Title: PETTIGREW, peter
Description: by Lena. Who isn't too happy with it.
Description: by Lena. Who isn't too happy with it.
Peter Pettigrew - September 28, 2007 11:38 PM (GMT)
Peter Pettigrew
played by Lena
- THE PUPPET
nicknames : Pete, Petey, Wormtail
date of birth : May 25, 1960
house : Gryffindor
age : Sixteen
year : Sixth
wand type : Ten and a half inches, Hawthorn, Ashwinder Ash
blood line : Pure
pets : None. He used to have a toad named Sasha, but no one’s really sure what happened to it.
- THE LOOKS
eye color : Brown
height & weight : Standing at five feet and five inches, the boy weighs around one-hundred and fifty pounds, thus making him slightly overweight.
played by : I want Charles Hughes, but I can’t find any pictures anywhere besides like two from the movie. Lame.
So instead we’ve got Filip Polonyi. Add some pounds and some acne to him, and he’d be a nice Peter really.
full appearance :
The boy really has no distinguishing features that would cause him to stand out from the rest of the crowd. He’s not someone you’d pick out for being tall, or skinny, or particularly fat, or extremely handsome, or anything at all. The boy’s just your average, slightly chubby sixteen-year-old named Peter Pettigrew. Compared to all of the three of his friends, Peter is nothing in terms of looks. He’s never been able to even dream of coming close to matching them, and he seems to have gotten used to the girls fawning over them, while not even sparing a glance at poor Peter. There was nothing at all special about the sixteen-year-old boy, besides perhaps the fact that he was a Marauder.
Peter possessed a rather round face, while not quite a dinner plate, it was far from the regular, oval shape of most others’ faces. The skin on said face was nowhere near the desired clear skin of most teenagers. Instead, his cheeks and nose were littered with small freckles and his forehead with a plague that strikes fear in some teenager’s hearts; acne. There wasn’t that much of it, of course, as treatment for the cursed things could be found, but it was still there, still quite prominent, mostly because the boy couldn’t keep his hands from picking at them too often. The actual skin beneath the bits of acne and several freckles was not terribly desirable either, but decent enough. It wasn’t tanned, resulting in a healthy shade of brownish pink that didn’t clash too horribly with the color of his hair, eyes or lips. The boy’s face tended to blush a deep shade of cherry red whenever he was embarrassed by something, upset, nervous or speaking to a girl.
The boy’s nose was smacked in the middle of the boy’s face, not being too long, nor too short, although a bit too wide at the very bottom. Perhaps that was a side effect of flaring his nostrils whenever he was excited, which happens a lot when you’re friends with the Marauders, or maybe it was just the way Peter’s genetics worked. Either way, the boy’s nose ended a little too high up, leaving an almost too large gap between the end of it and his lips and it spread a rather wide way across his face as well. The nose was also tilted a couple millimeters to the left, although that was not something you’d notice unless you happened to stare at the boy for a long time and compare him with others around him, none of these features were painfully obvious.
The boy’s eyes were a little too small in his face, leading others to notice that before everything else when glancing over him. The eyes were an almond shape, and about the same in color as well. The color was very nice when you looked into them, truly looked into them, combining a couple different shades of hazels and a shade of green to make a sort of olive color, but with the stronger hint of browns than the green. The eyes were surrounded by often-heavy looking lids, simply from the lack of sleep the boy got between the stories of his friends, reading faery tales and homework. The boy’s eyelashes were barely noticeable and were the same shade as the boy’s hair. His eyebrows weren’t too light to notice, nor were they so prominent they would catch your eye at a glance, they were just there.
The boy’s lips were puffy and slightly chubby, just like the rest of him. Often chapped from a constant attempt to keep them moist, they bled frequently, causing the boy to suck on them. The lips were placed nicely just above the boy’s chin, right where they should be, yet they looked low because of where the boy’s nose ended. His double chin below the lips fit into the rest of his complexion and, besides a couple of stray hairs, was free of facial hair.
