The war had been over for three weeks.
At least, that's what it said in the papers anyway. For me, though, the battle still raged on.
My war hadn't yet ended. And it wouldn't for quite some time.
I couldn't even consider allowing myself to rest till my task was finished...
As I sat hunched on the ground behind a pile of old crates in the shadows of one of Knockturn's darker alleyways, I second-guessed myself for what must have been the thousandth time.
Was I doing the right thing? Did these people deserve what they got?
I shook my head to clear my mind of any further doubts. Of course they deserved it. What had they ever done for me except ruin my life from the minute I was born? Assholes, the whole lot of them. The only people I knew of that stayed true to themselves over the past eight years were Hermione, Fred, George, Arthur, Neville and Luna. Though, whether they stuck around after the truth finally came out...well, let's just say that I wasn't going to be holding my breath.
The rest of them could just go fuck themselves as far as I was concerned.
A shift in air pressure sent my senses into overdrive. I stood without making a sound and waited for the right moment.
The man, possibly a distant relative of a giant, judging by his size and width, was wearing a thick black cloak over his dark billowing robes.
Good. I enjoyed taking out the 'bad' ones.
My grip tightened when the stranger passed to within arm's reach. Once he had his back turned to mine, I swung my arm with magic-assisted speed and force. The man's head popped off his shoulders with barely a sound as the rest of his body crumpled to the ground. I stared down at the body only long enough to wipe the bigot's blood off my blade.
"Three thousand seven hundred and forty four."
Only a little over a thousand to go...
"I don't understand?" Hermione's eyes were red and puffy, almost to the point of being swollen shut. Tear tracks lined her flushed cheeks as she stared at me in complete confusion.
"I know. And I'm sorry for lying to you all these years. But I make no excuses for myself."
She couldn't stop shaking her head from side to side. "No...no, I don't believe you! It just can't be true!"
Neville came to her side and put his arms around her shoulders. George stood off to the side with Luna wrapped within his arms. Arthur lay unconscious on the couch. He'd live, but there was a chance he'd never walk again. I felt bad about what I'd done, but I just couldn't allow him to take me in. Being thrown into one of their jail cells was completely out of the question.
I sighed for the probably the fifteenth time that night. I knew this day would come, but I never realized how hard it would actually be.
"Why, Harry?" Luna's wavering voice pleaded. "Not only why, but how? How could anyone? You've outdone both Voldemort and Grindelwald combined. It just doesn't...make sense." Her throat closed up as tears flooded her eyes just as Hermione's had. She turned around in George's grip and cried into his chest.
"I can only say I'm sorry so many times. I'm truly sorry for hurting you, but I'm not sorry for what I've done. I'll never regret it. Who knows...maybe I am insane...maybe I'm just as evil as Voldemort...I don't know. But after everything I'd been through, I just didn't feel anything but contempt for the wizarding world. You're the only ones I ever cared about. Everyone else deserved what they got."
Neither Hermione nor Luna could look at me any longer. That, more than anything tore the final remnants of my soul to shreds. George continued to scowl, of course. After all, it was my fault his Dad was still out cold, and it was due to my actions that Fred lost his life last week. He forgave me for that, of course, but after my admission today, I felt that bridge of forgiveness crumbling under intense pressure.
"When then? When did this all start?" Neville, having only gained in the courage and bravery department, took up place as their spokesperson, but only by default as it seemed none of the others could bring themselves to speak.
I turned toward the window and stared out into the evening sky. "Third year actually, though I can't place the blame on any single event. Gradually throughout the whole year I began to see the magical world in a different light. But for the most part...it was Snape."
"So the rumor's were true?"
I nodded my head. "I thought it was quite ironic that the collective idiocy of the schools' gossip network actually got their assumptions right for once. Snivvy caught me out after a particularly difficult lesson with Moony. He couldn't resist confronting me about being out after curfew..."
"You never cease to amaze me, Potter. Do you really think you're above the rules that the rest of us 'normal folk' are required to follow? Do you think you have the right to go wherever you please, whenever you please?"
I was already pretty worked up from the practice session I'd just had with Remus. Halfway through which I came to the realization that my happy memories amounted to nothing more than teardrops in an ocean of pain and sorrow. When the lesson was over, my sadness quickly turned to resentment.
When Hagrid had first told me I was a wizard, my eyes were opened to a whole new world of possibilities. But in the three years that I'd lived among my supposed 'kind', my life really hadn't improved as much as I'd hoped it would. Quirrell in first year, the Diary in second, the Dementors. I went from being a Muggle housemaid to the wizarding world's new plaything. The fact that the Dursleys had all-of-a-sudden started looking like a safer and more peaceful option made me angry beyond belief. And Snape's presence was the last thing I was in the mood for, so I snapped. "Get the hell out of my face! I don't give a shit what you think!"
The bastard smirked. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for your cheek and detention with Filch on Saturday for breaking curfew. And I suggest..."
"I'm not going."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, I'm not going. And take as many fucking points as you want, I don't give a flying shit! Take a thousand points! Who gives a fuck about god damn house points!" In my head I was truly debating why house points mattered. Why OWL's and NEWT's mattered. Why anything mattered when I was living day-to-day with the fear of being murdered by some deranged maniac.
My hand must have drifted subconsciously to my wand because his hand reached out and grabbed me by the collar, pulling me so that our noses were nearly touching. "Go ahead, Potter. Give me an excuse to make your life a living hell. There's plenty I can do that won't leave any long-lasting evidence."
He was threatening me, with torture, no less. And he was telling me he had the means to get away with it without anyone ever finding out. I stared into his beady eyes for a few seconds before something broke free, something from the deepest, darkest corner of my subconscious mind.
