Summary: [short story] November 1, 1981. Lily and James Potter are dead, and the one who had betrayed them is on the run from the one who had only wanted to help them.
Author's Notes: Meh. I know I haven't updated Of Hidden Truths in over four months, but the thing is that I've been feeling uninspired of the late and I wrote this hoping it would get me back on track. ^.^" Well, it certainly put some things into perspective for me! ^.^" Hope you all enjoy! ^.~!
Disclaimer: Don't own HP. -.-' If I would the ending of Ootp would be SO different. Believe me *winks* All characters belong to JK Rowling because she is the mastermind who created them. Duh.
"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"
His vision went red as unrestrained rage overcame his senses. He hardly noticed where they were; all he knew was Peter Pettigrew and the events of that night. Events that could have been prevented...
He growled lowly, shoving the thoughts away. He had the traitor within his grasp and--oh, he would have the pleasure of killing the rat. They had trusted the rat! It was supposed to have been a bluff! No one was supposed to have known about the switch!
And now, only he and the rat were left.
He pulled out his wand without thinking; the rage boiling within him was destroying his judgement. He didn't care, he realized distantly. He wanted the rage to overwhelm him, to take away the pain and grief that he had since digging through the wreakage of Godric Hollow and pulling out the bodies of the two friends he had tried to protect. The rage muted those emotions and all he wanted to do was kill the man who had killed them...
Lily.
James.
Before he could utter a sound, he was caught at the edge of a blast which knocked him off of his feet. There must have been screaming, but he couldn't hear a sound. The force of the explosion was like that of a Muggle bomb, and he could feel blood dripping from his nose and ears.
He sat there dumbly as everything settled, mentally reassuring himself that he would be able to hear again later. There was something that then caught his eye, and horror crept up his spine.
Bodies. Muggles. At least a dozen of them lay there in the street.
No Pettigrew.
Slowly, he climbed to his feet and walked to the center of the damage; his wand was gone from his hand and probably destroyed. It was then that he spotted them. Black, bloody robes at the focuse point of the blast. No wand lay with the rags.
It hit him with as much force as the explosion had.
Peter had gotten away. Wormtail had run from the scene of the crime, leaving him as the man left standing.
Muttering sounds caught his ears, and he looked around to see hundreds of Muggles watching him, terrified. They were staring at the bodies, at the man who now stood amongst them. They all watched as he looked to the robes again, fury etched into his youthful visage.
He felt like screaming and cursing the coward's name. He wanted to kill the rat who had killed his friends--but that was what it now looked like, wasn't it? To those who survived to witness it all, it appreared that Wormtail had been the one running from a madman who had already killed two others. It seemed to them that it was he who had caused this atrocity...
Numbness--God, he felt so numb--slowly crawled its way into him. Hadn't he been Lily and James' killer after all? He, who had been the one who came up with the switch, was to blame. Had the rat been right in placing these Muggles' deaths on him?
He stared at the rags for a long while before he heard the sound of several people Apparating behind him. Then it dawned on him...
His lips curled into a cruel smile before his body started to shake. The people watching him froze as the sound of him chuckling reached them. After all, what could be funny about this grisly scene?
They, however, didn't know the real killer, and the wizard standing in the center of the debris continued to laugh at the irony of it all. His laughter rang out louder and louder each second as he continued to realize his situation. Tears blurred his vision as they fell down his cheeks in twin rivers.
Wormtail had out-smarted him! Bullied, pathetic Peter Pettigrew had caught him and had been the one--the only one--to frame him of a crime he hadn't committed! Furthermore, Remus hadn't been the spy for Voldemort, and he had tricked himself into thinking the werewolf would dare betray his friends! For two years, he had never realized who had been the rat, even when the answer was there in front of him every full moon!
He staggered slightly, pressing his arms to his sides as they began to ache from the laughter.
Lily and James were dead, and he had almost gotten the one who had killed them. Now he was the one blamed for their deaths. Just as well, then! He had been the one with the plan that killed them!
Through his laughter, he felt several wands press against him. Someone spoke, their voice ice-cold, but he didn't hear them. He was guilty no matter what he said, anyway. A Black was never innocent, after all! Voldemort was gone as well, and hadn't he quit the Aurors just recently? No one would believe him to be innocent!
After a moment more, he sobered--though it didn't last long. This time when he laughed, he was actually amused.
Hagrid had his motorbike!
Author's Notes: O.o...okay, even with how I ended it, this is like one of the darkest things I've written really. *shudders* I'm not much for writing seriously angsty things--or am I? O.o? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this part. There should be one more section up shortly. ^.~! Ja!
