He watched them all.
There was almost never a moment when he was not aware of most everything that was going on.
He had certainly had enough time, enough experience, enough mistakes, triumphs, sadnesses, joys, disappointments, miracles...
To understand most everything.
He knew so many truths. He had to. He had a very important job.
And he was going to do the best that he could at it.
Because, what else was there? If you did not do your best at whatever you did, what was the point of even doing it?
So he was going to do his best.
It was one of the few choices he was still able to make.
...
He hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time, long long ago, he had been a young wizard bursting with excitement and ambition.
When he had gotten his letter, after all 6 of his brothers and sisters before him, he had been ecstatic.
Now he could prove to everyone, every single person who had doubted him before, just all that he could do.
...
His mother and father were happy for him. But they were not ESPECIALLY happy. How could they be when they had gone through this same experience six times before. There was only so many times an event could be repeated, no matter how important, before staleness started to creep in.
And he was resentful. His brothers and sisters hadn't been anything special. The ones who had graduated had gone on to mediocre positions and the ones still in school were keeping up mediocre grades. The only thing that was special about them was that they had gone first.
And that was so unfair.
...
No one really noticed him. Of course, he was loved, but it was an impersonal sort of love. A love that was borne out of obligation. His parents loved him, but they didnt really like him. But they didnt dislike him either. There was not time for that. When you were sandwiched in the middle, the seventh child of thirteen children, you started to become less of an individual and more of a number.
At least that was how he felt.
...
So when he got his letter he was excited. Until he realized that really, he was just about the only one.
Then he was angry.
So he vowed that this year, the year after that, and the year after that and that and that, he would prove himself.
And people wouldnt be able to help but to be excited for him. To appreciate him.
Because they wouldnt have any other choice.
...
He got his sisters old wand. He got his brothers old robes. The books he had gotten were stained, splattered with the histories of late night study sessions, of passionate flings, of days spent out on the quidditch field.
Even these books were not really his. They were part of a story in which he was only a minor character.
But that didn't mean they couldnt be useful.
He spent long hours studying over his books. Learning everything he possibly could. He figured, the more he knew, the more power he would have. If he knew more than other people, understood more than they did, they would have to come to him. They would have to recognize him for all that he was worth. And the more he learned, the more he would be able to prove that-
He was worth quite a lot.
...
Finally he got to school. His siblings had been so far, three Hufflepuffs, two Gryffindors, and a Ravenclaw. His mother was a Ravenclaw, his father a Hufflepuff.
He became the first Slytherin in the family for centuries.
And it made him happy. Because now, there was something that was his.
The first of many things to come, he felt, that would show just how special he was.
...
School was hard.
It was hard to always be on top. He had to work hard.
He never claimed to be particularly brilliant.
He wasnt stupid. He knew for sure that he wasnt stupid. But he wasnt brilliant.
Not naturally.
What he did have was a brilliant, unnatural drive.
And that was why he rose over all the rest.
He wasnt giving up on being at the top. He wouldnt.
Not without a fight.
...
And by the end of that year. After he got his marks back and found they were exceptional, he got his fight.
And it all started with a girl.
