Fault

wormtail

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

Three of the most powerful people I knew have fallen in the past three days - James, Sirius, and the Dark Lord; and in one way or another, it's all because of me.

I bet none of them saw that coming. Would have seen it coming, had the only three people who knew not been unable to tell anyone. After all, James and Lily are dead, and no one is willing to listen to a convict, the one who killed thirteen people infront of a whole host of more. The one everyone regards as unstable and homicidal, completely unhinged.

I should have known I wouldn't be recognized even for the biggest thing I'd ever do. Life doesn't work that way for me, and it never has. Why should it have, though? When you're nothing more than a molehill and your friends are the three tallest mountains, it only makes sense that their shadows fall on you.

There was James. So bloody wonderful in everything he did. He had the brains. He would spend not five minutes studying and get the highest marks across the board in all his NEWTs. He had talent. He had Quidditch. He had a gorgeous wife. He had a son that would be just like his father - perfect. And he would have done anything at all for anyone he cared about, even if in the end it got him killed.

There was Sirius. The charming one. The one that everyone adored. The one with the looks and the charisma and the pack of salivating females at his heels twentyfour seven. The one that could do no wrong, the one everyone loved infinately and the one everyone would have trusted with their life. I don't suppose they trust him so much anymore.

And then there was Remus. The thinker, the realist, the one who made sure the group had at least two of the eight feet on the ground. The selfless one. The one who's alone.

It's only natural that no one ever notice me. I'm not the one who sticks out. I'm none of the above. I'm not wonderful, I'm not charming and I'm not a thinker.

The biggest event in my life never even happened, and I'm dead to the world. Someone else was credited with the biggest thing I ever did, and the only ones who would praise me for it are defeated.

I guess I needed Remus to tie me to reality as much as Sirius and James always did.

I tore them apart. I murdered a friend, framed another and abandoned the last.

The quartet is gone. I know that.

It's funny, really, how the last act of the play is the only one I'm in.

It's my fault.