𝓟eter looked at his parents in disgust, as he processed their words. He loved his parents, he quite did. But sometimes there were many things that they did that he would mildly disprove. This decision was were Iris and Brayden were to stay in Ferndale, and get this, while Peter and Marietta were dumped at his Aunt’s in Newport, when he and his best friends were finally reunited!!

Peter crossed his arms, looking pissed. He decided to shake it off, and do as his parents wanted him to do. “Fine. You better come by the end of the week.” He wasn’t gonna disobey, when one, he loved his Aunt Cherry, and two, he hadn’t visited her in years. He would just be upset that his parents were staying where his own best friends lived.

“Oh, of course, why wouldn’t we?” Iris looked a little uncomfortable as his mother approached him, and gave him a hug. Peter let her for a few seconds before pulling back. “What would we do without you? We love you so much, Peter.”

Well, I don’t know, Peter would shrug mentally, mocking his parents, Although, you can clearly make decisions without me and you can also send me to boarding school. That’s pretty much clear.

Brayden, his father, gave Peter a huge smile, and a cheesy thumbs-up. “We do, son. We really do.”

“Now, run off, and tell Marietta, would you? We have to speak with Amy.”

“Sure. I guess.”

***

Two days later, Peter found himself in a train on the way to Newport, squeezed into a small seat with his sister, Marietta, two suitcases, a Enchanted Backpack, and a book. Marietta was passed out, her small head on his shoulder, her cute little snores were audible as Peter couldn’t rest. He couldn’t shake what his parents said and what Brookline had looked like when she opened the door.

The Beauxbâtons boy glanced up as the train screeched to a stop, and everyone got up, herding into a impressively annoying crowd. Peter grabbed his baggage and Marietta’s suitcase, shook her awake, saying in a firm voice, “C‘mon, little sister. We’re here...in Newport. Let’s just get out of this stuffy train.” He grabbed his sibling’s arm, and pulled her through the crowd, navigating his way to reach the train doors, all the while, ignoring Marietta’s fussing.

She’s such a girl.

Once off the train, Peter and a sleepy Marietta hopped off the train, and despite the loud protests he was receiving from his sister, he still kept his hand firmly clamped on her wrist. He was so deathly scared to lose his only sibling.

“Peter...please... ” Marietta complained, “Please! I’m not that little anymore. It hurts! Plea--oh my Merlin!! Aunt Cherry!!!” Peter watched as his sister ran towards the young women with her dirty blonde hair up in a messy bun, her lipstick bright as fire, and her nose was tucked inside a black-and-white newspaper, probably from the 1900s.

“... Oh! Marietta! How’s my favorite niece?! Oh, I haven’t seen you in such a long time!! ” Aunt Cherry smiled that huge grin that Peter loved. She had gave Marietta a huge bear hug and spun her around as if Peter’s sister weighed less than a kilogram. Marietta just giggled as she was set down.

“I am your only niece!”

“Oh, I know!” Cherry just bopped Marietta on the nose before she turner to Peter. “And you, Peter? How do you feel?”

Peter only laughed. His green emerald eyes twinkling with humour as his Aunt Cherry glanced at him, placing her hands on her hips as she did her usual teasing.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re laughing at me!”

“No, of course I’m not! It’s just that, you and my own sister are hugging and laughing when I’m stuck here watching you lot, with a backpack, and two suitcases!”

Aunt Cherry put her hand over her mouth, where she was clearly stifling in a giggle. With a Welsh lilt, dripping with sarcasm, she uttered, “You poor thing.” Peter’s Auntie was always known as the sassy one.

***

It was after supper, and it had been a few hours since Cherry had drove back to her house with Peter and Marietta. Peter was sitting on the steps of his Aunt’s porch steps. He was thinking about how different it was to not be either at the three places he loved most. Ferndale, Beauxbatons, and France. He also thought it was strange about how Brookline looked when she opened the door. She was usually so happy and bubbly.

He sighed, and gazed out to Cherry’s large backyard. He heard the screen door creak open. It was Aunt Cherry, her lips pursed in a thin nervous line. “Peter? Everything all right?”

“I just miss home. My real home. And my best friends.”

“I get the best friend part...but what do you mean by ‘real home’?”

Peter looked confused. He would have though his mum would have told her own sister. “You mean Mum didn’t te!! you?

“Iris tell me what?”

“That we moved. To France. Just about two years ago. Perhaps more.”

Mum would have told her own sister, right?? Peter questioned, as he gave his Aunt Cherry time to think things through. Merlin, he was so lucky he wasn’t a dang girl who jumps to one topic to another and their brains just go haywire. He was so lucky.

“She...she didn’t tell me. Do you have any idea why?”

“Nope. No idea why. Don’t know why the hell she does half the things she does.”

