"So..you have agreed to work with me," whispered Voldemort, drawing his wand away from my throat and simply pointing it.
Hating myself – hating every inch of myself – hating myself more than I hated anyone I'd ever hated, hating myself more than I'd hated Malfoy, or Snape, or –
(my new colleagues – )
I nodded, forcing back tears that threatened my eyes.
I am a fool.
I am an idiot.
I am a git.
I am atraitor.
I am a RAT.
I nearly laughed at the irony of it.
"Crucio," he whispered – to test me, I suppose?
I screamed, the pain overtaking me, screaming, screaming, I begged it to stop, but it wouldn't. Incoherent thoughts flapped through my brain – I was nothing now, nothingnothingnothing, the only thing that ever made me was my friends, and now I was nothing, just a speck, just someone – I'd thought agreeing would save me, save me, save me from the torture, but it didn't – more, more, more pain, no, no, no, no, no –
And then it was over. "What are your abilities?" said the Dark Lord – (my new boss – ) abruptly.
"I'm an Animagi," I choked out. "I can turn into a r-rat. I'm good at Astronomy and Divination."
"Divination.." said the Dark Lord quietly. "That should be useful..
"What is your name, boy?"
The Dark Lord cocked his head slightly. He smiled a horrible smile.
"You are no good at Occulemncy, Wormtail," he said quietly. "Yes, I like that name.. Wormtail it is."
I forced myself to recall the Occulemency lessons all the 7th years had been required to take, and with much effort, I shut my mind.
DON'T CALL ME WORMTAIL.
ONLY JAMES,( – who you betrayed – ) ONLY REMUS, ONLY SIRIUS AND ONLY LILY ( – who you betrayed – ) CAN CALL ME WORMTAIL!
But of course I didn't say that.
I bowed my head slightly. "Yes, my Lord," I whispered.
"Come," he said sharply. "I have work for you, Wormtail."
As he swept away, leaving me to scuttle behind him, I finally allowed tears to soak my face.
(you don't deserve to cry you lying betraying rat you git)
"Come along, Wormtail!"
(Don't call me Wormtail, DON'T CALL ME WORMTAIL, YOU – )
"C-c-c-coming, My Lord," I squeaked, scuttling quickly after him.
Months and Months and Months Later
From the sewers, I watched them carry Sirius away, hating myself like never before.
(Sirius will never call you Wormtail again.)
(Lily will never call you Wormtail again.)
(Remus will never call you Wormtail again.)
(James will never call you Wormtail again.)
(Serves you right – YOU RAT.)
Years and Years and Years Later
"You owe me, Wormtail!" grunted Harry.
Perhaps it was the name 'Wormtail.'
I released my grip.
(Yes, yes, yes, YOU CAN CALL ME WORMTAIL – )
The silver hand tightened around my throat.
(you finally got what you deserve, you RAT.)
And my last thought before there was just black?
(It's as good as James calling me Wormtail.)
Funny. After all that, after betraying my friends, after having to serve the Dark Lord, after being a horrible, disgusting, traitorous rat –
with someone like James calling me Wormtail, and not the Dark Lord, who didn't deserve to call me Wormtail –
I have to say, I died happy.