I'm standing at the foot of his grave. For everyone, he's just another fallen hero who lost his mind and committed suicide. I don't blame them though, the boy was always too weak for his own good, so it's understandable that they believe their oh-so-called "Savior" couldn't handle the aftermath of the war and went crazy. But I know better. He became a murderer. He killed his best friend, the person he cared about the most, the woman he loved. He couldn't live with the fact that he had killed her, that his hands were stained with her blood, so he did the only thing he could think of: suicide. And it was all thanks to me. My master would be proud, if he was still alive.

It all started when a little desire of revenge was born. When I died, at first I was trapped in between, I was able to see what was happening but I couldn't intervene. And I saw him die, my master, my reason to live. I felt rage take over me, and I swore I would get revenge. But how would I do that, if I was already dead? And that's when it ocurred to me that maybe I could come back. Maybe not quite like before, but there had to be a way. So I clinged to the only thing I had left, the need of taking revenge. I fed it with rage and nurtured it with obssession, making it stronger and stronger, until one day, I finally stopped being a mere observant and became a part of the world again. I had returned!

The problem was, I didn't have a corporeal form. I wasn't even a ghost! (not that it would've helped me, ghosts can't really affect the world in any way) It didn't take me long to figure out I was something much better: a spirit. I remembered learning about spirits from my governess when I was a little girl. It was one of the pieces of knowledge only pureblood families like mine possessed in order to stay above blood traitors and the lower kinds.

If my memory serves me right, spirits are very rare. They are souls that remained attached to the mortal plain, just like ghosts. However, whereas ghosts only refuse to go on to the beyond, choosing a poor imitation of life; spirits have a particularly strong desire to return to life just as it was before they died. One would think that many people would become spirits after they died, but the truth is it ain't easy to achieve. You need to be more than patient and perseverant, you must have unnatural levels of stubborness, it must be the only thing that matters to you. Almost everyone is too weak to become a spirit, they all have feather-like resolves. You must be crazy to be so obssessed with something. Luckily, I have crazyness to spare.

Spirits can also manipulate the energy of their surroundings, even the one that's inside people. Everyone has energy running through their bodies, some more than others, and I could draw energy out of them to strenghten myself. But that wasn't my goal. I needed to get a vessel, I just didn't know how I was going to do that. Then, one day I remembered that my master was always blabing about the powers of blood, how it was the most important, sometimes the only, ingredient needed for most dark rituals. So I decided to give it a try. I would figure it out. The only thing I needed now was to choose a victim -vessel. That was the easiest part, I didn't even have to think twice. As soon as I saw her, I knew she was the perfect choice.

Hermione Granger.

But why would I choose her if she never did anything to bother me, apart from being born? Because of Harry Potter, obviously. That little prat destroyed our plans of getting rid of all those muggles and mudbloods, of giving more power to those who deserve it, the purebloods. He dared to defy us. But most of all, he dared to take my master away from me! How could he?! That's unacceptable. I wanted to make him suffer, to make him feel what I was feeling, and what better way than to take away the one he loved the most?

So I started to stalk her. I followed her everywhere she went and sucked as much energy from her as I could. I think she felt me, and that's why she started putting up a resistance. It took me quite a while, she was stronger than I had thought. Until one fatefull night, while hiding and crying for Merlin knows what in the shadows, she finally let her guard down, and I took the chance and tried to possess her. Surprisingly enough, it worked. I had a vessel! However, she was fighting to gain back control and my hold on her was waning, so I decided to try out the blood hypothesis -if it can be called as such- and cut her wrists. As soon as the blood started pouring out from her veins, I felt her weaken -she was dying. But the more blood came out of her, the more alive I felt. In that moment I knew, she had to die in order for me to live.

Did that mean I could've saved myself all the effort and just go and possess a corpse? Probably, but that wouldn't be as fun and satisfying. Unluckily for me, the Knight in Shining Armor arrived and she got back the control. Once I managed to possess her again, I set up to make her bleed a little more, so I could stay inside for long enough to kill her (or make her kill herself, it's the same result anyway). Nevertheless, Scar-face got in the middle of it, again.

