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The Hogwarts Kitchens (Wormtail)


Peter didn't know where else to go, so, despite knowing that Remus, James, and Sirius were on their way up to Gryffindor Tower, he still hurried up the staircase, headed for the dormitories. He was blistering mad, finally allowing the tension that had been building up in him some time to boil over. Where did the other three get off always acting like he was an extra, a nusiance? The sorting hat had placed him in Gryffindor the same as them, and he was just as clever and fun as they were, wasn't he? It wasn't fair that James and Sirius and Remus got to be best friends and he was just Peter, the fourth wheel in their little gang. Everyone sort of treated him like that, forgetting about him, never listening to his point of view, never treating him like he was important...

He realized, as he came to a stop to stand before the portrait of the Fat Lady that was the guard to Gryffindor tower, that he couldn't remember the new password that had been set following the holidays. He racked his brains, searching through the depths of thoughts spinning through them for the password, which had to be stored up in there someplace, but nothing came to him, so he stood there stammering at her stupidly.

“Well?” she asked, staring down at him over her little fan.

“I've forgotten the password,” Peter told her.

She laughed, a peal of tinkling little giggles that made Peter's face burn. Even the portrait of the Fat Lady didn't take him seriously! “Can't let you in without the password,” said the Fat Lady.

“But – but I'm Peter Pettigrew,” he tried, frustrated, “I'm a Gryffindor. First year. And – and I need to get inside.”

The Fat Lady started fixing her large pouf of pinkish-blonde hair, ignoring him.

“The list of passwords are in my trunk,” Peter said, “Let me though. I'll go get it and bring it back to you and then I'll tell you any password you want.” She shook her head at him. “Please,” Peter begged. He could hear laughter and footsteps echoing down the hallway and looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes. “Please,” he tried again, not wanting the other boys to see him standing outside begging for the Fat Lady to let him in. They'd never take him seriously if they had to let him into the common room. “Please,” he begged.

“That's not the way a password works,” the Fat Lady chirped.

Peter felt hot tears threatening his eyes and he banged his fist against her frame. “Let me in,” he demanded, but the Fat Lady didn't budge. Last thing he needed was for the boys to see him crying on top of being stuck outside the common room, yet he couldn't stop the tears from coming as the footsteps got louder and closer.

“Peter!” He turned around and, with a shock of relief, he saw it was Bilius Weasley and a sixth year girl he didn't know. “Blimey Peter, you look a mess. Have you been crying?” Bilius's face shone with concern.

Peter nodded, deciding quite quickly that his best hope for revenge on James and them would be to soak the opportunity for all it was worth. After all, Prefects had the power to dole out punishments. If Bilius felt bad enough for him, he might punish the other boys for being nasty to him. Then whenever they were rubbish to him again, he'd just threaten to go tell Bilius and they'd listen up and pay him attention, like they should've been doing all along anyways. They'd stop treating him like an afterthought for sure, then!

Bilius turned to the girl, “Looks like I'm needed for prefect duty, Amelia,” he said, smiling, “It was lovely having breakfast with you. Shall we do it again sometime?” he winked charmingly at her and she smiled as he took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles gently.

“Sounds great,” she said, “You kiss-up.” Her eyes danced though, even as she said it. “Bye Bilius. Bye Percy,” she added, smiling.

“It's Peter,” corrected Peter, frowning.

“Sorry.” Amelia turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady and declared, “Bat-bogey Hex.” The Fat Lady gave Peter a look of triumph, then swung open.

Once Amelia had scrambled through the portrait hole, Bilius turned back to Peter and took a deep breath. “Alight, Pettigrew, what's the matter?”

Peter sighed, “It's the other First Years,” he explained heavily, with all the trembling tones he could muster. “They've been awful to me. They all get along bangingly and they just… never include me. I think they'd just rather if I wasn't even here, if it was just the three of them and no me. James especially. He'll do anything to remind me that I'm just an outsider in the group.” Peter hung his head, thinking this might add to the sympathy points he was trying to build up with Bilius.

Bilius mused to himself a moment, rubbing his chin. Finally, he put a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I'm sorry, mate,” he said. “You know what? I have something I'd like to show you. I think it'll help. C'mon.”

