Author's Note: Yep. I don't really know what to say about this one. It's really…Dark, I guess.

Disclaimer: HP characters belong to JK Rowling.

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She hates me. Hates me. She hates me.

No mater how many times I repeat it, I can't get used to it. She can't hate me. If she knew…If she only knew. All the hours I spend watching her, memorizing her movements. If only she knew about the notebook full of letters that I will never give her, the scars I will never show her, that little black bundle under my bed. That little black bundle that's all for her.

I pull out that little black bundle and let the silk fall away. There sits my favorite black quill, a red ink bottle, and a shiny silver dagger. I pull out the notebook and open it. I have one page left, then it's done. It's finally done. I roll up my sleeve and grasp the dagger. I look for a place that is devoid of scars, and I feel like a heroin addict, looking for a vein that isn't already hard. I finally find a spot above the crook of my elbow and place the knife to my skin. It is cold, but as I pull it across my flesh, a shimmering heat sears up my arm and down my chest. I quickly discard the dagger and hold the bottle under the wound, letting the thick liquid pool in it. When the bottle is almost full and the flow slows to a trickle, I press the black silk to my arm and set down the bottle. I wait until the wound has stopped oozing, then lift my quill and dip it in the thick red liquid.

I put quill to paper and write to her, one last time.

Angel-

I know that you will never love me, and I have accepted that. But I cannot accept that you hate me. How can you hate me when I love you so? It does not matter now, for by the time this reaches you, I will be gone and you will be better off. I could never measure up to you. You are perfection, you are bliss, you are eternity. You are all the things I will never be, the things I will never have. You are too good for me, thus, I leave you. I know that you will someday find happiness, even if it not within me.

I know what you see when you look at me. Blonde hair, grey eyes, and pale skin. You see evil. You see my father. But I tell you now that I am not like him. I will never be the vile creature that my father has allowed himself to become. My father is loathsome and despicable.

I also know what I see when I look at you. Honey curls, chocolate eyes, and ivory flesh. I see unattainable beauty and unmatched grace. I see infinite wisdom and a thirst for knowledge. Never loose these qualities, for these are what make you perfect. These are what make you my angle without wings. I love you, Angel, and perhaps we will meet again, in some other life.

Goodbye, Angel. Goodbye.

I blow softly on the last few words, drying them, then close the notebook. All those pages of blood, all those pages of pain, and love. I will sorely miss her, but it has to be done.

I make my way to her chambers. The placard on the door reads "Head Girl." I set the notebook and the black bundle down outside the door and turn my back.

The Astronomy Tower welcomes me this night. It is a clear, dark night and the crisp air bites my cheeks and tangles my cloak and I survey the empty grounds. This is my last survey of these grounds, and I will remember it well. I step up beside a gargoyle, crouched forever in its stony silence, and spread my arms. I close my eyes and envision her.

"Goodbye, Angel," I whisper to the stars. I lean forward, the wind rushing my face and pushing my cloak out behind me. Adrenaline rushes through me as I fall, picking up speed as I near the end. Just when I'm sure I can't bear it anymore, the world stops and blackness envelopes me.

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