Plundering for Pirate Books

Amelia merely smirked when Peter mentioned that she was being an enabler for his addiction to anything pirate. Although her mother would likely have had a heart attack on the spot if she heard the word ‘enabler’ and Amelia’s name mentioned anywhere in the same sentence, Amelia understood the context to which Peter was referring. She was enabling him to find and acquire more pirate things for his collection, but really, Amelia was not at all concerned about that. She had plenty of people that were enablers for her: the owners of the bookstore, the librarians at Hogwarts that told her every time a new book came in, the strangers that came to play chess with her in the park on Saturdays. All these people were enabling Amelia to continue to enjoy the activities that increased her contentment – and her solitude.

But Peter had acted in direct opposition to a solitude enabler when he had requested that he accompany Amelia to the book shop. Usually, Amelia came here alone, and there was not much threatening to break that cycle until she met Peter a few days ago. Peter had somehow injected himself into Amelia’s routine, which was no small feat considering how often Amelia went out of her way to do things by herself. As he squatted down on the floor beside her and began to read the many spines, a few of which were crumbling, Amelia looked down quizzically at him, as though the answer to just how he had managed to weasel his way into her social fortress so quickly might be written on the top of his head.

He’s not inside the fortress, Amelia defended as Peter took the book she was holding from her and sat down on the floor, his eyes sweeping the back cover, He is merely making a visit around the grounds. Then he is going to continue his quest elsewhere, never to be seen again.

Great. He speaks pirate, you speak medieval times inside your head. You’re both just bizarre enough to be seen together, Amelia subconscious added from the back of her mind, rolling its eyes at Amelia’s sudden lapse into 16th century language and subject matter.

Whatever, Amelia retorted mentally, returning both to the 21st century and to looking at the books that were at her eye level. This was not a section of the bookstore she had spent an overlarge amount of time in, so there were plenty of novels here that she had yet to read. The pirate theme had never stuck out to Amelia much more than any other fantasy genre, and most of the books here were non-fiction. There were a few historical tomes, but most of those seemed half water-logged and their binding was falling apart to the state where Amelia wasn’t sure any of even her best repair spells could make them look new again.

“Take your time,” Amelia responded when Peter mentioned that he wanted to browse a bit more before making his decision. He had mentioned he only had enough money to buy two or three books, which to Amelia was out of the ordinary; she never thought much about money, mostly because she never needed as much as she had. Her parents had always been well-off, and although she wasn’t spoiled, she never wanted for anything necessary. Amelia wasn’t very materialistic, though her mother would rather she was when it came time to buying fancy ball gowns or this season’s hottest fashions for parties or events hosted at her family’s home. But Amelia would never have had to think about how many books she could afford to buy – she just picked whatever she liked and brought them home with her, which was likely the reason her dormitory walls were lined with enough books that she would have to consider compaction spells soon if they were all going to continue to fit.

“Look at this one,” Amelia said after a few minutes has passed and she had worked her way down the aisle a bit from Peter, who was still sitting on the floor. She had pulled an oversized tome from the shelf, one that looked like the books she had seen ship captains use to mark shipping itineraries. The book was too large for her to hold and read simultaneously, so she moved to a table at the end of the aisle and set it down, making small swirls of dust rise at the edges of the book pages, though whether that came from the table or the book itself was anyone’s guess.

The cover was heavy leather, and when Amelia opened the book she found that the book was actually a captain’s log. On the left hand pages there was the slanting scrawl of what must have been the captain of a ship that was endorsed to carry sugar, but from what was written on the first few lines of the log, Amelia doubted that was the only purpose of the voyages of the… Deceitful Slave of Tortuga.

With a name like that, they’re not selling sugar, Amelia thought as she smiled a bit to herself, turning the page to reveal a map with a lot of dotted red lines and small black pictures. The drawings were sketched in with ink by hand, but there was no key to denote what each symbol meant. Squinting, Amelia could just make out a small black marking on what appeared to be an island off the coast of Australia.

