Part one: Prelude
Entry two: The Reason
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Recap
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Choices made.
Promises broken.
Alliances made.
Families broken.
Let go.
Let live.
He who looses so much,
must be prepared to loose more.
If we are to survive,
a veil of shadows must descend.
And we who suffer little
must share his pain.
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End Recap
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Dipping his black ink quill, Harry Potter pulled out a piece of parchment paper and held his quill poised, thinking. How to start? He could recount the whole thing, and give his reason there, hidden within the retelling of how this came to be. Or, he could be frank. Perhaps he should give a mysterious note, giving little clues and lead them on, just for fun. Hmm. Bringing down the quill, Harry began.
One month previous today, my beloved godfather Sirus Black died. To the general populace, he was a psychopathy murder. Not much evidence defended him, but perhaps my word, long after he's really gone, will convince the rest of us, that Sirus Black was no murderer. He was a loving and wronged person.
Peter Pettigrew was the real murderer. He was an accomplice of Tom Marvelo Riddle, or as many and most will know him as; Voldemort, the dark lord. Faking his own death, leaving only a finger, Peter escaped by way of his animagius form; a rat. Later, he was discovered to be the pet of the unsuspecting Ronald Weasley. However, he escaped death and fled back to his master.
Back to one month prior. My godfather was the only real family I had left. Oh, yes. The Dursleys. I would not call them family, as my first thirteen years were spent living on dinner scraps, doing every chore thought imaginable, living in a closet the size of my arms outstretched in each direction and receiving beating punishments when I so as spoke without being spoken to. My life was truly that of a "hero". Malnourishment is just what a growing baby needs.
I am not looking for pity, believe me. I am not looking for a way out from my problems, sympathy or any more fame. My words are a statement of truth. And because of these words, I find that even though I have many friends, their words have become just a pillar of support to keep the weight of my life from crumbling out from under me. Some people are selfish. Some people are spoiled. Some people can be saved. I am not selfish, that I know of, and I was most certainly not spoiled. I also believe I am past saving.
If this action is taken as selfish, then perhaps I truly am. My apologies, I just felt someone should know the truth. If anyone at all, it be those I leave behind.
Harry hesitated briefly, before setting it aside to dry and grabbing a fresh paper. This one he thought longer about. Apologies meant nothing to the dead, and sometimes they meant less to the living.
To my friends; all of Gryfindor, many of Hufflepuff and a few in Ravencalw: My apology is public and for you as well as the rest of the world.
To my friends Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Ronald Weasley and Gryfindor whom I was closer with: You all tried your best to save me and I am forever in your debt. My loss is not one to be mourned. Know I love each and every one of you for how you've helped me, doubted me, stood by me and been yourselves for me through each and every year. My sacrifice is selfish and you should not blame yourselves.
To Dumbledore and the teachers: You all taught wonderfully, and I was honored to be your student. Even you, Professor Snape.
To the one and only Draco Malfoy: You were the best archenemy anyone could ever be. Though you may not know it, you were there for me more than anyone else. Every insult you threw only soldified whatever was my determination at any time. Searing gray eyes brought back my spirit and you were someone I strived to better myself with, by. You were an idol I secretly wanted to be, in just a little sense. You were always so self-sure, so confident. I envied you. Your money, your popularity, somewhat truer than mine, and your friendship was something I only turned down because you insulted the first friend I'd ever made in my life. Over again, I'd accept it. Believe me. I'm sorry I couldn't save you, like I wish I could have. You, more than anyone, please forgive me.
And, to everyone: Divide my things among yourselves as you see fit, except for Hedwig. She's my best friend and she deserves to go to the one person important enough in retrospect. Draco Malfoy, take good care of my owl, won't you? You slimy git, she's a bit temperamental, just like you.
"That's good enough." Harry muttered. "I've gotten everyone of importance, now I just need to..." Looking to the side, Harry unlatched Hedwig's cage and blew gently on the letters. Drying them. Once they were safe to roll up the boy-who-lived did so, and tied them neatly. Harry's deep green eyes met Hedwig's.
"Bring this to Dumbledore sometime tomorrow afternoon would you?"
A soft hoot.
"Thanks girl, I'll miss you." Running his hand through Hedwig's white feathers affectionately, Harry gave a ghost of a smile. "I'll miss you a lot."
Hedwig hooted again and lifted her wings gracefully. Out the window she flew, like the ghost of any emotion or love Harry might have left in his empty, glass heart. Off she went. To deliver the letters and now, off Harry went to follow in the footsteps of his most influential person. Sirus Black.