Disclaimer: Can I stop writing these yet? Anyways, HP isn't mine. The
idea for this story actually came from Diary of a Murderer by squaredancer.
So without further ado,
Perfect
Everyone has a fatal flaw.
Some weakness that can and most likely will bring about their downfall.
The Ancient Greeks had a word for it: hamartia.
I know I have a fatal flaw
Because I'm already fallen.
I used to feel like I was on top of the world
Now I feel like the world is on top of me, crushing me into tiny pieces of oblivion.
I used to have the best friends in the world who would never let me down nor betray me, even if it meant the death of themselves and all their loved ones
Now my company only consists of backstabbing cutthroats who would kill their mother if they wanted only a tiny little bauble they happened to favor at the moment.
I used to be loved
Now I am only despised, the lowest of the low, the servant to those who serve others.
I know I shouldn't have been weak, but what else could I have done? My friends were all leaving me; Lily was taking away James, even though she had sworn she would never even look at him in a special way, and Remus and Sirius were getting all wrapped up in their own worlds. Remus was sinking even deeper into his books, and Sirius still had all the girls hanging onto his every word.
I was left alone to my own devices.
I didn't want to be.
All my life, I have had people telling me what to do, what to say, where to be, what to wear, even what to smell like.
My mum was a prostitute. I supposed having all those men telling her what to do gave her the desire to order me around, so she would be able to have control over at least one male.
Then I went to Hogwarts. I was so incredibly frightened when I first got there. Perhaps then I would have to think for myself. I wouldn't know what to do: I had never had to think for myself before.
Then, I met up with James, Sirius, and Remus. They were great friends; they were always there for me, encouraging me, helping me with schoolwork, trying to give me confidence when it came to girls, just being great friends. They still ordered me around, but I really didn't care. Someone was telling me what to do again, and all was right with the world; I didn't have to do any thinking for myself, it was already done for me.
But my friends withdrew from me. And there was no one there to provide the structure, the backbone, the brain, that I so desperately needed. Everyone was off running their own lives again, and I was left in the dust with no one there to help me.
It's hard to explain what I felt like: all my life, I had never had to think for myself. Then, all of a sudden, I have to decide everything, from the socks I wear, to when I have to do my homework, what I'm going to eat during breakfast, everything is just thrown onto me to decide.
I couldn't deal with it.
I had to find someone who would think for me so the strain of taking care of myself would no longer be my responsibility. I had to find myself guts, a spine, a brain, to take care of myself.
I found Voldemort.
When I first turned to him, I never expected him to ask me to do anything; I just thought he needed followers, just numbers on his side. After all, I knew I was useless without someone else telling me what to do. I knew for a fact I would never be able to think on my own without someone else's opinions influencing mine. How would Voldemort ever be able to make use of something as pathetic as myself?
But make use he did.
He tortured me until I was babbling all of my secrets out into the night, where his ears heard all. I told them about the girl Sirius was presently seeing, I told them about the way James made puppy eyes at Lily whenever he saw her, I told them about the way that Remus always dove into books whenever a certain girl walked around, I told them about James and Lily's wedding-to-be, and more importantly, I told them about what their plans were for the future, a family.
Most importantly, I told them where the Potters were when I could finally hand them in, the prized package that just might make me loved. By that time, I was no longer dependent on the Marauders; I was firmly ensconced within the darkness with my Master Voldemort. I believed that the Marauders had deserted me, that they no longer cared about me. I know now that it's not true, that they would always have looked out for me. In a choice between Harry and myself, James would have taken the third option and found a way to save all of us. They never loved me any less because I was no longer a part of their lives.
But I was too pitifully weak to see that, so I betrayed James and his family as effectively as I could the first chance I got.
I gave them Harry.
Now I wish I could take it back.
But I can't.
I don't know what to do.
Before I mentioned a fatal flaw.
I was never able to think for myself, I was a mindless little drone that was constantly trying to find a master to take care of it.
My only flaw is insecurity: if anyone withdraws from my life for even an instant, they have left me and I no longer have them anymore, nor do they have me.
The only thing to do that I can think of is to say farewell, and to plunge into the darkness where they will be waiting, with open arms, and liberal wands, once again to the only place I deserve to go.