The boy’s body in general was chubby, yet not so fat as to be considered disgusting, just chubby. Although clearly slightly overweight, it was not enough to lead to mocking, nor did it cause him to look like he was about to roll away on the roundness of his girth. He fit into normal sized robes, though they were tight around the chest area. That was all Peter allowed himself to wear at school, the designed uniform. He was never terribly comfortable in muggle outfits, partially because his taste in fashion could be used as subject for jest, or perhaps because he feels more like everyone else in the school uniforms.
- THE INSIDES
Ø The Marauders
Ø Having friends
Ø Sweets, especially chocolate frogs
Ø Rats, and rodents in general really.
Ø Watching Quidditch
Ø Knowledge
Ø Being protected from anything that may possibly harm him.
Ø Charms
Ø Defense Against The Dark Arts
Ø Being an animagus
Ø Faery tales
dislikes :
Ø Slytherins
Ø Failing things
Ø Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans
Ø Transfigurations
Ø Potions
Ø The Forbidden Forest
Ø Cats
Ø Getting in trouble
Ø People in Power
Ø The Feeling of Jealousy
strengths :
Ø Charms – he’s actually halfway decent at them. Sort of.
Ø Finding his way around
Ø Sticking to his friends like glue
Ø Hiding things he’d rather not reveal about himself
weaknesses :
Ø Way too many things
Ø He’s always been second to his friends
Ø He gets nervous easily and stutters a lot. A lot!
Ø Transfiguration
Ø Being Subtle
Ø Cleanliness (to some degree)
Ø Fitting in
Ø Standing up for himself
Ø Divination
habits/quirks :
Ø Chews on nails profusely when nervous… and when not nervous
Ø Eats messily and rather quickly
Ø Stutters or slurs words together when speaking
boggart :
All alone, cold, shivering and forced to defend himself with everything he’s ever known or loved crashing around him. Peter sees himself, standing in a pouring rain, his whole body shaking and his robes clinging to his sides, his wand is pulled out and his eyes are focused on something towering above him. The fear is obvious in his face.
Peter is afraid of many things, but his greatest true fear is having to face them all by himself.
patronus : A capybara.
First meeting Sirius, Remus and James on his first day at Hogwarts.
They didn’t automatically spurn him, or tell him to leave them alone. Instead, they talked to him, and the four actually ended up becoming friends. These three were the first real friends that Peter had, and they were everything he loved and lived for, for now. His memory includes flashes of conversation and moments of sympathy, as well as a rather detailed scene of the others helping him manage to master his animagus form.
dream job : He’s really got no idea, although with the help of his friends, he’d like to go into working for the Ministry, perhaps for the Department of Regulations of Magical Creatures
overall personality :
The parts of Peter’s personality that one may see varies with whom he happens to be at the time, where they are, and what they are doing. Otherwise, the boy’s been known to display all sorts of things besides anything that might have landed him in Gryffindor. In fact, after getting to know the boy, most believe the Sorting Hat may have made a mistake after all those years of peering inside students’ heads to find out where their true selves lie. Peter belongs more in Hufflepuff than any of the other houses as he’s not eager to find power, he’s not brave, and nor is he exceptionally bright.
When the boy is with his three friends, he’s a very different person. He’s eager to laugh and smile freely with them and even crack a joke or two, as unfunny as they might be, but he still tries. Although Peter wants to be just like his friends, just as popular and loved by girls, he can never quite match them, nor does he show it openly. Besides that, Peter’s an open person, eager to share rumors or secrets he’s heard around, even more eager to listen to what others have to say on the subject. With his friends, he’s known to attempt some things he’d never do otherwise, although not too often. He’s certainly gotten his fair share of detentions over his time because of Sirius and James, but he served them with his friends, making the time pass quicker. Peter doesn’t enjoy playing pranks quite as much as his two friends, but he does it anyway whenever they ask him to help them with anything, if he’s capable of doing it. He’s not a very good wizard, nor is he terribly bright, and he lacks a bit of common sense, but in his mind, his friends forgive and overlook all these qualities for whatever good they find in Peter. Truly, he’s not fully sure why they bother to hang out with him, instead of every other person in Gryffindor, but he does not complain either. Without the Marauders, Peter would be absolutely nothing, without his friends, he’d be completely forgotten. He often finds himself worrying about where they are whenever he’s not with them, hoping they did not ditch him for someone better. Extremely naïve, Peter sometimes finds himself asking stupid questions, but his friends only laugh it off, often without providing a decent answer.
