||[Feb. 3rd, 2006|10:13 am]
Peter Pettigrew was chewing his quill.|
A rather entertaining pastime, closing your teeth around something you couldn't actually eat. You just had to keep chewing slowly and carefully, ignoring the lesson that the teacher was trying to teach. Just a steady movement of the jaws coupled with marvellously small hiccoughing noises every so often. He didn't particularly care that he was supposed to be listening, the chewing seemed far more interesting!
He chewed for a few moments longer and pondered over what had been happening. He was behind the others, and this time Remus couldn't do the work for him. A small smirk of greed passed over the small boy's round face. Silly old Remus never could help wanting to do his work for him sometimes.
He chewed some more, pressing his teeth on the quill more. With a start, Peter realised something.
He'd been chewing on the wrong end of the quill.
His mouth was full of dark ink. He tried to spit some out, messing the parchment in front of him. He raised his arm urgently and spluttered something that may have sounded similar to "Sir!"