"We spent it out of town."
Peter squinted slightly. Remus was lying. He could tell.
"How 'bout you...Peter?"
Christmas? Peter blinked rapidly.
"It was fun. I got this scarf."
He nervously held up the long scarf his mother had knitted.
December
James,
Hi! Merry christmas!!! I had fun, family diner was great, my cousins were cool too. They got me a new quidditch set. Mum nitted me a scarf and dad--he helped. It's wierd, writing letters. i never really had anyone to write to before. Remus says my letter writing skills are not that good. I dont know.
I hope you have a happy christmas and that you are well. I sent a bag of chocolate frogs with this. i hope our owl, Christov will bring it.
Bye!
Peter Pettigrew
The letter was a bit smudged, but it would have to do. He didn't want to have to borrow more parchment from his sister. She would probably scold him for not having any.
James probably wouldn't care anyway.
He tore up the paper and sighed.
Nobody cared. his father thought he was worthless, his mother knitted him a scarf, yes, but she only did it for show. Angie (his sister) had gotten so many presents. He was just...him.
Besides, the rest of the family would prefer him not to exist at all.
He didn't want to exist. everyone had problems, yes, probably worse than his but....
No one understood. His parent's were downstairs right now, yelling. Angie left for her precious ministry job, which, evidently, required her to work even on the holidays. He was here, in the attic, trying to drown out the noise.
Peter felt worthless, useless, he felt...weak. Everyone else had bigger problems to deal with...yet here he was in the attic, afraid of words....afraid of his own family...afraid of....everything.
Merry Christmas.
____________________
Outside, Prima Pettigrew found a letter waiting on the doorstep. It was probably one of her Husband's "work associates", the nerve of them! She threw it in the fire, unaware of the the name "Peter Pettigrew" scrawled neatly on it.