DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I have nothing. Please don't sue me JK Rowling or WB. They own all HP materials.
I am cold and exhausted. More than that I am, well something, and when I can put words to this awful emotion I know it will be the end. I who have known such horror and sadness in life, I deserved a respite, but apparently the gods and a meddlesome old man believed otherwise. Why would he think it was an acceptable sacrifice? He was good and noble and worthy of all the admiration of the world.
I am a broken man. I would have gladly made the sacrifice. I wanted to! It was my life in balance. I who should have been judged and found wanting. I who should be entombed. The cold kiss of death would be preferable. Yes, I saved one boy the agony of a soul ripped asunder, but at such a price. He had sheltered me! Taken me in when he should not have. He loved me, a worthless turncoat. I could not be good nor could I be loyal to the side I chose. It seems a single foolish decision at 17 will mark me my whole life and leave me a cesspool of destruction. Nothing but misery follows me. My wake is a dark deadly storm.
I hope that this night I have saved two boys. I hope they will make better choices in their lives than I. For in the end I am left alone and hated. My arm burns. I must respond to master's call. That's all that is left. My master, I tried to escape you, but your ties to me are stronger than I. I will submit in a moment. And at last I know. I am heartbroken. I loved that foolish idiotic meddlesome old man. He was my mentor, my anchor to all that is good in this world and now he is gone. He is gone at my hand.
And I have nothing left but to answer my master's summons. I come.