Who: Peter Pettigrew & Garrick Ollivander Where: Their house! What: Peter finally moves in When:Backdated to Tuesday after the group meeting note: I made assumptions about the outcome of the meeting - feel free to contact me about it if you think I've taken liberties
Peter did his best not to hurry from Edwyn's office to his new 'home', though the temptation was certainly to run as if his life depended on it. Remus and James might have agreed (somewhat begrudgingly in James' case, it had to be said) not to kill him on sight as long as he stayed out of the way and didn't cause trouble, but he was starting to become aware that there were a lot more people out there who would rather he conveniently fall off something high or catch a stray curse to the face.
He didn't remember much about Ollivander. The day he'd gone to get his school things, he'd been so overwhelmed by the experience that he barely remembered any of it except that his mother had held his hand so tightly it had been completely numb. They left the house so rarely in those days, he'd been trying to look at too many things at once - including all the other boys and girls his own age buying robes and wands. For all he'd grown up as a wizard, he was almost as confused by the experience as any Muggleborn witch or wizard on their first visit to Diagon Alley. He did remember the feeling of using his wand for the first time. The sparks that had come out of it had been bright yellow, and his mother had patted him on the shoulder in a rare sign of affection.
Still, Evan was right, it could be interesting. And maybe once he was actually a part of a village, his head might stop spinning for long enough for him to get a feel for what was happening.
His directions led him to number twenty-seven. He wondered if he ought to let himself in - it was his house as well, after all - but decided in the end that it might be both safer and more polite if he knocked, so he rapped lightly on the front door with his knuckles and shifted his small bag on his shoulder. All that was in there was his writing book thing, and his old clothes from home. What he wore now, Edwyn had managed to find from somewhere, and they hung a little loose and lot long on his short frame.