I have tried to explain myself, and perhaps justify what I have done, but I know it is impossible.
Farewell.
Perfect
Everyone has a fatal flaw.
Some weakness that can and most likely will bring about their downfall.
The Ancient Greeks had a word for it: hamartia.
I know I have a fatal flaw
Because I'm already fallen.
I used to feel like I was on top of the world
Now I feel like the world is on top of me, crushing me into tiny pieces of oblivion.
I used to have the best friends in the world who would never let me down nor betray me, even if it meant the death of themselves and all their loved ones
Now my company only consists of backstabbing cutthroats who would kill their mother if they wanted only a tiny little bauble they happened to favor at the moment.
I used to be loved
Now I am only despised, the lowest of the low, the servant to those who serve others.
I know I shouldn't have been weak, but what else could I have done? My friends were all leaving me; Lily was taking away James, even though she had sworn she would never even look at him in a special way, and Remus and Sirius were getting all wrapped up in their own worlds. Remus was sinking even deeper into his books, and Sirius still had all the girls hanging onto his every word.
I was left alone to my own devices.
I didn't want to be.
All my life, I have had people telling me what to do, what to say, where to be, what to wear, even what to smell like.
My mum was a prostitute. I supposed having all those men telling her what to do gave her the desire to order me around, so she would be able to have control over at least one male.
Then I went to Hogwarts. I was so incredibly frightened when I first got there. Perhaps then I would have to think for myself. I wouldn't know what to do: I had never had to think for myself before.
Then, I met up with James, Sirius, and Remus. They were great friends; they were always there for me, encouraging me, helping me with schoolwork, trying to give me confidence when it came to girls, just being great friends. They still ordered me around, but I really didn't care. Someone was telling me what to do again, and all was right with the world; I didn't have to do any thinking for myself, it was already done for me.
But my friends withdrew from me. And there was no one there to provide the structure, the backbone, the brain, that I so desperately needed. Everyone was off running their own lives again, and I was left in the dust with no one there to help me.
It's hard to explain what I felt like: all my life, I had never had to think for myself. Then, all of a sudden, I have to decide everything, from the socks I wear, to when I have to do my homework, what I'm going to eat during breakfast, everything is just thrown onto me to decide.
I couldn't deal with it.
I had to find someone who would think for me so the strain of taking care of myself would no longer be my responsibility. I had to find myself guts, a spine, a brain, to take care of myself.
I found Voldemort.
When I first turned to him, I never expected him to ask me to do anything; I just thought he needed followers, just numbers on his side. After all, I knew I was useless without someone else telling me what to do. I knew for a fact I would never be able to think on my own without someone else's opinions influencing mine. How would Voldemort ever be able to make use of something as pathetic as myself?
But make use he did.
He tortured me until I was babbling all of my secrets out into the night, where his ears heard all. I told them about the girl Sirius was presently seeing, I told them about the way James made puppy eyes at Lily whenever he saw her, I told them about the way that Remus always dove into books whenever a certain girl walked around, I told them about James and Lily's wedding-to-be, and more importantly, I told them about what their plans were for the future, a family.
Most importantly, I told them where the Potters were when I could finally hand them in, the prized package that just might make me loved. By that time, I was no longer dependent on the Marauders; I was firmly ensconced within the darkness with my Master Voldemort. I believed that the Marauders had deserted me, that they no longer cared about me. I know now that it's not true, that they would always have looked out for me. In a choice between Harry and myself, James would have taken the third option and found a way to save all of us. They never loved me any less because I was no longer a part of their lives.
But I was too pitifully weak to see that, so I betrayed James and his family as effectively as I could the first chance I got.
I gave them Harry.
Now I wish I could take it back.
But I can't.
I don't know what to do.
Before I mentioned a fatal flaw.
I was never able to think for myself, I was a mindless little drone that was constantly trying to find a master to take care of it.
My only flaw is insecurity: if anyone withdraws from my life for even an instant, they have left me and I no longer have them anymore, nor do they have me.
The only thing to do that I can think of is to say farewell, and to plunge into the darkness where they will be waiting, with open arms, and liberal wands, once again to the only place I deserve to go.
I have tried to explain myself, and perhaps justify what I have done, but I know it is impossible.
Farewell.