Part of the Year Long Scavenger Hunt ([E12] Write about Peter Pettigrew going to Azkaban) on HPFC.
Taking Sides
It hadn't been long after Sirius' death that Harry made certain his story was known. He had spoken to Delinah at the Daily Prophet, who was more than happy to write the piece, a very public eulogy from godson to godfather.
Harry picked up the newspaper and watched Sirius as his mouth formed a grin. The black and white photograph didn't do him justice. His eyes swept over the contents of the article.
AWAITING JUDGEMENT: SIRIUS BLACK VINDICATED
Sirius Black was a seriously misunderstood wizard. His life was difficult from beginning to end, but despite this plight he always tried to make any situation seem better than it was. His smile was infectious, he was loyal to a fault, and he made his own family when blood turned its back on him.
Harry quickly brought his sleeve up to his face. He told himself there wasn't any use in tears. He needed to get angry. Which is why after he wrote the eulogy, he had given Delinah a bit more incentive to publish. His eyes skimmed the rest of the article until they reached the next.
PETTIGREW: THE DEATH EATER
How the Potters were really betrayed, the truth behind the lies
It was small consolation that Peter was thrown into Azkaban for this article. It wasn't even enough to know that the prison guards had created a spellbind that didn't allow him to transform, making it that much easier for the Dementors to feed off him. In fact, it was difficult to be happy with the situation at all. There was only one thing Harry truly wanted… but Peter was behind bars now, and Harry couldn't quite bring himself to kill the spineless bastard before he was arrested.
Harry lowered the Daily Prophet to his side, gazing into the dark, dank cell before him.
"So," he said, looking down at the pathetic-looking face of the man he hated most in this world. "How are you, Peter? Suffering hideously, I hope."
Peter's eyes darted about the cell. He didn't say anything, so Harry continued.
"How can you live with yourself?" Harry slammed his hand down on one of the cell bars. "Look at me!" When Peter looked up, his eyes wide, Harry said, "You think your pitiful life was worth more than my family's?"
Peter began muttering unintelligible words. Another hand slammed against the bars and Peter jumped in surprise.
"He would have killed me," he said quietly, almost a whisper.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You should have let him."
Peter shivered. "I didn't have a choice."
If Harry could have reached into the cell, he would have strangled the rat himself.
"You always have a choice. You chose your side. I hope you're happy with the outcome. You'll be living out your days in this cell, your best friends are dead, and the rest of the world hates you. Once you've come to terms with that, if you ever do, it will be too late to change anything. Enjoy your choices, Peter."
Harry dropped the Daily Prophet on the ground in front of the cell and walked away. When he turned the corner, he looked back and saw Peter clutching the newspaper. He could hear soft sobs.
He felt no sympathy at all. There was only hatred.