Hello, my readers! GREAT NEWS, in regards to the annoucemnet made on my profile, I have found a way around it! So... NEW MAX'S PAIN UPDATE ON SATURDAY!!!!! $&$&# of a teacher gave me back my notebooks, as I did my exam on Monday (really! why would you put maths first thing on a monday moraning? huh!?) and this little lightbulb came to me in about three seconds, two miutes to type, and ...voila!
Hope you get it. - mysteryredhead (alias; found-you)
Enjoy:
To Be Afraid of Her
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We are told to be afraid of her.
Funnily enough, we were never told to fear Harry Potter. We were taught to despise him, to hate him, and to want to crush him.
We were never told to be afraid of her.
We suppose we just didn't realise before, just how powerful she really is.
We suppose it is our fault, that now we are told to be afraid of her.
We suppose it was that futile final battle. In which we thought that we would win. But they did.
We won. In a way. As they rejoiced, we killed them. Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Shot them in the back with our favourite.
Avada Kedavra.
She is too powerful.
We were never told to be afraid of her.
And now, though our leader is dead, killed by one that we killed, we are afraid.
She took up their mantle. She is the Auror now.
Her record will never be beaten now.
She left Mad-eye in the dust.
We are told that once she hears your name, a whisper of your location, the merest hint of a country - you are dead.
We hide, like the cowards we are.
She is not like the old Headmaster. No compassion.
She is blinded.
She sits, and she waits, for the breath of a name, and then we are dead.
It is our fault. We killed what she loved, and now;
We are told to be afraid of her.