Requiem: Through the Rat's Eyes
The Traitor. He felt no remorse. He heard them scream. He heard them cry. He heard her plead for the baby's life. He heard him pretend to be the hero.
Like he always did.
But he wasn't. He was no hero. Who did he think he was kidding? Growing up with everything a child could think of, and throwing it all away for her. The muggle. The mudblood.
He had been the traitor. The wolf didn't know it; but he would figure it out soon. But by then, he would be gone. Long gone.
He couldn't stay here.
They were dead, anyways. Except for the baby. The baby had lived. Once the curse had been fired at him, it backfired. He saw it all. The baby sat there, wailing. The ministry came soon after.
He had to go.
He had to get away.
He would surly be appreciated amongst them.
He had led them to the heir of the Potter Bloodline.
That was the end of the family.
The mudblood and the hero were dead.
And the dog. The dog took the blame; the dog, who was the stag's best friend. It was the perfect setup.
And all it had cost him was a finger.