AN: Told ya I'd update way sooner! Although consider this supersooner. Thank you so much for continued support and reviews - and questions! oh my. I could give answers, but I can't give definite answers when the plot is still very, very fluid. I can give you one, however, and that is a YES to Harry losing more age.
Wait and see, folks!
Disclaimer: Still J.K Rowlings.

Tumble through Time

Harry never did fall asleep that night.

Oh, he had desperately tried to sleep in the safe, private space of his four-poster bed, curtains closed tightly. He scrunched his eyes shut, tossed and turned and got tangled in bedsheets. No matter how many times he tried, his brain and didn't seem to comply. Instead, Harry spent the majority of the night squirming around restlessly, ignoring the mild pang of wishing for the easy company of Ron and 'Mione, all the while re-playing events or conversations he had with his parents within his head.

'If I hadn't said that!' or, 'maybe I should've said…?' scenarios consumed his mind, even when he attempted to direct his thoughts elsewhere. But, no. No matter what Harry did, his thoughts circled back to where they started and, by the time Tuesday's dreary, morning light slipped through a gap in his curtains, he realised he hadn't slept a wink.

Still, the time-displaced boy didn't know the exact time until an hour or so after noticing that sliver of dull light. By then, the light was a shade lighter and Harry could hear the shuffle of movement and groaned complaints from beyond his bed's closed curtains, hinting it was a start to a new school day. Only through the noise of hearing the older males wake up and shuffle to the bathroom did Harry assume it must've been around 7AM-ish – Remus seemed a stickler for routine, and he had woken them up in the same style yesterday.

'' – for Merlin's sake, keep quiet!''

''But where's my tie?''

''Shut up and move it, you plonker.''

Harry couldn't decipher who was saying what out of the snippets of conversation he overheard. Freshly woken-up young males all sounded the same – a low, grumbling drone. Still, a handful of thumps, loud shh's and the click of a door closing later, and Harry found the room blanketed with sudden silence. It was safe to assume that he had been left alone, which stung a little – until the shuffle of approaching footsteps told him otherwise.

Holding his breath, Harry was half-tempted to yank the bedcovers up and over his head to hide for some strange reason. He didn't, though, his bout of nerves being overridden by true, bone-tired exhaustion. The child remained tangled in a blend of his father's too-large dressing gown and bedcovers, barely having enough time to slip his glasses on over bloodshot eyes when the curtains of his bed were pulled wide open.

The burst of light hurt his tired eyes, leaving Harry to squint at the lone intruder.

'''ood 'ornin', 'ongs'et!''

Sirius greeted him with nonsensical, garbed words; courtesy of the toothbrush half-hanging from the older male's mouth. The older male looked in the midst of getting ready, clad only in his rumpled uniform, minus blazer and robes, with his hair damp and tie askew. Behind the spittle and minty foam was a lopsided grin, and Harry offered a tentative smile in return, unable to find him truly angry at Sirius.

Holding up his toothbrush, Sirius said more cheerful nonsense. ''Uh – on 'ec!''

Blinking, Harry didn't dare decipher what had been said by the Black as the male in question swiftly darted off towards the bathroom. He barely heard the distant sound of Sirius gargling and spitting when he reappeared, trotting up to Harry's bed, wiping at his mouth. Almost as if he knew what Harry was thinking, Sirius plopped down on the bed beside him, brightly repeating his previous words.

''I said, 'good morning, Prongslet!''' Sirius beamed – albeit momentarily, his grin dimming into something less energetic and softer. ''Not that it looks like you had a good sleep, huh?''

Maybe it was his overtired state, or the fact talking had caused such a mess before, but Harry could only offer a lazy shrug at the comment. Sirius didn't seem to mind despite the way his brows, briefly, knitted together. Before Harry could focus on the expression, it was gone; Sirius rolled across the mattress with a flourish, jostling Harry playfully and bumping shoulders before rolling onto his side, propping himself up with one elbow.

