A video flickers as it comes into view. A faint whir is heard in the background.
Harry pulls his hand back. "Ah. It's on." He smiles, a warm twinkle in his eyes.
"I don't know why I'm doing this, exactly. Hell, I might be going insane." He pauses then, his mouth stretching into an involuntary grin as if sharing an inside joke.
"Ron and Hermione left a while ago. Ah, I don't even blame them. Ron was under the influence of the locket and Hermione only left 'cause I convinced her to. To follow Ron so he doesn't lose himself. Noble, I know.
"They'll come back, eventually. Of course, they love me. Looooove me. But not me-me, you know?" He paused, then he continued in a light whisper, barely audible over the whirring in the back, "It's okay. I never gave them anything to hate either."

He sighed, "I wouldn't call it a mask, no, most of the time I wasn't even pretending, most of the time they really made me feel alive; it was, I don't know. It's like if you put all of your intense emotions, all- the intense loathing type- hatred in a box. A treasure chest, I call it. And then you dump it into the ocean, under the dark folds of your mind, where even you can forget they even exist. Even to my own mind I've become a person I want to be."

"It was getting suffocating. Now that they have left I feel like I can finally breathe. It's not like I'm not used to having them around all the time, I share a dorm room with Ron. But this is not the same. Even at Hogwarts, there's classes, breaks, and plenty of time where I hide under alcoves, pretending to not exist. There's nothing here. They wake up and all their attention is on me,
'What are you doing, Harry?'
'What's the plan, Harry?'
'What are we going to do now, Harry?'
"Ugh. For some reason I'm the leader, I'm supposed to be knowing everything, and Mr. Harry Potter just can't be sitting around and sulking. I don't know, what I'm going to do. I don't know where the next horcruxes are, I don't even know what the horcruxes are. I'm just here, sitting on a chair and talking to a camera."

He pauses.

"They'll probably be viewing this after I die."

"And I will die. If Voldy shorts doesn't ensure that and I'll finish the job myself.

And then there will only be silence." He trails off.

"Hm," he hums, "How did this came to be? I was not always like this, oh yeah, Mr. Boy-who-won't-fucking-die was once afraid of death. Long ago. But not too long. 9 year old me would gladly embrace death, but with my eyes closed 'cause it still scared me enough to never try it. No, it was not until I was 11- 12, when I finally had something to live for. A whole new wooorldd! Ah! I was soo naive!"

"It was perfect, for me. A brand new world where everyone loves me and I have friends- friends! Friends that loved me, friends that wouldn't leave me for the world...
Friends that would sacrifice me for the greater good."

"Whose?" His eyes trained on the camera again, "Whose greater good are we talking about here?"
"Dumbledore always goes on and on and ON about this 'greater good', but he never mentions whose. Is it his? Mine? Society's? Future generations? What are we, martyrs? Society is fucked up, and will always suffer in one way or the other. Dumbledore never considers that, oh no, he is a war general before he is a headmaster. He doesn't care of a few of his pawns dying on the chess board, as long as we capture the king. He doesn't mind checkmating with a deserted chessboard. And that's exactly what would happen. People would die: the light, the dark, the innocent, the selfish- they will die. Sure, so will Volder and I but you know. That's the point. Dumbledore always intended for me to die, so does it really matter if I suffered through it? Who cares, he's gonna die anyway.
I had begged, and begged for him to let me stay during the summer vacations, but nope. I couldn't go to Ron's nor Hermione's but in the only place he thought I would be safe."

"Well not so safe if I kill myself, would I be?"

He draws in a shaky breath, and raises his hand to press the heel of his palm against his eyes.

"...didn't kill them. Even I wonder sometimes why I didn't kill them. They hate me, treat me like trash, and still I let them live? When I killed this dude in fifth year just 'cause he was annoying? Not annoying per say, but he really made my life hell, but that's beside the point.

"I just- I can't. It's not the same. I have tried, to imagine ways, not like childhood daydreams but like actual plans, but I- Look. I could say and be all logical that the first person they would've suspected is me and blah blah, but that's not true, is it? In fact, nobody would suspect me, except maybe the ministry and Umbridge and Fudge because they hate me, but yeah, nobody would suspect me evidence wise. Probably some death eater and maybe I could figure out a way to fake the dark mark over the house. I'm rambling, maybe they would suspect me, they all seem to do so for crimes I hadn't even committed- so what's so different here?"

"It's stupid. I'm stupid, but I can't. Maybe if someone else was torturing them I could sit back and enjoy, without their blood on my hands. But I couldn't do so myself. No, because it would be proving all that they said about me. I would ruin them, just like they say I am. I want someone else to ruin them. I can't- I don't know."

"The dude I killed in fifth year, can't say his name 'cause I did this ritual where he is wiped from existence until I say his name. Oh yeah, Harry Potter doing more than he is expected to?! Harry Potter actually competent in magic?! False, he doesn't know anything except expelliamus.

"I haven't even taken runes. Why? 'Cause Ron didn't take it, and I wanted to take all the same subjects as Ron. Dumb, even for a 13 year old, but I was willing to revolve my life around them; if I'd taken different classes, I can't bear the thought of drifting apart. I've always had this thing for Runes anyway. Even before I discovered I was a wizard. In fiction, and stuff.

"Ah I haven't read a book in forever. I used to love fiction novels."

"The name, I remember it, it's on the tip of my tongue, but really, he's best forgotten. But oh Harry, who are you to decide who deserves to live? Well let me ask you something, who gave this right to Dumbledore? And then should Voldemoan be left alive? We all want him dead. Pucker up and take some responsibility."

"The dead are always perfect. Angels, taken too soon. They say this for everyone, regardless. And once I used to believe the same for my parents."
"Because it's just so convenient, isn't it? Right, the two people I don't know are perfect and would've loved me unconditionally. And maybe if they did, then I wouldn't have ended up like this."

