Peter
As the silver hand chocked the life from him he felt Harry's frantic efforts to pry it lose, as the darkness closed in the last thing he saw was the green eyes so like Lily's.
Peter felt himself swirling backwards and he opened his eyes, around him flashed images, like the muggle motion pictures Sirius and James had taken him to.
Backwards he fell and backwards in time flowed the images…his luring of Charity Burbage in to Voldemort's clutches, the torture of Olivander and the Lovegood girl.
The cemetery and the murder of Cedric Diggory, binding and the letting of Harry Potter's blood, the pain of sacrificing his hand for the return of the dark lord.
Fleeing to Albania and find Jorkins, luring her to his master and watching her scream then die.
Then back to the knowledge Sirius was out of Azkaban and searching for him, the fear of Remus finding him alive.
Then through the years hiding at the Weasleys, too afraid to change back in to his human form, afraid to be found out and punished.
Sirius finding him on that muggle street, cutting off of his own finger, the spell and the faces of the 12 muggles as they died.
He could feel the sweat that poured from him as he convinced James to make him the secret keeper, so the dark lord could kill the boy.
Then he tasted the fear that had convinced him to betray all his friends believed in and go to lord Voldemort as a double agent.
Back through the stench of his conviction that he would never be good enough, smart enough, handsome enough to make it without powerful friends.
Peter hoped he would see some good, some of the wee boy he had been, but those scenes flashed by too quickly.
Then he felt himself float to a stop, the darkness around him was absolute and an overwhelming, nameless fear began to overtake him.
Peter cried out; "What is my punishment? I never meant for it to happen? God you speak of forgiveness! Why won't you forgive me?" But no one answered.
Peter just floated there, everything he had worked so hard to avoid, alone, afraid, forever.