A Person so Small

Phillip Piper

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He had not felt this way in such a long time. Pippin was having a gloomy day, but it was surprising that these days did not happen more often to him. He had a right to feel like crawling into a hole and dying, if anyone did. But someone such as he could not live like that his entire life, and so Pippin was jolly and pleasant and pleased with anything and everything for the sake of keeping a good cheer. Today, however, was the exception. It had been years since such a depression had fallen on his shoulders, and today was market day, of all days. Pippin wheeled himself down the street, trying to look where he was going without his head bowed down and simply gave up. With a heavy jolt, he rolled past the gutter and onto the side of the road once more and continued on his way in slow moments.

Pippin sighed as he paused for a rest. He was nowhere near the hidden entrance to the Wizarding Markets, and he certainly wouldn’t get there by lunch time for one of those wonderful pies at the bakery. Suddenly there was a crack above him, and the heavens opened upon the people below.Typical England, thought Pip with a heavy sigh. It was pointless trying to move faster lest he lose control of the wheelchair, and he looked sadly at the running people and the multitude of umbrellas popping up in the muggle street. Now cold and sodden, Pippin bowed his head once more and kept going.
 
Peter had been walking with his father, holding his hand with a bright grin. He always loved spending time with his Daddy and since Christmas he seemed to be spending more time with his Daddy and Mommy together. But as they hurried along he caught sight of a boy rolling along. Rolling! He let his Daddy's hand go and with boyish excitement ran towards the boy, purposely stepping in the puddles so they splashed up onto the sides of his jeans.

Soon enough he caught the boy in the contraption and with wide eyes he asked, "What are you?" With anticipation he watched the boy's face, almost bouncing with eagerness and shaking with anxiety. He had never been so bold to ask someone something like that without Banana asking it for him.
 
The urge to laugh was almost overwhelming for Pippin. It was rare for anyone to approach the small boy in a wheelchair, as no-one liked to get in his way and somehow people thought he wanted to be left alone because of it. On the contrary, Pip loved company since he received none at home. He was being rained on and was nowhere near the markets yet, but he smiled at the even littler boy who had apparently ran to meet him. Considerately he slowed down his pace so that the child could walk alongside him, and Pippin smiled in his own impish manner and looked at the boy curiously.

"Why, I'm a boy of course," Pippin told him as he turned in his seat to look back. What the boy alone? He couldn't tell, but some way down the street he noticed a man hurrying to catch up to what must be his son, and Pip was satisfied. "I'm Pippin, and this is my transport. I can't walk by myself, you see." he told the boy kindly, who couldn't be more than five or six. There was something about Pippin's manner that calmed people, and perhaps this child might feel it too, for he look very nervous indeed.
 
Pete listened to the cyborg with slight confusion as he said he was a boy. "You sure?" he asked as he imagined his insides being made of all different types of metal and the skin around him able to peel off at the cyborg's wish. He walked beside the machine, forgetting that his Daddy got mad at him when ever he ran off, which seemed to be often enough. "Why can't you walk? Did science guy make accident?" he asked, not quite certain what transport meant so he went with his theory that Pippin stood for something that meant he was a machine.

"I'm Peter Lurken," said the blonde boy, finding himself a little bit calmed by the cyborg's kindness. Pete didn't really grasp the concept of not talking to strangers but he often didn't because of his fear of people, however Pippin seemed like a nice machine. "Can you eat?" he asked with a curious expression on his face as he tilted his head to the side slightly.
 
Pippin smiled into his hand for a moment, composing himself. What a dear, sweet child this was. He was quite sure that at this boy's age he would have been asking the same questions in his situation, and he couldn't help but oblige Peter. "Yes, I'm very sure. The scientist made me just like you, with a heart and hands and everything else! But he wasn't quite done yet, so I might wait a little while so that he can teach me to walk like you can." It didn't hurt to explain himself to the Peter like this, for everything he said was true, just spoken in a different way. "This chair has wheels for someone to push along if their legs won't do the walking. See?" he explained, and Pippin gripped the wheels carefully and pushed, rolling himself forward.

Pippin wanted to giggle, as it seemed that Peter still thought he was a machine. Truly he hadn't done much to remedy that, but how else could he have explained people's disabilities? Pip was only fourteen, and trusted that Peter's father would explain to him a little better when he was older. He tilted his head to one side a moment as he thought, wondering whether this boy was a wizard or not. For a child this young it was difficult to tell, but usually one could pick adult wizards out in a crowd if you knew what to look for.

"Yep, I love to eat! My favourite food is strawberry tart," smiled Pippin, noticing the stuffed toy the child had with him.
 
Peter giggled as Pippin said he was made by a scientist. "Not me!" he exclaimed, jabbing himself in the chest. "Daddy says Mommy made me and new baby," he said. The boy didn't fully understand that he was going to be a big brother all he knew was that his Mommy was sick a lot and Daddy was at home again. He watched as the cyborg rolled forward and his mouth fell open and his blue eyes glinted with boyish curiosity. "Woah," he said in an awe struck, hushed tone. "Where Daddy lives, machines don't work," he said with a shrug. "I try to bring game but it stopped. Would you stop?" he asked, still not knowing that being a wizard was supposed to be a secret to muggles or anyone that was suspected to be a muggle.

Pete turned around as he heard his Daddy's footsteps close behind him and grinned brightly. "Hi Daddy," he waved almost like an eager little puppy before turning back to Pippin. "I like chocolate frogs," he said and was about to say something about Bertie Bott's when his Death Eater father put a hand on the top of his head and said, "Let's not bore the boy about our favorite food's Peter." The blonde man gave the boy a look and as Peter nodded his head in understanding he grinned brightly.
 
“Ah, lucky you!” Pippin congratulated the boy. Well, now Peter wouldn’t believe him if he said that his parents had made him too, but hopefully it wasn’t too much of an obstacle to get around in this nice conversation. Pippin never spoke to little children, for most of the witches and wizards living around the market area were old. Antoinette was the first teen he had seen in months, and there was basically no-one around Peter’s age where he lived. Peter’s such a nice child, thought Pip, beaming to himself.

He paused curiously as Peter explained to him that machines did not work where he lived. That was similar to his own home and also to the wizarding markets down the street. He’d once seen a muggle teen sneaking out of the candy shop near the entrance alley of the markets, texting on her mobile but cursing when her screen went blank. Pippin smiled once more as the boy mentioned his like for chocolate frogs. That in conjunction with the comment about machines not working meant only one thing.

“Are you heading towards the markets or just on your way home?” he asked both Peter’s father and Peter at the same time. There were only one set of markets around here, and if his father did not pick up the insinuation towards the wizard area only then he’d just have to come right out with it. Pippin leaned down to Peter and added “This chair works with the energy in my arms. When I am tired, it works by magic.” If he was a muggle child than it was still a fairly appropriate thing to say, but it would mean a lot more to a wizard child.
 

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