There was a moment's hesitation – Peter could hear Remus, James, and Sirius coming down the hallway, and he sort of wanted to get Bilius to stick around long enough to punish them before he forgot about how angry at them he might feel… but Bilius was already walking down the hallway in the opposite direction of the on-coming First Years, and Peter let out a squeak and ran to catch up to him.

“Where are we going to?” Peter asked.

Bilius answered, “The kitchens.”

“The kitchens?” asked Peter, confused. “How's that help?” Part of him wanted to suggest they turn back to the common room.

Bilius explained, “When I first came to Hogwarts, it was when Armando Dippet was headmaster and there were a lot less muggle-borns and half-bloods here. Most everyone was pureblood, and the few that weren't were all clustered in Hufflepuff together basically. That was just six years ago. So my family had a reputation already for being 'muggle lovers'. I mean, it wasn't unfounded. My brother, Arthur, I've never known a wizard in all my life who was more fascinated by muggles, and he was going here at the time, too. He was a few years ahead, graduated during my fourth year. Anyway. Everyone called me a muggle lover and it was still new and weird because people were taught to be scared of muggles and the wizards who love them, so people avoided me like crazy. Then Dumbledore became headmaster and I had a crack at making some real friends for the first time at Hogwarts. So to make friends--” Bilius interrupted himself, pointing at the floor, “Watch that step there, Peter, it's a trick. You step on that step and it'll make the whole flight go flat, like a giant slide, which sounds much cooler than it is.”

Peter carefully avoided the step Peter indicated.

“Anyway,” Bilius continued, “It was hard to make friends for me, so… to make friends… I had to earn it. So I became the guy who brings the snacks. I spent ages learning where the kitchens were so I could bring back snacks and drinks, all provided by the House Elves. They're my mates now,” he added with a laugh. “Knicking food from the kitchen, though, sounds much more impressive than having house elves force you to take as much food as you can carry.”

“I dunno, that sounds pretty impressive to me,” said Peter.

“Well, it's not really, you'll see. Anyway, that became me – I'm the snack guy. The funny guy. I fit in because if they wanted snacks then they had to include me. Instant popularity.” Bilius grinned.

Peter was quite excited by now. James and Sirius had mentioned several times that they wanted to find the kitchens during their map-making so that they could make a sport of knicking snacks and drinks the way Bilius did. Now it was Peter who would know the secret of where the kitchens were and how to get the food and they'd include him in things, even if it was only for the snacks.

They'd been walking for most of the conversation, and now they were down a long corridor full of paintings and Peter realized that they were all of food or feasts and he had a feeling they must be quite close. He was quite surprised, however, when Bilius came to a sudden stop before a painting of a pear. “Welcome, Pettigrew, to the best room the whole castle's got to offer,” said Bilius, and before Peter could even ask what madness Bilius was up to, as there was no door anywhere to be seen, Bilius reached out and tickled the pear 'round where a belly might have been, if pears had bellies. To Peter's continued shock and awe, the pear began to giggle and quiver and Bilius continued tickling it and soon the pear rolled away, wheezing, and as it rolled, the frame of the painting opened up the way the Fat Lady's portrait did at Gryffindor common room.

They stepped inside and Peter was immediately overwhelmed with smells and sights and his eyes darted all over the kitchen, trying to take it all in. It was very warm and fragrant of baking bread and bubbling stews and baking sweets. There were rows of prep stations with tools and pans and bowls and platters and pitchers all down the length of the room, which was larger than the Great Hall. In fact, Peter realized, the kitchens were probably directly beneath the Great Hall, and the idea was confirmed when he saw four tables labeled with the house names with plates being set out and he realized this must be how food magicked into place up stairs. The elves must set it all on the tables below and apparate it into the Great Hall. Speaking of the elves – at each of the prep stations, there was a tall stool or a chair pushed up against it and on the chairs, in little squares of cloth wrapped around themselves like aprons, each emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest, stood house elves, hard at work.

With a wave for Peter to follow him, Bilius led the way among the prep stations towards a row of ovens along one side wall of the room. As they passed by, the elves paused what they were doing to look, their bulbous eyes wide and ears twitching with excitement and soon Peter could hear them whispering and squeaking to one another along the rows, “Master Wheezy, Master Wheezy has a friend with him for us to meet,” and their excitement became so thick it was nearly tangible in the room.

“Didn't Master Wheezy eats enough of his porridge in at breakfast?” came a squealy little voice before them, and Peter turned to see an old house elf rushing over to greet Bilius, her big ears flapping joyfully, with little tufts of white hair coming out of them. She had ashes on her toes and was wiping flour off her palms and onto a little tea towel she'd tied around herself like a toga.