“Hey Peter,” Amelia called over her shoulder, “Do you know what this means?” she asked, pointing a thin finger at the symbol, turning her head to the side to see if she could make it out better that way.

Peter scanned the book, fairly sure that after his embarrassing revelation he would not be able to read it with confidence. He closed it and stretched his long arm up, slipping it into the gap it had left once Amelia had handed it to him. His fingers danced across the spines of the books- though more lightly on some of them that looked as though a small tap might send the binding splitting at the seams- and tilted his head, brushing his bangs out of his hair as he read each title. He found a old looking volume and pulled it off the shelf, opening it to a random page and scanning it.

When was the last time he had been able to dabble in anything pirate-y without his friends scoffing at how crazy he was. Moreover, when had he been able to go on a quest for books? None of his 'popular' friends were much into reading or anything academic. The few of them that tried in school did well, but not out of ambition but expectation to be perfect at anything they tried because they were the cool kids. The others loftily ignored school. It seemed Peter was the only one with a full brain all of the time.

Now he could indulge in literary arts and in pursuing knowledge without anyone raising their eyebrows or asking why he would think of reading something for fun. The idea was foreign to them. But he was not surrounded by his friends. He was in London, in Diagon Alley, and he was with a British girl from Hogwarts, not his friends. And to tell the truth, he much preferred Amelia's presence over his friends.

Peter heard her mention one and he turned his head to see her hefting a huge book over to a table, setting it on the table. He glanced back down at the book, his eyes scurrying across the page to quickly read the last few sentences of the book, but he could not find anything that really jumped out of him to encourage him to actually pick the book.

Amelia called him over and he looked up again. He had become wrapped up in the book. He hopped up, brushing himself off and slipped the book back on the shelf. She was peering over the book and he walked over towards her, bending over to read it to, a thin finger pointing at where she was pointing. He cocked his head. "Hmm... Well I know zat eez a port-" he pointed out a square mark. "And zat eez a shipwreck-" he gestured out a dangerous looking scribble. "Hmmm... Zat must be ze site of a good trading port. Somewhere zey found gold or furs... Booty!" He laughed. "Zis eez amazing!"

Even from the new angle supplied by turning her head sideways, Amelia wasn’t any closer to understanding the markings in the book she was leaning over. It was likely foolish to have thought that a 30 degree change in perspective could take her from confusion to comprehension, but sometimes it was just how you looked at it. From this angle, however, the black squiggles she had been looking at to begin with looked like… well… black squiggles, and with her head cocked to the side, she probably looked equally silly.

Amelia normalized her neck posture when she heard Peter coming up behind her, moving over slightly to make room for him to look at what she was pointing to. He leaned over to get a closer look, and a second later, cocked his head to the side in the same way she had only a minute earlier. Amelia wanted to laugh aloud at the absurdity of both of them having the same mannerism when trying to figure out the symbols, but it seemed that Peter’s head rotation seemed to have gotten him somewhere, and before she could let out any of her entertainment, Peter was identifying some of the symbols in the book, pointing to each as he moved across the page.

He wasn’t kidding about being a pirate fanatic… Amelia thought to herself, looking between Peter and the page in front of them as he rattled off a few more identifications with expertise the Ravenclaw wouldn’t have expected from someone that lived half a century after the symbols themselves had been written. It was somewhat impressive that Peter could make the identifications so easily, or even that he knew them at all, but Amelia noted this only empirically, adding it to the list of things about Peter that she hadn’t been able to predict from their first meeting.

Peter was still looking at the book, describing what might have been traded at the port he indicated, but when he got to his last word – almost an exclamation, which was even more pronounced due to the fact that the shop was empty and quiet save for them – Amelia immediately looked up from the book and to Peter’s laughing face, taking a step away from him with a somewhat quizzical look on her face. Surely he had not just used the word “booty” in conversation?

He is infatuated with pirates. He’s a teenage boy. What part of this isn’t adding up for you? Amelia’s subconscious inquired sarcastically, though it had a point.