''That's okay, kiddo,'' Sirius began, tone strangely quiet. ''Prongs and his Lily flower said Pomfrey wanted you to take the next day easy anyway, so you can have a lie-in while we go to classes. Well, maybe not. I wasn't supposed to pester you, Remus and James said to leave you to sleep until they got back…'' he shook his head at the ignored suggestion. ''Don't matter, you can snooze while we go have double potions with Sluggie this mornin', and you've already met him last Friday. You won't be missin' out much, that's for sure and…''

The words continued to wash over Harry's head, oddly pacifying and friendly. Sirius' casual talk of everyone's Tuesday schedule mingled with his own antidotes wasn't information Harry's brain absorbed. At least, not wholly. If anything, the ten-year-old found Sirius' yammering the perfect remedy to silencing the worrisome thoughts that had kept him up all night and continued to circle his brain.

It was due to this, during Sirius' continued rambling and catching a snippet of something trivial about Professor Beery, that Harry must've closed his eyes. He didn't know he had drifted off a little, let alone closed his eyes, until he felt nimble fingers pluck his glasses from his face. Opening is eyes was futile though, his eyelids weighing heavily and mind blissfully empty as Sirius talked, and talked, and talked…

Five minutes or so felt like an hour; the ache blooming behind Harry's tried, gritty eyes dissolved enough that he wasn't angry when Sirius poked his cheek.

''Hey, HarBear…'' Sirius murmured. ''Harry – '' another prod accompanied his cheery words. ''Psst. Harry, Harry-Bean…''

Peeling his eyes back open gifted Harry the blurry view of Sirius' blank face. He frowned, not liking the fact he couldn't see any clear details in the older male's expression. Harry squinted, a bid to see better and wonder where his glasses had been placed, when Sirius playfully tapped Harry's nose with the item. He went to snatch them back, only to fail due to the sleeves of James' dressing gown getting in the way as Sirius swept them away from his attempted grab.

''Oi, Harry,'' Sirius said, again. ''Mate?''

Clearly, Harry thought sluggishly, Sirius wasn't going to let him stay silent.

''Yes?'' Harry replied with a crackle, throat dry.

He didn't need his glasses to see Sirius' wide, triumphant grin. ''Good to have y'talking, HarBear.''

''I didn't stop in the first place,'' Harry mumbled, tiredly scrubbing at his face.

''Uh-huh, whatever you say, kid,'' the larger Gryffindor drawled.

A grumbling, cubbish noise exited Harry's throat. It was neither a protest nor agreement. Still, the young lad gave a slight stretch, trying reinvigorate his exhausted mind and body. He had been sleepy and content last night when he let things slip, and he didn't want a repeat performance – especially when Sirius' face was somewhat unreadable due to his glasses-less state.

Harry could just make out the slight furrow above the older boy's grey eyes and downward turn of his lips. However, it was hard to read if Sirius of angry or just thinking super hard. It had to be the latter though, as Sirius had flopped flat on his back, his large hands fiddling with Harry's swiped spectacles.

''Hey, so…'' Sirius paused to sigh, voice heavy. ''I'm sorry.''

Wiggling in his tangled cocoon, Harry rolled over onto his side, mimicking Sirius' previous posture with far less grace. Face half-smooshed against his pillow, he scooted even closer to the Quidditch Captain until his nose accidentally bumped against Sirius' muscled bicep. Silence stretched between them, save the light tapping of metal meeting metal as the arms of his glasses continued to be flicked open and closed by Sirius' nervous hands.

Huh. Harry didn't expect this. A 'sorry' over something that wasn't really Sirius' fault. After all, now that Harry had a head clear of upset, he held no anger towards the Black. Even if Sirius had kinda, sorta…

''Tricked me,'' Harry huffed to himself.

Sirius seemed to twizzle back onto his side, facing Harry, in such a heavy rush it made the bed bounce. Harry wrinkled his nose, narrowly missing a flailing arm accidentally hitting him in the process, and reared his head back a touch or two. His tilted position made it easier to see Sirius' creased features, and Harry felt himself wince. He didn't want to make Sirius sad…well, sadder.

''I-It's okay, you didn't,'' Harry hastily amended. ''Not really.''

A bitter sounding bark of laughter from followed suit. ''Yeah, kiddo. I did,'' Sirius said, sounding way too sincere. ''I didn't really think ahead, I just wanted to know more 'bout you. I didn't mean to upset y'though. Honest.''

