It's short, I know, but I don't think it could be much longer. Let me know what you think of it.
I still don't really believe it. You'd think it would have sunk in, seeing as I'm sat here, wide awake and freezing, Dementors outside my door and the screams of the other prisoners echoing around me.
Azkaban never was a happy place.
And even though every time I close my eyes I see the wreckage that was your house, I see the glint in Wormtail's eyes as he cut of his finger, and I hear my own laughter.
Because what else could I do but laugh? They thought it was me, there was no changing it, no bringing you back. If I didn't laugh, I think I'd have sobbed until I shrivelled up.
It's my fault. I convinced you to use him instead of me. Weak little Wormtail. No one would ever guess you'd trusted him.
But who would ever guess he was a Death Eater? A spy?
We should have. It's obvious now, isn't it? Now that we know, it isn't a surprise. But if we'd realised, if we'd figured it out...
I wouldn't be here, and you wouldn't be dead.
I'm cold. So cold, James. My insides are frozen, my lungs. My heart. I know they're feeding off of this, the misery I'm drowning in. The hope that it's all just a mistake...
Poor Remus. I can imagine how this is eating at him. You and Lily dead. Peter, apparently dead. And me. A crazy, murdering, spy. The friend who betrayed him, betrayed you and Lily.
I confess, I thought he might realise it's all a mistake, he might understand that it's impossible I would do that to you. But, of course, why would he? He thought I was the secret keeper. Everyone thought I was the one who killed Peter and all those poor muggles.
And no one listens, James. No one listens when you scream that you're innocent.
No one cares when you scream at all.
How can you be dead though? Sometimes I wonder if it's all a lie. Ridiculous, really, since I saw the house, saw Hagrid take Harry away...
Harry. I remember Lily telling us about her sister. And Harry's with them, stuck with them. I hope he's OK. I wish I could look after him.
But no. I have to sit in a cell, not daring to close my eyes. Because when I close my eyes, I can imagine it. Your yells. And you falling to the ground. Lily's screams. Voldemort's laughter.
And I know that it's my fault. Me and Wormtail sent him there. Me and Wormtail and Voldemort together killed you.
You didn't want him as your secret keeper. You wanted me. You and Lily, you didn't want to change. I remember you telling me that as much as you trusted him, you'd rather have me.
And I trusted him too. So I forced him upon you.
If I'd got to Wormtail's house a little earlier, if I'd have gotten to yours just a little bit faster, I could have helped. Even if I could only hold him off enough for you to escape, you and Lily and Harry, it wouldn't matter. I'd rather be dead than be here, knowing you are. I'd rather had died for the two of you and Harry, than be here, with only the screams and sobs and mutters of the damned for company, knowing it's my fault he got to you.
You and Lily. How could he do that to you? How? When either of you would have died for him, when I or Remus would have done. And yet all year he'd been passing info, planning the end for us all.
Unbelievable, isn't it?
I'm sorry, Prongs. I'm sorry I didn't go earlier, didn't move faster. Didn't see the rat for what he really was. I'm sorry I made you use him. I'm sorry I got you killed.
Forgive me. Please, forgive me.