“Right…” Amelia replied uncertainly, hesitating to call Peter out on his use of the word ‘booty’, a term her mother would surely have cringed at even if it was used in reference to pirate loot rather than the more current… ahem… definition that implied a woman’s assets. He likely wouldn’t understand her reluctance to use the word, nor her surprise at having heard it used. She supposed that in general conversation with people of their age, it might not be all that unusual to hear the word ‘booty’, though she doubted it would be in reference to pirates if she heard it in the hallways of Hogwarts.

“I’m um… going to go look in the alchemy section,” Amelia informed Peter after an awkward few seconds in which she had suddenly grown uncomfortable. Although she had been modified slightly from her usual, stiff self this morning, she fell all too easily back into it after her overreaction to a simple word Peter had used. After a few second’s too long hesitation, Amelia gave a sort of half shrug whose meaning was muddled and she slipped down the closest isle, which didn’t even contain any alchemy books. She just needed to get away from Peter to compose herself so she could maybe – maybe – avoid making a complete fool of herself again before she took him back to Hogwarts.

Peter stared at her, looking at the strange expression on his face and he hitched up a quizzical, confused one on his own face. She excused herself to go check out to the Alchemy section and after a series of short, painfully awkward pauses, she hurried off, leaving him to stare after her with a confused and slightly hurt look, trying to figure out the problem.

It came to him and blood rushed into his face, tinging his cheeks a dark, flushed pink as the gangly yet oddly innocent boy finally caught up. In truth, 'booty' was not a common slang term he came across but as soon as his distracted mind caught up with what may have caused to make Amelia feel uncomfortable and he slowly crept his hand to his face, touching the scarlet cheeks that were flushed so vividly that he could feel the heat against his cold fingers.

Peter and his best friend Adam shared a small horde of characteristics that caused them to be very sympathetic to each other when dealing with girls. Both boys were charming and likeable, but were as experienced as a twelve year old. While it was true that Peter had had girlfriends before, they usually had not meant too much to the girl. Both boys invested more than they would like to admit, and both had tendencies of being so innocent it verged on clueless.

And here he was now.

He slowly closed the large book, glaring at it as though it had forced him to say the words that had made Amelia feel uncomfortable. He sighed and glanced after her, trying to figure what to do. Most of his friends would have encouraged him to pretend the awkward moment had never happened, but Peter knew it was too obvious to anyone who met her that Amelia was perceptive of these awkward pauses to know that they would not feel like they had deluded themselves to believe it had not.

He began to wander the shelves and he heard the noises of books shifting to indicate Amelia was on the other side of the shelf. He went over and pulled the classic push-the-books-aside-and-grin-awkwardly-at-the-girl-on-the-other-side because when it came down to it, he was a classic kind of guy. He smiled almost apologetically at her.

"You know..." Peter said. "The zings I like about pirates are ze zings I am not really good at. Unlimited bravery, increedible strength, cool yet razzer outdated terminology-" he blushed slightly "-and bazically being smooth and cool and interesting at all times of ze day." He half smiled. "I love pirates but I can not be as cool as zem. From now on I will not try to be." He grinned awkwardly, hoping this could account for an apology for making her feel weird without having to point it out.

Amelia felt her flight response kicking in even as she moved away from Peter into the isle, the shelves suddenly seeming too close together, like they were keeping her in when she wanted to run away. It was the reaction Amelia usually felt when her attempts at normal human interaction were brought to a deafening halt, and that seemed to always be the case with her. Although her mother had assured her repeatedly that she would get better with practice, Amelia had seen no evidece to support this claim. She had been trying to make steps to please her mother in this regard for years now, but no matter what she did, she always managed to misstep in just such a way that any progress that might have been made up until that point was negated.

