The Shrieking Shack || The Marauders (Book 1)

PETER

Peter Pettigrew's schooling career wasn't going as smoothly as he had imagined, and that was saying something. For starters, before coming to Hogwarts he had never, even in his wildest dreams, considered so much as the slimmest possibility that he could actually perform well in any of his classes. After spending eleven years of his awfully sad existence believing that he was a squib, finding out he had just enough magic to get him into Hogwarts was good enough. But still, he had thought he'd be a normal below average student. As far as expectations go, his were pretty low.

And yet he was left disappointed, for Peter Pettigrew was much-much below average. It didn't matter how hard he worked or how much he tried- he just never seemed to get anything right. He was barely passing any of his subjects, he had in just one month of schooling served detention with every teacher that taught him and he also had begged each of those teachers for more homework to earn some extra credits and then failed to submit most of them. Forget being an average wizard with a desk job at the Ministry, Peter was on his way to be a big fat loser.

It had almost been a month since he had started attending Hogwarts and he was pretty much hating it. All the teachers seemed to look at him with disappointment in their eyes which only reminded him of his father's disapproving face. And it always seemed that every student at Hogwarts was teasing him for his abysmal grades and laughing at him for being a great big failure.

He knew it was only a matter of time before his friends also stopped hanging out with him. Honestly, he never could figure out why they allowed him near them in the first place- probably for the laughs. Peter was such a terrible company to have after all. He wasn't funny, talented, charming or rich. He couldn't even hold a decent conversation without sweating profusely and strutting on each syllable he dared to utter and god knew he wasn't good looking either. There really wasn't any reason for anyone to want to be his friend, except to maybe laugh at him and his nonsensical manners when he wasn't around.

Peter was walking up to the Gryffindor common room one sleepy October night after spending a long detention with McGonagall, whihc he had spent writing the precise wordings of the transfiguration formula a hundred times and then learning how to exactly turn a mouse into a snuffbox without it having tiny paws or whiskers. It had taken him hours and hours of hard work until he had finally managed to turn his mouse into a tiny brown box which didn't scuttle around the desk. Professor McGonagall had been somewhat satisfied and Peter had been allowed to leave.

He was tired to his bones when he crawled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room and was moving towards the stairs which led to his dormitory when he yelped in surprise breaking the tiny teacup that someone had left atop a spindly table near him.

The fire in the hearth had reduced down to dying cinders which caste a faint red glow across the room. Peter was tired and his vision wasn't very clear, especially in the current lighting, but he could've sworn he saw a giant owl right across the room from him. It had huge eyes and was almost as tall as him, hiding in the shadow of a plushy armchair.

Peter didn't know what to do as the creature slowly edged towards him. He could run up to the dormitory and wake up his friends, but he knew the beast would flee before they believed him. So he did the only thing he could think of- he took out his wand and slowly approached the creature.

"Tubby is so sorry to startle master," said the owl in a raspy little voice sounding unnervingly like a three year old with a sore throat. "Tubby was only trying to clean up."

As it walked over, Peter realized it was not an owl. It was a wrinkled little humanoid creature, with huge protruding violet eyes, two large bat shaped ears and a giant belly wearing a tiny dirty tablecloth embroidered with Hogwarts crest.

"You're a house-elf," said Peter matter-of-factly, all fear and nervousness forgotten, even though Tubby was larger than most house-elves.

The house-elf nodded frantically. "Yes sir, and Tubby was just here to clean up after."

"Wait what? There are house-elves here? At Hogwarts?" Peter asked, feeling thoroughly bamboozled by the idea.

The elf nodded again. "We lives in the kitchens," it explained.

"There's a kitchen?!" For some reason, Peter had never even considered Hogwarts having a kitchen. He always thought the food was magicked out of nothing. "How many are you- er- guys?"

"A hundred and fifty sir," the elf croaked proudly.

"A hundred and fifty?!" Peter seemed quite scandalized. "Then why haven't I seen any of you around."

"We is not supposed to be noticed by our Masters. We is not supposed to be seen." A shudder ran through the elf at this point, it ran towards the fire place screaming and shoved its hands right into the hot coals.

"What are you doing?" Peter hissed at the elf, tying hard and failing to clamp its mouth shut. "Stop screaming- you'll wake everyone up!"

At once the house-elf quietened down, though its hands were still completely submerged in the red coals and its face had turned entirely scarlet.

"What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?" Peter asked, absolutely freaked out by the elf's now charred hands.

Tubby extended its arms tenderly in front of its face and blew at them in a weak attempt to soothe down the pain. "Master need not worry," it said looking up at Peter. "Tubby will clean up here then go back into the kitchens and punish himself sufficiently."

"Punish yourself? What- why would you do that?" Peter asked intrigued as the elf moved towards the shards of the cup he had broken earlier.

"Tubby should not be seen by his Masters. A good elf does his work in secret. Master should not have to look at Tubby. Tubby is a bad elf." Another shudder ran down Tubby's tiny body and it appeared as though it took Tubby its entire willpower and some, to stop itself from impaling its body with all the teacup shards it was carrying.

"Tubby is sorry to disturb Master," the elf said. "Tubby will leave now and pull out his nails in the kitchens."

"No-wait!" Peter said before the elf could apparate away.

"Does Master need anything?"

"Yes Tubby, I do in fact need something." A tiny grin spread across Peter's face. Finally he had an opportunity to give his friends a reason to be around him, finally there was something Peter could say he had done all on his own. "Show me the way to the kitchens."

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A/N: Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you thought about this chapter in the comments. I welcome criticism and/or suggestions. :)
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