Being led away by Ginny to the hospital wing I start to reflect on my dream. I don't regret the things that I do not by a long shot, I'd do it again given the chance and I'd do it happily at that. My problem comes from what I'm doing. The people I kill I don't care for but that doesn't stop me from being disgusted by what I do, the tearing of flesh and the viscera that spills out of a person when cut sticks with you. I can still feel in my hands the sensation of knife hitting bone from when I tore into the Dursleys and sometimes when I close my eyes the sight of the headless corpses of the people I care about threaten to make me sick. The question that's been on my mind since I started this lingers in the back of my thoughts always lurking just out of reach.