Post by peter on May 20, 2012 18:34:14 GMT
peter michael pettigrew
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full name: Peter Michael Pettigrew
age: 16
year: sixth
birthday: October 17th, 1960
blood line: Pureblood
occupation: Student
former / house: Gryffindor
alias: Tina
gender: female
rp sample: Oh boy!
It was much too early to be awake.
Groggy, barely conscious, the somewhat plump Gryffindor let out a low groan, protesting the light pouring in from the window which, due to a unfortunate game of rock, paper, scissors, he was the most exposed to from his bed. In an attempt to get away from the light, he rolled onto his side, soon discovering that he was much closer to the edge of the bed than he would have liked. One heavy thud later, and Peter was finally feeling more awake.
Sitting himself up on the floor, the boy gave a large yawn, stretching his arms up above his head. Blinking, he looked around trying to find his position in the room. The floor was not where he wanted to be, but now he felt too awake to climb back into bed. Sadly, it felt like he had stayed too long in bed.
Like he had been sleeping for days, in fact.
So he gathered himself up, awkwardly dressing for the day. Of course, he was of the frame of mind that it was, in fact, Monday and put on his school robes in a rush to get to class. It was only when he got to the classroom, finding it completely empty, that he realized it was actually Sunday, and thus he couldn’t possibly be late for a class that wasn’t currently being held. With the realization that it was still the weekend, the young boy was prompted to go back to bed, but reluctantly decided against it, since it would be quite a lot of work to get undressed and back into his jammies again. Instead, he just went to get himself something from the Great Hall.
He was feeling hungry anyway.
When he set off down the hall, he was rather disgruntled, feeling like a complete fool to have thought the weekend had come to an end prematurely. What on earth had he been thinking? Not that reflecting on it now was going to change what had happened, nor would it get him in different clothing. Later he would go and change. Sure, he could attempt to alter his clothing with magic, but given his severe lack of talent in that department, he was rather sure he’d only end up removing all his clothing or something just as humiliating.
Into the Great Hall he went- only to find that he might not have gotten out of bed after all. Actually, he was very sure he was still dreaming. Why else would Severus Snape be sitting at the Gryffindor table?
How strange.
Slipping back out the way he had come, Peter hovered just in front of the Great Hall’s mighty entrance. Frowning, he brought a hand to his arm, giving it a light pinch. Nope, that didn’t seem enough to wake him up, though it sure hurt more than he thought it would. Rubbing his arm ruefully, the plump Gryffindor sighed. This was troubling. He was caught in some kind of very real dream world.
Or… something weird was going on and he just didn’t know what was happening. Both seemed equally likely.
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