Night is still, and I cannot stop thinking of you.
I am waiting for you still, and it is a long infinity, this waiting. But I know that for you I would do anything. I would wait for you always, Lily, and always is just that. It is not a word to throw around if nothing will suit -- it is an oath to you, and it is my oath. Lasting. Binding.
You, in that always now. Infinity, among stars, and with him by you. I still cannot stand to think upon it, though it was so long ago.
I didn’t want to do this - I don’t want to do this now - but I know I can’t do anything but. It is my fault that this boy has had to grow up without a mum and without a dad (that I should say that word and it should signify him!) and will know only guilt for an act that had nothing to do with him at all. It is mandatory that I should guard him - I, basis that Harry should factor in at all!
It was him, wasn’t it? If Harry was not born, would I still hurt as I do?
No. Who am I to say a child brought this wound upon us? It was my doing, and this pain cannot start to fix anything, though it may crush a living part of who I am. Who I was.
You still imprint all I do, and am, and want. It is for your son - Harry is only your son, Lily, and you cannot fault my mind for thinking it - that I am still in this world at all, as you wait in your unknowing always. It is for you.
And I am so angry with him, Lily, for looking as a carbon copy of all I wasn’t. (Did you know Harry would look as your husband did? Could you play such a horrid prank?) And I am so angry that you had to pass on. (Did you want to abandon all that I am, without you in this purgatory that was a world?) And I am so angry that it is my fault that I abhor him. (Did you know, all along, that I was a traitor? That invitation would block you from my mind just so long as it took to mark you for a bloodbath?) And I am sorry, Lily, I am so sorry. (Did you know that I was sorry?)
It is almost through, this war. I will join you in that infinity, and what will you do as I pass on? What will I do? What will Harry do - that I should think of him still! - if I am not around to guard him from all that I did?
My own infinity draws nigh, and with it, torturous choosing. I cannot think for all this turmoil in my mind.
I am going mad.
It will finish soon, Lily, and so my oath can stay intact.