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	2010.06.22  22.23 THE PLAYER NAME: Jack AGE: 24 AIM: Jack Ichijouji E-MAIL: Jack.Ichijouji@gmail.com TIMEZONE: Eastern THE CHARACTER NAME: Peter Pettigrew SERIES/FANDOM: Harry Potter SPECIES: Human wizard ABILITIES: Like all wizards, Peter is capable of casting spells through use of a magic wand. However, since he doesn't have a wand, it's more or less a moot point. He is also an unregistered Animagus, a wizard who is capable of shapeshifting into an animal (in his case, a rat). He does not need a wand to do this, nor to Apparate. WEAKNESSES: Peter is afraid. Terrified. Usually of things, but not always. He's a pushover most of the time, and will usually defer to his friends. If James and Sirius suggested that the sky was simultaneously on fire and made of ice cream, he'd go outside with a big bowl and sunglasses. It also takes a lot to get him to stand up for himself; like a rat, he's panicky and frightened when attacked right up to the point that he's cornered. It doesn't happen a lot. DEVIATION FROM CANON: In second year, Peter Pettigrew tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team against his friend and idol James Potter. Peter won. From there he's grown slightly more confident, slightly more brave, and slightly more talented than he would otherwise have been. CANON PUNCTURING PREFERENCE: No thank you. OBJECT FROM HOME: Silver Arrow broomstick HISTORY: Peter Pettigrew had always been small and scared. Not scared of anything in particular. Many things scared him. Dogs. Exceptionally large kneazles. Fireworks. Dolphins. The last one confused even him, but it always seemed like they were planning something. It came as quite a shock to Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew when their only son was Sorted into Gryffindor. It came as an even bigger surprise to him. As he slid into a place at the Gryffindor table next to Black, Sirius (whom the Hat had announced to be in, "Sly--no... no, Gryffindor!") and Lupin, Remus (who looked sickly and tired and looked very much like he didn't belong among the brash and bold youths around him) Peter had a new fear: being thrown into the lions' den. Peter tried not to inconvenience the other boys around him, doing his best to seem small and unobtrusive and not touch anyone. That changed as Potter, James ("GRYFFINDOR!" as soon as the hat touched tousled hair) came up to the table. "Here, budge over, mate." James inserted himself between Peter and Sirius. Peter didn't realize that he'd just born witness to the birth of the truest friends in Wizarding history. Mostly he was waiting for the Sorting to finish so he could eat and go upstairs and spent the rest of the following seven years hiding from everyone in his House. As it happened, he wouldn't have that as an option. Once they got upstairs, James and Sirius insisted on getting to know him and the other boy, Remus. Remus was polite and articulate, which was all that stood out about him. Nothing much stood out about Peter, but he tried. All he could think to mention was England's chances at the World Cup ("not bloody likely") and how he was planning to support India, who looked like they had a strong team. This sparked a debate that they would have every time World Cup season rolled around. Though at first, Quidditch was the only thing he had in common with the other boys, he took to following them around for want of anything better to do. He wasn't good at making friends, and James and Sirius were. Eventually they came to accept him almost on the same level as they were, and he aided them in their efforts to get Remus to open up a bit. It wasn't that he was cold, as such, as he was distant. Like he was afraid of them. The thought of anyone being afraid of Peter was pretty laughable, though. James finally deduced what the problem was: Remus was a werewolf. James and Sirius were kind, but treated him a bit differently at first. Peter accidentally defused the whole situation: "You're not going to bite us, are you?" "No!" "Then who cares?" And that was the start of their real friendship. Peter followed James' and Sirius' example in most things, so it probably wasn't surprising when Peter tried out for Chaser in second year after James announced his intention to do so. What was surprising is that he actually got the position instead of James; James was a better player, but Peter worked better on the team. This was the first time Peter actually felt good at anything, and with James' help, he improved to the point where he felt like he deserved to be on the team. The boost of confidence didn't change Peter so much as adjust him. James and Sirius had always looked down on Peter as a bit of a hanger-on; he wasn't a friend so much as a frequent companion. His new role on the Quidditch team had them respecting him a bit more: he wasn't just a peer, he was an equal. At the very least, they were much better friends. Over the years, they would continue to grow closer, even as Peter was vastly outdone academically. He was, however, a good prankster, being able to scheme with the best of them. This would in turn influence his Quidditch career, as he found that he was good at making plays. He suggested a few to the Captain in third year; by fourth year, she was relying on him to adjust the playbook. In fifth year, three things happened to the Marauders (as he and his friends had come to call themselves) that changed their lives. First, Remus became a Prefect, drastically cutting down on their pranking. Secondly, they all became Animagi to keep Remus company during his time of the month. Third, and most shocking, Peter received a small badge with a "C" on it along with his class schedule. It may have said something about his confidence level that he thought nothing of Sirius and James being able to tutor him in changing his species at will but would never have suspected he was worthy of being the leader of a bunch of school children throwing a ball through a hoop. Though Peter was good at making plays, Slytherin consistently fielded a better team. To his frequent exasperation. Sixth year was the closest they came to victory: Ravenclaw won the Cup, but Slytherin came in third behind Gryffindor, which had Gryffindor throwing an even louder victory party than Ravenclaw. Peter was preparing to enter seventh year when he arrived. It's probably for the best. Peter is still frequently frightened and a bit of a coward, but he's less of one. In short, in this world, when Peter is eventually cornered by Voldemort's agents and made to either serve him or die, he will die. WRITING SAMPLE: The announcement was made the day after the start of term in Peter's second year. A tall, muscular girl bellowed something that Peter couldn't quite hear in the Common Room, then gestured to a sign on the bulletin board. James glanced over, returned to his discussion with Sirius, then looked back and jumped up. He ran over to the sign and gazed reverently at it. "Quidditch." "D'you know, I've tried to get him to pay this much attention to me, he never does. Breaks my heart." Sirius was the first to get up and see what James was on about; he was practically snogging the sign. The others followed. "There's an opening for a Chaser," said James. "A Chaser?" gasped Peter. His friends didn't notice his reaction. "Beater, too, but who cares? I'm a Chaser. I chase. I will chase. I will chase for Gryffindor!" He said