Thicker than Water (Marauders Era)

14 April, 1981 - Stress

"Peter, honey, if you don't sit down you're going to drive me insane," Lavinia informed her friend gently without looking up. Because Peter was pacing. Again.

"Sorry," he muttered, and paused, looking over at her with a guilty expression that he seemed to have all too often these days.

Lavinia's face softened and she set down her book. "What's wrong, Peter?" she asked for probably the third time the last few hours. He had avoided answering her every time, and she didn't suppose this time would be much different, but she could tell he was stressed and she wished he would let her help. Not that she had any idea what to do for him, but still. She wished he would at least let her try.

"It's nothing," Peter insisted, his voice a bit high pitched as his feet started moving again seemingly of their own accord.

Lavinia's heart fell slightly. Of course he was still avoiding the question. But she just hummed skeptically. "Clearly," she muttered sarcastically, tapping her fingers slightly on the cover of her book. "Tell me, does 'nothing' usually make you pace this much?"

Peter stopped again and glared at her, or rather, glared at her as much as Peter ever glared at anyone, which wasn't really that much. Still, that he had made the attempt was something, though Lavinia couldn't decide whether or not that something was good or bad. It was probably good that he was at least momentarily distracted from whatever was stressing him out so much, but that he had glared at her made her think that it was something bad enough that he didn't even want to tell her. And maybe that was arrogant of her, but she wanted him to be able to tell her anything without thinking twice, had made an effort to ensure he knew that she would never judge him for his fears or his worries, that she was there, whenever he needed her.

"Seriously, Peter. Maybe I can help," she offered, not really expecting him to accept it, but hoping all the same.

And maybe the hope in her voice convinced him because he sighed and glanced around, as though checking for evesdroppers. This, Lavinia thought, was a bit ridiculous, though she didn't say anything about it. Remus and Sirius were out running errands for the Potters since the family was in hiding and popping out to do the grocery shopping would have rather defeated the purpose of all the dozens of protective enchantments around their home.

This left Lavinia as the only person in the house, something she knew Peter was well aware of. Her friend didn't tend to visit unless he was certain it was only Lavinia here. Which was a problem in and of itself, but Lavinia had resigned herself to baby steps where Peter was concerned. She wasn't going to push him. She remembered all too well what her own darker days were like and how little she had wanted to be pushed and prodded at those times. Asked, yes, offered help, of course, but not forced to accept it. Not forced to say any more than she wanted to. So she would give Peter the same kindness and courtesy she had so appreciated from him and their friends.

Now, Peter stopped looking around and glanced at her, looking almost as though he were afraid to meet her eyes, like doing so might give away too much. "I just... I don't know how much long I can... hold out," he answered, the words broken by short pauses as though he was choosing his words very very carefully.

Lavinia tipped her head to the side and frowned slightly. "Is this about the last battle?" she asked gently, making a rather educated guess about something that had been stressing them all out quite a lot lately.

The last battle had indeed been a disaster of fairly epic proportions, at least by Lavinia's estimation. Actually, she wasn't entirely sure why Dumbledore insisted on continuing to conduct raids because no matter how careful the old man was about information, it didn't seem to matter. The truth was that they needed most of the Order for anything to actually be successful, which meant the whole Order needed to know. Which meant the spy knew as well. And even if they tried to hold off telling everyone until the last possible moment, to leave the spy little time to contact the Death Eaters, doing so often resulted in a lack of any proper coordination because no one had time to prepare for the bloody thing.