Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. If it did, it would not be up on this site.

Author's Note:I was cleaning out my old hard drive, and ran past this old thing. It's probably one of my first things to write for Fanfiction dot net, so it's at least two or three years old. It was a quick little piece when I wrote it. Besides a couple of words to help grammar, this is untouched.

Precious Minutes

I wasn't ready.

If Sirius ever found out, he would be laughing at me. I've always been ready to die young. Heck, I probably should have died a few times during our first year, as a simple eleven-year-old.

But don't believe I was ready to die at the age of twenty-one. Don't believe I was brave at the face of death, don't believe I was ready to be a martyr, and don't believe I was ready for death.

And especially don't believe I was ready to find out the truth.

I yelled at her. I know that. The words came out of my mouth. But if I had been thinking any clearer, I may have tried to save my own butt.

"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and run! I'll give you time to leave!" She would not move. She would not leave.

"I'm not leaving you to die, James! You're too good for that!"

"If I die, I'll know it was to save you and Harry! Now go!" I heard her run up the stairs before the door blasted open.

He tried to make me feel horrible about not joining his side. Breaking down my spirit, so as to join him and save myself. But I knew it would be better to die than join him. Besides, I couldn't be hurt anymore than I already was. My best friend betrayed me, and two of the people I loved more than anyone else had to suffer from the mistake I made of trusting him.

"Crucio," the cold voice echoed across the room. The pain shot through my body, and I started whithering, the worst physical pain I had ever felt before. But nothing could compare with the pain I felt, knowing that Lily, and probably Harry, would be going through the same thing.

He asked me again, was I to join him, or die? My heart thumping, my voice cracking, and tears running down my cheeks, I gave him my final answer.

"There are things worse than death, Tom."

And although death was the better of the two choices given to me, I certainly wasn't ready to hear the two words Voldemort whispered.

"Avada Kedavra."