A/N - Another POV.. surprise, surprise.. PG-13 for language, and possibly content.. Judge for your self.. I don't like this one very much... I was in a bad mood when I wrote it, and would much prefer this character to be a nice person.. But, here it is......
untitled
Wake Up. Brush my teeth. Brush my hair. Look in the mirror. Nothing has changed. I go throught the same ritual everyday, and have for as long as I can remember. My fathers face staring back at me from the mirror. Same eyes. Same hair. Same sneer.
This time, I change the ritual. I puch the mirror as hard as I can. Which isn't very hard, I'm not a large person. But it's hard enough. I wash the blood from my knuckles, and tap them with my wand. "Mediclosato". The wounds close, and I continue with my day.
Clean robes, clean socks, clean shoes. Everything expensive. Everything the best money can buy. None of it meaning anything to me. Father wants me to look like royalty. Wants me to be royalty. Fuck him. I act better than everyone because I am better than everyone.
The common room. Stone walls, dank, dirty. Why is our room in the dungeon? Not that I mind. The inferno within keeps me warm. My cronies falling into place behind me. Idiots. I lead them only because I know without leadership they would forget to breathe and soon die. Stepping out into the halls of this school so full of people. People who love to hate me.
I have often been asked why I am the way I am. Why I hate. Why I am angry. My automatic response sounds vaguely like a paragraph from 'Utopia'. When you are raised in hate, bathed in hate, given hate to eat, what is expected of you? When those around you hate, and love is just a word you have read in books, what is expected of you? I hate because it's all I know. I am angry because I know it is not all that is.
Walking to the Great Hall. Feed the body so that the mind can continue. Seeing him. The object of my greatest fury. His hair as foul as always, his glasses magnifying his eyes. That scar hidden beneath his bangs. Walking with the mudblood and the pauper. My mind filled with flames.
Speeding up in the hopes of catching him before others arrive. In the hopes of making his life a little more miserable than it was 5 minutes ago. Why? Because he is all that I loathe. Loved because of his name, as I have been hated because of mine. Never did he have to deal with the torture of a family who love only your blood. Only the fact that you will survive to carry their cruelty on. And their name.
Not fast enough. More students have arrived. I fall back for now. There will be other moments. Does it bother me that I am a monster? No. I do not think about it. I do what is expected of me. What is expected of my name. There is more than one way to fail those around you. And being amiable would fail the expectations of those I am constantly surrounded by as surely as being cruel would fail the expectations of those around Him. So I play along.
I need no one, and expect no one to need me. Thus, my expectations are always met. When the time comes, I will raise my son in the manner I have been raised. He will turn out like me. Most see me as a bad person. This isn't such a bad way to live. Kind people are taken advantage of, are disappointed, and hurt by those they love. When you expect nothing, adn love no one, nothing can disappoint you.
Nothing.
untitled
Wake Up. Brush my teeth. Brush my hair. Look in the mirror. Nothing has changed. I go throught the same ritual everyday, and have for as long as I can remember. My fathers face staring back at me from the mirror. Same eyes. Same hair. Same sneer.
This time, I change the ritual. I puch the mirror as hard as I can. Which isn't very hard, I'm not a large person. But it's hard enough. I wash the blood from my knuckles, and tap them with my wand. "Mediclosato". The wounds close, and I continue with my day.
Clean robes, clean socks, clean shoes. Everything expensive. Everything the best money can buy. None of it meaning anything to me. Father wants me to look like royalty. Wants me to be royalty. Fuck him. I act better than everyone because I am better than everyone.
The common room. Stone walls, dank, dirty. Why is our room in the dungeon? Not that I mind. The inferno within keeps me warm. My cronies falling into place behind me. Idiots. I lead them only because I know without leadership they would forget to breathe and soon die. Stepping out into the halls of this school so full of people. People who love to hate me.
I have often been asked why I am the way I am. Why I hate. Why I am angry. My automatic response sounds vaguely like a paragraph from 'Utopia'. When you are raised in hate, bathed in hate, given hate to eat, what is expected of you? When those around you hate, and love is just a word you have read in books, what is expected of you? I hate because it's all I know. I am angry because I know it is not all that is.
Walking to the Great Hall. Feed the body so that the mind can continue. Seeing him. The object of my greatest fury. His hair as foul as always, his glasses magnifying his eyes. That scar hidden beneath his bangs. Walking with the mudblood and the pauper. My mind filled with flames.
Speeding up in the hopes of catching him before others arrive. In the hopes of making his life a little more miserable than it was 5 minutes ago. Why? Because he is all that I loathe. Loved because of his name, as I have been hated because of mine. Never did he have to deal with the torture of a family who love only your blood. Only the fact that you will survive to carry their cruelty on. And their name.
Not fast enough. More students have arrived. I fall back for now. There will be other moments. Does it bother me that I am a monster? No. I do not think about it. I do what is expected of me. What is expected of my name. There is more than one way to fail those around you. And being amiable would fail the expectations of those I am constantly surrounded by as surely as being cruel would fail the expectations of those around Him. So I play along.
I need no one, and expect no one to need me. Thus, my expectations are always met. When the time comes, I will raise my son in the manner I have been raised. He will turn out like me. Most see me as a bad person. This isn't such a bad way to live. Kind people are taken advantage of, are disappointed, and hurt by those they love. When you expect nothing, adn love no one, nothing can disappoint you.
Nothing.