My third attempt was intended to kill her for good, now that I could be in control for long enough. But that nosy ginger just had to get in the way. It ain't my fault that she ended up being stabed, she practically asked for it. As fate would have it, Pottery saw me -her- doing it. That little mistake earned us a trip straight to the loony bin. The good thing about being locked in an isolated room, higher than the Everest because of those useless potions/medicines/drugs is that she got even weaker and I got to be in control for most of the time. The bad thing (apart from being locked) is that I couldn't procede with my plan and kill her. After waiting for what seemed to be ages, Potter finally came to save his princess. She took control as soon as she saw him, but she was too dosed to make herself clear. I quickly pulled her back and got straight to the important thing: getting out of that place. He didn't really have a scape plan, but I had formed one almost since the day I got there.

When we succesfully scaped and apparated to the Shrieking Shack, I pulled a stunt to steal his wand away and knock him out. I had to cast a vanishing spell on us, to make us as invisible as possible, and wait for the night to settle so I could drag him through a passage to the castle grounds, and then levitate us to the Astronomy tower, so we could finish were it all started.

While I was waiting for him to wake up, it ocurred to me that he probably already knowed who I was and I could taunt him with this knowledge to further his agony. And then an even better idea came to me. What if I pretended to be his sweet mudblood, and convinced him that the only way to finish this was for him to kill me? Now that would be interesting, and it would definitely destroy him. I decided to prove this new plan, and to my delight, it worked! I must be a great actress (or he's really that stupid), 'cause he actually fell for it! Even better, he couldn't live with the blame and committed suicide!

All that pain, the trauma, the struggle; he deserved it. He absolutely deserved it for murdering my master. And even better, I hit two birds with a shot: I got a vessel and Potter is out of the picture now.

So, how did I explain to the "authorities" what had transcurred?

I blamed it all on Potty. I reinforced their theory that he had lost his marbles by accusing him of trying to murder me. I made out this unrealistic explanation full of inconsistences and loop-wholes that declared that all the stress from the war had taken it's toll on him, until he eventually went crazy and accused me of delaying the end of the war by being an unefficient sidekick, and decided that the world would be a better place without me. And then his first attempt to murder me occurred. Fortunately, he got a moment of clarity and stopped himself before it was too late and took me to the infirmary. Then, he attempted to murder me again, but only managed to cut my hand before I ran away. And finally, he got one last try that was frustrated by that nosy ginger, who ended up being attacked too. And through all of this, I was too scared of him, so I started acting weird. I never told anyone because I was afraid no one would believe me and he would do something horrible if he ever found out I had opened my mouh.

They finally sent me to a madhouse, but he wanted to finish what he had started, so he made a plan to get me out of there. I was too druged to tell anyone that he was trying to kill me, but he didn't want to risk it anyway. So he took me out of there against my will, and took me to the castle, where he killed me and then commited suicide. But he didn't know I didn't really die, that I was alive and finally free to tell everyone what he had done to me.

Of course, I had to perfom several Obliviates and recreate some memories (things my Master also taught me to do) on some students, the nosy ginger, the healer and the headmistress. But it was all worth it. Now, everybody is practically on their knees begging for my forgiveness. They tell me they're sorry for misjudging me, for giving up on me and for not paying enough attention to the signs that I was being hunted down.

It certainly helps that the only one who knows the truth besides me is a corpse.

I allow myself to watch his grave and rejoice in his defeat, which translates into my victory. But this is only the begginig, vengeance was only the first step. I'm planning on making my Master's dreams come true. And dear Merlin, I'll make sure they all stay kneeled before me.

They'll never know what hit them.

So this is the end. The official ending. The finale. Sorry for taking so long. I hope you like it (and that I didn't leave any loose ends). Thanks for reading. I forgot to put the name of the Shrieking Shack (that's embarrasing).