The Marauders: Year Three | #Wattys2016

Salmon Puffs

Salmon Puffs

Peter stuffed a salmon puff into his mouth, then grabbed three more and tucked them into a napkin in his robes pocket before moving along the table to pick up two palm-sized treacle tarts, a small stack of crackers with cheese on them, and a cup of punch. He looked around, balancing his treats, trying to spot Sirius or James, but he didn't see either of them anywhere in the Great Hall. He waddled off from the table, though not too far, until he found a seat against one wall and he lowered himself into the chair. He stuffed his mouth with his treats and sipped his drink, listening to the music echoing off the walls and waiting for one of the other Marauders to come find him.

Suddenly it a spell slapped the bottom of the cup, spilling it, red punch splashing all over Peter. He squeaked and looked down as the front of his shirt bloomed pink with the juice. Evan Rosier's laughter from across the room echoed over and Peter scowled his direction. Goyle high-fived Rosier and Peter hastened to get up and scurry out of the Great Hall, in case Evan decided to start something. He didn't fancy trying to defend himself against the bully and he ran into the entrance hall, looking over his shoulder. He bumped into somebody and turned around to find Severus Snape standing before him.

"Oh. I - hi - sorry," Peter stammered.

Snape glared at Peter with a particularly hateful anger. "Where's Potter?" he demanded.

"I dunno," Peter said.

"Of course you do, you always know where Potter is, you follow him around everywhere, you little spot of pondscum. Where is he?" He took out his wand and Peter's eyes widened.

"I really don't know!" Peter squealed.

Patience lost, Severus forced his way into Peter's mind, shoving past thoughts of the treats in his pocket and the image of the spilling punch. He shoved and pushed, trying to find James Potter in there, and Peter's weak little mind gave up a great myriad of secrets in simplistic images, flashes of ideas and thoughts - most of which made no sense to Severus. Pictures of rats and snacks and dogs and dark tunnels and a girl with straw colored hair in braids. Mopsus knows all echoed from Peter's head and a woman... a middle aged woman who was plump with curly sandy hair and rosy cheeks... but nothing about James Potter's current location.

The little git really didn't know.

Severus released his mind.

Peter stumbled backwards, his eyes wide. "What did you just do?" he demanded.

Severus glowered at Peter. "Nothing of any use," he sneered.

Evan Rosier and his gang came trooping out of the Great Hall at that moment, "Oi, Snape, what're you doing talking to that fat little piglet?" called Rosier with a laugh. "He hangs out with the Puffer Fish; do be careful."

Severus looked to Rosier and Peter took his moment of distraction as opportunity to run. He scrambled up the stairs, his trainer catching halfway up so that he tripped on the steps, and he hurried back to his feet, looking over his shoulder in a panic as he rushed, making sure the Slytherins weren't following him. They didn't appear to be, but he didn't slow until he'd gotten through the portrait hole in Gryffindor tower. He panted with nervous energy, leaning against the closed door and trying to catch his breath. He looked down at the stain on his shirt and frowned, walking up to the dormitory.

Peter pushed open the dormitory door, unbuttoning his shirt as he went, "The Slytherins are ruddy gits, they --" he looked up from his shirt buttons and stopped mid-sentence. Sirius was sitting on his bed, his jaw dropped, staring across the room at a scarlet red Remus, who stared back at him, a book balanced on his lap. Remus looked sort of sick and Sirius's eyes were funny. "Is... is everything alright?" Peter asked, looking between them.