All is Right in the World

Disclaimer: All of this is based upon the lovely J.K. Rowling's work.

(…): Random thoughts or ideas

Italics: Thoughts and emphasis

He's in there, you know. He, my son, is just a room away. I could go in there and see him, speak to him, hold him … just tell him how very sorry I truly am.

I could go but I am so very afraid. He knows the truth now. He has freed me from the backstabbing, machinating Headmaster.

And yet, I am afraid that he will never be able to forgive me. I am afraid he won't forgive me for not being strong enough, for not being able to resist. I am just a bloody coward … like I have always been.

I know in my head that it is, was, and never will be my fault. Yet, my heart knows differently. It knows that when he really and truly needed me the most, I failed my son. And everyday, every time I look at him, every time I see him sad or frightened or angry… I will remember that I am nothing but a failure.

I just wasn't strong enough to stand against the Headmaster. I wasn't strong enough to help my own son.

They say that when you are under Imperious it is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. You are free and exhilarated. You don't have a care in the world. You just do whatever you are told.

And all of this is true. I have had Imperious cast on me before and it felt just like that. But the curse the Headmaster cast on me was nothing like that. No feeling of freedom. No exhilaration. No care free attitude. You are aware of everything that goes on around you.

Imperious can be fought. Imperious can be conquered. But I wasn't under Imperious. I was under something ten thousand times worse.

I was aware of everything. I knew exactly what I was doing. I was aware of every hateful world, of every betraying action. But I just couldn't stop myself.

I was doing all sorts of horrible, unforgivable things… and deep inside I was screaming at myself to stop.

But I just couldn't.

There was no bliss. There was no freedom. I was in a body, my body, but I was trapped. I was forced to watch as I (but not really me) did unspeakable things and I could do nothing to stop myself. I was forced into things that I never would have chosen on my own. Little Nymphie… Great Maker knows that there was no way in seven hells that I ever would have chosen her. And yet I was forced to… I was forced to do things that I wish that I could forget, things that (if I am to retain any degree of sanity) I need to forget…

I hurt my son in the worst ways imaginable. It was me … but it wasn't really me. It was my body doing all these things but my heart and my mind and my soul were all begging for it to stop.

I hurt my son in the worst possible ways and I am afraid that he will never forgive me, for I will never be able to forgive myself.

And my brother, Sirius, I betrayed him as well even though I thought him dead at the time. I didn't even know he was alive until he freed me. I was in my home (the home I shared with her) in the still cursed state where my body went through all the motions with my soul trapped inside.

One minute I was about to engage in things with her that would have surely sent my sanity to the breaking point… and the next I was finally free, truly free, and she was lying in a bloody, broken heap on the floor. Much of what happened afterwards is a blur. All I remember is a weepy reunion with my brother and a much needed comeuppance with a certain Metamorph.

As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold. The Headmaster would do to remember that…

…After an eternity of brooding and berating myself I hear the door open. I look up and there he is. Sirius is standing directly behind him, hands on my son's shoulders like he is afraid that my son might try to run away. Red-rimmed emerald eyes stare at the floor.

"Harry." I whisper and he finally looks at me. I rise from the chair I have brooded in for the last hour. "Harry, I am…" I try but I can't say it. "I am so …"

Emerald eyes stare at me and he steps closer; Sirius remains by the door. He walks toward me slowly, not saying anything. He now stands in front of me gazing into my eyes as though searching for answers.

I try to say the words again and I finally succeed, "I am so very … sorry. I am sorry … my son." I look at him hopefully but all I receive is a blank look. "I shouldn't ask you this, not after all I have done, but could you … I mean … can you ever forgive me?"

An eternity in a second passes as he blinks and then smiles, "I already have."

I exhale and the world becomes hazy due to tears. My son and my brother are here with me. I am free. I have vengeance. I am forgiven…

All is right in my world.

Ever Hopeful,

Azar