The youngest Weasley is in love with you. Do you know that?
Of course you don't.
Your best friend thinks you're the best thing since her books, do you know that?
No, you don't.
Every girl in the school swoons over you and you're so caught up in your own good intentions that you don't even notice.
I watch and I feel sick.
I sneer at you to myself as I watch because you're just so clueless. I could guide you in the right direction, but I don't. It's so much more amusing (and sickening) to watch.
I watch as people turned against you as well. A lot have turned but most have turned back now. You don't care anymore, all you care about his that you think you're responsible for your Godfather's death.
I care that they've turned to you now, in their time of need.
And I hate them for it.
I hate your little secret pride that you have. You think you killed your Godfather, you, a sixteen year old boy! You think so highly of yourself now, and you don't even realise it. You're changing.
But not into the Dark Side. Oh no, you may not want to save the people but you always will. That's irritating, you know, because I've tried to be that way and it doesn't work. I can't. I care what happens to the people close to me but, if it came to it at that end, I know I will always save myself before other people.
I guess that's my nature. It's not so clear to me, the black and white, anymore. You seem to be one of the few who still have the clarity. I hate you for it.
And I hate these thoughts too. I mean, I'm not Malfoy. I'm supposed to be your best friend. Yet I don't want to be anymore. I guess I'm just selfish.
I guess that's in my nature too.
And I hate myself for it.
And I'm sorry.
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