I lay on the cot in the infirmary, staring at the ceiling and reflecting on the past week. I was about to die. I knew it. But I like to think that I helped in the defeat of the Dark Lord. You come to me, grasp my hand in yours, and stare at me, no, into me. Maybe now you can finally figure out that I’ve been your ally all these years instead of your enemy. I ask you what happened and you describe every gruesome detail.
I had been standing near the edge of a high cliff, cornered there by Lucius and a small group of the deadliest Death Eaters. You were behind them, near a path leading down the cliff. I heard shouts and saw your friends approach the scene. I raised my wand and sent a bolt of green light towards Lucius. I missed by an inch or so and had blown up a piece of the countryside. This started a short skirmish between the two sides in which all the Death Eaters besides Lucius fell (how the hell does he keep dodging Death?).
Lucius knew his time had come, but instead of surrendering, he raised his wand and cursed me. On instinct I cursed him back, our attacks landing simultaneously. My curse struck him in his heart, while I managed to move just enough to dodge a life- threatening hit. The force of Lucius’ curse threw me off the cliff. The stakes below felt like the teeth of some massive animal as I hit them. You had rushed to my side and began lifting me off the stakes. I had tried to convince you otherwise, but you would have none of it. You had carried me up the mountain where I was somehow transported to the Hogwarts infirmary.
And the infirmary is where I now lay, waiting to die. I tell you something I have wanted to tell you for so long. Three simple words.
“I love you.”
“I don’t understand,” You say.
“Of course you don’t. You’re the only one who wouldn’t. Understand this, though.” I take one last look into your emerald eyes before lifting myself, ignoring the intense pain that shoots through my back and arms, and placing a kiss upon your forehead. I lay back, glimpse tears welling up in your eyes, and fall into blackness.
I like to think that I helped defeat the Dark Lord. Lucius had been his second-in-command after I defected, and after he died the Dark Lord lost it. Lost the war, too. I like to think that by helping you, I helped kill that madman and repay my debt to your parents.
I like to think I mattered.