the lover of your dreams!

🌟starstruck fireflies: do you believe that we’re alone in the universe?

🗺 roadmap: what’s your life philosophy/motto?

💕sweetheart: what act of love could someone show to right now that would mean the world to you?

💧teardrop: are you okay right now?

🌉 city lights: what would your ideal living space look like?

🌦light in the darkness: what’s something that’s happened to you recently that gave you hope?

🔮 granted wishes: you have one chance to have any possible wish granted, what do you wish for?

💝 self-appreciation: what’s one thing you love about yourself?

💓 love transmission: what’s one thing you love about the person(s) closet to you?

🍏 picking fruit: what do hope to achieve from your life?

🎨 self-portrait: how do you hope others describe you?

💖 conversation hearts: what’s the key to your heart?

🎼 love notes: what music do you think describes who you are as a person?

🦋 stomach butterflies: how would you show your s/o your love?

🌌 galaxy sculpture: create and describe your ideal world!

🌹rose colored glasses: what’s your #aesthetic?

🧛🏻‍♀️ vampire gf: what monster/cryptid do you think would be the best lover? explain why!

🔥 aries season: what really grinds your gears?

🌑 dark side of the moon: would you rather have answers to all the questions you have in life even if the answers were scary, or would you prefer to live in blissful ignorance?

🔪 screamer: plan your own horror movie death!

🌊 exploration: would you rather search the depths of the ocean or the void of space?

[peterchildofiris]

I'm in class and bored to death. Ask me things.

Harry Potter: Tell us about a scar on your body

Hermione Granger: What is your favorite book, how many times have you read it, and why do you love it?

Ron Weasley: Something you're afraid of?

Luna Lovegood: One thing that makes you different from everyone else.

Fred Weasley: Can you do any magic tricks? What is the best one you can do? If you can't do any, what's the best one you've seen?

George Weasley: What is the best prank you've ever played on someone?

Neville Longbottom: Tell us an embarrassing story.

Narcissa Malfoy: Do you have a good relationship with your family? Who are you closest to?

Voldemort: If you were to create a Horcrux(s), what would it be and why?

Bellatrix Lestrange: Have you ever loved someone who could never love you back?

Ginny Weasley: Have you ever been in love with an unexpected person?

Hedwig: If you went to Hogwarts, what kind of pet would you bring? (ex: cat, owl, rat, frog)

Draco Malfoy: Is it better to be feared or to be loved?

Rubeus Hagrid: What is your favorite mystical creature?

Dolores Umbridge: Make a list of rules that your family (or whoever you choose) would have to follow if you made the rules.

Lucius Malfoy: What is your most prized possession?

Molly Weasley: What is the proudest moment of your life?

Dobby: Who are you most loyal to?

Sirius Black: Have you ever been accused of doing something you didn't do?

Argus Filch: What's the worst job you've ever had?

Dudley Dursley: How many presents do you usually receive on your birthday?

Peter Pettigrew: Are you a leader or a follower?

Cedric Diggory: Have you ever had a near death experience?

Albus Dumbledore: What is the greatest obstacle you have ever overcome in your life?

Minerva McGonagall: What is your favorite spell?

Severus Snape: Are you a trustworthy person?

Remus Lupin: If you transform into any one animal or creature, which one would it be?

Uncle Vernon: What is your favorite day of the week?

Mad Eye Moody: Who is the bravest person you know?

Arthur Weasley: What do you think is the best "muggle" invention?

Professor Sprout: What is your favourite class that is offered at Hogwarts?

Nymphadora Tonks: If you could change one thing about your appearance what would it be?

Moaning Myrtle: What is something that always makes you cry?

James Potter: Would you risk your life to save someone you truly love?

Lily Potter: What color eyes do you have?

Professor Trelawney: Have you ever dreamt something was going to happen and then it happened?

Mr. Ollivander: What would your wand look like?

Lavender Brown: Who is the last person who texted and have you ever had a crush on them?

Cho Chang: If you were on the Quidditch team, what position would you play?

Aunt Petunia: What is your favorite flower?

