Are My Sins To Be Punished?
Standard Disclaimer applies. Also, rated Mature for Character Death.
A/N: DISCLAIMER: This story was inspired by the amazing Airahsay! Go Read "May My Sins Be Forgiven" !!!! The characters are property of JK Rowling.
I see you nightly in my dreams, and tonight I have a guilt-ridden admission to make.
She hasn't been the same since you died.
She was vivacious, full of life, exuding joy even in those last days of the Dark War. You defeated the Dark Lord, as everyone knew you would, and I…blinded by desire for her, intermingled with a sudden freedom to pursue her…I challenged you, unable to visualize the far-reaching consequences.
I don't delude myself now, when I reflect. You were drained, and that's why my spells hit you…not because I, myself, was greater. Other fools say that now, you know…that I'm the most powerful wizard. Idiots, their snivelling only makes me want to strike them.
But you…oh you had me pegged from the beginning. A bully, in essence, a coward…ah, I recognize the truth of it. I have conquered the world by preying on the weak…condemning muggles to slavery, quashing rebellion by sheer numbers. But I suppose, for all the havoc I have wreaked, it matters little, if those prophets are correct in their predictions of world's end…It is expected of course. The wizard who killed you would have to be evil, would have to be the one to cause the world's destruction…and my entire life has been merely meeting expectations.
Yet when I defeated you, I was acting out a defiance against my father's memory…against the Dark Lord's wishes…blinded by my desire for the girl you had. And O! irony of ironies, that girl…died right alongside you…she's no longer the same.
I still care desperately for her…I have given her the world…and she's carrying my child. Yet she looks at me with terror and loathing, calling me "Lord", and denying that I care for her. I loved her Potter, yet once again, you got what I wanted, or made it so I couldn't have it!
In some ways, you've always been the blessed one of us. You had parents who cared enough to die for you, and who left the most powerful wizard in the world as your mentor and guardian. My parents trained me as they would a pet, obedient and ready to serve their Lord. You got private lessons with Dumbledore…a mission of greatness, while I got stuck trying to fix a cupboard under threat of my life. Everyone had respect for you, if not for your scar, then for your bravery…even Snape…and now, even as Lord of the earth I can only make people fear me. And my wife loved you…loves you, and when I made her mine…she was not the same.
I wonder, Potter, if you know just how much I wanted to be you?
But we are given our lives for a reason. I, son of Lucius Malfoy, coward, murderer, Lord, have lived and, indeed, prospered. And you, Boy-Who-Lived, brave, loyal, saviour of the world, you died at my hand.
Who can say what is meant to be? My wife carries my child but hates both myself and it…him. We lost the first at her brothers hands while she was pregnant with it…and they paid for it with their blood. And with this one, the prophets bode ill for the world, whispering that the child will be the end of the world. Blast those prophets, those whom I keep closer than the ones I trust! Yet, perhaps my sins are being punished. Heaven knows they're numerous enough.
Potter, I think you've lucked out again, being dead. So many familiar faces…loved ones all around you. And I am despised, feared. Life, after all, only shoves it's ironies down your throat. Indeed, death would be welcome, for the irony is tortuous. Would you forgive me, if I made my way to join you? Or are we even…for every day I must live, knowing that it was my selfish desire for Ginny that led me to kill you…and now, with you dead and gone, I realize that my desire was better served while you lived!
My sins are too many to count, let alone be forgiven for, and I know it.
Tell me, Potter, as you stand in my dream…smirking at me, is death really that bad? My life is hell, and it is made all the worse for the knowledge that it is my own doing.
Damn you for dying, Potter! You should have lived…either killing me or having just been wounded. My greatest sin lies in your death… the rest spirals from that. Not only did I end your life that day…but most hope in the world too. Despite my jealousy of you Potter…the world was richer with you here, and I can acknowledge that now.
I command my people, and they obey out of fear. I know not how to change this method, I know not how to be good. My only solace is found in my unborn son, who already holds my hand in my dreams…
There's a warmth seeping from my chest, and I can actually touch you now…unlike all the other dreams of you…She has killed me, hasn't she? Your hand is outstretched, and I reach for it… knowing that I will be joining you soon in Death's place…This is how I pay for my sins….killed at the hands of my lover, my beloved Ginny…Ah Potter, be ready -- I come.