Stupid, stupid, stupid… Amelia thought to herself, stopping in the middle of the aisle and leaning lightly against one of the bookshelves, careful not to put too much of her weight on it. Like everything else in this shop, the shelves were old, and the last thing she needed was to knock down a shelf of books and add to her embarrassment. Closing her eyes for a moment, Amelia tried to relax, dissuade herself from fleeing the bookstore and leaving Peter to find his own way back to Hogwarts. Of course, she would never really desert the Beauxbaton’s boy in a foreign place, but then again, her self-preservation instincts were strong…

Shaking this thought from her mind, Amelia opened her eyes again, and when she did, she saw Peter’s face looking out at her from between the books on the shelf opposite the one she was leaning on. He was smiling, as per usual, but this time he seemed more contrite, and for once, his words did not flow spontaneously and bounce happily off the walls; he seemed to be apologizing, though Amelia felt as though she was the one that had made things awkward in the first place.

Amelia found herself closing her eyes again, though only for a few seconds this time as Peter made his apology, obviously having realized what it was that had made Amelia scurry away. She was blushing too, though Peter had a crimson color of his own that would have rivaled herself, Amelia thought, if the heat in her cheeks was any indication. But despite his embarrassment, Peter had overcome the hurdle of speaking to the girl that was the source of his embarrassment, and this social grace was not missed on Amelia. She might not have any of her own, but she was not unaware of the gall it took to make the first move toward an apology. She did it very rarely, stubborn as she was, but even from those few times she knew the feeling of wanting to hold back or just walk away, but having to step forward anyway.

Sighing, Amelia pulled herself forward and off the bookshelf, walking down the aisle she had been in and turning the corner to stand at the end of the one Peter had been speaking from. She tried to find the right words for a few seconds, and a hand rose nervously to the back of her neck when she finally found her voice.

“You don’t have to try to be cool,” Amelia replied slowly, not looking at Peter but instead at the slightly warped floor boards of the shop, “I’ve seen you with your Beauxbatons classmates. You already are.”

It was a fact that was not missed on Amelia. Yes, when she met him at the quidditch pitch she had known nothing about him, but in the days that separated that initial meeting and this outing, Amelia had done a bit of observational research to try to learn more about Peter. And what she saw matched the description she had just given: he always sat with a gaggle of happy, beautiful people that other students stole glances at, wishing they could be a part of it. He had sat next to a particularly pretty blond girl just the other day, who seemed to giggle at just about every word he said – rather incessant in her giggling, if Amelia were to describe it, but since no one asked…

“So let’s just… forget this happened, shall we?” Amelia added, interrupting her own thoughts and attempting to curb any further awkwardness. She knew that the longer she thought about the different words she and Peter came from, the less logical sense it would make for her to be out with him today, and the stronger her ‘get-the-hell-out’ reflex would become. He belonged to a social, outgoing, people-centered world that Amelia could never imagine herself inhabiting. Not that it was important to think about it at all; they didn’t have to inhabit the same world to go to a bookstore together, and that was all they were doing, Amelia assured herself. It was best not to think about it and just go back to the books.

“So um… let’s see if we can’t find you a book you’ll like,” Amelia said as a way of returning to the business at hand, turning again to the shelf that held the pirate books, conveniently in the same isle in which Peter had been standing, “Considering your wide interest in pirate-related subjects and the wide selection here, I should think it would be perfectly possible to find you a match.”

Well, at least he was not alone in his embarrassment, but it made him sad to see that he had caused the flush in Amelia's cheeks. Peter had hoped his apology would erase any need to blush, any need to feel awkward and embarrassed, but Peter was not as good at dealing with people as he should be. He made people laugh, made people smile. He was lost to serious subject, because, in all honesty, his friends were not serious people in the least.

This must be the draw he felt to Amelia. She was so intense and focused, and it intrigued him to watch her focus on the task at hand. Sure, he loved his friends, but he was not so blind as to see that the greater amount of them were idiots. He and Adam stuck by them because they managed to make them laugh and it gave them the graces of being with people who liked to laugh. They were good people at heart, they just had not quite discovered the little bulb in their heads. He stuck with them because they were good-natured and they laughed. He did not stay to hear their opinions on Voltaire.

