Disclaimer: Now, I'd like all you good boys and girls to guess what a 'disclaimer' is. I'll give you a hint: it doesn't mean I own the world of Harry Potter. (For those of you who like it spelled out: I don't own Peter, the Dark Mark, firewhisky, Voldemort, Sirius, James, Remus, or lycanthropy. Or God, for that matter.)
This isn't me, I swear it isn't. A year ago, if someone told me that I'd be taking the Dark Mark in a year's time, I'd laugh and say they were crazy. Me? The Dark Mark? You've been having too much to drink, mate.
But here I am, ironically enough, drinking shot after shot, bottle after bottle of firewhisky, trying to drown the pain. Somewhere inside, I know that I can't — I know that nothing can stop the pain. God, I wish so bad that this was just over — so childish, I know, but what I want most right now is for Voldemort to just disappear. I'm living such a nightmare, and it's all because of him. Why did I join his side? Why?
Ah, that's right. I remember. He threatened to hurt my friends — Sirius, James, Remus. I don't know how he knows about Remus being a werewolf. But that's not the point. The point is that I really, really, really don't want to be doing this, but if I don't, they'll be in danger. So I have to. No matter what, no matter how scared I am, I will always protect my friends.