Author's Notes: Meh. I know I haven't updated Of Hidden Truths in over four months, but the thing is that I've been feeling uninspired of the late and I wrote this hoping it would get me back on track. ^.^" Well, it certainly put some things into perspective for me! ^.^" Hope you all enjoy! ^.~!
Disclaimer: Don't own HP. -.-' If I would the ending of Ootp would be SO different. Believe me *winks* All characters belong to JK Rowling because she is the mastermind who created them. Duh.
"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"
His vision went red as unrestrained rage overcame his senses. He hardly noticed where they were; all he knew was Peter Pettigrew and the events of that night. Events that could have been prevented...
He growled lowly, shoving the thoughts away. He had the traitor within his grasp and--oh, he would have the pleasure of killing the rat. They had trusted the rat! It was supposed to have been a bluff! No one was supposed to have known about the switch!
And now, only he and the rat were left.
He pulled out his wand without thinking; the rage boiling within him was destroying his judgement. He didn't care, he realized distantly. He wanted the rage to overwhelm him, to take away the pain and grief that he had since digging through the wreakage of Godric Hollow and pulling out the bodies of the two friends he had tried to protect. The rage muted those emotions and all he wanted to do was kill the man who had killed them...
Lily.
James.
Before he could utter a sound, he was caught at the edge of a blast which knocked him off of his feet. There must have been screaming, but he couldn't hear a sound. The force of the explosion was like that of a Muggle bomb, and he could feel blood dripping from his nose and ears.
He sat there dumbly as everything settled, mentally reassuring himself that he would be able to hear again later. There was something that then caught his eye, and horror crept up his spine.
Bodies. Muggles. At least a dozen of them lay there in the street.
No Pettigrew.
Slowly, he climbed to his feet and walked to the center of the damage; his wand was gone from his hand and probably destroyed. It was then that he spotted them. Black, bloody robes at the focuse point of the blast. No wand lay with the rags.
It hit him with as much force as the explosion had.
Peter had gotten away. Wormtail had run from the scene of the crime, leaving him as the man left standing.
Muttering sounds caught his ears, and he looked around to see hundreds of Muggles watching him, terrified. They were staring at the bodies, at the man who now stood amongst them. They all watched as he looked to the robes again, fury etched into his youthful visage.
He felt like screaming and cursing the coward's name. He wanted to kill the rat who had killed his friends--but that was what it now looked like, wasn't it? To those who survived to witness it all, it appreared that Wormtail had been the one running from a madman who had already killed two others. It seemed to them that it was he who had caused this atrocity...
Numbness--God, he felt so numb--slowly crawled its way into him. Hadn't he been Lily and James' killer after all? He, who had been the one who came up with the switch, was to blame. Had the rat been right in placing these Muggles' deaths on him?
He stared at the rags for a long while before he heard the sound of several people Apparating behind him. Then it dawned on him...
His lips curled into a cruel smile before his body started to shake. The people watching him froze as the sound of him chuckling reached them. After all, what could be funny about this grisly scene?
They, however, didn't know the real killer, and the wizard standing in the center of the debris continued to laugh at the irony of it all. His laughter rang out louder and louder each second as he continued to realize his situation. Tears blurred his vision as they fell down his cheeks in twin rivers.
Wormtail had out-smarted him! Bullied, pathetic Peter Pettigrew had caught him and had been the one--the only one--to frame him of a crime he hadn't committed! Furthermore, Remus hadn't been the spy for Voldemort, and he had tricked himself into thinking the werewolf would dare betray his friends! For two years, he had never realized who had been the rat, even when the answer was there in front of him every full moon!
He staggered slightly, pressing his arms to his sides as they began to ache from the laughter.
Lily and James were dead, and he had almost gotten the one who had killed them. Now he was the one blamed for their deaths. Just as well, then! He had been the one with the plan that killed them!
Through his laughter, he felt several wands press against him. Someone spoke, their voice ice-cold, but he didn't hear them. He was guilty no matter what he said, anyway. A Black was never innocent, after all! Voldemort was gone as well, and hadn't he quit the Aurors just recently? No one would believe him to be innocent!
After a moment more, he sobered--though it didn't last long. This time when he laughed, he was actually amused.
Hagrid had his motorbike!
Author's Notes: O.o...okay, even with how I ended it, this is like one of the darkest things I've written really. *shudders* I'm not much for writing seriously angsty things--or am I? O.o? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this part. There should be one more section up shortly. ^.~! Ja!