The slithering serpent sunk its teeth into my pale neck. Again. And again. I could feel the sharp teeth, the piercing of my skin, blood slowly leaving my body, the heavy weight of the snake upon my shoulders as Nagini attacked fiercely upon the Dark Lord's command. Gnashing and thawing at my neck, determined not to vanish until she had fulfilled her master's wishes, filled his desire to have me killed. Me. A person who he once felt was indisposable, almost, as if I was his right hand man.
It wasn't my impending death I feared; little did the Dark Lord know my true loyalties. Despite the opinions of the entire wizarding population, the views which frequented the Daily Prophet before the ministry was taken over, views which were now referred to on Potterwatch. Yes, I listened to the broadcast from the Order of the Phoenix, even though the found regular comedy in insulting me and, more specifically, my hair. Little was they to know I intentionally caused my locks to appear greasy and slimy, it was my way of mourning; I had been mourning for sixteen years, and the greasiness reflected my disgust at my younger self, the disgust for becoming involved in the dark arts, disgust at bringing the prophecy to the Dark Lord's attention. My disgust at indirectly killing the love of my life.
I thought with regret of my last encounter with her. She had called me a coward. Said I was taking the cowardly option by joining the Death Eaters, that I had lost my sincerity and was no longer the same person that used to be her best friend. I had hoped to make it up to her. Deliver the information to Harry now the time had come. As much resentment as I felt towards the boy, he was, after all, proof of Lily's preference for another man, when Dumbledore had informed me the boy must eventually die, an overwhelming sense of grief and despair had filled me. I had felt that Lily's protection of him was being disregarded. She had died to allow her son a life, a life of happiness and joy, not the tragedies he's faced, nor feeling the continuous threat the Dark Lord imposed, not as Dumbledore had said "so Harry can die at the right moment, when Voldemort is most vulnerable."
When Harry had called me a coward last June, it had torn me. Seeing the hate that laced his green eyes, it replicated the same look his mother had given me years earlier; it had made me want to succumb to tears. Instead I had opted to kick the boy's wand from him before he did anything foolish, and rather than fleeing, I had gone and visited her grave in Godric's Hollow. I had visited since, just before Christmas and had left a message inscribed on the ruins of their house, simply inscribing 'Good luck, Harry'. It was the most I could do without people finding out. I wanted my emotions guarded as then people see you to be strong albeit perhaps harsh.
I can now feel the poison trickling down my neck, heading through my veins. I envied the marauders now more than ever. At least they died considered heroes. James protecting his son, Black whilst duelling his psychotic cousin, Lupin in battle. Even Wormtail had once been considered a heroic death, even if it had been fake, blowing up the street and leaving a finger. I laugh at how the Dark Lord placed him under my care when he returned, I despised him more than I despised any of the other marauders. Wormtail, I had wanted to tear apart, just so he could feel some of the pain I felt every day. Coward indeed.
I realise now, despite being a double agent, I am a coward. I have never shown any regard for Harry, instead I deliberately made life difficult for him. I had deliberately lengthened his detentions when discovering his romance with the Weasley girl, I realise now that this was because I had rationalized it as being a form of revenge, where a Potter doesn't always get the redhead, my jealousy had shown me to still be bitter, but their romance also acted as an unwanted reminder of my love for my Lily.
The snake bite is worsening and I can now feel death will be minutes upon me. All of my life's crimes will be finished. I may move on to a place where I am no longer despised, the Dark Lord has no care, likewise the others will care very little about my death, I heard the whooping and cheering upon my departure, I'm no fool, I know few will care but perhaps, I will see Lily again.
I picture her from Hogwarts. Her Gryffindor robes billowing around her ankles covering her green summer dress she adored wearing. It used to contrast her red hair, not flaming like the Weasleys, but a reddish brown which glinted and glistened whenever the sun passed over her. The green summer dress used to really bring out her eyes as well, emphasise the beauty in the jade-green eyes, the sparkle evident allowing her to see beauty in everything she came across, whether it be an insect or flower, or even insecure Slytherins. I remember the times we spent around the Lake at Hogwarts, studying under trees, teasing one another, I remember every hug we shared, the smell of her strawberry shampoo which used to fill my nostrils, her flowery perfume which used to blend in so nicely so she smelt perfect.
The snake has left me now. She knows I am moments from death and I have been left alone, lying on this damp, dusty floor within the depths of the Shrieking Shack. My eyesight is beginning to blur and noise is becoming fainter and fainter however I can make out the outline of someone entering the room. As the figure nears, I realise it is Harry. I still have a chance of informing him. I try to speak but my throat is dry and burning so I allow memories to escape my body. The boy has summoned a vial and appears to understand that I want him to take them however I force myself to tell him anyway, I rationalize that Lily would say he deserved to know, to make his own choice.
Harry has bent down and I can see sympathy resting on his face. How can he have sympathy for me after how I've treated him all these years? I have already declared I am nothing but a coward. In many ways cowards have no place in this battle, I am merely leaving it. Its taking surprising strength however to let go, as my thoughts have frequently, I think again of Lily and pray she will give me the strength to die. "Look at me." I delve into the boys eyes, identical to those of his mother's and picture her face, thinking only of her and her radiant smile I let go until my eyes go dull.
When I awaken I see a figure walking towards me. Lily. I fear she will reject me for my cowardice but she doesn't. "Sev. You were never a coward. You're forever my best friend."