this as if there were an open spot for Jesus and he was first in line. "Yeah. Yeah, you probably will," said Peter. Try-outs were a week later. It was typical September weather, with the kind of wind that athletes called "bracing" and sensible people called "bloody fucking cold." James showed up two hours early and spent most of the intervening time flying around the pitch on his brand new Cleansweep, a gift from his parents for making it to second year. Peter watched from his window until try-outs were almost time to begin, at which point he came downstairs himself. Other students were showing up as well, along with more than a few spectators from other Houses. Then Peter walked up to the pitch, his mum's old Silver Arrow over his shoulder. "Come to watch me win?" James exclaimed, hanging upside down from his broom just to show off. "I... I was thinking about trying out for Chaser." James actually fell off his broom at that news. It floated to the ground beside him. "Seriously?" "I was thinkin'." Peter's voice was barely audible, but James was used to listening hard. "Well... good for you, mate." He got back up and put out his hand. "Good luck, then. May the best man win." Peter smiled nervously and took the handshake. "You probably will." The Captain of the Quidditch Team came over then, a fifth year Beater who Peter recognized as Mary Codswollop. She took a look at the handsome, confident James and then at small, fat little Peter, who was half hiding behind his broom, and said, "You know that first years aren't supposed to have their own brooms, right?" "Erm... I'm in second year," he said quietly. "He is," James added. "I share a room with him. Snores, he does. What's that Muggle thing with the wheels called? Motorbicycle? Sounds like one of those." A few people around them laughed. "You laugh, you don't live with it. It's terrifying." Peter knew he was being made fun of, but he appreciated James taking some of the tension away from the situation. Mary had them fly around the pitch a few times just so she could get an idea of how they moved. A few students were dropped immediately; to his mild surprise, Peter wasn't one of them. Of course, flying next to James was intimidating as all hell; James seemed to move his broomstick by thought alone sometimes. Next, Mary had them pass the Quaffle around. James could pass it while standing on his broomstick, or around the back without looking, or probably while on fire, but he didn't show off that much. Peter could catch it and then move it to another person without hurting himself. That was the extent of his skills. Admittedly, it beat out a couple of other players, who took a Quaffle or two in the face and got kicked off the pitch. A few of them went off to sit with the prospective Beaters, whose try-outs would be up after the Chaser was chosen. Next came the part Peter was dreading: having to actually prove he could put the ball in the hoop. He, James, and a girl already on the team named Hester were first up. They had to get past the Beaters and score, or at least give the Keeper a run for his money. Mary was having a mate of hers from Hufflepuff play the alternate Beater role, a huge bloke that looked like he could smash the Bludger into dust if he was given a harder bat. With five tries to score, James made four goals and Peter missed his one. On the bright side, he'd managed to avoid being hit by the Bludgers; evidently his fear of being bludgeoned by heavy metal objects had paid off. James took a blow to the shoulder that probably would have knocked Peter off his broom; James didn't even slow down. They touched down together, Peter stumbling a bit. "I was rubbish," said Peter, trying not to throw up. "I think the Keeper felt bad for me. He looked like he wanted to toss it back and have me try again." "You weren't that bad, mate. He almost caught one of mine, too." This was a lie, and they both knew it, but Peter gave a little smile at James' effort. "And that Beater Hufflepuff's got is a beast. Look at this!" He pulled his robe to the side. Already there was a large round bruise where he'd been struck. "Don't fancy facing off against him, let me tell you." "S'why I'm not out for Beater. I figure if I leave the Bludgers alone, they'll leave me alone." James wandered over to the prospective Beaters and took a seat next to one of them. Peter followed after, nervously avoiding the eye of a nice-looking third year. He focused instead on the try-outs. None of them were doing as well as James did. The only one to come close made one shot out of three attempts. The one he was paired up with missed twice, once despite a wide-open goal. It was probably James' fault; they were trying to show him up, and there was no showing up James Potter. Once she'd tried out all the remaining Chasers-to-be, Mary called them all over. "Well, it was a hard choice. You've all done pretty well out there. Some better than others, yes, but you'd all make a good choice for this team. But I have to choose, and today, the best fit for the team is Peter Pettigrew." Peter was expecting to hear "James Potter," so much so that he jumped more at not hearing James' name than hearing his own. "You didn't get it?!" he exclaimed to James. "Who's Peter Petti--what, me?!" "What, him?!" demanded James. "You're good, James. And when there's a spot again, you should try out, 'cos you'll probably get it. But Peter got the Quaffle from one end of the pitch to the other better than you did. He wasn't afraid to pass, and he's the best dodger I've seen in a while. You can make goals, but you're not a team player. Right now, we need someone who can assist more than someone who can score." Mary shrugged. "I still have to do the Beater, so you lot can go. Pete, I reckon we'll be done here in about an hour, so come back around then and I'll introduce you to the rest of the team." Peter nodded vaguely and walked away with the rejected Chasers. He'd beaten James. He'd beaten James. He'd beaten James. No matter how many times he tried, it didn't fit into his mind. No one beat James. Few people even tied him. In Peter's mental hierarchy, James was the supreme quasi-deity, looming over even Dumbledore. He beat James. No, it didn't work. He looked at James. There was an expression on his face that Peter couldn't quite define. He was walking a little faster than normal; normally the others slowed their pace enough for Peter to keep up with them. Peter wasn't sure if James was trying to get away from him or not, so Peter kept pace but stayed a few feet behind him. As they reached the entrance to the castle, James suddenly stopped and turned around; Peter just barely avoided running into him. "Peter." "Erm. Listen, I'm--" "I'm sorry, mate," said James. Peter recognized the look now: guilt. "I shouldn't have said that." "Why not? I did. I'm not... I'm not you." "No. You're you. And you won. Fair and square." He put out his hand again. "No hard feelings, okay?" Peter took James' hand without a second thought. "I guess you'll just have to comfort yourself with the thought of being better at everyone else at everything else." Peter smirked a bit. "Well, my tremendous skill does offer some comfort. Besides, if that blonde third year makes it on the team, maybe you could talk me up to her." "I thought you had your eye on Lily Evans." "I've got two eyes." PB: Kieran Culkin JOURNAL: the_w_in_mwpp WAS THIS CHARACTER HELD FOR YOU?: ANYTHING ELSE?:

