The Marauders: Year Six Part 2 #Wattys2017

Real Friends

Maryrose Jenkins had pale lavender hair, short and pixie-like, when she approached the sofa where Wendy Brighton sat, reading a book in the Hufflepuff common room. Wendy's black hair was curly and chin-length, and her face a pinkish and round. She had freckles and a smattering of acne on her chin and the edges of her cheeks that no spell or potion could seem to rid for her. She was studying, using her wand to highlight certain lines and biting her tongue in concentration. Maryrose leaned over the back of the sofa and tapped Wendy on the shoulder, making her look up.

"Hello Maryrose," Wendy said cheerfully, and she lay her wand on the book as a marker and smiled up to give Maryrose her full attention.

"Hullo Wendy," Maryrose said.

"Would you like to study with me?" Wendy offered, waving to the empty half of sofa beside her. She held up her book, enticing, "Herbology."

"No, thank you," Maryrose answered, "I just came over to tell you that Peter Pettigrew is looking for you. He's in the corridor."

Wendy sat up, "He is? At this hour?" She glanced at the clock. "Something must be the matter... Oh but Filch will be after him!" And she magicked a marker to leave in the book, rolling up off the sofa rather clumsily, nearly tripping over the excess material in her pyjama slacks and hugging her jumper closer 'round her.

"You know that lot pays no heed to rules," laughed Maryrose, "Him or the other Marauders."

Wendy nodded, "True enough. Hey could you bring my book to the dormitory when you go? I'd better go check on Peter."

"Of course," Maryrose smiled and waved her wand to bring the book to her, hugging it to her chest. She stopped Wendy a moment before she could dash off and tucked stray hair behind her ear. "There you are."

Wendy smiled, "Thanks Maryrose!" and hurried for the door to the common room.

Indeed, Peter was in the corridor and he looked quite distraught, pacing and wringing his fat little hands as he walked back and forth, waiting. Wendy stumbled into the hall and when he spotted her, grateful tears filled his eyes and he hurried over to her, tossing his arms about her and pulling her into a hug.

Wendy hugged him back tightly, their round faces touching and his nose tucked into her curls. "Oh Peter," she said, feeling his sadness as he clung onto her, "What's the matter? What is it?"

"My friends think I'm stupid," Peter choked the words out, shaking a bit with them, "They think I'm an idiot and - and I'm afraid that they're right."

Wendy petted his head gently, "No, no, Peter, you aren't an idiot, you aren't. You're very brilliant in many ways, and I think you're terribly smart. Maybe not about the same things as they are, but we all have our strengths and weaknesses, don't we?"

Peter's face was soaked with tears. "I just - want - to - to be good enough - for - for -" but he couldn't finish the sentence.

"You are good enough," Wendy said, "More than, even. You are one of my favorite people on the whole Earth, Pete."

He snuffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "Yeah?" he asked, "Am I?"

Wendy smiled and nodded. "You are!"

Peter smiled too. "You really reckon that I'm not an idiot?"

"I really do! Do you think my favorite person would be an idiot? Come now." Wendy kissed his cheek softly, her palm on his slanted chest. "I think they just don't appreciate you for how bloody special you are - and they ought to! You are special, Peter!"

Peter smiled and pulled her back into a hug. "You're special, too, Wendy."

She snuggled against him, "Thanks, Peter." She curled her fingers into his jumper and breathed in his smell - something like butter and warm bread, and the soap the elves washed their things with.