[peterchildofiris]

Biography

Name: Peter Pettigrew

Birthday: February 24th, 1994

Gender/Pronouns: Nonbinary. More specifically, agender. Peter uses a mix of he/him and they/them pronouns.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Occupation: Cleaner. Were the magical community of Britain not at war, he might have set his sights a little higher (emphasis on the might). If Peter had a penny for all the times he’d told someone his profession then heard the words “but you’re not a squib”, he wouldn’t have to beg so many free pints off Sirius. There’s something about the word that deters people--perhaps because it’s easier and faster for those with magic to clean than it is for muggles. Doesn’t mean the job is easy. The messes are proportionately more complicated, in Peter’s experience. Owning house elves just isn’t as popular as it used to be, and many wix aren’t accustomed to cleaning up their own messes. Only ignorant people believe cleaning is a form of unskilled work. Take it from Peter, no one wants to sit on a toilet after a botched cleaning charm. Does he like his work? No, but if he clocks enough hours it pays the rent, and it leaves him enough time to make himself useful to both warring parties. He cleans at a variety of locations, including a weekend shift at an art college in central London, which Peter never misses, using the opportunity to fill his pockets with supplies. With a flakey goddess for a mother and a dad devoted to his work, now remarried with two young step-daughters, Peter never asks for help. If he needs something--if he stumbles upon a rare shade of paint and believes it will improve his life--he takes it. He has bigger mistakes to feel guilty about.

Powers: Peter possesses the power of photokinesis, meaning he can manipulate light to his will. He doesn’t rely on James and his cloak for invisibility; by bending light away from himself, he becomes invisible to the naked eye. He is also able to create illusions, making things appear where they are not. He doesn’t advertise his abilities--not like Sirius. He’s less occupied with helping others than helping himself, meaning the less people who know his true power, the better. There are advantages to being underestimated, and standing beside the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black, almost everyone estimates Peter.  

Past:

Peter had a gift and it was not to be stifled. He was the child of Iris, goddess of the rainbow, after all. Lesser men would be put off by such an association to femininity but not Peter’s father. Peter’s talents were nurtured, his fondness for art enthusiastically supported. Memories with his father are often set against the background of the V&A, the Saatchi Gallery, the Scottish National Gallery, and Royal Botanic Gardens. It was an interest they shared, his father being an architect. The homes he designed were modern, with suggestions of grandeur--nothing garish, nothing cheap--but most of all comfortable. Ironic, considering how little time the man spent in his own home compared to the office.

Growing up, while his father was at work, Peter spent his days playing assistant to his grandmother, whom he addressed using the Korean halmoni. Cooking was always Peter’s favourite, learning fruits and vegetables by their colours, how the pigment bled once the flesh was cut, and how the different colours swirled together on the chopping board, logging this information in his head for future illusions. As the child of Iris, it was thought unwise for Peter to attend a public school, thus he was homeschooled by a private tutor. His grandmother tried to teach Peter Korean, but he didn’t like how the language set him apart from the people around him, the sneers of “speak english”. He resisted her lessons. Then, shortly after his ninth birthday, she died.

Home became an empty apartment, the steady whir and ping of the microwave, and an extensive library of DVDs. This was before Netflix, before Peter discovered piracy. He devoured anything science fiction, favouring fantasy over realism. The further the narrative from his own experiences, the better. When the world felt small, he lost himself in infinite space through films such as Star Wars, Thor, Prometheus, and 2001: A Space Odyssey. If Peter is a filmophile, it’s only because circumstances required it. With his father working constantly, his mother on the other side of a rainbow, free-spirited and free from the burden of parenting, Peter was alone and bored.

At eleven, Peter was contemplating attending public school for the first time. Now that he was older, he could control his powers well enough to attend lessons with ordinary preteens. But he was afraid. And contemptuous. He wanted to be with people of his kind. What were the odds he’d find any children of gods at some piss-poor high school in the outskirts of London? Then a letter arrived inviting him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Peter’s powers had masked his other magical abilities. It took Professor McGonagall a total of four attempts to explain to Peter that it wasn’t his mother that had given him this magic; that sometimes it passed to children of muggles for no reason at all. It was a mediocre answer to a question he would be ducking and diving for years to follow: why do you have magic?

Peter already had one foot out the door by the time September 1st drew near. There was nothing he wanted more than to leave home and start something new, embarking into the great unknown. He was sorted into Ravenclaw, and no one was more surprised than Peter when he learned the house was typically known for the intelligence and wisdom of its members. But the hat had recognised Peter’s creativity, and his individuality, having experienced a solitary childhood (though this was a quality Peter would later shed.) Lessons began, and Peter began to fear he’d be friendless for all seven years at the school. Then he fell into a trio of Gryffindors, Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin.

