In that tremendous flash of freedom, on my way to do The Thing for the first time, sanctioned by Almighty Harry, I receded, faded back into the scenery of my own dark self, whole the other me crouched and growled. I would do It at last, do what I had been created to do. And I did.

I sighed; as comforting as it may be to some of us, sarcasm, like youth, is wasted on the young.

I know family comes first, but shouldn't that mean after breakfast?

I stood up. It was all too much. I could not even meet my own expectations, and to be asked to deal with all theirs too was suffocating.

Nothing else loves me, or ever will. Not even - especially - me. I know what I am and that is not a thing to love.

I think people understand things different when they get older. It’s not a question of getting soft, or seeing things in the gray areas instead of black and white. I really believe I’m just understanding things different. Better.

Or was he saying, "Hi! Wanna play?" And I did. Of course I did.