Author's Note: I was trying to get into Harry's head, and this is what happened. Let me know how it turned out?


My parents were murdered when I was a baby, barely one year of age. I was sent to live with my mother's sister and her husband and their son. They say family will always love you. They were wrong.

Under my aunt and uncle's roof, I lived an existence that could be considered miserable at best. Sometimes I got food, if I was lucky and they were feeling generous. I slept in the small cupboard under the stairs with spiders to keep me company.

Dudley, their son, was perhaps the most spoiled child I ever encountered in the muggle world. If he got to watch TV all day, then I was watching the sun make tracks as I cut the grass, and trimmed the hedges, and weeded the garden. If he got to play with his friend for an afternoon, I got to play too. As their punching bag, that is. If he wanted bacon for breakfast, we had bacon for breakfast, bacon that I cooked but rarely actually ate. His idea of fun with the garden hose was playing and splashing his friends with it, and them squirting him back. Mine was to simply let the hose stay curled up and not washing the car or watering the vegetables. He had toys galore. Every single fancy that passed through his tiny mind was soon his in reality. Except the pony. Aunt Petunia couldn't have handled the mess it would have made of her perfect yard. Yes, the very same yard I made perfect for her.

I had the spiders in my cupboard.

So maybe they didn't beat me, or throw me out on my own. Honestly, I probably could have crawled in my cupboard and died there, and they'd have noticed only because they had no breakfast waiting for them.

So I ask you honestly, why would I want to go back to that little hell?

When I went to Hogwarts, it was like being given another chance. Whatever terrible thing I'd done to deserve my life in Surrey had been made up for, and I could try for happiness instead. There, I met friends, made myself a new family of sorts, or rather got willingly dragged into another one. So I gained a few more enemies; what else is new for me?

It turns out, however, that I'm just not destined to live in peace. Maniacs and madmen trying to kill me all the time, psychotic posers and new family members popping up… Okay, so I liked the new family members. Finally, someone for myself to love me and care for me. It all seemed like a dream, my new godfather, until he up and died, before I'd really gotten a chance to know him. His death still haunts me, something I could have prevented if only I'd been smarter, or faster, or stronger, or just better in some way. I know I could have saved him… It was all my fault.

All my fault.

Now I feel I deserve the Dursleys. Some foresighted god saw this awful thing I'd do and decided to punish me early, it was so terrible. And now, I agree. I deserve every ounce of torment they could possibly lay upon my body, even as I torture my own soul.

It's my fault Sirius, my father's best friend and my godfather, is dead. What would he think of me now?

My name is Harry Potter and I killed my godfather.