Mulling over what was said was unnecessary for Harry. Sirius was, to be frank, being serious. For the short time Harry had met the older male, never once did he think he'd see or hear him being completely earnest.

''S'kay,'' Harry shrugged. Blindly, he patted the older Gryffindor on the chest, albeit somewhat awkwardly. At least that made Sirius snuffle out a laugh, and Harry felt far, far better than he had since the approach of dawn.

''Merlin, you are worse at comfort than Moony is!'' Sirius exclaimed with a throaty chuckle. He wormed an arm under Harry's head, pulling him close for a rough hug. ''Next you'll be offering me chocolate,'' Sirius snorted into messy, raven locks. '' Not that you should be makin' me feel better. I'm the one that fuc – er – messed shit up.''

Unable to fend off the contagious laughter that Sirius produced, Harry followed suit with a soft snicker. ''You still swore.''

''Ah, hush, HarBear!''

A light shove had him dislodged from Sirius' hug and a set of glasses being pressed into his sweaty palm. Naturally, Harry shoved his glasses upon his face and caught a clear view of Sirius' face. The teenager's eyes looked suspiciously shiny, but not enough to have shed tears. Silly Sirius, Harry wanted to say. It was obvious the older male must've felt bad if he looked so overly relieved right now…

''What?'' Sirius sniffed, and Harry smiled.

''Nothin','' he said. Feeling a tad braver and, strangely enough, stronger-willed, Harry added, ''Next time you wanna know stuff, just…ask. And if I wanna answer, I will.''

Harry felt uneasy at the glimmer of curiosity that entered those previously somber, grey eyes. It was obvious Sirius had a bombardment of questions to ask, something Harry didn't want right now. Yet, just as he watched Sirius' mouth open to deliver a presumed question, the dormitory door swung open and three, familiar faces entered the bedroom.

''Sirius, what happened to leaving Harry to sleep?!''

Remus' scolding tone cut through the air, and James shared the werewolf's sentiment.

James was pretty sure he and Remus had warned Sirius about keeping quiet and leaving Harry be. Yet, there the Black was, flat on his back beside Harry in the little lad's bed, grinning in their direction. Typical Sirius, always ignoring what is asked of him unless it is life or death situation. James would've loved to cast a Jinx upon the Quidditch Captain, for a good laugh and mild telling off, but he couldn't – not with his hands occupied with a tray of breakfast goodies.

''Oh, what's that mongrel done now?'' Lily's voice emitted from behind James' back.

''I've done nothin'!'' Sirius shot back, amused. ''HarBear and I were having a heart-to-heart, actually.''

''A likely story,'' Lily piped up, stepping forth.

Blessed with quick reactions, James managed to side step out of his girlfriend's way as she burst past the threshold, all the while not dropping the collected contents of his tray. The same couldn't be said for Remus and the shaky, clinking wobble that followed as he lifted his own collection of drinks out of Lily's path. James grinned; partly at Remus' near collision and the red-head's obliviousness in a bid to reach their young charge.

She'd been worried since last night – they both had. So much so that they had stayed together in the common room, chatting and cuddling, until the early hours of the morning. Exhausted as they may be, it didn't seem to reflect upon Lily's liveliness as she stormed towards Harry and Sirius. James felt a chuckle creeping up his throat upon witnessing the latter male getting flicked between the eyes by Lily, her telling-off far more effective than Remus'.

''If you've been pestering him, Black, I'll – ''

Harry sat up, hair more wild than usual and exhaustion evident, interrupting Lily with a cheerfully soft, ''Mornin'.''

That, it seemed, worked wondered in derailing the Head girl. James half-listened to Lily's swift diversion of conversation, focusing on exchanging pleasantries with Harry. Vaguely aware of his girlfriend's cautious coddling of the youngest in the room, James caught Remus' eye and inclined his head; hinting to get a move on. After all, they only had an hour before they needed to attend their first lesson of the morning.

'' – he didn't wake me up,'' Harry was saying. ''Honest.''

Sirius sounded far too smug. ''Told you, Red!''

''Well,'' Lily conceded, ''If Harry says so…''

''I'm pretty sure you gotta sleep to be woken up anyway,'' James stated, looking at his green-eyed Mini-me. ''Am I, right, kiddo?''