Amelia seemed to have noticed his choice of friends and he stared at her for a second, wanting to say something that could explain it all. That he was not like them, with their fashion fixations and constant flirting, twirling hair and laughing loudly because they were popular and they could. That he was a normal kid, who got nervous around pretty girls and who worried about looking stupid and wondered about his future. Who loved Quidditch and reading, but could not find a way to like them both. That had odd quirks to make up for the fact that he was surrounded by robots who acted the same, talked the same, laughed the same, good intentions or not.

But how do you sum that up in a quick sentence? In a short summary? In a way that is not sad and pathetic. Instead he bit his lip, staring at her. He knew his friends were strange to her, because he knew she preferred solitude and she must think he was just like them. She was at ease with herself, did not need to prove herself to anyone. And now he felt the need to be like her, but he had to prove himself to her first, it seemed. Finally, in a small voice, he said, “Actually, I try really, really 'ard. I just... don't really know why.”

He hoped she would somehow understand, but he did not know. If she wanted to, she would pursue it. If not, or if she had already passed her final judgments, she would let it slide. He could only hope he had not screwed up too badly. He was beginning to realize he cared a bit more about what she thought than he had when they had first met, and he knew what Adam would say about that. He ignored that and realized she was providing him an out to this awkward situation, offering to forget it had happened. He hoped she had a weaker memory than himself. He would be scorning himself over the situation for days. He nodded.

“Yes, I zink zat works.” He took a stab at a smile and she continued on, saying they still had to find a book. He gestured towards the large book that had caused the whole mess. “I zink it may be a bit out of my price range, being so rare, anyway.” He went and collected it, sadly putting it back on the shelf. What an addition it could have made. Maybe for Christmas, he could just ask his parents to send him money for it. He began scanning the shelf and reached out for one, scanning the back and putting it back. “I'm pickier zan I zought,” he said, grinning.

Amelia could tell that what she had said about Peter’s belonging to the ‘cool’ group from Beauxbaton’s had hit a nerve with him, because for once, he didn’t immediately react with an ear to ear grin or a pirate-themed comment. He was quiet, looking at her as though he were going to say something, and two or three times, Amelia believed he was going to speak, but instead his teeth stayed pressed down on his lower lip, his eyes focused on her. It was almost an uncomfortable type of stare he was giving her, as though he were reading her mind, as though the words he was looking for might be hidden there. Amelia would have looked away, but before she did, Peter spoke.

“Actually, I try really, really 'ard. I just... don't really know why.”

It was the last thing she would have expected him to say, and it took her a bit aback. She found herself staring too long at Peter, trying to figure out why he had said these words, but even after careful scrutiny, the only reason she could come up with was that he had truly meant them. It was the most honest thing Amelia could recall him having said since the two of them had accidentally run into each other, and also the most serious thing. It was a side of Peter she hadn’t seen before, and to be honest, it was slightly upsetting for Amelia to have her carefully crafted image of another person altered so quickly and irrevocably.

It doesn’t change anything… her subconscious reminded her, probing her back into the present as Peter consented to her ‘let’s just forget it’ proposal, Whether he understands his own motivations or not, he still belongs to a world that would never accept you. You wouldn’t like it there anyway. There are people there, and they giggle a lot.

Although Amelia could hardly argue with this logic, there was still a part of her that wanted to ask Peter to explain what he had meant, to give her some clue. She knew why she didn’t bother to try to fit in with her peers, but she had never understood what made others do it. It seemed like a lot of work for very little return, and it seemed that some part of Peter’s subconscious – that had just happened to show itself now – realized that, but he had moved on from it already, looking back at the shelves for another book, and Amelia let the moment to ask the question pass in silence.

Although she had been lost in thought, Amelia had not been oblivious enough to have missed Peter’s look at the book that was still sitting on the table at the end of the aisle. It was obvious he coveted the book, despite the minor trauma it had just caused the two of them, but he was probably right in believing it was out of his price range. As he pulled several books off the shelf and returned them, however, Amelia couldn’t help but allow her thoughts and eyes to be continually pulled back to the large book on the table, still sitting open.

