Two minutes.
Two minutes until freedom.
Freedom from you and your expectations.
Oh, I played my part brilliantly. Had everyone convinced I was light's saviour.
They never expected otherwise.
But really, how did anyone expect someone so broken to save anyone when he couldn't even save himself?
You made sure of that.
As if the memories of her death weren't enough. No, your saviour needed to be down-trodden, abused and desperately seeking love and attention.
I remember it.
Every last detail.
I bet you didn't know that.
How could I not? Every time I close my eyes I see it. Her death. Over and over again. I used to try and stop it, but I don't care anymore.
I haven't for years.
Longer than you've known me at any rate.
Did you know he didn't just cast the spell and move on? That most of the damage done to her was done while she was still living and not from the collapsed room?
I watched as he plunged his hand into her chest and pulled out her heart. I remember her screams.
You didn't know I knew that did you?
I do.
I know a lot more than you think.
I know about your affair with Grindelwald. You tried to bury it, but I know. I know about your brother's "fascination" with his goats. I know what used to happen behind Fudge's door when he was still in power. Did you know that Umbridge was undeniably devoted to him? She left him after he was kicked out of the minister position of course.
I also know about your part in creating him.
How you stood by and left him at the cruel hands of muggles.
We're a lot alike you know.
I guess I was, for the most part, a twisted experiment of nature Vs. nurture.
Did I turn out like him?
I like to think I'm worse.
After all, it's scarier when there's no motive.
He has a motive. He wants power.
I just want bloodshed.
I like to imagine what it would be like if you had left me to die with her. I think that where ever I would have been, I would be happier. I would be with them. You've condemned me though.
When I finally get my rest, I won't be with them. See, muggles have this concept of heaven and hell. You do good, you go to heaven, you do bad, you go to hell. And frankly, even if I wanted to change, its too late. I'm too far gone.
And now, I get my freedom. I get free reign.
Soon, on the stroke of midnight, I, Harry James Potter, turn seventeen and you lose what ever feeble control you have over me.
For now, I have only this to say; Let the fun begin and I'll see you in hell.