BeLikeThat This story's loosely based off of the 3 Doors Down song, Be Like That. Very loosely. Feel free to review, although you're under no obligation. It'd be much appreciate either way. :o)
Enjoy,
Aimée


For the first eighteen years of my life, you were my best friend. I like to think you still are, but no one really knows anymore. How can they, really? They can't ask me, they can't ask you… I wish there was some way to go back to those eighteen years, when we were students at Hogwarts. Before the War, before we knew what Death looked like, before Voldemort took over, when the worst thing we had to worry about was you beating the Slytherins in the next Quidditch match.

I miss you. I miss how things used to be… what they could be now, if I hadn't have been so bloody idiotic. Maybe, just maybe, if I ever get my hands on a Time Turner, I could go back in time and change the past. I wouldn't come back to the future – why would I want to live in this world? A world full of chaos, emptiness, torture, memories I don't think I can remember even one more time… Living here, in this world, right here, right now, is killing me. Even if I couldn't change the past, maybe I'd go back just to see you one more time. To see everyone once more.

I know no one's happy with me, nor will they ever be happy with me again. Hell, I can't even stand to be around me right now, I don't see how anyone else can. I did horrible things – horrible things I'm almost glad you weren't around to see. Everyone hates me now, Harry, and I'm afraid you do too.

Sometimes, at night, I look out the window at the moon and the stars and wonder exactly where you are… What you're doing… and if you're thinking of me. I'm sure you're not, but maybe… somehow…

When we were kids, I wished I could have been you. I wish I could have been as famous as you, but I was just known as Harry Potter's best friend. Not that I'm complaining… I'm about as famous as you were now. I realize how good I had it, basking in your shadow, not having to see the looks people gave me every time I passed them on the street… God, it's hell.

I'm so, so sorry about everything. I really didn't mean it… I didn't have a choice. If you were here, I know, you'd tell me there was always a choice. I suppose that's true, but not when He threatens your family. You wouldn't have known that, Harry. You have no family; Friends, yes, but never family. When He told me He'd kill Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, the Twins, and Ginny, I knew I had no choice. My life alone wasn't worth the lives of my entire family.

Percy was the acceptation, of course. He had already joined Voldemort and was begging me to. It wasn't his choice, of course, just as it wasn't mine. If he had refused, I wouldn't have had the chance to become a Death Eater, or graduate. I'd be dead.

I only killed one person, Harry, I swear. I didn't mean it… I cried, screamed, and almost ripped my neck out after I had. Voldemort told me I was great, he told me I was the best, he told me I was to be rewarded with everything I could have ever wanted.

What was there to want after you killed your best friend?

I'm sitting here, in this small cell, starring out the window once more. It's small, the window, and nary a mouse could squeeze through the bars. I deserve to be here, I'm not going to deny it. Out of all the prisoners here, I deserve to be here the most. Azkaban is everyone's personal hell, no matter what that may be. You're forced to see your worst memories over and over, without a break. I have no outlet as Sirius did; I'm only human, as you know, and I'm as guilt as possible. I see you every moment of every day, coming towards me, those green eyes of yours glinting with fury…

You had no idea, did you? You had no idea your best friend was a Death Eater. I say was, because that's what it is; was. I was caught in the act, after I killed you. Not that I mind… I'd rather it be this way, than having to broad on it for the rest of my life, knowing I wasn't paying. Not that serving a life sentence in Azkaban is paying off the debt I owe you in any way, shape or form. I owe you your life, something I can never give back. I'm so, so sorry. I know you'll never forgive me, nor will the rest of the world, but I thought I ought to have at least tried.

God, look at me… Talking to the moon as if you can really hear me. Maybe you can, I don't know. I'm not even talking out loud… I don't want the Dementors to hear me; I don't want to spill my thoughts to the other prisoners, especially thoughts about you. You're precious to me, Harry, even in death. You always will be.

I wish I could have died with you… I wish I were smart enough not to bawl like a baby and turn my wand on myself. We wouldn't be together, for I would be in Hell and you, Bestest, would be in Heaven with your family.

Percy died the night I killed you. He said he only killed when there was no other choice, but what choice was there? Kill or be killed, it was, and he and I had picked the wrong side to be with. Not that we had chosen to become Dark Wizards… Voldemort made us. He MADE us.

He's the one that killed you, not me. I spoke the words, yes, but I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. How could I have killed my best friend? Harry, I loved you as much or more than I loved my siblings. You were more of a brother to me than Percy or Bill or Charlie ever was, you meant more to me than life it's self. I couldn't have killed you, it's impossible, and that'd be like killing myself.

I'm not dead, so how could I have killed you? I'm still breathing, still walking, still sleeping, still eating when I have the chance, so how could it be?

I DIDN'T KILL YOU! Harry, I swear, please believe me… If there was one thing I regret the most… the one thing I'd deny if I could… I didn't kill you. Please, forgive me, believe me, love me again like you did, like I was the one person that mattered in your life. All those times I screwed up our friendship over trivial things… Please, forgive me, I didn't mean it. I swear. I didn't want to kill you… He made me.

I always wished I was you, Harry. I used to pray at night that somehow, I'd become as famous as you, as good as Quidditch, as good of a person… of course, that never came true. I'm famous, but I could never be as famous or as good as you. I'm famous because I killed Harry Potter, I'm famous because I killed you, I'm famous because I killed my best friend.

My best friend.

God, if there is a God…

Forgive me.


[part one of three]

Next... Hermione.