As I lay here on the cold stones, with the wind wrapping itself around me like a blanket, time seems to stand still.  It's strange, really.  After so many years of life, the seconds and minutes had begun to lose their meaning, to blur into one another.  And now, in the last moments of life, as those years are about to come to an end, now, the seconds seem to drag on like lifetimes.

 

Even through the dark of the night, I can see the black coals of his eyes burning into me, burning with the unmistakable light of betrayal, the same light that had been burning there ever since he saw the truth that had been hiding behind my manipulations.

 

            I led him down a path, taking advantage of his immense grief to push him in the direction that the world needed him to go. Severus was perfect for the role I placed him in. I hated to use him so, to use the beauty of his love for such a guileful purpose, but I did what I had to do, what I knew had to be done.

 

            Draco stands next to Severus, his hand trembling, obviously realizing truly for the first time just what it means to end the life of another. Perhaps there is still hope for him, still a possibility that he could become more than the sadism and cruelty of his father. So many children have been hurt by this war, so many innocent lives ended or turned towards the way of hatred.

 

            Beside the two Slytherins, one the embodiment of icy hatred, the other a whirling storm of confusion and indecision, I see a flicker in the cloak of darkness. It is a slight movement, barely more than a breath, but I know what it is. Harry.

 

            I know he's standing there, probably hating Severus just as much as Severus hates me. He still trust me, still thinks that my highest goal was keeping him safe. In some ways, dying will be a relief. At least I won't have to see that hurt and betrayal in his eyes as well. He needed someone to care for him, needed it so badly, and so he made himself believe that I was that person. I wasn't supposed to care for him, wasn't allowed to care for him.

 

I knew from the moment I laid him on that doorstep that, one day, his life would have to end in order for Tom's reign of terror to come to an end. With every smile that he sent my way, every time those once innocent green eyes looked up at me, I knew that every minute he lived was a minute closer to the death, the death to which I was guiding him.

 

But in spite of all this, in spite of every ounce of reason, logic, and common sense I possess, I did care for him. I grew to love him, but it was always a tainted love, tainted by the inedible stain of my guilt. I tried to shelter him, to let him live while he still could, but I accomplished little, except to cause him even more pain.

 

Death almost seems like peaceful relief now, a rest after the long weariness that life becomes after so many years. All the pieces have been placed on the board, all my plans set into motion. All I can do now is hope that these plans come to fruition, pray that Tom will finally be defeated, and hold on to the dream that peace will come at long last to our world. I have spent all my life working towards that goal, and now I give my life for it.

 

Now, my true legacy lies in the hands of these two men, one a man embittered by the cruelties of his youth, one a man forced out of the safety and innocence of childhood far too early because of events he never should have been forced to endure, both living lives shaped by my careful hand. My plans rest on their shoulders, whether or not they are aware of it.

 

            I open my mouth, and speak what I know will be the last words to ever leave it. "Severus, please."'

 

            A wand is raised. An incantation is shouted, the two words distinct and powerful. A burst of green light speeds towards me out of the dark, a curse born of duty but fueled by righteous anger. But even though my death is moments away, even though I am filled with guilt for the choices I have had to make, I know that if I could live my life over again, I would make them once more.

 

 

            As a frail body flew off the highest tower, a strange, ethereal melody filled the air. It was an anthem which was somehow both hauntingly beautiful and immensely sad, both joyful and mournful. To those who heard it that fateful night, it captured both the tears which rolled down their cheeks and the slight glimmer of hope which still lay in their hearts.