Chapter One.

Peter rummages through his bag and silently swears as his fingers grasp nothing but loose parchment, books, his wand, and a broken quill. He looks up, hoping to catch the eyes of either James or Sirius or Remus, but they're seated near the front of the Hall while he's somewhere near the back. Their History of Magic exam, the last hurdle the third years must face in order to be truly done with the school year. End of the year exams are always brutal, and everyone's feeling wrung out at this point, but Peter's feeling confident enough for the History of Magic one - if only he could find a damn quill.

He gives up on his bag and takes a furtive look around. As previously observed, his friends are all placed apart (likely the intention of the professors, as the penchant for mischief the four friends have is already common knowledge), and to his horror the proctoring professor is striding into the Hall, stacks of exams floating in her wake.

Peter looks around and wants to bang his head against the wall. To his left is a surly Slytherin he knows to be Bad News, to his right is Victoria Holt who's still furious with them all for the prank last Friday, and behind him is Magby from Hufflepuff, who's notorious for losing his quills. It's a minor miracle he has one, and Peter's not counting on him to have a spare.

That leaves the girl seated in front of him. Peter sighs and taps her shoulder.

Maureen Chance looks around with cool brown eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you have a spare quill I can borrow?" Peter gestures helplessly to his bag, abandoned in a heap at his feet. "I can't find mine anywhere."

The Ravenclaw witch lifts an eyebrow but nods, bending down to reach into her own bag where she pulls out not one but two quills, perfectly sharpened and in prime condition. Peter exhales gustily, relieved, and takes them with a quiet word of thanks. Chance turns back to face front and he places the quills on his desk just in time for the exams to float throughout the Hall, landing gently at each student's desk.

Peter rolls the quill between his fingers and skims over the test, grinning as he realizes he knows most of the answers to the questions. Dipping his quill into his inkwell, he starts.

He aces that exam.

Peter is almost done packing his suitcase when he looks at his bedside drawer and sees the two quills he borrowed from Chance earlier that day. He forgot to give them back to her, though it wouldn't have mattered: she disappeared as soon as the tests were collected and he was summarily mobbed by his friends, who moaned about confusing Gregory the Goon with Guthrie the Good.

Now he looks at the time and jumps to his feet, dodging Sirius's legs as he flails under his bed, looking for his missing robes. Peter does trip over Remus's shoes, which the taller boy takes with a sheepish smile.

"Where's the fire, Pete?" James asks, flicking through a Quidditch magazine as he smugly lords over the other boys scrambling to pack. James finished packing several days in advance and has clucked at them to do the same, and currently is rubbing it in their faces as they rush around to gather their belongings in time to catch the Hogwarts Express. Now he looks up curiously as Peter grabs the quills and heads to the door, wondering if he can catch Chance before she leaves the castle.

Peter pauses and looks down at his hand. "I forgot to return these to Maureen Chance when I borrowed them earlier, so I thought I'd do it now before I forget."

Sirius emerges from the black hole that is the space under his bed, dusty and cranky. "Who cares about a few quills? I bet she doesn't even remember letting you borrow them. Just keep them, Peter."

And it's not new or unusual, the casual cruelty Sirius wields unintentionally at times. Objectively he knows that Sirius didn't mean to imply that Peter wouldn't even register as someone of note in someone's mind, but it doesn't help the sting.

Remus frowns at Sirius. "Chance doesn't seem like the type to forget much of anything, Sirius. She might be looking for those quills." He looks at Peter and makes a shooing motion. "Just be sure to make it back soon, though I'm confident you'll find her and return before Sirius finds those dirty underwear of his."

Sirius swells up indignantly, and it's with a smile that Peter bounds down the stairs and out the Common Room.

Maureen escapes the third year girls' dormitory and sinks into one of the armchairs in the Common Room with a sigh of relief. Her dorm mates are in a state of utter panic as they leave the exams behind and realize that most of them had not even started to pack. It's a madhouse, and she's glad to be out of range of flying socks, robes, and brushes. Idly, she rubs the sore spot on her shoulder where Gillian accidentally hurled a textbook at her whilst aiming for her open trunk.

She's slipped into a lazy, content doze when someone approaches. A first year whose name she doesn't know lingers uncertainly, but upon seeing her awake he blurts, "Someone's here to see you."

Maureen blinks. She heads over to the entrance to the Ravenclaw Tower and is mildly surprised to find Peter Pettigrew on the other side of the door.