I didn't have to listen to him. I didn't have to listen to any of them. What had they ever done for me? When have they ever earned my respect?
Who killed my parents? Who nearly killed me at the end of First and Second year? Who placed me with the Dursleys? Who got jealous because I had fame that I didn't want? Who fawned over me just because I was the subject of a dozen over-embellished children's books? Who turned on me after I called that bloody snake off? Who tried to wipe my memory? Who was a constant thorn in my side almost every day of my life at Hogwarts? Had anything really changed after finding out I was a wizard? It seemed more like things had actually gotten worse! Their newspaper openly prints lies about me just to sell copies! And they do this to their supposed savior?
Why isn't Voldemort being attacked like this?
And what will happen when he finally figures out how to return someday? But of course! They'll all expect me to save them...yet again! While they laze around with their magic wands expecting everything to be handed to them on a shining silver platter!
Well, I say fuck that! Fuck em all!
Snape must have recognized a change in my expression. His grip on my collar loosened as one of his eyebrows rose in question. My eyes never left his, though the corridor around me seemed to take on a reddish hue. "I'm taking you to the Headmaster. He can deal with you. I've got better things to do."
When his arm reached out again to pull on mine, my hand - seemingly moving with a mind of it's own - reached into my bag and pulled out a potions knife. Before Snape could figure out what I was doing, I lunged forward and buried the knife in his neck, directly under his chin, up to the hilt.
"Fuck you asshole! And fuck the rest of this world too!"
Hermione ran from the room, followed quickly by Luna. George took a moment to look at me, first with a scowl, then with an expression of pity and shame, before following the girls out. Arthur stirred at their loud cries, but still hadn't woken up. Neville stood stock-still with his arms folded over his chest. He couldn't stop shaking his head in disbelief every few seconds.
"I'm not even sure what to say, Harry."
"Goodbye, most likely. None of you will probably ever want to see me again."
Neville continued after a few awkward moments of silence. "Would you have killed Gran if she were still alive?"
"No." I turned away, unable keep eye contact.
"Why not? I know she's done plenty of questionable things in her life. Definitely more than someone like, say, Tracy Davis?"
I felt a small amount of pride that he seemed to have correctly pegged me as Davis' killer. But I had no response for him. I probably would have killed Augusta if she hadn't died naturally a few years ago.
Her stubbornness toward keeping to the old ways led to corruption within the Ministry and within the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Which led directly to the deaths of more than a few innocent adults and children.
At my lack of response, Neville seemed to have recognized the lie. He let a quick expression of anger run across his face before schooling it back to neutrality. "I think it'd probably be best if you left, for Hermione and Luna's sake if nothing else. You do realize that you've practically broken their spirit with this, right?"
"I do." I knew exactly how they felt.
"Then you should go. And I'd advise against ever returning. Live out your days somewhere where you don't have to lie to the people that love you. That is unless you're planning on returning as the next Dark Lord or something?"
"I'll never become like him. You don't have to worry about that."
"Yeah, well, you could have fooled me, Harry."
I could have made excuses to him. I could have said that I hadn't actually killed EVERYONE I came in contact with. I made sure that whoever died actually deserved it before ending their life. If a magical being's actions or inactions caused the death of another innocent being... then they deserved death themselves. It wasn't my fault that the majority of Great Britain's magical population was petty, immoral and corrupt. At first it had been all too easy. Death Eaters, thugs, criminals, cheaters, bullies. For those first few years, my targets were easy profiles that left no doubt that they deserved what they got. But as the years went on, finding corruption became increasingly difficult with each and every kill. The months leading up to the final kill were spent mostly on research and surveillance into the last three names on the list. Two out of the three were eventually executed.
In the end, leaving the innocent alive amounted to roughly six hundred witches, wizards and squibs, the majority of them being under aged children. About fifty to a hundred adults were mixed in with the group.
Yes, I could have made excuses...I could have pled my case with rational logic, with rock solid evidence that supported each and every death...but it wouldn't have done any good at this point anyway.
My task was already complete, and there was no going back.
There wasn't really much else to say, so we stared at each other for a few more moments before I began to gather my things.
I was at the door reaching for the handle before he finally spoke up again.
"It's nice to know there's still some human left in you."
He must have caught sight of the tear that escaped my left eye a moment ago.
"If you ever choose to come back for any reason. Contact me first. No one else." He left no room for debate, even though he knew I could easily get back into the country whenever I wanted. I nodded in response.
"Take care of them Neville." The six of them had become a pretty close-knit group over the last couple years. No matter how bad I hurt them, I still wanted them to be happy.
"They both love you, you know. Or at least they did...before."
I stopped short of the threshold. Of all the things I'd imagined him saying, that wasn't even remotely close. I turned my head back with a questioning gaze.
"They both promised each other to hold off on pursuing you until the killer was found. They even drew names to see who would be allowed to ask you out first. I believe Luna won."
I'd done my best to keep them close while avoiding the temptation of romantic involvement. I knew that the truth would come out one day, and I knew it would break their hearts, so I did my best to try and keep my distance. But what Neville said threw me for a loop. Apparently I hadn't kept far enough away.
"Didn't figure that into your plans, did you?"
"No."
"Well, until you can bring yourself out of that black and white world you live in, they're still not in your plans. Get my drift?"
I could only nod in response as my chest constricted pain. It seemed there was still a small part of my heart that hadn't turned to ice.
"I never thought I'd say anything like this in my life, Harry but...I think I prefer the lie over the truth. At least in this case."
"So do I, Neville. So do I."
And with one final farewell nod, I turned and left, shutting the door behind me.
Two days later, I caught a flight out of London, leaving behind what was left of the British wizarding world to rebuild their society from the ground up...
Hopefully for the better.
END