Miss Moony would like to say that she doesn't own Harry Potter and that she had no help with this story from Miss Wormtail, Miss Padfoot or Miss Prongs.
In response to the Hell's Phoenix Betrayal Challenge.
------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------
Scapegoat
There was no trial… only a short boat trip, and then the endless, endless, endless, tortured screams of Azkaban.
I cursed Peter, and myself, and Voldemort; for ever existing in the first place. For tearing apart the surrogate family I'd pasted together for myself: Brothers in everything but blood…
It seemed that Peter was cleverer than I thought, though… than any of us had suspected. And I'd thought that Remus was the traitor.
The thought tugged painfully at my heart. Moony, oh Moony, I'm so sorry I doubted you.
I was alone now, I knew. Moony had no way to know what Peter had done. James was dead, I was as good as, and the secret had died with us… unless Harry somehow managed to remember, that is.
I laughed, bitter tears running down my face. Harry had no one left, either, except Remus. They won't let you live with him, though, will they, little Prongslet? He's a werewolf.
The searing heat from the burning ruin of the house. "James! Lily! Harry!" I called out.
The thud of flesh hitting the ground, the flash of and explosion, and then... nothing.
The Dementors were here, and the sounds echoed in my skull, as the images flashed before my eyes, which I had screwed shut, trying to block out my memories.
Silence, until the smoke from the blasting spell cleared, and the Muggles started screaming in panic as they saw the bodies strewn about the street.
Itwasn'tmeitwasn'tmeitwasn'tme… All Wormtail's fault.
And the Dementors slowly left.
I opened my eyes in realisation. They could take away my happiness, but they could never, ever take away my innocence.
I would survive…