The boy thrusts his hand towards her. "Your quills," he says hastily. "Thank you for letting me borrow them earlier."

She takes them, bemused. "It was nothing," she replies. "Thank you for returning them; most people don't bother. I must have lost at least thirty quills this year alone."

Pettigrew shrugs and they stand in awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to do next. Eventually the boy coughs and points back the way he came, looking a bit embarrassed. "So I'll just - leave you to it. Er. Yes."

"Right," she nods. She watches him beat a hasty retreat and impulsively cups her mouth with one hand. "Have a good summer, Pettigrew!"

The Gryffindor stumbles and looks back at her. "Y-you too, Chance!"

And then he's gone, rounding a corner and vanishing from sight. Maureen lowers her hand and stares at it, wondering at the sudden impulse.

The thing is, Maureen is thirteen and thirty-five all at once. She's not keen on the details, it's been a long time, but she does know that she died and came back, only it wasn't to her former body, it was to that of a squalling infant. Maureen didn't think much of it at first, as her former life is hazy at best and her new family is the best. She grows up, squabbles with her sister, attends primary school like every other child in the country, and greets her eleventh birthday with only the excitement typical of a child waking up to expect presents and good food.

Except she got a bit more than that, specifically a stately woman in green robes with a letter written on parchment and addressed in a disturbingly accurate manner. (Miss Maureen Chance, The First Bedroom Left of the Stairs, 17 Airdale Street, Paddock Hill, Norfolk.) McGonagall then proceeded to explain that Maureen was a witch in the most literal sense of the word and, with parental approval, whisked the family off to Diagon Alley to go shopping for her school supplies.

It was bizarre.

Even stranger was the fact that Maureen recognized the professor's name and many other things. She remembered, vaguely a story that was tragic and uplifting, the story of a wizarding messiah. Maureen is a girl with considerable common sense, however, so she kept quiet on that front and enjoyed the experience for what it was.

And then came Hogwarts, and with it came several more names she recognized. Albus Dumbledore, obviously, as well as Severus Snape, Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew the traitor. Pettigrew the rat. Pettigrew the coward.

Maureen does nothing. She's still half convinced she's hallucinated everything, from the supposed memories of a distant former life and the fantastical tale of who is essentially wizarding Jesus. And besides, from what she's seen everyone looks perfectly happy, so why make a mess of things unnecessarily?

Except she's a curious little thing and she can't help paying attention. Thank God Potter and his crew are such attention whores, otherwise people would definitely have side-eyed her for the way her attention always drifted to the four boys. Lily Evans is much easier to explain away her attention, as the two girls are friends and study partners, much to the displeasure of the greasy-haired Snape.

So yes, she sometimes finds herself staring at the others, but oddly her attention strays to Pettigrew the most. What on earth convinced him to turn traitor, when he looks happiest with his friends? Why did he betray them? Why was he described as such a pathetic, weak little thing, less human and more rodent?

Because she sees him perform well enough in classes. He's not on the same level as James Potter and Sirius Black or even Remus Lupin, of course, but by now it's widely acknowledged that those three are downright genii. But Pettigrew can hold his own, and he's not magically or academically pathetic in any way, comfortably in the upper half of the population, she'd say. She's not close enough to any of the four boys to be really certain, but Pettigrew can be witty and creative and clever just as his friends are. Potter, Black, and Lupin did not befriend him out of simple pity, it's clear as day that they adore him as much as he adores them.

So why did this supposed betrayal happen? Betrayal that led to the death of one of his closest friends and incarcerated another? Why would Pettigrew grow up to be so abhorrent?

And, well. Regina and their parents always tell her that her curiosity will one day be the death of her. But the mystery of Peter Pettigrew is like an itch she can't scratch, and it's driving her mad because she wants to know. She wants to pick him apart and examine his mind and find a concrete explanation for why Peter Pettigrew grew up to be a traitor who was indirectly responsible for the fall of a Dark Lord and directly responsible for the rise of the same madman.

And a Ravenclaw in pursuit of answers, as everyone knows, is a sight to behold.

a/n: wow, look at that, a double update. you won't see this for like another ten years my friends.

but regarding peter pettigrew and maureen chance... nope. this is not a peter/oc story, no ships. or at least, none with the marauders and maureen. i might sneak in some maureen/oc scenes later on, who even knows at this point.

right now it's like 3am and why am i even up? actually? hope you enjoyed?

-beni