Harry ducked his head though, avoiding the observation of clearly not having slept a wink. Nevertheless, James let it slide, and dropped himself down on the other side of the bed, wedging Harry between himself and Sirius. Remus slid onto the end of the mattress, opposite Sirius, while Lily scooted alongside the werewolf to be facing James. The two trays filled to the brim of a choice of breakfast drinks and foodstuffs placed in the center of the circle their bodies made.

Empty goblets and teacups had yet to be filled, the icy pitcher of pumpkin juice and steamy, hot pot of tea waiting to be chosen. Lily dove in first, quickly dishing out napkins and plates to each of them while Remus began to pour drinks. James pretended to not notice the stupidly adorable way Harry was rendered wide-eyed and openly enraptured under Lily's extra attention. All she did was tuck a napkin in the front of Harry's pyjama top and place two buttery crumpets on his plate, yet the kid acted like she had offered him the world.

''Breakfast 'n' bed!'' Sirius crowed joyfully. ''I could get used to this!''

''Is that why you suggested this?'' Remus tutted, taking a sip of sugar-loaded tea.

James nodded, grabbing a slice of toast. ''Yeah, Padfoot. Thought this was for Harry?''

Watching Sirius grumble into a bowl of honey-drizzled porridge, mild embarrassment evident, certainly had James grinning. Particularly when Harry promptly swung his head towards Sirius, chirping a ''thank you'' that had the Black's face looking a touch pink.

''Aw, I never thought I'd see the day Sirius was actually sweet,'' Lily teased.

Sirius promptly spat out his next spoonful with a squawk. ''I'm always sweet, thank-you-very-much!''

''Of course,'' Remus said drily.

Harry giggled at the banter between bites of food, and James shared a content look with his girlfriend as conversation continued to flow. This was good, even if poor Wormy was missing out, stuck in the infirmary with Pomfrey. Besides, last night had been…hard. He'd thought Lily would dump him for sure after his blow-up. But, no - she continued to surprise him.

Gosh, James sighed with inward bliss. He loved Lily Evans…

Even if she did prefer marmalade to strawberry jam, James noted. How he had missed that after years of silent pining, he'd never know. After all, he knew many other little things about her. Like, how Lily had to spread butter to right to the edge of her toast, or how she'd down pumpkin juice after eating only to spend as long as possible nursing her tea. Oh, and upon tea, she had a preference for no sugar and only the tiniest of dashes of milk –

'' – you're all so nosey,'' Sirius' voice cut through the fog of Lily-thoughts. ''Harry and I simply had a chat between grown, manly wizards!''

Lily looked horrified. ''Oh, God, no. You didn't – I mean – he's ten, Sirius!''

''Not like that!'' Sirius defended himself, drowning out Harry's quiet correction of, ''I still feel eleven, y'know'.''

''Then what did you two talk about?'' James joined in, playfully ruffling the kid's untameable hair.

A balled-up, jam smeared napkin hit James in the face, courtesy of a certain dog Animagus. ''None y'business, Prongs!''

Harry, however, answered plainly. ''Sirius was sayin' sorry.''

''Ah, dammit.'' Sirius slapped a palm on his own face. ''There goes my reputation!''

''You have a reputation as a womanizer, not being a genuine nice bloke,'' Remus joked.

''Lies and slander!'' the Black rebuked, kicking out a leg at Remus. ''Get out my sight, Moony!''

A light tussle followed, only stopped upon drinks narrowly being spilled. Lily, it seemed, took the moment the pat their young charge's pyjama-clad knobbly knee.

''Well,'' she began hesitantly, ''I'm glad Sirius apologized. We were all rather worried after last night.''

Visibly emboldened, the kid softly added, '' It wasn't Sirius' fault, though. He just asked a question and I – uh – it's just…yeah.''

''It's fine, kiddo,'' James said, unable to stop himself from slinging an arm over small boy's hunched shoulders. ''Don't worry.''

''B'sides,'' Sirius stated, ''Harry said we can ask whatever we want, but he'll answer only if he wants to.'' He slurped some juice, before adding, ''Gotta admit, I wanna know what earned you a weekend in a cupboard. ''

''Merlin,'' Remus hissed, ''When will you bloody learn to think before you speak?''