In contrast, when Peter is among people he does not know, is forced to speak in front of a group of people, or is merely out in front of a large crowd, he seems a different person. His facial features no longer display as much of a bright emotion as they do when he’s merely with the Marauders. Peter doesn’t speak much; hesitating to say as much as a simple Hello, forget stating his opinion on something. In his mind, when he’s not with his friends, everyone else is laughing him at, everyone else is generally right, and his opinion is wrong, even if it closely coincides with what everyone else is saying. Due to this, Peter rarely speaks in class unless forced to, even them muttering something barely coherent under his breath and blushing a deep shade of cherry red. He’s afraid of what the others would think of him, thus often not speaking to people unless they address him first, and forget a girlfriend. Peter finds many people, among them a cousin of Sirius’, Narcissa, quite pretty, but he’s never spoken to a girl unless he had, and even then for not very long. He’s often afraid of making eye contact, lest he sees something in the other person’s eyes that might be negative.
Peter’s also got his share of secret feelings that aren’t displayed in either situation. He harbors a heavy jealousy towards both James and Sirius, the popular ones of the four Marauders. These two always have a group of girls twittering somewhere nearby, causing Peter to wish he had fan girls as well. He does not hate his too friends, but he does not like them either, not as much as he likes Remus at least. Peter’s not as comfortable with these two as he was with Remus, not able to share his naivety or constant nervous feelings with them, not feeling like he connected with them enough to be good friends. Nonetheless, he considered all four of them to be quite close. He’s also never told any of his friends of any of the girls he’d ever had feelings for, not trusting them to not laugh at him for it or tell him he’s got no chance. Peter knows that all by himself. He’s never dared to ask a girl out, nor will he ever in the future.
Bleh. I’m so not good at Personality. Sorry about the amount of fail in the three paragraphs above.
- THE BEGINNING
hometown : London.
mother and father :
Aurelia (nee Mapp) Pettigrew
Alexander Pettigrew
brothers and sisters :
None
other relatives :
His grandparents on his mother’s side are dead, as his grandfather in his father’s side. His grandmother on his father’s side no longer speaks to the family for unknown reasons.
Aunt Lucille (nee Mapp) Fishman (married to a muggle)
Uncle Albert Fishman (said muggle)
Uncle Frederick Mapp (unmarried)
overall history:
Born in the middle of the night, around three AM, it was disputed for a while after his birth as to when Peter actually was born, May 24th or 25th. Finally, Aurelia got sick of the debate and called his birthday the 25th of May to anyone who questioned it, it was never recorded formally on his Certificate of Birth.
The boy grew up with lots of love and nourishment, perhaps even too much, from his wizarding parents. His mother stayed at home with him, teaching him to speak, read and later write, as well as attempting to teach him a couple simple spells at an early age, but failing to do so. His father, on the other hand, was barely ever home, working for the Ministry of Magic and traveling around the world a lot. Peter never knew much about his profession, but he grew quite close to his mother, quite fond of her. His family lived in an apartment in the midst of muggle London; therefore they had no family pets besides a family of fish in a large tank by one wall. While Peter spent quite some time on a farm with his Aunt Lucille, he never grew fond of animals, only particularly taking to the chickens at the farm. Spending time on the farm, however, developed quite the sweet tooth in Peter. Lucille was quite the accomplished cook, spending a lot of time in the kitchen and using both magic and her own skills to create fanciful pies, cakes and a variety of other sweets for the boy. Peter never blamed his Aunt for making the sweets, even though they caused him to gain quite a lot of weight that was hard to work off, which was never worked off again. He always remained slightly overweight, and he had Aunt Lucille’s fabulous cuisine to blame for that.
