Worth the Risk
A Remus Lupin Fan Fiction.
Chapter 2: Peter's Injury, Part 1
With Ella sandwiched in between the twins, they walked with linked arms to the greenhouses. They were early, so they took their usual places near the middle of the room, chatting with other fifth years as they gradually entered.
Once class had begun (the four Gryffindor boys were tardy), they began their assignment. The class would be reviewing Fanged Geraniums, a sharp-toothed plant, which they had worked on at the beginning of the year. O.W.L.s were approaching quickly, and the fifth years had been reviewing the past four years of studies in all of their classes.
As usual, Ella partnered up with Bryce while Bernadette paired with Mary MacDonald, another Gryffindor. Stealing a glimpse their way, she noticed that James was partnered with Sirius (not surprising) and Peter had collaborated with Remus.
Ella, as always, listened intently to instructions. Bryce, undoubtedly, had trouble anyway.
His brow furrowed as he stared at the plant, wondering how to go about approaching the thing. “How do you... I don't remember...” he trailed off, prodding the geranium with his wand, jerking his hand back when the plant snapped at it.
Ella rolled her hazel eyes. “Were you listening at all, Bryce?”
He shook his head blatantly, giving her a blank look.
The girl let out an exasperated sigh. “Here, like this.” Pulling out her own wand, she cast the correct spell on the plant and carefully plucked out its pointed tooth.
Bryce was Ella's number one best friend. Sure, Detta was one of her best friends, too, but she was mainly there for girl talk. Otherwise, all the blonde girl talked about was Quidditch; playing Keeper for the Gryffindor team had made her quite competitive. Other than that, she played just about every Muggle sport out there.
The twins were half-bloods, their mother a Muggle and their father a wizard. This was why the family lived in a Muggle neighborhood, right next to a Muggle-born Ella. When the redhead moved from the United States as a child, the three became instant best friends.
Ella held up the tooth for Bryce to see, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh,” said Bryce, recollecting the lesson. “I seem to have miraculously remembered how to execute this assignment correctly. Without anyone's help. Especially not Ella's.” He talked loudly, almost raising his voice to a shout. The majority of the class laughed; Professor Sprout hushed him.
After smirking at her friend, she turned back to her own work. “Let's see you do it then, you git,” she teased, chuckling. Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Sirius glancing at her demonstration,
She ignored him, wondering if anyone but herself had listened to the review. Working quickly and efficiently, she was the first to be finished. She notice Peter peeking at her as well, but she paid him no heed.
Not until he started bleeding, of course.
Being the fidgety and innattentive boy he was, Pettigrew hadn't watched where he put his tiny hands, earning him a bite on the finger. He cried out, drawing the students' eyes. The professor looked up, furrowing her brow at the outburst.
The teacher found Ella's workplace out of habit and, seeing that she was finished with the assignment, looked to her for assistance. “Elanor, would you be a dear and escort Mister Pettigrew to the hospital wing?” she asked, though Ella figured she didn't have a choice, being a prefect.
“I can go by myself,” Peter mumbled, nipping at his injury. His friends chuckled.
“Nonsense, dear, it's the buddy system. Off you go. Quickly, now.”
Ella threw Bryce an apologetic look before escorting the bleeding boy out of the greenhouse. Blushing slightly at his clumsiness, Peter sucked on his wound, cleaning the blood silently.
The girl's maternal instincts got the better of her and she reached out a hand. “Don't lick it. Here, let me see.”
The boy snatched his hand away, blue eyes flashing. Ella flinched, but held her ground. “It's not going to get any better with you cleaning it like that,” she persisted.
Peter didn't budge. “I don't need help from some Hufflepuff girl,” he grumbled, eyes narrowing.
Ella felt her eyebrows raise in a look that dared him to say more. She held out her hand again, like a mom waiting for a child to hand over a misused toy. The look and gesture reminded Peter too much of his own mother to argue further.
Sulking, he gave in. His face downcast, the boy glanced up at her from the corner of his eye.
Ella took the injured hand gently, examining the bite. When she finally released him, she ignored the small amount of his blood that had leaked onto her own hand. “You'll be fine,” she stated, looking ahead of them as the school doors came into view.
“I could have told you that,” he grumbled. He sounded annoyed, but his gaze had softened.
Ella felt her eyes roll for the umpteenth time that day. “Just don't suck on the blood. You don't know where that tooth has been.”
Pettigrew didn't respond, blushing again at his foolishness.
The pair fell silent, striding across the grounds. Peering furtively at the wounded Gryffindor, Ella took in his petite frame, pale skin, and unkempt shock of hair. It was a blondish-brown color, almost gray-looking. His long nose was upturned, and he chewed at his already-chapped lips with crooked teeth as they walked. His steps were light and quick, and he cradled his bloodied hand, fiddling with nothing in particular as he did so. His shockingly blue eyes never left the ground as he walked.
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