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He had killed him. Them. He had killed both of them. He hadn't meant to, but that didn't make anything better.
How could he have known?
He should have known.
The spell was meant for enemies after all.
He was sitting in Dumbledore’s office, his mind racing.
Narcissa Malfoy was screaming next to him. He wasn't sure if she was screaming at him or Dumbledore, maybe both of them.
He wasn't soaked with water and blood anymore but he still felt as though he was. His hands were shaking and every time he looked at them his mind went back to Malfoy's hands clutching at his own blood-covered chest.
Harry's panicking brain had only barely managed to grasp that Snape must have died because of the unbreakable vow Harry had assumed he had made. This meant Snape’s death was also Harry's fault and, while Snape was a terrible human being, he was still a Person. And a teacher.
He had killed a teacher and a student. On the same day. With one single spell. Hermione was right, he shouldn't have trusted the book or the half-blood prince.
Why was the spell in that book?
Why would a student write down such a spell?
There was also the fact that, somehow, someone had found out that Harry had been right with the assumption that Malfoy had been trying to kill Dumbledore and that only made the situation worse for Harry.
When he had heard it, he feot satisfaction for a second because he had been right, but then the memory of Malfoy laying on the bloodied bathroom floor taking his last breath came back to punch him in the face. Now Harry was also doubting himself. He felt like an even worse person than he had before thinking that.
Harry had basically stopped Malfoy from actually killing Dumbledore, but he did so by killing Malfoy. He also hadn't had any proof that Malfoy was the one trying to kill Dumbledore, but most importantly, it had been an accident.
This last thing was the only reason why Harry didn't completely believe that he was a bad person yet.
He hadn't planned to kill Malfoy. Malfoy attacked first! To be fair he had seemed pretty out of it, but Malfoy had tried to use crucio on Harry seconds before getting hit by the spell that would kill him.
That was no justification. Harry had still taken a life.
What was going to happen now?
He would definitely get suspended from Hogwarts...
He would be lucky if he didn't get sent to Askaban...
Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by the sudden silence in Dumbledore’s office. He looked to his left and found that Narcissa Malfoy was gone. Harry did not know when she had left and as he turned to face Dumbledore at his desk, he saw him standing in front of Fawkes. Dumbledore was stroking Fawkes' feathers and the tired look on Dumbledore’s face made him look older than usual.
Dumbledore seemingly sensed Harry starring at him and, without turning around, told Harry quietly to go back to his dorm and meet him again the next day.
Harry silently stood up and went back to the Gryffindor tower. Harry wasn't sure how long he had been in Dumbledore’s office, but he had clearly missed dinner. It didn't really matter anyways, Harry doubted he would have been able to stomach anything.
After the fat lady let him enter, Harry was immediately pulled to the side by Ron and Hermione. They bombarded him with questions. The most repeated one being if he actually killed Malfoy.
His friends seemed a bit scared, but they didn't look like they believed that he had killed Malfoy. Well, sadly, they were wrong.
Harry wasn't in the right state of mind to talk about it at the moment, so he told Ron and Hermione that he would tell them what happened on the next day.
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Harry was laying in bed, but sleep just wouldn't come.
He was worried about the next morning. He didn't know how much the other students and teachers knew and he didn't know what consequences he would face.
All in all. Harry dreaded the next day.
All of this was happening, because of some stupid, dangerous spell in a book.
No matter what was going to happen, Harry decided he would destroy that book. Noone should ever touch or see it again.
After laying awake for several more hours, sleep finally consumed Harry.
Whatever was going to happen, Harry would figure something out.
He always did...