No one believed you. You knew that Peter was the spy, but how could he be? How could sweet, innocent Petter Pettigrew be the Dark Lord’s spy? It didn’t make any sense. To the others anyway.

But you knew. You saw the Dark Mark on his forearm during one of the meetings. You told James, you told Albus, but yet no one would listen to you.

And now, Peter was in your apartment, searching for you. James must’ve told him about your accusations, thinking it was some silly joke. You could hear his footsteps, walking through your living room, searching for you as you hid in your bathroom.

You were going to die tonight. The Dark Lord doesn’t like loose ends. “Come on, baby. You don’t have to be scared, I just want to talk about this, okay?” You heard Peter say from the living room.