Current mood:	mournful
Entry tags:	james, peter, phyllis pettigrew, remus, sirius

007: We Drink to a Fallen Scotsman
The owl didn't come at breakfast. Later Peter thought that should have made him nervous. At the time he was just glad for something to distract him from his homework. Sirius and James were off at Quidditch practice, and Remus was doing something prefectly . Peter was sitting by himself in the Great Hall because he'd taken his books down to dinner and just hadn't left when he was done eating.

It was difficult to concentrate on Ancient Runes, though, even when he was taking notes, and he'd ended up watching a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw playing a loud match of Wizard's Chess, one table over. He had his chin propped on his hand, staring off into the distance, when a flurry of tawny feathers flashed past his eyes. A moment later an envelope hit him in the face, making him flinch. By the time he looked up, the owl was flapping silently off.

Frowning in curiosity, Peter looked down at the envelope. It was bright blue, which wasn't a colour he'd ever seen before. "Not a Howler," he muttered, and slid his finger under the flap, which was stamped with "URGENT" across it.

He stared at the letters inside, reading them twice before they made any sense at all...and then shaking his head because they still didn't make sense. It was an official, no-nonsense handwriting, signed by a woman whose name he didn't recognise. And she said--

No. No, this had to be a mistake. He stood up, leaving his things and carrying the letter as he walked out of the Great Hall. Remus. Remus would know what to do.

Unsure of where Remus might be, Peter set off along the passage. He wandered that way for nearly a quarter of an hour before he remembered he had the Map in his pocket. He pulled it out and watched James and Sirius' names whizz around the pitch for a moment, then started searching for Remus.

Remus had left dinner that evening with an apologetic smile. It was his turn to do rounds and he really didn't want to hear it from Vance if he was late. It had turned out to be an uneventful night, thankfully, one that had left him rather bored, in fact. He'd taken to occupying himself by playing a game with himself, stepping onto only every other stone in the floor and avoiding the cracks between them.

It was mostly empty in the corridor, so he looked up as he saw someone move in his peripheral vision, then grinned at Peter. "Here to keep me company?" he asked, but the smile faded almost immediately at the look on Peter's face. "What?"

Peter felt a wash of relief when he saw Remus, a tiny lessening of the tightness in his throat. He opened his mouth, but couldn't force the words out. Instead he stumbled toward his boyfriend and held out the letter, his gaze on Remus' face.

Remus really didn't like this one bit. There was something in the way Peter hadn't said anything that was unsettling and Remus took the letter from Peter straight away. He turned it over in his hand, not recognising the stationary as anything like he'd seen before, and then he read.

For a moment, Remus didn't believe it. Peter's Dad had been in a car wreck, hit by a lorry, and he was... oh, God. Peter's dad is... dead. Remus' brows drew together in a look of sympathy and he looked back at Peter. He didn't know quite what to say, so after a moment, he closed the gap between them and wrapped Peter in his arms, not really caring if anyone saw.

Peter let out a sob and clutched at Remus, squeezing his eyes shut. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, he thought frantically. He buried his face against Remus' neck and tried to collect himself. Instead he just let out another sob, and a moment later he was shuddering and crying against Remus' neck.

"Oh, Merlin, Peter..." Remus' hands were stroking Peter's hair soothingly before he even realised, and he squeezed Peter to him tightly with his other arm. He wondered if they should maybe go to the dorm, because the last thing they needed was for people to stare if they came through. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Peter hated crying, and he hated the fact that he felt embarrassed about it, because it was his Dad, he ought to be crying. He scrunched up his face and clung to Remus, trying to say something but not getting anything out. Finally he managed, "Remus--" in a voice that was barely a squeak.

"Shh, it's okay," Remus whispered, his fingers stroking Peter's back, then felt like a right git because it wasn't okay at all, was it?

He'd started to rock them back and forth gently without realising, and just then a 5th year Ravenclaw started down the hall towards then, but stopped and gawked for a moment behind Peter's back. Remus frowned at her but didn't stop what he was doing, and after a moment, finally quietly said, "Oi, bugger off or I'll dock points." It wasn't the mostprefectly thing he could have said, but he suddenly felt like Peter was his to protect, and she darted back the way she came from after that.

Peter heard Remus' tone change, but he didn't catch the words. Nonetheless he suddenly realised they were standing in the middle of a hallway. He drew in a shaky breath and held it, trying to stop himself crying. His nose was running, which meant Remus was probably putting up with snot on his neck. God, Peter was a mess. Suddenly all he could think was, He said they'd buy me a new broom. He concentrated on breathing, desperately wanting to not cry any more.

