Azkaban Monologue

Azkaban Monologue

I shouldn't be here.

They want me to say that I'm glad they put me here, that it's given me time to think and that I regret my actions. But I'm not and I don't. I can't believe they put me here in the first place.

I shouldn't be here! They wanted him dead. There was that prophecy. It was him or me. There are so many reasons why I killed Voldemort, and those hypocrites still put me here. They would have done the same.

Dumbledore testified at my trial, telling them about the prophecy. He died not long after, still fighting the effects of whatever poisons Voldemort used on him, to incapacitate him. Dumbledore was stronger than that, he was there for me until the end, but when they convicted me, he gave up.

Apparently, knowing about the prophecy only made my deeds worse. Because I knew about it, I should have been able to prevent it. I don't believe that. Even if it were true, no one told me. It was supposed to be my destiny. Hell, if I had known that I could avert it, do you think I would have been such a miserable git for the last two years? I didn't want to be a murderer.

So I asserted it was in self-defence, but they didn't accept that. It was Voldemort, for heaven's sake. Merely being in his presence meant it was self-defence, and everyone knew he wanted me dead. They insisted it was revenge. Not on his part, on mine.

In retrospect, it probably was, to some extent, but I feared for my life as well. I don't think I would have had the guts to do it, otherwise. They can't imagine how much I dreaded the day I would face him.

They would have killed him anyway, executed him for war crimes. 'For every winner there is a loser planning the next battle'. The wizarding world had learnt from its mistakes, it wasn't going to let Voldemort live a second time, give him another chance to plot revenge.

I hate this place. It's dark, and dank, and damp. It must have been hell for Sirius, with the Dementors still here. Worse knowing he was innocent. I shouldn't be here, but I still know I'm guilty of what they have accused me of. I just believe they shouldn't be accusing me of it. They would have done the same, in my position.

This is a prison designed to make you never want to commit a crime again. But everyone here? We're here for the long haul. We'll never get the opportunity to commit another crime, even if we wanted to. We're all here for life, no matter which side we fought on in the war. Apparently the unforgivable curses are still unforgivable, even when you use them to save the people you love. And apparently non-magical means of killing are just as illegal. If I wasn't meant to kill him, why did I have the sword? It was Gryffindor's gift. The heir of Gryffindor was meant to kill the heir of Slytherin. It was fate.

I shouldn't be here.

* * *

If... if I'm being entirely honest, I did it because I wanted to be a hero. Not just The Boy Who Lived, but The Boy Who Defeated You-Know-Who. The rest of it is bullshit. It wasn't about revenge or self-defence or destiny. Malfoy was right about me all along.

There's so much I never had, what was it to ask for a little glory? I just wanted it to be fair. Life. I wanted to know that my parents would have been proud. I wanted people to ask for my autograph because my fame was real, because I had done something to deserve the adoration that's been plastered all over me ever since Hagrid first took me to Diagon Alley. I wanted Hermione to look at me and tell me how brave I was, what a hero. Ron and I were best friends for seven years, and I killed Voldemort to steal his girlfriend. No one's got the nerve to call me 'hero' now.

Hermione used to visit me, for a while, pledging to free me. She's stopped now. Maybe she knew she couldn't make the promises come true. Maybe I reminded her of Ron too much. Maybe she just got on with her life. I would, if I were her. Maybe she stopped because the guy in the cell opposite made her feel uncomfortable, begging for her forgiveness ever time she walked past and sobbing his regret.

Malfoy. Is it irony that I have to look at him every day for the rest of our lives, the boy I never want to see again? He's here for using one of the unforgivable curses. The Imperius curse, to be precise. He's also here because he used it to force someone to kill a person.

Why be vague? He used it to make Hermione kill Ron. He didn't even have the guts to do it himself. He always was squeamish.

I want to say I hate him. Maybe the people outside wouldn't say that they want to hear that, but they would, I a way. It would show that there's some part of the Harry Potter they knew left, something they can still relate to. But I can't say I hate him. I don't, not any more. Because he's sorry. He's truly sorry for what he did. He would do anything to take it back now.

And that's the difference between us. I'm glad I killed Voldemort. I don't regret it. I wouldn't take it back. So I can't hate him, because he's the better person of us two. I never would have believed it, if you had told me he would be the good one, if you had told me what he did and that I wouldn't hate him, if you had told me anything of any of this, any time before it happened. I never thought I'd actually manage to kill Voldemort. I never thought I'd be glad I did.

But I am. So Azkaban can swallow me for eternity, for I am glad I'm a murderer.

That's why I'm here.