Harry was determined to put an end to Voldemort and he did. He was determined put an end to Wormtail, and he did. But he wasn’t proud of either. He had to; it wasn’t self-determination alone what lead him to use the “Avada Kedavra” curse.
He still resented that. He wasn’t a murderer.
At the end of the last battle against the Dark Lord, Hermione was almost dead, Ron was nearly blind, and both Snape and Dumbledore were facing the remains of Voldemort. Remus Lupin (an auror werewolf who used to teach in Hogwarts) and Lucius Malfoy (a dead eater turned good) were chasing after the few remaining dead eaters.
But Harry was having an inner fight with himself.
He was standing in front of Wormtail, who was tied up and could barely move. Harry was in pain, but also full of hate. In front of him was the man who killed his parents. He had to do something; Azkaban without the Dementor’s didn’t seem enough punishment for Wormtail. He couldn’t just turn him in to the Ministry of Magic.
He got up from the chair where he was sitting and he took his wand from the floor. He released Wormtail from the strings and stared at him, full of hate. “Oh, Harry, I knew you’d understand.” But Harry didn’t talk.
He wasn’t the same old boy that he used to be. He was almost 6 feet tall now, nearly a man, and the expression in his face showed how many things he went though, and this was one of the toughest one of all. He had his wand and wasn’t afraid of using it, he wasn’t thinking of the outcome. All he could think of was the voice of his parents the night they died, that same old nightmare he’d been having for the last six years. But now it was about to be over.
“You wouldn’t just attack me now, would you Harry?” Harry looked at him. He was holding his wand towards Wormtail’s nose. “You are absolutely right Scabbers. I shouldn’t just kill you… After all, you did nothing but slaughtering my parents and tried to kill me several times after that. All the people I care about is on the other room, looking not too good… No, you are right, I have NO REASON to attack you.”
Harry’s wand was bursting with a bluish flame that made Wormtail float in the air for a few minutes. With a flick of his wand, he smashed him through one of the walls. “Get up! Come on, What? Are you scared of a boy? GET UP!” Harry was nearly crying now, but whether it was for pain, sadness or rage he couldn’t tell.
He only had to say 2 words, and Wormtail’s life will end. He deserved it, even more than Voldemort. He had tricked his parents and Sirius and deceived them; Sirius had spent many years suffering the Dementor’s torture & then died in an awful way. Wormtail deserved it. No more, no less than that.
Harry just had to pronounce them, just like Wormtail had done years ago, to kill Cedric. Just Avada Kedavra and that was it. Harry burst into tears, there he was, his wand on his had, Wormtail right there, and he was about to say those words that he resented so much. “Av- Avada” he was whispering them, he couldn’t say them, he wasn’t a murdered, he wasn’t like Voldemort or Wormtail himself. He couldn’t do it.
“Do- Don’t do it Harry-“ Dumbledore’s voice came from behind him. “Let go of your wand, come on, go with your friends now, I’ll take him to Azkaban myself. He’s getting what he deserves.”
Dumbledore was serious.
“Did I get what I deserve? I couldn’t even choose, he just killed my PARENTS! Hermione is almost gone now, and Ron… And HE did all this.” Wormtail was slightly moving to his left.
“Are you going somewhere?” Harry was still pointing his wand towards him. “You know? Don’t even try it, you cant turn into an Animagus anymore, thanks to the potion Snape just threw at you.”
Harry was hurt, bad, he might not be bleeding, but he was in pain.
“Come on Harry! Hermione is asking for you, go to her, to them” But Harry wouldn’t go, he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to take Wormtail to Azkaban himself. He wasn’t a boy anymore. They failed to see that Wormtail was approaching towards a wand that was lying on the floor. As soon as he grabbed it, he sent them flying across the room, knocking Dumbledore unconscious.
Wormtail sent Harry “Expelliarmus”, but he derived it to the wall, that exploded in a million pieces. A cold, wet air came through the wall. They both felt it. Curses came and go, and Harry was bruised, and tired and lying on the floor, close (but not close enough) from a knocked out Dumbledore. Wormtail hesitated for a second. Will he kill the boy that started all this mess? Will he kill the greatest wizard of the Century and take all the glory?
There was no doubt in his head. Wormtail stood next to Dumbledore, pointed his wand towards him, but couldn’t say the curse; “Avada Kedrava” came from Harry’s wand first.
Wormtail was dead. Dumbledore was safe.
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