𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦

Chapter 36 - Guilt

Chapter 36

3rd POV

Guilt

Harry sat on the cold stone floor in the chamber of secrets. Almost the exact spot he'd stabbed the diary to kill the memory of Tom Riddle, but thoughts of that day were not even close to his mind. He sat cross legged facing the giant frowning face of Salazar Slytherin as it looked down on him, the face still had its mouth opened from when the basilisk had come at Riddle's call.

It had been hours since Fleur and he had returned from the Black Citadel, hours since he laid beside her until she fell asleep, which had only taken minutes. Then he'd gotten up and moved to sit there, the fold felt somehow comforting.

He was a murderer.

It occurred to him that he had been a killer since he was eleven when he had burnt Quirrell with his bare hands. The realization made him feel all the worse for not realizing it. How could someone kill another living person, but not realize what they meant? It made him a monster, no different from the basilisks or dementor knights he'd killed. No different to the death eaters he was pretty sure he'd killed on the roof of the Hogwarts Express.

However he considered it, he was a murderer.

Harry stared up at the visage of the man he'd killed hours before. The other times he'd killed were different, they were either creatures possessed or he didn't actually see them die.

This time, Harry had cut off a man's head. He watched the man's body collapse to the ground, the head rollaway. Then he'd destroyed the man's soul with unknown magic.

What he'd done to Salazar was unforgivable. It didn't matter that it was self-defense, that Salazar would have killed everyone there if he hadn't landed the final blow. It didn't matter that everyone was fighting with no power left, the only one who had the power to spare had been Salazar himself.

Salazar was the first person Harry had knowingly killed. He realized for the first time that before this war ended, he would kill again. There would be no end to the killing until the war was finished, if he was to survive and protect those he loved. As much as he hated any further killing, the idea of losing those he cared about was so painful, so unthinkable that he couldn't even consider the option.

That realization flooded Harry with guilt. How selfish could someone be to kill as many people as necessary to stop themselves from feeling the pain of loss? Harry stared with tear filled eyes at Salazar's stone face as the tears fell, staining the stone floor beneath him.

He was a murderer.

How could Fleur ever look at him the same way? How could she turn her perfect gaze to one so unclean as him? He was no better than the monsters they fought against, how could he expect her to stand to be near him, let alone love him.

How could he expect any of his friends to think of him the same way as they did? Knowing that he was a murderer, a monster.

How many more people would he kill before this war was over? Three? Three hundred? What would happen after everything was done, would he keep on killing? Would he leave a trail of death wherever he went?

How couldn't Fleur do that to Fleur, she had bound herself to him.he couldn't drag along with him on his killing spree across the world. Harry figured he would need to find a way tobreak their bond soshe could be happy, happy with someone whowouldn't a be murderer.

People died wherever he went, whether it was him who killed them or someone else didn't matter. Death followed him.

Was it fair to keep Fleur nearby when she might be the next one to die because of him? What would he do if Voldemort or one of their other enemies killed Fleur? The thought made his blood run cold and he narrowed his gaze at Salazar's stone face.