	2008.11.23  16.25 Y'know, with all the Yanks around going on about turkey and things, it's made me a bit peckish. What say we have a dinner, American style and all? We could do up a turkey, and by we, I mean Lily and Moony, because neither Prongs nor Padfoot should be permitted near ovens or raw poultry. There are lots of things to be thankful for, I mean. Marriages. Children. Cute feathery girlfriends. Edit: It's a dumb idea, isn't it? Never mind. How about toast? Who wants toast? I'm going to make toast.

	2008.08.20  01.48 Y'know, Prongs, I've been thinking lately. Maybe you were too hard on Harry about naming his kid after Snivvy. Imagine if Snape went and had a kid (or gave birth to one, we all knew it'd happen sooner or later) and named it James. James Snape. Doesn't it disgust you? Now think about how our good friend Severus must feel knowing that, somewhere out there, there's a Potter with his name attached. Cor, that must get up his nose (not that it's a small target, mind.)

	2008.07.24  21.19 Would someone work this Muggle thing? I'm bloody incorporeal! Oh, it has a voice doohickey. Those Muggles are on the ball nowadays, aren't they? So, I'm a little bit dead, but could someone point me in the direction of a James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Harry Potter (it's like a club sandwich with Potter bread) or an open-minded necrophiliac, I'd be much obliged.

	2008.06.30  23.45 ( Oi, Beth. )

	2008.04.12  00.15 ( Beth ) ( Padfoot )

	2008.03.12  16.44 Hullo. My name's Peter. Some of you probably think you know me. Some of you probably do. Last I was in my world, I was just leaving sixth year. I was a Gryffindor. Then I got here and... well, you've been through it. If I'd've grown up there, I'd have gone on to be a... very bad person. But now, I don't want to bother anyone. I don't want to cause trouble for anyone. I'd just like to walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. If you hate me for what I would have grown into, fine. I do too. But leave me be and I'll not... do anything of... anything. ( Private )

	2008.03.02  03.05 ( Mates )

	2008.01.11  00.38 ( Young Remus, Young Sirius, Jamesy James )