There was a question in Peter’s ability to perform magic, as he was never truly able to when his mother attempted to teach him a couple basic spells with the use of her own wand. Both mother and father sincerely hoped that Peter did, however, possess the talent for it, as Peter did not have terribly many friends and Hogwarts would be an opportunity to meet people his own age. He was not allowed outside to play much, as the busy streets of a bustling town were no place for a young boy, yet Peter had one correspondent whom he considered a good friend until the other moved away to a place he called America. The boy had been a muggle that Peter had run into accidentally on the street, literally, and stuck to for a couple years of his life. After this friend broke Peter’s nose in a play fight between the two, his mother no longer wanted the two to meet, thus leaving Peter alone once again.
Finally, the summer after the boy’s 11th birthday came around, and a Hogwarts owl was seen swooping around the apartment complex that evening. The owl carried a list of school supplies and a letter welcoming Peter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mrs. and Mr. Pettigrew were quite proud of their son, rushing off to buy school supplies, robes, and finally a wand of his very own for their little Peter. The boy was probably just as excited as his parents, eager to learn magic and make some friends. He’d wanted an owl, but his parents bought him a toad instead, deeming him not responsible enough to take care of a bird.
Before long, September rolled around, and Peter was on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, clutching his mother’s robes, not wishing to leave the woman who’d been his only friend for so long. The train blew its final couple whistles and Peter, sniffling with his teary eyes, barely made it unto the train on time. Clutching the cage with his toad and his trunk, already wearing his set of Hogwarts school robes, he had quite a bit of trouble finding an empty seat on the train, seeing as he was among the last people to actually board. At last, an almost empty compartment was found with none other but Remus Lupin inside. There wasn’t anything to talk about on the train ride and most of it was spent in silence, staring out the window or at the other boy.
The Great Hall, once Peter got there, was large, filled with a crowd of students who all seemed to be staring at him and him alone. The small, mousy boy hid among his fellow students, not wishing to be seen.
“Pettigrew, Peter.”
The hall hushed, just like they did for every other student before him, and every student after him, but the silence seemed oppressing, seemed to be caving in on the little Peter when he stepped forward to don the hat that was supposed to sort him into a house. The Sorting Hat was quiet for a long time, and the boy feared that it would never speak a word when it yelled out “Gryffindor!” and his fate was set in stone.
The boy found a seat at the table nearby Remus Lupin, recognizing him from the train, and met Sirius Black and James Potter there as well. It was the beginning of a glorious friendship, a beginning of the Marauders.
The rest of his five years at school thus far were spent between hanging around with his friends, getting in trouble with them at times, and hoping he did not fail any of his classes completely. Between Os in Charms and Ts in History of Magic and the help of his friends in those things he was not good at, Peter managed to maintain fairly decent grades during the time. He learned magic of all sorts, though he could only actually perform about half of what he knew of, being simply physically incapable of getting up enough courage and strength to mean any of the other spells, to make them work.
Besides magic, Peter learned quite a lot about his friends as well. He’d had several rather unpleasant encounters with Sirius’ cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa mostly, as well as a flock of Sirius’ fanthings. He’d tolerated James’ addiction to the supposedly stunning Lily Potter, although he could see nothing terribly fancy about her. Peter preferred blondes. His possibly most important secret ever was a secret all four of them swore to keep amongst themselves. They taught themselves to become Animagi for the sake of Remus Lupin, a werewolf. Once a month, the four friends would sneak out and transform into a deer, large dog, rat and werewolf. It was hard at first, even taking Peter about a month longer than the rest of them to manage, but he finally succeeded. They laughed about him turning into a rat later, but he considered it rather convenient, if not terribly useful.
What will Peter’s 6th year hold for him at Hogwarts? What secrets will be revealed? Well, we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?
- THE PUPETEER
contact :
AIM: Soulless Romance
other? : Hm. Not really.
roleplay example :
Lucius Malfoy is in jail with Bellatrix Lestrange – Narcissa is visiting the two.
