Painfully Innocent

Painfully Innocent

The guard asked me yesterday night if I regretted my life. I didn't respond then, but I haven't been able to think of anything else since. Do I regret my life? More than you will ever know.

I regret everything. I don't have anyone to blame but myself; I know that, but it doesn't change the disgust I have for myself. I deserve my fate. If only I had not been too weak... If only I had not given up, if only I had had the strength to choose my own path. If only I had had the strength to stay with her.

I'm not stupid. I knew what I was doing, every second of it. I knew that I was sinking lower and lower into evil, but I was so afraid of what would happen were I to get out. To try to leave. I was too weak to fight back when I was a child, too weak to push back the imprinted beliefs, too weak to say yes to her, to weak to say no to him. That's the story of my existence... I was too weak. I am too weak.

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life

Try to make ends meet

You're a slave to money then you die

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

You know the one that takes you to the places

where all the veins meet yeah,

I won't pretend that I didn't try to repress my future... which was then rushing towards me at an alarming rate. I did try, and I managed to head off the collision with my fate. It wasn't enough. She wasn't enough. She tried for me. She tried to show me the truth, that I could choose my future, that I didn't have to do what I was meant to do.

I wanted to believe her. But I was too weak, always too weak. I felt so guilty, making her cry for me. She should never cry over me. I'm not worth it. I know I'm not, I know that she was a gift, and that I must surely be the luckiest man in the world to receive such a gift when I have so little value in the world that gave her to me.

I couldn't see the gift when it was right before my eyes, for the longest time. I scorned her, I made her cry, and I took vindictive pleasure in calling her hideous names. Because I was too weak to realize that I was living a lie, that my beliefs were all lies, that what my father told me were all lies.

And when I finally did realize her precious worth, I was too far sunk into my fate, my future. I was too far gone, even though she attempted to bring me back. I did want to come back, to spend my life with her, to try and be good.

I failed because I was too weak to stand up to the irrepressible fear that was embedded in my heart, which she knew but couldn't hope to unlock that most secret part of me, the place I kept my fear and my shame and my self-hatred.

No change, I can change

I can change, I can change

But I'm here in my mold

I am here in my mold

But I'm a million different people

from one day to the next

I can't change my mold

No, no, no, no, no

I deserve my fate. Maybe if they wouldn't think so if they knew the truth, but I know better. I am a bad person, the scum of this earth. I am hated and feared and spit upon, and that is how I know that the world would be a better place were I not in it. A cleaner place. A better place to marry, to raise children, to live.

But I want everyone to know... I never killed anyone. I never tortured anyone. I never committed a crime other than being a terrible person, a person unworthy of contaminating this world. I'm not trying to prove my innocence of the crimes they believe I have done. I just want them to know that I never did them.

Well I never pray

But tonight I'm on my knees yeah

I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah

I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now

But the airways are clean and there's nobody singing to me now

Oh, how I wish that I could touch her again, see her face again. I would give everything I am, everything I ever hoped to be; everything I never was, just to see her again. To kiss her one more time. I don't deserve her. I never did. She was a gift, and I let her go because I was too weak. Even if it was she who gave me that final Kiss, I would be forever grateful.

No change, I can change

I can change, I can change

But I'm here in my mold

I am here in my mold

And I'm a million different people

from one day to the next

I can't change my mold

No, no, no, no, no

I can't change

I can't change

I deserve this. I know I do. I have lived an unworthy life, and it is time for this world to be rid of me.

'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life

Try to make ends meet

Try to find some money then you die

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

You know the one that takes you to the places

where all the things meet yeah

They have started to come in. Each person, as though it is a ritual, stares at me with a look of utter hatred and disgust on their faces. Then they turn away, elated and grinning as they come to witness my end. That is how I know I should die, because they are happy to see me in my final moments. To see me leave this earth. I wish they did not think that I had done those things. I never did.

You know I can change, I can change

I can change, I can change

But I'm here in my mold

I am here in my mold

And I'm a million different people

from one day to the next

I can't change my mold

No, no, no, no, no

And then she comes in, and my breath catches in my throat. I am frozen and I hate myself because she is crying. She is crying and it is my fault. She comes with Potter and Weasley. Her face is tear-streaked, and she turns from my eyes. Oh, how I wish that I could touch her once more.

They read out their charges against me. I look down to my forearm, where that horrible mark is burned into my skin. I don't waste my last moments listening, I stare at the floor. My hands are cruelly bound behind my back; I'm clothed in ragged robes that expose much of my damaged body. My hair is bloody and matted and it hangs over my eyes. I sense her looking at me, I hear her crying.

I can't change my mold

no, no, no, no, no,

I can't change

Can't change my body,

no, no, no

Potter and Weasley try to comfort her. They aren't really trying, though; they're the happiest of all to see me die. It's not a surprise. I was a prat, and I knew it. So obsessed with stuff that didn't matter in the great scheme of things. They never have forgiven me for stealing Hermione from them, anyhow. Especially Weasley. He was smitten with her, and his rage grew to uncharted levels when I took her from him.

My old professors came, too. Dumbledore is sad. I think he knows I'm innocent of those charges. He doesn't know that I deserve it, though; he doesn't know that I should die because I'm a bad person. Snape is emotionless. I didn't expect him to be sad on my behalf. He went through everything I did, and he was strong enough to choose his own path. But I? No, I was too weak. I was too weak.

"Do you have anything you would like to say?" asks the guard harshly.

I nod.

"Go on, then," says the guard, leaning back against the wall and tightening the chain on my bound wrists.

I stare right at Hermione. "I tried not to, Hermione," I say quietly. "I didn't want to. And I want you to know that I never killed anyone. I never tortured anyone. I love you. You're the only one I have ever loved. And I would give anything in the world to touch your face again."

A sob catches in her throat. She knows I am telling the truth. Snape and Dumbledore know, too, but I can only be tried once. "Please, give him Veritaserum!" she cries brokenly. "Please, just let him tell the truth!"

Potter and Weasley quiet her, and I turn my attention to the crowd, the body of people who have begun to doubt themselves.

"I deserve this. If I am hated so much, then I should not exist," I say, raising my voice so it reaches every corner of the foreboding stone room. "And I want to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry to Hermione, for everything I have done and didn't do. I'm sorry to my mother because I was not the son she wanted, because I could not live the life she wanted for me, because I wasn't strong enough to make my own choices. I'm sorry to Potter because I was jealous, because he is so much more than I could ever hope to be. I'm sorry to Weasley because you are such a better person, so more fit to take care of her. I'm sorry to Longbottom, too." At my words, Neville Longbottom's head shots up and he stares at me. "I made fun of him and his parents. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I have done, except for loving her. I'm sorry."

"You done?" asks the man behind me.

Hermione lets out a strangled cry.

I nod. "Yes."

I can feel the cold as the Dementor enters the room. I can hear Hermione wail of anguish as it approaches me. I realize, as the Dementor leans down, that her cry of pain will be the last thing I ever hear. And it is.

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

Been down

Ever been down

Ever been down

Ever been down

Ever been down

Have you ever been down?

Have you've ever been down?