Remus concentrated on Peter again, once the girl had gone, and he turned his head to kiss Peter's temple, ignoring the sticky wetness between them. "Do you want to go somewhere?" he asked as softly as he could, then tried to think of somewhere where people wouldn't wander in on them. The dorm was out, as were most of the grounds, except... "That room? The one that just appears by the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy?"

Peter managed a shrug, but he didn't want to think about what to do. He didn't want to make a decision. He just wanted Remus to hold him and promise him things were going to be all right. Oh, God, Mum! he thought. He should be worried about her. But he couldn't think, he just couldn't think.

Remus squeezed Peter tighter for a moment, but he really did think they should move. He wished he could Apparate. Again. Head injuries and family deaths should be an exception, he thought, and then wondered why. It probably had something to do with feeling utterly useless right now. "Okay, let's go then," he whispered, and looped his arm around Peter's waist to guide him through the castle, but the trip to that room suddenly felt like it was a million miles to walk and eventually Remus just tugged Peter into and empty classroom and locked the door behind them.

He turned back to look at Peter and stroked a thumb over his cheek, brushing through a bit of wetness. "I'm so sorry. I wish I knew what to do, but I know there's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."

Peter scrubbed a sleeve across his face, then had to fight to keep from crumbling into tears again. He scrunched his face up and leaned against Remus. "Hold on to me," he whispered. His hands were shaking. He had a feeling there were things he ought to be thinking about--but he just felt as if he'd been hit by a strong freezing charm. He couldn't think.

"Okay," Remus replied immediately. He could do that. He could hold Peter all night, if that was what Peter needed. "Whatever you need." He wrapped his arms back around Peter and clung to him, wishing he could stop the way Peter was trembling, but knowing it was probably better for him to let it out. "It's going to be all right," he soothed.

For a long time Peter just held on to Remus, fingers wrapped in the fabric of his clothes, head turned so he could breathe in Remus' scent with every ragged inhalation. He didn't feel any better, but he began to calm a bit. "I...my...I don't know what to do," he managed finally, not opening his eyes. "What--help me. Please?"

Remus was quiet for a while until Peter spoke. Help? Oh God, Remus didn't really know what to do in situations like this. "Okay," he heard himself agree anyway. Should he put Peter to bed? Go get milk and biscuits? ...Or just slide down the wall in this room here and hold Peter to him until Peter was ready to leave it? "What can I do? I'll do it. Whatever you need."

Peter sighed and lifted his head to kiss Remus' cheek, hoping he wasn't too manky from all the crying. He didn't know what he wanted, but Remus was being so kind, so caring. It did help. "I...c'n we go home?" he muttered, and then added, "The dormitory."

Peter's kiss was wet and sticky, but Remus smiled at him as best he could anyway. "Yeah, we can go. Come on," Remus said, slipping his arm around Peter's waist again.

It seemed to take forever to walk to the dorm, Peter leaning on Remus a little and trying just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He knew he got strange looks from a couple people they passed, but he was aware, too, of Remus makingprefectly threats when a Slytherin cheeked them. Peter couldn't be arsed to do more than glare dully at the boy, and he was more than willing to have Remus guide him away.

The common room was almost empty, and no one there was surprised to see Marauders come in arm-and-arm; they probably just thought Peter was pissed. When they got up to the dorm, Remus propped him against the door frame and promised to be right back. Peter didn't bother looking around to see what he was doing, he just closed his eyes and leaned there.

Remus didn't much care if he was gong to hear back tomorrow about docking points from Slytherin house. All that mattered was making sure Peter was okay. He disappeared into the loo to get a flannel, running it under the cool tap and then stepped back out to Peter, who was still collapsed where he'd left him. "Hey," he said softly, brushing the cool cloth over Peter's forehead.

Peter shivered a little at the unexpected coolness against his skin, but he lifted his head and opened his eyes, focusing on Remus' face. "Remus," he whispered, trying to smile. He failed miserably. He was so tired, and still so afraid. He kept thinking about how much his father liked Quidditch and Wizarding photos. He couldn't be dead.

"Shh." Peter hadn't taken the flannel from him, so Remus wiped under his eyes and nose gently, then leaned in and gave Peter a kiss on the cheek, thankful the dorm was so quiet. He tossed the flannel back in the bathroom and then pulled Peter away from the door, walking him gingerly to Peter's bed. He glanced around the room to see no one was around... and the few who were were dozing, so he guided Peter into bed and then climbed in after him, drawing the curtains around them. He hovered on his knees for a moment, looking down at Peter, then asked, "Or... would you rather be alone?"