He sighed.

"It was a quick death. And not premeditated. I was near the lake, towards the back, where you can't be seen from the castle, and he strutted near. It's not like a school rival thing, I wouldn't kill Malfoy- really, he's too pathetic to die. But him, I don't know, strong hatred only blossomed near forth year. He sided with Ron, when we had that argument that left me feeling so alone- the argument that made me realize that maybe, I can't be this dependent on my friends. Ron was my pillar, and when he crumbled I fell flat on the floor. And then he came back but I knew better than to lean on him with my whole weight. The guy, he was with Ron, alright. Feeding him lies, and encouraging him to hate me even more. Causing a rift between best friends."

"I hate the dude, but I hate how Ron let him. I created this perfect person for Ron, and if he didn't even like him, then I didn't know what to do."

"He came there then, by the lake, and sat beside me. I hate him, and I hate how he pretends to be my friend. He doesn't even know the first letter of friend. Liars. Frauds, FAKES. And he started talking. About how he doesn't understand why I bother lying about this stuff, and to just own it. That I killed Cedric. I'm owning now, about the people I've killed, and Cedric was not one of them."
"But they thought I was lying. And he came to me, and gave me advice. To own it. So that Umbridge maybe stops torturing me."

"It hit the wrong way, but not like enough to see red. Eh, call it teenage hormones or whatever but I wasn't going down without a fight. I got up, to march back to the castle in silent fury and then sulk in my room about how alone I really was, but then he grabbed my wrist, and held me back. Motherfucker asked me sincerely if I really killed Cedric. And for shits and giggles I asked him, 'what if I did?'"

He laughed, his voice ringing, "That did it! That showed him! That dick! He withdrew his hand as if it burnt him and then... and then!"
His head rolled back as he laughed until he was left clutching his stomach and gasping for air.

"Oh... Yeah he started insulting me then, like the scum I was, and then he raised his wand, and I asked him if he was going to hex me, and he went damn right he should. I dodged the hex, of course, and raised my wand too. And THEN! Oh then..."

He voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned closer to the camera, "He asked me, 'What are you doing to do? Kill me?' Ah! It just clicked, you know! And he basically asked me to do it for him! But I didn't use my wand. God forbid it's tracked like crazy. No, I used the dagger, the dagger I always keep up my sleeves."

He leaned back on his chair, a smile still ghosting on his lips, eyes glinting with hysterics. He raised his right arm and pulled the sleeve back to show a black strap wrapped around his forearm. In one loop hung a long wooden wand. In the under a metal that glinted under the ceiling light. He pulled the latter out, and held it in front of the camera. A green and silver dagger. A green serpent was wrapped around the hilt, head stretched out in a hiss. The dagger itself was triangular, with lines around the dagger where the silver metal didn't shine.
Where the blood wasn't cleaned off properly.

"It's not in anyway related to Slytherin, if that's what you're thinking. I got this from Henry. Oh I hate Henry. I think I hate Henry more than Voldermor- FUC- him. Voldy-cords might have ruined my future life, but Henry was ruining my present. I think Henry was more fucked up than me. Insane, he was. He got this knife to carve his name on my flesh. Obviously he didn't get around to do it 'cause I killed him with his own weapon. I remember him pleading, but I'll get to Henry later."

"Yeah, so I killed that guy in fifth year with this knife. Didn't even think about it. Just struck it at the side of his neck. Major veins and arteries- Venae cavae and Aorta goes through at the side of the neck. You punched those and you die from blood loss. Ugh, I used to love biology. Why can't magic school teach anything bodily related?"

"And then he bled alright. He was shocked, so shocked he blanched. He sputtered, too shocked to speak- or scream. I loved it. I won't be noble and say I didn't. I loved it, I drank his expression under the sun, and the way his blood spurt over my knife, and over my knuckles..."

"I didn't hold it there for long, though it may seem so they way I'm describing, but yeah, it was only a second. I grabbed his tie, the yellow one I'll tell ya that. Oh yes! Evil Hufflepuffs! Justice for Hufflepuffs! Shut the fuck up.
"I grabbed his tie, and turned my back towards the lake, and fell, backwards. I pulled him down with me, under the water, as his blood stained the azure reflection of the sky. I pulled him towards me as we sank. I sink like a log in water, hated it in elementary school, where they would make fun of me drowning, but it was damn pretty useful here. I think I forgot to breathe, I was under water for so long. I pulled him towards me and I stabbed his back, sticking the dagger deep into his back. He struggled a bit but was too weak by then."

Harry appeared to be deep in thought, with his half lidded eyes gazing into empty space and his dagger tracing his jaw, and over his lips. "Hm...I remember still. The frustration I felt. The dagger was not deep enough, it wasn't doing any relishing damage. I wanted to pull his corpse to an empty classroom and rip him to shreds," He takes a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. "Sorry, got carried away there. But I couldn't do anything. The blood attracted the squid, and it was all I could do to not get eaten myself."

"So yes, Harry Potter killed a guy and fed him to the squid. I had ran up, dripping wet, I should've used a drying charm but I used all my functioning brain cells to wash off the blood, I ran and I ran, Hermione asked me what's wrong and I told her Malfoy threw me in the lake, she didn't believe me but let me go and then I got this book out. I found that book back in Grimmauld Place, nasty library they have back there, but I loved it. Anyway, I found this ritual, to wipe someone completely from existence. It was pretty advanced, but I did it anyway.

"And now he doesn't exist anymore."

He stopped talking, looking straight at the camera with blank eyes as the whirring continued in the background. It stayed that way for quite a while, until he clicked his tongue and reached for the screen, as it flickered shut.