Certain Death

Certain Death.

Death had always been so certain, but this was different. Longer, harder and much more painful than death could ever be.

He shifted slightly, watching the phantom shadows playing on the wall opposite. Maybe they were all an illusion, but he didn't care.

Nightfall had come and gone, but it was still so dark. So he sat, waiting for death in the dark.

They were coming for him, and he could feel the inevitable march of his doom deep down in the pit of his stomach. The feeling of helplessness had only increased since he had been left alone. He had felt him fall, seen the light which blazed as he crumpled, the one thing which had given him the strength to fight the feelings of his own power.

It was pointless to run, delaying the fate that awaited him would serve no purpose and he found himself looking forward to the blank expanse of nothing that would be his.

The memories came then and he doubled over with the pain of the recollections of his past. Flashes of faces and snatches of conversations assaulted him and not for the first time he found himself trying to pinpoint the place where everything had gone so wrong. Had he been fated to perform the actions that had ultimately bought him to this place to wait for death with open arms? Could he have played the game differently?

A game... yes... this was all this had been, a game played by powers higher than he had ever known. Powers that took delight in forcing him to act this way, powers that had laughed when he had lost everything. He didn't believe in god, but there was a malevolent intelligence behind it all, directing his life in a way that he could never hope to understand.

Death was coming closer and closer now and realisation struck him. He did what he had been born to do. Nothing could have prevented him from doing what he had done. It was fate. His fate. Just as his death was fated too. He had played his part, and now it was time to pay the ultimate price.

The door swung open and two figures appeared. It was time. They lowered their hoods and he recognised them immediately. Of course it would be them, no-one else could possibly be the instruments of his death quite as well. There was a perverse logic to this ending, and he realised that for all the lies of power that had been whispered to him over the years, this was the only way that it could have ended.

The one who had promised him that he would live forever was dead. Killed by the only one who could have struck the mortal blow, the one who was born to kill the killer.

It only made sense that he would die at the hands of those who should have killed him when they had had the chance.

He stood, facing them. After having spent his life on his knees, he wanted to die on his feet. He spread his arms wide, inviting the blow.

Two words and a blast of green light and he was gone. Flying into the arms of his final peace.

~*~

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black stood over the body of one of their oldest friends.

"That's it... He's dead now... This is the end."

"The end?"

"The end of everything. Neither of us is quite so innocent now... We killed him, Sirius..."

"We did what needed to be done... No-one will blame us."

"We will... Both of us know what we did. We killed Peter..."

"He deserved to die."

"Perhaps..."