Their friendship was instant for Peter, though calling people your friends and actually being friends are two different things, and the latter took somewhat longer. Peter came to see himself as the rock of the group, a role many credited to James. The thing about rocks is no one really pays attention to them or realises they’re there. They’re part of the scenery, and in their friendship group, so was Peter. For all his illusions, the colours and light he could conjure up, Peter was overlooked. Was it racism? If he was in the muggle world, he’d say probably, but racism worked differently in the world of magic. His blood then. Being muggleborn, his ignorance about the wizarding world made him look like a fool time and time again. Or maybe there was something about Peter himself, his personality--always saying the wrong things, not being athletic or clever or funny enough--that repelled people’s attention.

It shouldn’t have bothered Peter--and it didn’t, not until the Marauders left Hogwarts and people stopped treating him like one of the group, as if they expected him to drop off and slip away, out of their orbit. No one outside the Marauders asked what Peter planned to do after Hogwarts--it could hardly be as spectacular as James or Sirius’ plans, after all. When he joined the Order, people didn’t remark on his courage or self-sacrifice as they did with the others. In their eyes, Peter wasn’t being brave; he was just following along like he always did.

Peter wasn’t the wix he wanted to be, and he didn’t know how to be that person. It’s easier to change your friends than to change yourself. There’s no hiding from old friends. They know too much about who you used to be. Peter has found this to be useful, blinding the Marauders to who he has become. One death eater at a time, Peter has worked to redefine himself. No longer a cowering little thing always trailing after James, Sirius, and Remus, not that that was ever true; it isn’t following if the friendship is mutual. Perhaps it makes him a coward, concealing his betrayal with a false smile, lies, and illusions. Better a coward than dead--that’s the only smart choice. What use are you to anyone if you’re nothing but a rotting corpse?

His motives? Curiosity. Boredom. To prove that he could. To prove he could be clever too, infiltrate the Death Eaters and be their undoing. He tells himself it was all for a good cause. He had an in; he would use it, then betray the Death Eaters to his real friends in the Order. Only now he’s gone too far. He never wants James, Sirius and Remus to know what he’s done. They’d never want anything to do with him ever again. Strategy was never his strength. Illusions, deception: those were his strengths. But it was a mistake thinking he could ever outsmart the Death Eaters. The person he deceived most of all was himself. Now he’s in too deep. There are people he cares about on both sides. Peter is split in two, fractured. He is the wix who plays with light, but he can hardly see it for all the darkness in his life.

Present: 

If it wasn’t for his mother, Iris, Peter never would have stepped one foot into Death Eater meetings, unless it was for his public humiliation followed by a swift execution. There’s still time for that, of course, but so far having a godly parent has spared him, opening doors to the darker side of magical Britain. Peter’s mother might be a lesser goddess, but she’s a goddess all the same. Not human, but more, better, and by extension, so is Peter. Not everyone agrees, meaning Peter must watch his tongue should he desire to keep it, but for the most part being a child of a god makes up for the fact he hasn’t a single wix in his family line.

But Iris has appeared in Peter’s life even less than his father. It feels odd putting so much emphasis on his relation to a woman he barely knows, and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Another person who doesn’t see him. The years have made Peter a follower, but can anyone blame him? His own mother doesn’t want to spend time with him. Such an injury leaves its mark on a person. Peter gravitates toward people, the good and the deplorable, among them and yet always apart. He knows what it’s like to walk alone. He’s done it before. Left in silence, it’s hard to keep stuff out, all his fears and anxieties and regrets. So he seeks noise, anything to drown out the silence and give Peter a break from himself. But if Peter is a sheep, he’s a sheep with teeth. A follower that marches to the beat of his own quiet drum.

Parentage aside, Peter is useful. Disarm him of his wand and he can still hurt you, conjuring an illusion of the face of a lost loved one, or forcing his victims to watch as their limbs appear to be ripped from their bodies. It’s far tidier than actually doing the deed, and since the pain isn’t physical, it keeps their victims alert, shaken just the right amount that they talk. Peter doesn’t play the role of torturer often, only when other Death Eaters wish to test him. And when it’s done, it’s difficult for Peter to return to the life he shares with the Marauders and the Order. They all talk about courage and morals as if death could somehow be made meaningful if they hurl themselves at it with their cause in their hearts. But only alive can you change the world. There’s no action in death. It takes you out of the equation, no longer a player in the games of life and war. It’s what Peter fears most--not belonging, and not being included; having no impact on the world or his friends whatsoever--and he’ll do anything to avoid it coming to pass.

[peterchildofiris]

[peterchildofiris]

The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.

Mark Twain (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[peterchildofiris]

lizcb :

if I was a flower I’d be a rose somebody stepped on a few times