“You-you wanna go for a walk in the woods?” Cherry gestured with her finger toward the woods. There was a circle of trees that grew around her property, and part of that circle, is a medium-sized forest that when they were younger and when they would visit their Aunt Cherry, Peter and Marietta would run and play games, they would play in the woods all day.

Peter’s eyes widened. He loved those woods. It also felt so peaceful and tranquil to be outside. “Yeah. Can we bring Marietta?”

***

Peter stood outside of the large cluster of trees, and inhaled the woodsy scene of creatures and trees. He was waiting for Marietta and Cherry, so they could take a little hike through the woods. Basically Aunt Cherry’s backyard but still a medium-sized forest.

Once his sister and aunt were out of the house and ready to enter the woods, Peter took a step, brushing his hand on a tree trunk as he went. Once in the canopy, he could only see the sunlight in patches, and he thought it was beautiful.

A worn path offered a way through the woods, and Peter remembered this trail from when he was younger. He heard birds and creatures chirping, the slight crunch from his boots stepping through the tree’s triangle, green leaves, he also heard the insane complains from his own sister.

“Please, Marietta, I know you don’t want mud on your shoes, but you used to love this place!” Peter turned back to his slowpoke of a sister.

“Keyword, used to.”

“He’s right, Marietta. You could at least stop complaining!” Aunt Cherry smiled at her neice, “But you need to stop complaining. No more hissy fits, and you might have some ice cream tonight.”

That did there cheer her up! Marietta stopped complaining, ANF actually helped her brother. Guess she actually did like the forest. Perhaps there was some friends of her whom she called role models.

“Guys, wait. Marietta, hold. Your. Tongue.” Peter uttered when he heard a concerning sound.

“What is it?”

Shush!! Peter thought angrily and ignored his sister. He cocked his head, and opened his ears. What he had been hearing was a scrabbling sound, and then he headed some scratching.

“Aunt Cherry,” He turned to his Aunt, “what do you suppose we do?”

Cherry held her hands in mock surrender. “You’re the expert, here. Go ahead and see what it is. I’ll stay with Marietta.”

Peter gratefully took the lead, going quicker and getting more excited by the second. He stopped for a second and cocked his ear for a sound. There! Over by a fallen tree, the sound was the loudest. He went over there to investigate, his footsteps slow, and his voice quiet. He didn’t want to scare whatever was here.

The Beauxbâtons boy looked around the dead tree and went to the side of it. The scrabbing turned louder, quicker and almost eager. Whatever it was, it heard Peter crunching through the leaves and decided that if it got louder, then it would be found.

Poor thing must be trapped. He knocked on the side of the tree, and it felt hollow. Peter couldn’t hear himself think as the scratching was louder and louder. He definitely in the right space. He tore away some of the bark, and saw a quite small bundle of fur. His heart clutched, and at the sight of him, the creature stood excitedly on toddering legs, it’s two tails beat in the air frantically. behind swaying just as fast. Oh! It’s a half-crup!

The half-crup licked Peter’s face, and zoomed to the right. “Hey, where do you think you’re going, little one? I gotta show you to my aunt and sister!” Peter called to the Jack Terrier. And once he thought the half-crup was gone, the puppy came by again, tails whipping the air mercilessly.

Peter placed two fingers in front of the pup’s nose, and let it sniff him. He petted the half-crup’s head, and rubbed it’s ears. Then the Beauxbâtons boy wrapped a arm around the Jack Terrier’s skinny middle, holding the pup. “You look as scrawny as a twig. Let’s get you some food.”

***

Peter sat at the kitchen table, with Cherry drinking a cup of tea, and Marietta was crossed-legged on the ground, her hands out, trying to pet the swift creature. They were all watching the active pup, sprinting around the room, her tails wagging. Aunt Cherry had figured out that the half-crup was a female, and that the pup was at average ten weeks old.

“This pup might be from the neighbors past the forest. Poor thing must have gotten confused and ended up in the part of the woods.”

Eyes never leaving the Jack Terrier, Peter nodded. “Can you go over there and ask them? If I can adopt the pup? I think I want to.”

“Well... okay. It doesn’t look like that dog would ever leave you, anyways.” Aunt Cherry smiled, her lipstick still bright. Every so often, the half-crup would zoom over to Peter, and Peter would hold out his hands. This time, instead of sniffing, the puppy licked his fingers. He laughed, and rubbed the pup’s ears.

“Peter? What’re are you going to name her?” Marietta had sat in the seat across from Peter, clearly bored of trying to catch the dog, but sounded genuinely curious.

The question had knocked Peter off guard, and he narrowed his brow. “I don’t know.” He answered truthfully.

Then it clicked.

“Carmel.”

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