He was all too aware of just how horrid he looked, all too aware that even if he had managed to get out the words she had wanted to hear, he would not have looked as if he meant them. He knew that his long, silvery-blonde hair had lost some of its sheen while he was in Azkaban, it had grown tangled and messy, un-brushed for three long months. It was during these times that Lucius wished he had not had long, high-maintenance hair, but it was a little bit too late for those wishes. Perhaps he would have to get it cut anyway if he ever got out, once he was out, no if. Always an if, never a once. The dementors fed off happiness, hope, love; they did not want his despair, regret or anger. The feelings remained somewhere deep inside, but Lucius was forced to hide them away from the cruel creatures that patrolled the halls. His thoughts turned back to his appearance once again. He knew exactly what Narcissa saw when she looked at him. She saw a man, dismantled quite some time ago. She saw his eyes, his once cold, calm, grey eyes; reeking of self-pity, misery, and the agony he felt. The agony in his soul, the excruciation of his heart, the suffering from the cold, damp place that he was forced to call his home for three long months already. His hair was twisted into knots that would probably have to be cut out, the long, blonde locks no longer falling as smoothly as they had before. They were now limp, lifeless, merely hanging dead from his scalp. His cheeks sagged, and the fact that his skin had turned a ghastly shade of strange grey from the complete lack of Vitamin D did not help at all. He was aware that he looked old, worn out, and Lucius could not imagine how Narcissa could stand to look at him like this. He was dressed in rags, beggars' clothes, stained and filthy from the wear of him, and many, many others before him. The clothes, if you could actually call them that much, rubbed against his skin, irritating the softness that had been used to fine silks and velvets before the prison. If there had been a mirror in his cell, he probably would have smashed it, he knew he would not have been able to bear the thought of himself looking like that. He looked like scum, bloody, filthy scum. At the sound of her voice once more, Lucius was startled out of his thoughts of himself, turning instead to thoughts of her. She looked so beautiful in the faint natural light in the prison, so clean and neat, he was almost afraid to touch her.
"I've...Missed you as...w-well.." As more tears flooded her eyes, Lucius' thumb attempted to wipe them off once again, but they just kept coming. He did not want to speak of Draco, just of them, Draco was not there with them, and Lucius did not want conversation of his son to ruin their few moments together. His voice was as soft as her's as he leaved down against the bars of his cage, his face pressing into them in attempt to just be closer to her. "'Cissy..." The nickname he had used for her many times when they were at home, he almost never called her Narcissa, that sounded so formal to Lucius. "...'Cissy please... Don't.. cry..." It nearly broke his heart to see her cry, as butchered as it already was by the dementors, her tears just stabbed it again and again with every tear that fell. He tried to wipe them all away, made attempts to catch them; as if with every tear saved from sitting the ground, his sentence would be reduced by one more day, he would be able to spend one more hour with Narcissa. All the tears leaked through his fingers, hitting the ground silently, and yet he kept trying. As if by saving just one tear, Lucius would be saving himself. His own grey eyes filled with tears, and he continued to hold them back even more. He would not cry in front of his wife, he had to appear strong. Several furious blinks got rid of the liquid impairing his vision, but he could not be sure that Narcissa had not noticed his tears.
As she moved even closer to the bars it almost seemed, for one brief second, that they were together and happy, but the joy in his heart did not last. The dementor floating behind the old wizard that had accompanied him here had made a strange gurgling sound, and the delight had fled his soul once more. Damn those stupid things, why couldn't they just let him have one moment of peace and happiness. After 'Cissy had finished speaking to her sister, words that had simply flown past Lucius' ears, words he had not heard. He merely heard the tone of her voice as she spoke, she was pleading with Bellatrix, and he was about ready to do the same; but some other urge overcame Lucius at that moment.