James cringed, silently agreeing with the werewolf. For all that Sirius Black could be relatively thoughtful and kind, he could also come across as total jackass. Luckily enough, Harry picked up the sudden awkward tension that followed Sirius' dangerous curiosity, quickly offering a floundering interjection. The kid just seemed to be so painfully aware of the mood of those around him, and James refused to dissect how that could've been the result of tiptoeing around angry relatives.

''No, um – '' Harry paused only to let out a long exhale. '' – it's okay. Really. I did say that.''

''Yeah?'' James couldn't help to check, rubbing a bony shoulder.

The ten-year-old's head bobbed. ''Y-Yeah. It's not – uh – that much of a big deal. My Aunt…''

''Petunia, right?'' Lily enquired gently, blatantly curious.

Harry startled a little at the name they had overheard the other night and – Ah, crap. James slid his hand off Harry's shoulder to rub anxiously at the back of his own neck. He knew it was too good to be true to think she'd stop focusing on that name. Last night-turned-early-morning, during their chat, Lily had begun a tirade surrounding a theory that anyone called Petunia must've been natural gits.

James knew Lily's older sister had the same name, as rare as it might be. Yet, from what he'd heard about the red-head's nasty sibling, and hints from Harry's home life, it was safe to say Lily's theory was probably right. From what James could recall, Harry might've been home-schooled, but the boy had said how his guardians had not been a fan of magic – which was essentially the same as his girlfriend's own Petunia.

Breaking the brief silence, James didn't want to push, but he did coax. ''Lils has a sister with the same name,'' he started, opting to blank Harry's unhinged jaw and panicky eyes. ''She's awful, she'd probably be best mates with your Aunt, too. Not to mention she's a total minger – ''

''Potter!'' Lily cut him off with a shriek.

''Well it's true. Even you said she looks like your Great Aunt-whatever-'er-name and not like you or your parents, '' James defended himself, beyond bemused. Still, he switched his attention back to Harry, adding, ''I've seen some Muggle photographs of her, too. I'm unsure if she has a horse-face or if her face looks like the backend of a horse!''

A surprised bark of laughter left Harry's mouth.

Grinning, James counted that laugh at an accomplishment. ''It's gotta be in the name, am I right?''

''Def…Definitely!'' the boy uttered, looking a tad bewildered and giddy. However, that didn't halt Harry from opening up further. After a few, jittery false starts, the kid finally addressed the issue Sirius had brought up. ''…what I said, um. Last night. It isn't as bad as it sounds. Aunt P'tunia, she was on one 'cos I screwed something up during a dinner with Uncle's boss, and I got in the way of her whackin' me one with the frying pan.''

The food within James stomach suddenly turned sour and felt uncomfortably heavy. He caught sight of Lily opening her mouth, ready to intervene and ease Harry from getting upset. Yet, before she or anyone else could, the boy ploughed on with an awkward yet stubborn bravery that was both heartbreaking and admiring to witness.

''I was, like, grounded – I guess.'' Harry didn't sound sad, simply detached as he spoke, half-focused on swirling a spoon around his half-eaten bowl of cereal. ''The cupboard s'just my bedroom, that's all. ''

''Well,'' Sirius sniped in, ''that's a bunch of bullshit.''

Harry flinched, and James glared at his best mate's bluntness.

Damn. Sirius was like James' brother and, very rarely, did James truly wish to do harm to the older boy. Only once that had happened, and that had been the near-lethal 'prank' Sirius had planned by telling Snape how to enter the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack where Remus had been a bloodthirsty Moony. Like back then, James was half-tempted to take a swing at the Black to knock some sense into him.

Could Padfoot really be that dense right now? Didn't he know? Couldn't Sirius notice that, aside from sounding like a complete dick, his own anger towards Harry's relatives was bleeding through into his words, leaving the kid arm unable to differentiate who Sirius was truly angry with?

Thankfully, Remus was there to set things straight before James even so much as curled his hand into a fist. Their dear werewolf lent forward with an overly soft yet empathetic smile gracing his features as he tried to catch Harry's eyes.

