You're a funny little lad. You're so beautiful yet you deny it. Your smell is so intoxicating, like paint I reckon. Some think this isn't the best smell, but to me it's perfect. Why? Because it reminds me of you. I remember when I first met you but you won't remember. It was your mothers' funeral. You were too busy trying not to cry. 'Big boys don't cry' your father warned. You were determined to be a big boy yet you were so young. So innocent. Weren't you scared of me? Like I was a nasty little wolf coming to eat you up. My, how you've grown.
Hogwarts has had its toll on you. You're in Slytherin, aren't you? But...you're embarrassed? Great wizards had been part of that great house. Myself included. You've just always been a little different. The scrawny one everyone makes fun of. They don't care about your powerful parents. No one ever does. We crossed paths one day and you were still scared of me. This time however you didn't think I was going to eat you. Just kill you. Well, what can I say? I have that affect on people.
You slowly warm up to me as I reside in your guest room. I saw you have a peak when I would have been alone. When you left for school I somehow started to miss your squeaky voice but I couldn't dwell. Mudbloods had to be captured. Or anyone that posed a threat to the Dark Lord. When you returned home from the holidays I couldn't believe how much you've matured. Your beauty was still as radiant as it always was but the way you acted, like you had grown up. You would talk without the annoying stutter. You would finally fight back when I hurt you. Now here you are, wanting me. No, not wanting me. Needing me. Your legs wrapped around me as you call my name in pleasure.
'Scabior. Scabior. Scabior.'
The final battle is approaching us my dear Theodore.
Your better survive.