He turned her head towards him with his hands, both his palms resting against her cheeks then, grasping her face lightly in his hands. His eyes met her's, the longing and desperation could be found in both of them, the urges that wished to be fulfilled upon the prison floor. He could not go quite that far, not with the barred door between them, but he wanted her now more than ever before. Clutching her face, he drew her closer to himself, pressing his own head against the rough metal between them. Their lips met, and Lucius tasted her once again on his mouth. Her two rosy lips against his pale ones. As his mouth brushed gently over hers, he let his eyes close and his grip on her cheeks loosen slightly, his hands moving lower to cup the very top of her neck. How he wished the damn bars were not in his way. Her lips tasted warm, fresh, sweet as he bit her lower lip gently, deepening the kiss for his own pleasure. His tongue had found it's way inside her mouth, stroking her's. She tasted so good after long, bitter months. The hunger for her was no where near satisfied within him, and he could do nothing more than kiss her here, now, nothing more but enjoy the moment he had with her before she had to leave him once again. He held her tighter to him, attempted to press her to his body through the bars, but he was afraid of hurting her by doing so, and it took all of his will to repress the animalistic want for her to be in the cell with him. The dragon inside Lucius had awoken, it was hungry and Narcissa was its food, and Lucius could not feed it, could not satisfy it.
As Bella's voice broke the silence of their kiss, Lucius was forced to pull away from his wife. He wished Bella had disappeared, leaving them alone to go over their memories, alone to catch up on things. His lips pulled away from hers and the misery flooded his eyes once again, the anger caused him to let out a low hiss in the darkness. The kiss, in itself, had been pure ecstasy, and pulling away from it when he was nowhere near started was agony for Lucius. He could have kissed her forever and it would not have been enough. His hands dropped from his wife as he could no longer control his anger. The dragon of lust had turned into the dragon of rage inside him, its breath stung his stomach and its claws threatened to tear through the brittle layer keeping his anger inside him. His fists clenched and unclenched in the dark as his jaw squeezed his teeth tighter together in attempts to keep his emotions under control. The attempts failed. Lucius walked up to the wall angrily, Lucius hit his tightly squeezed fists against the wall separating Bella's cell and his own.
"Why do you enjoy tormenting us so, Bellatrix? Is it because you, yourself have never known love? Is it because you want to get back at us for feeling something you are not capable of? Is it because the one and only filthy thing you actually love does not love you back?" The anger was heavy in his voice as he proceeded to beat his fists against the wall, the sharp rocks jabbing into his hands, breaking the skin, and causing blood to fall from them. "Is it Bellatrix? Is it?" He did not even want to know the answer to the questions, but they continued to come, flowing from him in a trail of pure, livid spite towards his sister-in-law. She had never respected him, never respected anyone, besides her damned Dark Lord. Did she even know love? No. Of course not. The tears came from his eyes once again, silent this time, as he continued to gasp for breath from his fit of rage. His pulse had elevated way above average with the kiss, and even higher as Bellatrix has interrupted it even further. How dare she even suggest some of these things she spoke of, even if some of them were true, how dare she mention them in front of his wife. He slammed his right fist into the wall once more, and gasped as a sickening crunch rang through the halls. The crunch of breaking bone on harsh rocks. His right hand began to shake violently, no longer capable of being clutched into a fist with the same ferocity as it had been. Lucius' anger seemed to melt away, and he merely stood in the corner between the bars and the stone wall, gasping for breath over the last remnants of the damned anger and his newly acquired pain. Both of his hands bled profusely, his right more than his left, and the blood pooled in them when he cupped them. His right knuckles were definitely broken, amid the faint red shades, specks of white shone. Just how badly had the bone shattered?
"Damn you Bellatrix. Damn you, and your cursed Dark Lord. Damn the both of you to hell.."
Lily Evans - September 29, 2007 03:09 AM (GMT)
You did a wonderful job with Peter. Congrats.
Please wait for Kat's approval before being accepted.
Please wait for Kat's approval before being accepted.
Sirius Black - September 29, 2007 03:10 AM (GMT)
I say great job as well. (:
Lily Evans - September 29, 2007 03:13 AM (GMT)
Accepted.
Please register you account.
Please register you account.