Chapter Text
Potter,
I’m sure you are wondering why this letter is addressed to you. To be completely honest with you, I myself have no clue. Somehow yours is the only face I can imagine reading this note. So, here goes.
I’m dropping all formalities. I’m too tired. If you are reading this, then I’m sure you already know what I’ve done. I’m sure you knew it would end like this for me. I’ve known for quite some time.
Now that my parents are in Azkaban, they are under constant surveillance. When they hear the news, they will not be able to follow me into the abyss. I don’t have to worry about them anymore. True, it hurts knowing the pain I will be putting them through, but somehow I feel that they will understand. After all, it's not as though this is the first time. But it will be the last.
Potter, I don’t know how you feel about suicide, but let me tell you, it is exhausting. I have put all my affairs in order, written out a basic will, made plans and backup plans. Do you know how painful it is to accomplish all of THAT when even just making yourself eat feels like too much of a hassle? Maybe you do, you’ve lost loved ones before. Grief does that to people. The only difference is that the person I’m grieving hasn’t died. He will have by the time you are reading this, though.
Even writing this is taking me days at a time. I have so little energy left.
I used to look down on people who ended their own lives. I thought they were selfish cowards. I couldn’t understand how they could do that to their families. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t just seek help.
Now, I know. There’s no point seeking help, at least not for me. It’s too hard to fight. Selfish is a gross misunderstanding. Selfless, more like. No one wants me here. My parents love me, but even they hate the man I’ve become. My friends only humor me with their company. Truth is, they probably will be relieved when they hear.
As for the phrase “coward’s way out”. I can’t deny that I am weak and two-faced. I can’t deny that I am afraid to stay alive. But I’m also afraid of death. It takes no small amount of bravery to cast the killing curse on yourself. And muggles haven’t quite figured out an easier way yet, either. There’s the gun, the rope, the razor, the pills, drowning. None of them sound too appealing, but if that’s what it takes…
I’ve answered how, now for the why. Well, do I even have to tell you? You know what I am, what I was. Even before I joined the Death Eaters, I was vermin. Constantly trying to get you and your friends in trouble at school. Doing my best to put you all beneath me. Talking down to those I believed were worth less than dirt. I even tried to get Hagrid fired and that hippogriff killed. I was rotten.
Now look how much good all that did me. You’re all war heros, even Hagrid. And me? I was on the side of those people who killed your parents and your friends. My classmates. I lost one of my best friends in the process. Of course it was his own fucking fault, but that’s not really the point is it?
I’m not fit to live anymore. I don’t want to live anymore. Every night I relive what I’ve done, if I can get sleep that is. I don’t imagine that will ever end. I’m not just doing myself a service here.
When you read this, I will be gone. The world will be a better place.
I’m not one for apologies, but I know that this is one of those things that you don’t just do without expressing your sorrow for the people who will grieve you. So please, Harry, tell my parents I am truly sorry. I am sorry that I failed them, and that I failed myself. Tell my friends I am sorry that I was not a better friend to them. Tell your friends I am sorry for everything I have ever done to them. I know they will not care; I don’t expect forgiveness. I only wish to express…
Well, it doesn’t matter. I am sorry.
And I am sorry, Harry. For everything. I’m sorry that I was such a prat in school. I’m sorry that I joined the people who killed your family. I’m sorry that I never told you any of this till now. I’m sorry that I never…
I’m sorry that you ever knew me, but I’m not sorry that I met you. I wish things had been different, all the time. I wish I could turn back time and reintroduce myself to you. On the train or before that. In Madam Malkins. I wish I could have been your friend, your equal, your…
But I missed my chance. And then instead of trying again, I chose to make you regret it. I wanted you to pay attention to me, to look at me. I wanted to get a rise out of you, to make you lose control. I didn’t really know why for a long time. I assumed it was because you had power, reputation. I thought I wanted you beneath me.
Not to be crude, but I guess I really did want you beneath me. Or on top of me.
I know I’m overstepping my boundaries. I know that this is unsolicited and that even if you were available, it would be a long shot. I guess I just don’t want to die knowing that you never figured it out.
For a while, I thought you knew and your actions toward me were your way of saying you were not interested. That fucking hurt. And maybe you did know. I prefer to think you were too oblivious to see how much I..
Shit, I mean, what do I have to lose. This is a suicide note. It’s not really like I’m going to see you again in this life.
So.
I’m in love with you Potter.
I love you, Harry.
Goodbye.
Draco Lucius Malfoy