I am a murderer. Everyone around me dies because of me. My mother died. My father

died. Cedric died...Sirius died. His death is on my head. It was my fault that I did not use

Occlumency to block the dreams. It was my fault that I trusted that house- elf, Kreacher. It

was my fault Sirius is not here, with me. I saw his eyes. His dark eyes which used to be

twinkling with laughter and glowing affection are now empty and cold. They will remain

to look lifeless and uncaring for all eternity. His eyes haunt me. I saw the shock on his

face of being caught off-guard by Bellatrix Lestrange. If it were not for me, Sirius would

be alive. I am the one who rushed into the Department of Mysteries because of a mere

dream. I am the one who caused Sirius and the other members of the Order to come to

save me. I am the one who killed Sirius. I killed him. I killed one of the people who cared

for me. His death hangs over me, like a dark cloud. I am sorry, Sirius. I do not expect you

to forgive me. I do not want you to forgive me, because I know--I know I will never be

able to forgive myself.

Harry Potter