Prompt 9 - Death
@wolfstarmicrofic October 9, word count 286
His hands shook as he stared down at the newspaper. He hadn’t held a newspaper; he looked at the date, in twelve years. He let out a sob over that. Twelve years in Azkaban. He glowered at the picture again. There, amongst a gaggle of Weasleys, was Wormtail. He’d know that rat anywhere. He did some mental arithmetic; it was harder than he expected, but he figured out that the red-headed boy with Peter perched on his shoulder would be in the same year as Harry, probably in the same dorm.
The paper crumpled under his fingers as hate and anger pulsed through him, the strongest emotion he’d felt in years. He had to get out of here. He had to track down the man who had destroyed so many lives. He’d escape and kill him. Pettigrew's death was the only acceptable retribution for what he’d done.
His thoughts turned to his school days. The happiest days of his life, and of course, because anytime he thought about the Marauders, memories flooded his mind of Remus. Godric, he hoped he was alright. He’d been such an idiot, convinced by others that Remus had been the spy. “Idiot,” He growled at himself, his voice cracking from disuse. The man he loved with all his heart, and he’d thought the worst of him. Never again.
He felt the Dementors closing in, his emotions calling to them. He pushed everything down and concentrated on his revenge. He could dream about the life he could have had later. He transformed into Padfoot and curled up on his hard bed, letting the canine brain take over, numbing him of his complex emotions until the Dementors had nothing to feed off of.