A/N: DISCLAIMER: This story was inspired by the amazing Airahsay! Go Read "May My Sins Be Forgiven" !!!! The characters are property of JK Rowling.
I see you nightly in my dreams, and tonight I have a guilt-ridden admission to make.
She hasn't been the same since you died.
She was vivacious, full of life, exuding joy even in those last days of the Dark War. You defeated the Dark Lord, as everyone knew you would, and I…blinded by desire for her, intermingled with a sudden freedom to pursue her…I challenged you, unable to visualize the far-reaching consequences.
I don't delude myself now, when I reflect. You were drained, and that's why my spells hit you…not because I, myself, was greater. Other fools say that now, you know…that I'm the most powerful wizard. Idiots, their snivelling only makes me want to strike them.
But you…oh you had me pegged from the beginning. A bully, in essence, a coward…ah, I recognize the truth of it. I have conquered the world by preying on the weak…condemning muggles to slavery, quashing rebellion by sheer numbers. But I suppose, for all the havoc I have wreaked, it matters little, if those prophets are correct in their predictions of world's end…It is expected of course. The wizard who killed you would have to be evil, would have to be the one to cause the world's destruction…and my entire life has been merely meeting expectations.
Yet when I defeated you, I was acting out a defiance against my father's memory…against the Dark Lord's wishes…blinded by my desire for the girl you had. And O! irony of ironies, that girl…died right alongside you…she's no longer the same.
I still care desperately for her…I have given her the world…and she's carrying my child. Yet she looks at me with terror and loathing, calling me "Lord", and denying that I care for her. I loved her Potter, yet once again, you got what I wanted, or made it so I couldn't have it!
In some ways, you've always been the blessed one of us. You had parents who cared enough to die for you, and who left the most powerful wizard in the world as your mentor and guardian. My parents trained me as they would a pet, obedient and ready to serve their Lord. You got private lessons with Dumbledore…a mission of greatness, while I got stuck trying to fix a cupboard under threat of my life. Everyone had respect for you, if not for your scar, then for your bravery…even Snape…and now, even as Lord of the earth I can only make people fear me. And my wife loved you…loves you, and when I made her mine…she was not the same.
I wonder, Potter, if you know just how much I wanted to be you?
But we are given our lives for a reason. I, son of Lucius Malfoy, coward, murderer, Lord, have lived and, indeed, prospered. And you, Boy-Who-Lived, brave, loyal, saviour of the world, you died at my hand.
Who can say what is meant to be? My wife carries my child but hates both myself and it…him. We lost the first at her brothers hands while she was pregnant with it…and they paid for it with their blood. And with this one, the prophets bode ill for the world, whispering that the child will be the end of the world. Blast those prophets, those whom I keep closer than the ones I trust! Yet, perhaps my sins are being punished. Heaven knows they're numerous enough.
Potter, I think you've lucked out again, being dead. So many familiar faces…loved ones all around you. And I am despised, feared. Life, after all, only shoves it's ironies down your throat. Indeed, death would be welcome, for the irony is tortuous. Would you forgive me, if I made my way to join you? Or are we even…for every day I must live, knowing that it was my selfish desire for Ginny that led me to kill you…and now, with you dead and gone, I realize that my desire was better served while you lived!
My sins are too many to count, let alone be forgiven for, and I know it.
Tell me, Potter, as you stand in my dream…smirking at me, is death really that bad? My life is hell, and it is made all the worse for the knowledge that it is my own doing.
Damn you for dying, Potter! You should have lived…either killing me or having just been wounded. My greatest sin lies in your death… the rest spirals from that. Not only did I end your life that day…but most hope in the world too. Despite my jealousy of you Potter…the world was richer with you here, and I can acknowledge that now.
I command my people, and they obey out of fear. I know not how to change this method, I know not how to be good. My only solace is found in my unborn son, who already holds my hand in my dreams…
There's a warmth seeping from my chest, and I can actually touch you now…unlike all the other dreams of you…She has killed me, hasn't she? Your hand is outstretched, and I reach for it… knowing that I will be joining you soon in Death's place…This is how I pay for my sins….killed at the hands of my lover, my beloved Ginny…Ah Potter, be ready -- I come.