by kara darkblood, a slytherin

A Simple Wish

"Neville Longbottom," she called. Her stern voice echoed through the air. I never asked to be in Gryffindor. I never asked for this. These seven years of hell. Potions, Transfiguration . . . barely passing. Having everyone look down on you as if you were something of a monster. I only wanted to be loved! Was that too much to ask? I had no parents, they were vegetables. I'd rather not have known that. It hurt so much to hear them ask who I was. I'd scream, I'd cry, "Mum, Dad! It's me! Neville!" and they'd just look at eachother, faces blank.

I thought when I went to Hogwarts that life would be great. So my gran said, she went to Hogwarts - she was a Ravenclaw. I couldn't ever be in Ravenclaw; I was much to thick. Thick as two wooden planks, they said. I wanted to be a Hufflepuff. So I did. Like my auntie, and my uncle. They were hard working, respectable people. They were like me.

Things didn't turn out the way I planned. My own thoughts sound so bitter, now. Be careful, Neville, I warn myself, don't trip on your Graduation Robes. Don't make an ass of yourself now. Not in front of Pansy, or Ginny, or Hermione. Not in front of Malfoy, or Ron, or Harry. God, how I hated them!

Well, I never really minded Hermione. She was my saviour, until she started dating Ron. Then we never really spoke. I almost failed potions. I think the only reason I passed is because Snape didn't want to have to deal with me again. The greasy bastard. I hope Master really gives it to him when we capture him.

That reminds me. I must shake right hands with McGonagall. Can't be showing my left forearm. Or maybe, I must shake with the left, take the diploma with the right.

I've given it away now - I'm a deatheater. Last person you'd expect to hear that from, right? You're all probably laughing, but it's true. I'm the Wormtail; there's always a Wormtail.

Why did I do it? Good question. The usual reasons - I was feeling insecure, I needed to be accepted. And there was Tom Riddle - Lord Voldemort, my Master - needing someone to replace Wormtail, someone on the inside, who could get to Potter and the rest of them. Do I regret it? No, of course not. Even although it goes against everything my parents fought for, I'd rather be on the winning side and have my memory, than be fighting for "what's right," and not have a memory at all. You might think that my logic is twisted; so what if it is? You weren't fat. You weren't ugly. The rest of you, you were all fairly good looking, even Pansy.

Oooh, Pansy . . . No one ever knew how much I lusted after her - not love, she's too snooty to deserve love - and if I ever told anyone, they would have told the whole school, and what a laughing stock I would be then. Can't risk that. Pansy Parkinson, not a tenth as brainy as Granger and not a tenth as pretty as Weasley. The feeling of power - it is so . . . appropriate . . . to see Pansy on her knees before me. You couldn't even come close to comprehending the feeling you get when that little, snotty brat is bowing before you as you sit next to the most powerful wizard in the world, as his right hand man.

Yes, I said the most powerful wizard - I'm not lying there. Master is much more powerful. I have no doubt that batty old Dumbledore won't last ten minutes in a fight against Master. He'd be lucky to get a single spell in, before Voldemort blasts him with more unforgivable curses than any DADA teacher's even heard of.

Most certainly, the most pleasure will be gotten from Potter. To hear him squirm when we kill Ron and Hermione, slowly and painfully, and, if we're lucky, we'll manage to get them when they're in a most . . . comprimising position. Of course, it would be nice for him to see his lovely wife cheating on him with . . . oh, say . . . Draco Malfoy?

I can just imagine poor little Potter.

I only ever wanted to be accepted - it was but a simple wish. And now I've attained that. At what price, it doesn't really matter. A simple wish.

That simple wish has been fufilled.