Marauder crack

Nighty - Night from Rumania

Peter has a great family. There are at least fifty members and that counting only those who have direct blood ties to their parents.

His aunt Dolicia has seven sons and seven daughters, and in addition to that Peter has so many cousins ​​that, if they all took the Hogwarts express, they would fill from the first to the last wagon.

Peter also has a wide collection of joke objects that tries to keep away from the clutches of his younger nephews and cousins. Peter has, of course, a large collection of pets that has brought with him to Romania. Crickets, a turtle, four beetles, and not one, nor two, but THREE owls that he has acquired over time and. He can't wait for one to go and deliver the mail. Takes too much time. For a few years, he had a mouse but now it is too dangerous. James once locked Peter in the cage of the pet by mistake, while he insisted on the animal to regain its human form. It was so humiliating that he didn't recognize him. After so many years. Or it would have been humiliating if Peter ever stopped to think about that he could get better treatment from his mates. Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, he does not think so.

What he does think is that he has everything he could want.

A family that rambles and goes everywhere together and always has something entertaining to offer and in which he sometimes feels like he's one more of the pack, which is the same as being nothing. He has enough games to entertain himself for hours when he is alone and pets that always need his attention and mail is delivered without delay, although they usually carry many more cards than they should. He has everything he wants and everything he needs and sometimes everything seems fuzzy and short and a little strong, as if everything could collapse with just one blow.

Peter has dreams.

Intermittent nightmares have started in Romania. Images recurring. A cave with a shapeless presence in the background, a swamp of something rises, a quagmire inhabited by a misshapen monster. Something that hisses in his ear and crawls across the floor and into his head, like a worm, like a snake, like smoke, like death.

He gets up drenched in sweat and vaguely remembers that this presence says something to him, he hints at those recurring, vague, and repetitive nightmares who have suddenly assaulted him.

He usually doesn't remember what were they about, and never tells anyone about those dreams.

He doesn't dare.

Just having them already makes him feel guilty.

And he doesn't know why.