Little Peter
It was Peter. The numb thought runs through my head as I prepare to die, for there is no doubt now that I will die. Peter was the traitor, the spy. Peter who was just small enough to be just beneath our notice, our suspicion. The perfect spy.
I remember when we first met him. Friendly, cheerful Peter, not especially bright but he made up for it with his enthusiasm. We met him just after we had all been Sorted. The feast had begun and we got talking. The three of us, me, Sirius and Peter, had just been on our way to becoming firm friends when we noticed a certain shy, sandy haired boy who seemed to be concentrating as hard as he could on making himself invisible. We decided to bring him out of his shell and the legend of the Marauders was born. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. That was the Peter I knew, funny, loyal Peter.
He was loyal in Hogwarts. We were the firmest of friends, the four of us.
Where did we go wrong Peter? I'd do it all again if I knew. Not for me, although I would, obviously, prefer not to die, but for Lily and Harry. But where did we go wrong? OK, so we were jerks a lot of the time and we tended to patronise you. Well, Remus didn't of course, but me and Sirius did, all the time. Voldemort though, how could you think of joining Voldemort Peter? Murder? Were we really that bad? We can't have been Peter. I know you might be resentful towards me, but Lily? Sweet Merlin's rosy cheeks, Harry? He's just a baby, an innocent. He doesn't even now we're fighting a war. He doesn't even know what war is. Please Peter. I could handle you wanting to kill me Peter, but my little baby. You can't kill Harry.
Lily and Harry are going to get away Peter, I know they will. You won't win Peter; I won't let you.
Merlin Peter, our little Wormtail. I know you. You'd never hurt a fly, unless me or Sirius encouraged you to. Is that it Peter? You've found someone else to tell you what to do? Are you really that easily lead? Do you have a mind of your own? I remember you, Peter, and you seemed to have one then.
Peter, you were one of the best friends I've ever had, and now I'm going to die because of you.
I can see him, Peter, your master. It doesn't matter; if I've bought Lily and Harry enough time it doesn't matter.
I've forgotten my wand Peter, not that I'd stand a chance against Voldemort anyway. My job is to be wand fodder.
He's here, Peter. He's here.