“Maybe it’s on sale,” Amelia proposed, already knowing full well that something like that didn’t exactly warrant a bargain sticker, but the idea was already in her mind, and she walked over to the table where it was sitting, making a show of picking the book up to look at the price while simultaneously slipping her wand out of her jacket pocket. As she had suspected, the book was very expensive, three galleons, but after a flick of her wand and a whispered incantation, the price on the tag was lowered significantly to one sickle, two knuts. This was the price Peter would pay, but Amelia would be sure to make up the difference in the donations jar at the cash register. She would never cheat the Black Raven Bookstore out of their money; she had enough of that to spare.

“I think this one might be the one, actually,” Amelia said in what she hoped was a blasé manner, turning to face Peter with the book in her arms, “the price is actually quite reasonable, if you’re still interested.”

Amelia Lyons, are you actually doing something nice for someone else? What is this, sudden onset altruism? her subconscious asked in disbelief.

No. At the rate he picks books, we’ll be here until nightfall. I am just trying to get out of here quicker so I can get that potions essay done this afternoon. Amelia countered.

Of course you are…

I am.

Whatever you say.

Even in her head, the tone was smug, but Amelia brushed it off with a shake of her head, simultaneously moving a curtain of hair away from her face, which had thankfully maintained its neatly formulated composure and revealed none of her internal thought battle. Her subconscious was wrong anyway. She had plenty of money, so what was a few galleons toward a book for Peter? And she was doing it for herself in the long run, so it definitely didn't count as a gift.

“So what do you think? Is this the one?” Amelia asked, holding the oversized book out to Peter for another inspection.

Peter was not sure what had caused him to tell Amelia, who was practically a stranger, something that he had even let on around his friends. They thought that it was effortless for him, hanging out with them and acting like the chipper, cool guy he had managed to pull off. But he did not feel cool and fun-loving most of the time. He was really content to just go with what everyone else was doing as long as he had no problems against it, and somehow, he managed to do so with the pizzazz his friends naturally had.

But why had he told her this? This that he and Adam brushed on but never actually truly spoke about out and the open. Though to be fair, he had not exactly discussed it with Amelia. But it could not be clearer what he meant. He had revealed how self-conscious, awkward, normal, gawky, and unloveable he could feel like at times, just like all teenagers, except no one would ever expect fun-loving, pirate-obsessed Peter to be like a normal teenager with regular self esteem issues. Somehow, they thought him above that, and that was what made it difficult.

He did not know why he had said it, but he had said it, and though he was kicking himself, he could not honestly say he regretted saying it. He was not sure if he did, but he was sure he would be hitting himself on the forehead over it later. May as well regain his composure now, put his head down, and pretend that he had not said it. For now, it could work.

Amelia announced that it may be on sale and he raised his eyebrows a little hopelessly, as though he was very doubtful that would be true. But she walked over to it and announced that it was reasonably priced if he was interested. He knitted his eyebrows together and went over to investigate, looking at the tag. His face cleared and brightened and he said, "Eet is perfect!" He gently took it in his hands and stared down at it. "Yes, eet is the one."

He reached into his pocket and counted his money. Perfect! "And zat leaves enough for anuzzer book for my leettle sister. She is not picky in ze least. Anyzing fantasy or adventure zat 'as animals is 'er type of book. Do you know of any?" His expression softened when he thought of his little sister, so frail. He always went out of his way to make holidays special for her. They did not know how many she would be able to celebrate.

Peter’s brow was so tightly furrowed as he walked toward her that Amelia was seriously considering the possibility that it might get stuck that way, the way muggle parents claimed it would if you scrunched up your face for too long. Of course, she knew this was an impossibility, but the thought did cross her mind as Peter reached her and the book, his face returning to its normal grin-adorned state when he saw her modified version of the price tag. He took the book from her, looking down on it as if it were his firstborn child instead of a dusty old book about pirates.