Fear swelled up in Peter's chest. "No, stay," he whispered, clutching at Remus' sleeve. "Please. Don't leave me alone." He couldn't stand the thought of being by himself, having nothing to think about but his dad. His breathing quickened again at the thought.

Remus nodded and then carefully settled down next to Peter, draping his arm over him. "I won't leave until you want me to," he whispered, kissing Peter's cheek again, and then his shoulder.

Remus was so good to him. Peter pushed his shoes off and over the side of the bed, then crawled under the covers. "Come on," he murmured, and watched Remus. He wanted Remus to stay here until he fell asleep. He wanted Remus to be here when he woke up. Maybe in the morning this would all have just been a bad dream.

Remus followed Peter, kicking his own shoes off and slipping under the covers with him. They should have probably changed into their pyjamas, but Remus didn't think Peter cared right now, and Remus couldn't blame him. He looked at Peter for a moment, brushed the fringe out of his eyes, then kissed his lips softly before resting his head on Peter's chest and closing his eyes.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~


Remus didn't remember falling asleep snuggled up to Peter, but he certainly remembered waking up.

"Mooooooooony!"

Remus jerked awake, nearly whacked his head on the headboard, and fumbled for a minute, trying to figure out what the soft, warm mass under half his body was. A mass which started moving under him and groaning a little and... oh. He blinked blearily at Peter and half-smiled through a haze of sleep, his mind not working very well just yet, until heard Sirius' voice.

"Oi, Prongs, Wormy's up. Hey, Wormtail have you seen Moony? He's not in his--"

The bed curtains were drawn back unceremoniously by James, who promptly froze in shock. Sirius' face mirrored the expression, and Remus shifted away from Peter to his knees in a tangle of limbs and clothes and blankets. "I'm... right here," he said lamely.

Peter had begun to smile at Remus, and then the memory came smashing back about why they'd ended up in bed together in the first place. He stared at Remus, unable to even look at the others, thinking, Oh, God, my dad!

James and Sirius were speechless. That was almost more frightening than when they were loud.

"Um, Peter..." Remus stopped. He wasn't sure if it was his place to tell the others what happened to Peter's dad, which was slowly coming back into his mind. He looked down at the expression of Peter's face and suddenly didn't care that James and Sirius were staring, because it made his heart break. He reached down and brushed at Peter's fringe, then squeezed Peter's shoulder. "Peter, Peter, um..." he explained to James and Sirius, ever so eloquently, while keeping his eyes on Peter.

"My dad," Peter whispered, taking a shaky breath and closing his eyes, then glancing up briefly at James. "My dad--dad--" He couldn't say it. He couldn't force the words past his teeth. He looked imploringly at Remus.

"Peter's dad..." Oh, he wished he had the stones to pull Peter into a hug just now. He looked away from Peter, because he didn't think he could say what happened while watching Peter's face, though he didn't look directly at James or Sirius either. "Peter's dad was in a car accident. He-- he... died..."

Peter gasped in a quick breath and then nodded, not quite managing to look at either of their friends. His chest was aching, and even being this close to Remus wasn't helping much.

Sirius blew out a gusty breath. "Bloody hell."

Remus nodded, and James quickly lowered himself to a seated position on Peter's bed, reaching out to put a hand on Peter's knee. Sirius was still just staring.

"Yeah, he... I was just... helping... keeping him company." Remus couldn't help but wonder, though, if one of his or James' parents died (he didn't think Sirius would care much if his own died), would Sirius spend the night their bed? He was glad everyone was too shocked to think of what it meant that he'd snuggled Peter most of the night.

Peter swallowed and stared at James' hand, wishing he could go back to sleep. He didn't want to face any of this. "I wonder ifDumbledore knows," he said dully.

"Probably. He knows everything," James said.

Remus was almost surprised by the softness of James' voice, and he looked back at Peter, brushing a thumb over Peter's cheek without thinking. "I suspect they'll take you out of school for the..." funeral. Remus frowned, but out of the corner of his eyes he could see the shock had worn off enough that James and Sirius had exchanged looks at the way Remus touched Peter just then. At the moment, he didn't care. He just wanted Peter to feel cared for. He hoped Peter wouldn't be too angry with him later. He wondered if he ought to shoo James and Sirius away... or if maybe they all ought to leave Peter alone. "Do you want us to... stay with you, or...? I could go get you breakfast," he suggested, "and bring it back, if you want."

