30 June 1997,
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill him. And now he’s going to kill me and my father and my mother and everyone. But I can just say that it wasn't my fault, say that he’s too powerful, too skilled. I mean how can a 15 year old boy kill the great Albus Dumbledore. The Dark Lord should know of his power, right?
What was the Dark Lord thinking when he gave me this task? I didn’t want to do this, I shouldn’t be doing this. I know he punished me for what my father did. He said if I didn’t kill Dumbledore he would kill my parents as he carved the mark into my hand. Did he forget I was 15. I guess it doesn't matter to him.
Everything went according to plan. I fixed the Vanishing Cabinet and also made sure Potter didn’t know what I was doing. It was going well and it would have ended well if I had just uttered those words. Just two words. He was at my mercy, he was weak at the time and I had his wand. So why couldn’t I say it. Just say ‘Avada Kedavra’ and it would be all over.
But his words caught me. He was right, I didn’t have to do this. It was wrong for me to do this. I could’ve taken his hand but I became frozen in the spot and then Aunty Bella and other Death Eaters came…
Snape killed Dumbledore in the end. I watched as he said the words, so effortlessly. Maybe it was me, maybe I’m not like my father. Maybe I can’t be what they want me to be.
I think Potter was there, I guess he saw everything. I don’t blame him for blaming me. I blame myself. Blame that I couldn’t do it. Blame that my parents could die because of this and blame that I should have listened to Dumbledore.
At dinner I couldn’t look anyone in the eye. They didn’t know it was me up there. Everyone was devastated when they heard the news. They blamed Snape when it should’ve been me! Potter understood though, he did try to punish me. ‘Sectumsempra’ that was the spell, I’ll keep that in mind.
It will be the Headmaster's funeral in a few days. I’m wondering if I should go. I’m guilty but I can’t show that or they’ll know about the truth and the mark. Ah! The Dark Mark is going to forever haunt me now.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this, they say it helps. It helps to see things clearer, to keep yourself in check. It helps with your emotions. I don’t even know what my feelings were or are or if I had any.
I’m dreading the holidays. I can just imagine his face and those dark eyes. Asking about what happened. No not asking, demanding. What will I say, that I was too cowardly, too scared or can I just say I didn’t want to do it. Will I be ever able to stand up to him, to myself?
Comments
Post a Comment