It seems Peter really likes his gift, Amelia’s subconscious said, weaseling its way into her conscious thoughts again as she watched Peter reach for his money to find he had enough to buy the book of his dreams.

Oh shut up, Amelia countered, pushing her subconscious back where it belonged. Most days, her subconscious was a valuable source of reason and logic, a way to check herself when she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. But right now, it was just being annoying.

“Fantasy and adventure are somewhat of my specialty,” Amelia said with a small smile as Peter mentioned getting a book for his younger sister. He hadn’t mentioned before that he had any siblings, but then again, Amelia hadn’t either, so it wasn’t all that offsetting. Amelia did, however, add this piece of information to Peter’s file, another piece to the puzzle that was the Beauxbatons boy who was so very different from herself, and yet… she almost thought she could see something in him that she recognized.

“Right this way,” Amelia said, leading Peter down another isle that held even more tomes than the section on pirates. These were less old, less dusty from being read and used more often, and their covers had many bright colors, depicting scenes of faraway places, daring swordfights, and princes in disguise.

“Lies of Locke Lamora,” Amelia read aloud as she pulled the book by the same name off the shelf and fanned the pages with her thumb, letting them pass fleetingly as she felt the slight gust of wind blow toward her palm. It was one of Amelia’s favorite books, following a thief and master fraud through his story. It was a book about adventures Amelia would never have, freedom she would never realize. Years ago, Amelia had thought that graduating from Hogwarts would mean she would be an adult, free from under her mother’s thumb, able to make her own decisions, but the closer that day came, the more Amelia realized that graduation day would mark nothing except the fact that she had completed seven years of schooling. Her mother would still have the same expectations, the same pressures, and the same belief that she knew what was best for Amelia.

“If she’s looking for adventure, this is the one,” Amelia added, handing the book over to Peter as she swept thoughts of Antoinette form her mind. No matter what situation Amelia found herself in, it was hard to escape thoughts of her mother, what Antoinette would approve of, what she would balk at, and the comments she would make about Amelia’s behavior. It was like having a perpetual shadow with an incredibly critical eye and no filter.

Peter grinned when she said thy were her specialty and said in a light tone, "My lucky day zen, huh?" He chuckled softly and followed her, excited to see what they could find. He, of course, didn't mind reading them either, though he was much too excited for pouring over the pirate book to even consider getting himself another book right now.

Besides, he wanted to make sure that Olive received a book that was perfect for her. She loved to read seeing as it was not taxing, and he knew that she absolutely adored anything filled with intrigue, romance, adventure, excitement... All the elements of a classic good story. She was not hard to please, but Peter always tried really hard to go the extra mile. He was also planning on sending her some of the fabulous candy from Honeydukes.

Amelia pulled out a book and thumbed through it as Peter watched her, glancing at the book. She handed it over to him, ensuring that it was packed full of adventure. He turned it over and scanned the back, before turning it back over, and then turning through the pages himself. With every gesture, it was looking better, and it was in great shape. Amelia was right. This was the perfect book for Olive.

"Eet looks perfect!" he said, carefully turning it over to read the tag, seeing that the price was also pretty reasonable. "Zis is great. Olive, my seester, loves adventures. Probably because..." he trailed off, adding in his head Because she can't have any herself but he could not say that. What a terrible thing to say. Instead, he said in a slower, but happier voice, "Well I don't know why!" He chuckled.

Growing up, Olive had been his best friend. They had played together, ran around forging imaginary castles and dreaming of places they could go... But when she was ten she was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy it all changed. The disease made her weaker and weaker and she was losing muscle tissue and weight a lot faster than anyone wanted. She was only a year into Beauxbatons when it was obvious she was getting worse and they had to pull her out. Now she stayed at home, and she was never going to get better-

He forced these thoughts from his mind as his heart began to thump wildly over it. He loved his little sister and he hated when he had such grim thoughts about her condition. He told himself she would get better and forced himself to disconnect from that realm of thought, looking up at Amelia. "Anywho... I'll go pay for zese now." He turned and walked over to the counter, setting the books down and fishing out his money again.