Peter thought about that. His stomach turned over at the thought of breakfast, but he was hungry, too. He didn't know what to do. "I don't--don't want to--be alone," he managed finally, his voice small. James and Sirius would probably think he was just a big girl's blouse, but he didn't care. He couldn't stand the thought of being alone and having to think about it.

Sirius had apparently had enough. "Look," he said quietly. "Moony and I will go get you some breakfast. Toast and porridge or something. And Jamie'll stay with you until we get back. We won't be gone long."

Peter shrugged. He didn't want Remus to leave at all, but he supposed if he protested it might look strange.

Remus looked up at Sirius. He didn't want to leave Peter, and part of him was a little nervous to go with Sirius alone anywhere just now, after having caught the look he'd shared with James. Peter didn't protest, though, so Remus slid out of the bed carefully and walked around to where Sirius was. "We'll be back, okay?" He hesitated, wishing Peter would say something, but he finally turned around and walked out of the dorm

James patted Peter's knee and pulled away, but he did climb up on the end of the bed and lean against a post. He didn't say anything, though, so Peter didn't feel obliged to say anything back.

Sirius was a different matter. He draped an arm over Remus' shoulders and held on tight. "When did he find out? This morning? Last night? Couldn't you have told us?"

Uh oh. Sirius was holding him a little more firmly than necessary. That didn't bode well. Remus tried to act like he didn't notice though, as Sirius guided him out of the dorm and through the common room. "Yeah, last night. He-- came and found me, and I-- he didn't want me to leave, so..."

"So...you didn't let us know? Instead you slept with him. Remus, mate..." Sirius trailed off, looking angry and confused, and pulled away so he could run a hand through his hair. "Oh, fuck, Moony, his dad's really dead? I mean--Merlin."

"Yeah, I saw the letter," Remus said, feeling summarily exposed. He couldn't read Sirius' expression, but he didn't really like it very much, so his gaze was hesitant. "And... I didn't sleep with him, I just... stayed with him," he finished lamely.

Sirius sighed heavily. "God. What do we do now? Why didn't he tell all of us?" He looked at Remus again, and there might have been a little jealousy in his expression before he frowned and looked away again.

Remus frowned, feeling a little guilty at that look. He, of course, knew why Peter had come to him first. He didn't, however, think Peter would want him saying something without discussing it with him first. Not to mention, Peter didn't really need any extra stress right now. "He just found me first, I guess. He wasn't really mentally all there, you know. I don't think he really wanted to have to deal with it."

"Right. Right." Sirius ran both hands through his hair. "Then we'll just--get him breakfast and then...what?" He looked imploringly at Remus. "You're the one who's good at being responsible and--and thoughtful,Moony. What do we do?"

Remus sighed. "I dunno. I-- we just... be there for him."



~ * ~ * ~ * ~



It took a few days, but they managed to get strings pulled so that Remus could go to Glasgow with Peter for his dad's funeral. Dumbledore was exceedingly good about it, which wasn't much of a surprise, though Remus did think there was a certain sparkle in the old man's eyes that was a little too knowing. Remus tried to smile and ignore the niggling suspicion that Dumbledore knew they were gay and snogging each other senseless on every occasion they could. He also tried his best to ignore the way James and Sirius were giving him looks that didn't sit very well with him. Looks that made him feel like a traitor, somehow, for being closer to Peter than they were, by all outward appearances.

It was a quiet, somber train ride back to platform 9 3/4. Remus was thankful the train wasn't crowded with other students, and he and Peter found a private compartment where he was able to hold Peter and stoke his hair, pressing kisses to his forehead like silent promises that it would all be okay. It didn't last as long as Remus would have liked, and their private moment was over when the train stopped and they got out to find Peter's mum waiting for them, looking older and more tired than Remus had ever seen her before.

They exchanged weary greetings, then the car ride back to Peter's house was near silent.

Peter knew he had been just going through the motions for the entire day between getting the letter and taking the train to London and then back to Glasgow. It was the first time he'd ever wished there were a train directly from Hogsmeade Station to Glasgow. When he and Remus were alone, he managed to push away the bizarre fear that kept threatening to overwhelm him, but once they saw his mother, everything came flooding back.

All the way back to the house, he couldn't think of a single word to say. Once they got home, he and Remus cleaned the house up a bit while his mother rested. They had a quiet night, and then the next day they went to St. Columbia's for the funeral.