''Sirius doesn't mean to be a plonker, Harry,'' Remus explained. ''He just doesn't want you to – hum – gloss over your treatment at home to us. A cupboard is a cupboard, yes?''

''Unless it's a huge cupboard,'' Sirius sounded hopeful and apologetic in one go. ''Like, the size of our dorm's bathroom huge.''

''I don't really take up much space,'' Harry admitted. ''It was big enough for me…'' he turned those big, green eyes upon James. ''Can we stop talkin' about this, now?''

''Yeah, kiddo, yeah…'' James was quick to agree. He always thought he was impervious to Lily's eyes, but maybe it was just green eyes in general. Either way, James couldn't get any further words in as his equally green-eyed girl spoke up, eager to remind the child of one key thing.

''And if you want to talk, we're all here, okay?''

Harry hummed in acknowledgement.

''Now, on another more pressing topic,'' Sirius began, face unreadable.

Oh, no. James felt his gut twist, it looked like the Black didn't know when to quit…

Sirius broke out into a cheeky grin. ''Mr. Moony, Mr. Prongs and Lily-kins, do we have time for a game of explodin' snap with HarBear before class?''

Relief entered James' system so quickly that he huffed out a laugh. ''I think we do, Mr. Padfoot.''

On Tuesdays, Peter Pettigrew's day consisted of a morning double session of Divination while his friends had potions, and then he'd have an entire afternoon of Herbology with said friends. This first Tuesday into his school year didn't happen, though. After a late night of spells and potions, Madam Pomfrey had given him the day off for bedrest in the infirmary.

Peter didn't know if this was a blessing. As much as he enjoyed burrowing in bedsheets and sleeping on-and-off as opposed to being stuck in classes, he didn't enjoy the prospect of 'missing out'. There was nothing worse than sticking out like a sore thumb, and that always tended to happen if Peter wasn't present.

There was nothing worse, the Rat Animagus decided, than not understanding what had Sirius sniggering. Or, Remus so bright-eyed, and James so joyous.

It was bad enough not sharing all his classes with his friends anymore, but entirely another to be missing out on certain events or inside jokes. Maybe even more so ego-damaging upon noting how a kid, Harry Porter, was able to attend seventh year potions when Peter, due to grades, couldn't.

It was downright infuriating – but not enough to spoil his current good mood.

After all, Peter had been pleased to discover his trio of friends at his bedside a good two hours before morning classes began. They had snuck in the infirmary, like old times, to check on him and thoughtfully deliver a bacon sandwich that had been the best food Peter had all day. Pomfrey had been a stickler with bland, boring foods…it was just a shame he didn't see them at lunch.

'Pomfrey must've kicked them out,' Peter decided. Not that is truly mattered now, any way: the Mediwitch had set him free sooner than expected. Peter had a little over half an hour before his friends and Lily finished their last class. He was more focused on what he'd have for dinner than offering a wave or Hello to the few familiar Gryffindor's that occupied the common room.

That didn't mean Peter didn't miss two second years poorly pointing and giggling at him. Clearly, rumours of being spelled ram-horns and bleating like said beast had travelled. He shot the two girls a scowl, happy to see them hide behind their textbooks, before he clambered the staircase that led to the dorms.

Peter was already shucking off his robe and blazer before opening the door to the Marauder's dorm. He expected to be greeted by the same, comforting disarray that had dominated any dorm room the Marauders had been placed in. The beds would've been made by house elves, but strewn books, knickknacks, and the odd item of clothing tossed aside would've cluttered the floors or trunks. At least, it had been for the previous six years of attending Hogwarts and having Remus, Sirius and James as his roommates.

Now, however, upon opening the door to his shared bedroom, Peter briefly thought he had got the wrong room. It was clean and tidy and looked very Pre-Marauders. Okay, maybe not overly neat as it was at the start of each term, he could spot the lived-in details; be it in the worn slippers by the bathroom door, or the 3ft tower of tomes tucked between one bed's night stand and a parchment-littered dresser. An apology was on Peter's lips as he nervously folded his robe and blazer over one arm, his eyes not quite looking at the room's lone occupant as he stepped back and –

''Peter?''

The young voice was one that had started to sound familiar to Peter's ears. It was Porter – or, Harry, as the kid liked to be called. Peter found himself standing stock still, blue eyes widening as he stared, a tad dumbfounded, at the room before properly looking at the boy he'd thought a stranger.

