“Is there anything you would like to tell me?”
No. Everything I could possibly say on the matter I told you a hundred times over. You simply ignored it; ignored the warning, ignored the planning, ignored the threats. We both knew I was capable- I told you I’d do it if it came to- if you had to suicide, you fool, did you have to do it by my hand?
If you were going to do this, did you have to instill a conscience first? Did you guess, when you forced my hand, that I’d be having these conversations with myself later? Did you know that you’d still be alive in my mind, to torture me? Wasn’t having to do it bad enough? What sin, what thought, what action of mine deserved this punishment?
We could have avoided it. I told you that. The vow was vague enough… if you hadn’t placed me there right at the moment when everything happened… you didn’t have to die, you fool! I could have avoided it. I’m a sufficient Occlumens to convince even a Vow that I’d done what was required, under other circumstances.
And now you’re memory visits my dreams. I hate you for this, more than anything else you’ve done to me. More than favoring the Gryffindor idiots. More than letting Lily die. More than sending me back to Him time and time again. I hate you for making me choose between my own life and yours.
I know what you’ll say next, and you don’t! You can’t! You’re dead. You’re just in my mind, and-
“I-” don’t! “-see.”