Chapter Text
Do you feel it?
The power that courses through your veins?
The very essences of who you are. How you weave your selfish need to protect others with a magic that is far stronger than you. Each pump of your heart, each surge of blood, each pulse of magic. The way your breath lingers on frosted windows, leaving specks of you coated onto glass. How your touch ignites the wild beating of hearts to those who have had the pleasure of your company. You have grown beautifully, far better than I could have predicted.
Ripe for the slaughter.
You know how it feels to stand on the precipice, to let life leave you and tumble into nothing. How wonderful it feels to let go and be free. To unleash agony and despair onto those willing to lap it from your soul. To give and give and give until there is nothing left but skin and bone. You pool your gifts to the many, letting them take pieces of you until you have nothing left to give.
You should have died when I told you to. For you are turning foul.
What happened to those who became gluttons for your presence?
Who are you trying to impress?
Your grand gestures of heroism and self-recklessness. Were you that desperate to fulfil the role I helped forge for you? You could, should, have ignored it. You could have been normal. If you chose not to be the hero.
I don’t think you could resist it. Being the centre.
Because you are greedy.
How is life without me? Are you lost? Are you at peace with yourself?
Do you find yourself pacing the floors of your quaint little home? Wishing for danger to return? So you can be the person you lost the day you lost me.
Do you really enjoy a peaceful life? Of three and a half children? Of kissing your wife goodbye, of packing your briefcase to go to work? I doubt you like working at an office desk. I doubt you enjoy working for those all too happy to shout that they have you under their thumb. Pressuring you to be the golden boy you have been since I made you him. The pressure… every single day. It must be maddening.
You turned your pain and made it power. You drew fire from your friends and drove out the hoards of darkness with ‘love’. You preached to know what ‘love’ was.
Do you know it now?
Do you see that I was right?
What is this ‘love’ anyway? People never loved you for who you were, but only for what you functioned as for them.
To be what they want you to be.
To be the father you promised your children you would be.
To be the husband you swore to your wife you would be.
And for what reason? You have, after all, fulfilled your purpose.
I know you, Harry.
You must be incredibly bored without me.