''You look a lot better,'' Harry chirped. ''Good t'have you back!''

It was difficult to find annoyance when the child sounded so genuinely pleased at his reappearance. The boy was beaming from his spot in the center of the room, huddled in a crimson-gold bedspread like a nest, several items dotted around him upon the circular rug he occupied. Peter squashed down the flare of irritation at how comfortable Harry was despite the short time period and guest-like status. Instead, the rat Animagus offered the kid a small smile and stepped into the uncluttered bedroom, tossing his robe and blazer onto the end of his own bed.

''Y-Yeah, I'm fine now,'' Peter mumbled, unlacing his shoes. ''I thought I got the wrong bedroom,'' he admitted, refusing to feel embarrassed. ''It's more organized chaos now than...uh, how it usually is.''

''Mimsy visited, that's why,'' Harry happily supplied.

Frowning, Peter had no clue that was. Had the kid developed an imaginary friend since dropping in age?

''She's a house elf,'' the boy explained. ''I met her last night when I had some hot chocolate. They usually stay hidden when cleaning, but I told her to visit, so she came to say hi…''

''Oh.'' Peter blinked. After dropping him off at the infirmary they all had hot chocolate in the kitchens? Like a celebratory gig. That…stung.

''Roker, that's her friend, he usually cleans the male dorms with some other elves. Mimsy didn't say it, but I think Roker gets annoyed at constantly messy rooms so he usually tends to leave 'em.''

Half-listening, Peter gave a nod and grunt as Harry yammered on. At least now he knew why the room looked decent for a change: Mimsy probably had a hand in that act. Either way, Peter was certain it wouldn't take long for things to pile up again; house elves tended to dodge the Marauders school materials and personal clutter in favour of making beds, dusting, and replenishing towels.

''…and, at lunchtime, James got a parcel from his parents.''

Peter's head snapped up at that. ''What did he get?''

Harry abandoned his book, narrowly dropping the heavy tome upon Lily's cat, Pip, that Peter had previously overlooked. The black and white furball was half-hidden in the blanketed nest that Harry occupied, save the creature's tail. It was the furry appendage that almost got hit had it not been for the animal's quick reaction. Harry, however, was oblivious in his cheery fervour to grab a hold of a small box, completely disregarding the cat's rumbling displeasure as a lack of attention.

The kid idly rubbed the velvety, triangle ear of the feline with one hand while using the other to hold out the parcel that was from Mr. and Mrs Potter. Peter quickly pattered over to Porter, plonking himself down and snagging the box. As expected, a mixture of homemade goodies greeted Peter, and he found himself smiling widely while inhaling the sugary aroma that only Euphemia Potter could concoct.

''Clotted-cream fudge, chunks of nougat, and treacle fudge,'' Harry pointed out.

Not that Peter needed Porter to do so; he already knew what was what. He'd been privy to seeing James receiving these parcels since first year, and lucky enough to be given samples. The Head boy had always been a tad stingy with his mother's goodies, as opposed to everything else. James tended to savour the delicious treats crafted by hand, and Peter could remember the sulky fall-out James had with he and Sirius in second year when they'd thoughtlessly stuffed their faces with such treats.

To think that the very same boy, albeit not quiet five years older, had left this near stranger with his usually well-guarded gifts was beyond baffling. At least, it was for Peter. He eyed the still heaping collection of sweets, wondering if the kid had tried any at all, before directing his attention on Harry. Peter refused to squint suspiciously at the tiny, dark-haired boy and contemplate what was so special about Harry Porter that the others continued to let their defences down and pamper.

''The treacle fudge is my favourite, I think,'' Harry chittered.

Peter swiped a handful of nougat pieces and stuffed them into his mouth. ''Tha's Prongs' favourite, too,'' he chewed out. ''You seem to 'ave a lotta things in common.''

''Y'think so, Pete?'' Harry sounded…way too happy at that.

Peter shrugged, stiffly. He really hadn't meant that to sound like a compliment. Not when he knew something wasn't quite right with Porter. The rat Animagus would be keeping a closer eye on the kid, that was for sure.