Peter had always enjoyed the ritual of church, the way it almost seemed like magic, too. But today it was his father, and he couldn't feel any appreciation at all. He just felt numb as he repeated the Hail Mary and wished desperately that he could hold on to Remus for support.

Remus couldn't help but feel out of place. He didn't know any of the prayers or any of the routine, but he tried to focus more on just being there for Peter than anything else. He wished he could touch Peter, hold his hand or put his hand on Peter's knee every time he followed the others and sat. All he could really do, however, was continue to dart little looks at Peter from time to time, hoping Peter knew how much he cared and how much he didn't want to see Peter hurting.

Partway through the service, Peter finally just couldn't make himself stand up when everyone else did. He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, trying to hold the tears in. He finally gave up and just focused on trying to be quiet about it.

Remus started to stand up when everyone else did, then faltered when Peter didn't join. He sat quickly, and didn't hesitate to put his hand on Peter's back, rubbing soothingly, watching Peter closely. After a moment, he scooted closer on the pew to comfort Peter more, draping his arm over Peter's shoulders. "'S'okay," he leaned in and whispered, hoping Peter would know he meant it was okay to cry, and forced himself not to stroke Peter's hair; blokes could put their arm around each other, especially at times like this, but that would have been too much.

Shaking, Peter leaned against Remus and forced himself not to wrap his arms around Remus and cling to him. He couldn't imagine life without his dad, having no one to exclaim over the vagaries of Wizarding life, no one to teach him things he didn't really want to know, like how to tie flies, no one to sit up with late on Saturday nights until the Beeb went off air. God, how could he do this?

Remus just held Peter against him, wishing he could do more than just stroking his shoulder and letting him cry, but there was really nothing to do. He chanced a glance up at Mrs. Pettigrew and bit his lip, wondering if he should be doing what he was doing, or if Peter and his mum should be comforting each other instead, but he didn't look long enough for any indication. He spent the rest of the funeral whispering little condolences to Peter as the ceremony went on, and finally they were at the end of it and Peter's dad was being carried out.

Mrs. Pettigrew cleared her throat and Remus looked up, mouth open in confusion for a moment until he realised what she was trying to get across. Remus ducked his head to look at Peter, not noticing the single stroke of his hand down the back of Peter's head to get his attention, and met his puffy eyes. His lip curled barely into what he hoped was a sympathetic and supportive expression, and whispered, "I think... you're supposed to..." His eyes darted to the coffin then back to Peter.

Peter had forced himself to calm down finally, because he was feeling a little sick, in addition to guilty for indulging in his tears. He drew in a long breath when Remus got his attention, then stood slowly. He gripped Remus' hand for a minute, squeezing to thank him, then pulled away, drawing on all the Gryffindor courage he could mustre. They followed the coffin down the church aisle and out to the waiting hearse.

The next few hours blurred for Peter as they buried his father and then toasted his memory at a local pub. He didn't really register the odd looks he and Remus got from one or two of the women who were friends with his mother. He drank whiskey when it was put in front of him, and nodded blankly at relatives and family friends he didn't remember well, and just kept praying he would last until they could go and Remus could curl up with him in bed.

Remus was glad of the drink; it was hard to see Peter like this. He did his best to stay with Peter as the night went on, hoping that just being by his side would help. It seemed like ages before they were back at Peter's mum and dad's-- no, just Peter's mum's house now. Remus was ushered to a guest bedroom and he got in his pyjamas and settled under the covers after saying goodnight to Peter and his mum.

He laid there for a long while, though, not sleeping, but just staring up at the ceiling. The house was silent, and after a while just laying there, he sneaked out of his guest room and made his way toward Peter's room, glad the floors weren't creaky and Peter's door was quiet. He slipped inside and hovered over Peter's bed for a moment until he was sure Peter was awake. "Hey," he whispered, sitting and stroking his hand across Peter's cheek. "You did really well today. I'm proud of you."

Peter sighed and reached out to touch Remus' leg, appreciating the gentle touches on his face. "I blubbed my way through the funeral," he muttered. "God, Remus, I--I can't even believe he's not just going to come home." He shifted over, hoping Remus would climb in next to him.

"That's okay," Remus said, then took the move as an invitation and slid into the bed next to Peter, kissing his forehead gently and wrapping his arms around him like he wished he could have all day. "I know. I wish I could make it all go away for you."

"At least you're here," Peter whispered. "I don't think I could do this without you. You've been really great." He snuggled against Remus, burying his face against Remus' neck.

Remus smiled sadly, running his fingers through Peter's hair. "You're stronger than you think," he whispered. "But I'm glad I could help."