Bilius grinned, “You know me, I can't ever get enough to eat.”

The house elf smiled and nodded, “Master Wheezy is very hard to fill up, I's is trying to many times and still he is needing more to eat.” She shook her head, “I's is thinking that Master Wheezy must have hollow legs!” She was talking to Peter. “Who is you, Master Wheezy's friend?” she asked.

“My name's Peter,” he answered.

“And this is Bindi,” said Bilius, waving at the little elf with a smile. “She's the best cook in the world, I expect, elf or not.”

Bindi's little face turned pink and she wrapped her long ears around her eyes and squeaked, “Master Wheezy is exaggerating.”

“Not at all!” Bilius exclaimed, “She's the head chef, the one who makes up most of the things we get to eat around here. The feasts are her masterpieces! There's not a place on earth that serves better food than Hogwarts – everyone knows it.” He grinned.

The house elf continued to blush.

“Well it's very nice to meet you,” Peter said, “I'm a fan of your work with pot roast.”

Bindi laughed and lifted her ears from her eyes and gave him a little curtsy. “I is thank you, Master Peter, for your kind words.”

As they'd been talking, other house elves had been hopping off their stools and chairs and coming up to crowd around them and Peter suddenly realized they were completely surrounded by elves, staring up at them eagerly, jostling to get closer.

“Would you like some cookies, Masters Wheezy and Peter?” asked Bindi.

Bilius's grin widened even further than it'd already been, “Cookies? Right on! What sorts?”

“Oh all sorts,” answered Bindi, and she grabbed Bilius's hand and pulled him along, “Master Dumbledore-sir is asking Bindi to make him some new flavors, sir, and we is been working on making new flavors for his tastings, with all the flavors of sweets Master Dumbledore-sir enjoys.” She brought him to a fifth table Peter hadn't seen before, which was absolutely covered with cookies of all sorts of color and shapes in little piles, each marked with a tiny index card labeling the flavor. There really were all sorts of flavors, and they all looked splendid. Peter was most interested in a pile labeled Lemon Drop, which were bright yellow with lemon drop candy bits sprinkled on top, and least interested in a brown pile with little legs sticking out labeled Cockroach Clusters. “Master Dumbledore-sir won't be minding if Masters Wheezy and Peter take some cookies to try, I am sure!”

“Brilliant!” exclaimed Bilius, “We'll take whatever you can spare. Except for those,” he added, pointing at the cockroach clusters. “We'll, uh, leave all of those for Dumbledore.”

Peter smirked.

Bindi excitedly started stuffing little bags with cookies and as she did, other elves started shouting for Bilius and Peter to try their concoctions. Pieces of pie and cups of stew and small loaves of bread were being shoved into their arms and soon they were laden with tons of food, so much that they could barely carry it all, plus several bottles of butterbeer, all shoved into sacks to help them carry it back to Gryffindor Tower. They waved good-bye to the elves as they backed out of the kitchens and back into the corridor beyond the painting of the pear.

“Bye-bye,” cried Bindi, “Don't being strangers,” she added, “I is be making all sorts of treats all the time! I is always willing to share!” She flapped her ears.

“Oh we'll be back,” Bilius assured her.

When the painting had closed behind them and they were standing in the corridor once again, Bilius turned to Peter. “Aren't they grand?” he asked, taking a multicolored cookie out of a bag that Bindi had labeled Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and taking a bite.

“Oh yes,” agreed Peter, “Absolutely banging!”

Bilius led the way back up to Gryffindor Tower, quite pleased that he'd been able to help Peter cheer up after how sad he'd looked when he and Amelia had approached him before. Not only that, but he felt rather good, too, because he'd passed on the secret of how to get to the kitchens. After all, he only had one year left at Hogwarts and it was NEWTs, which would mean he'd need to focus on his school work and he'd have less time to visit Bindi and the other house elves in the kitchens during it. It was important, he felt, that Bindi be remembered, and now Peter Pettigrew could carry on with her and, if nothing else, Bindi would certainly be a good friend for him, just as she'd been to Bilius. So even if the other Gryffindor First Years didn't get on with Peter as they should – which he'd be sure to talk to them at some point about that as well – he'd still gotten Peter a friend.