Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
House Cup Competition - Round Three
Growing Up
Sometimes he wished it could have been different, that he could have grown up and stepped away from the pressure his parents had put on him. He sometimes wished he could have slapped some sense into his past self for being such a childish prat and expecting everything to be done his way.
Every picture told a story. All those dusty old pictures from their house in Privet Drive told exactly the same story, or lack of, about his cousin, the boy his parents had always told him was a bad influence. He now knew that the bad influence had not been Harry but his hypocritical parents.
He had realized it sooner but had been too terrified to act on it, knowing that his parents would take it badly. It had been his secret, sneaking into Harry's room while he had been sent outside to do chores. He had been careful to leave behind no evidence of him being as interested and fascinated by magic as he was. Their pressure was the only thing that prevented him from speaking to Harry about magic.
That dull, grey room had held so many secrets and was shockingly exciting for its seemingly dull nature even as it was empty for more than half of every year. That room was a room he doubted he would ever be able to forget, with everything that had happened and the person that room had once housed.
The thing that sucked out all the happiness had showed him the true horror that had been himself. It had been like looking through a cracked mirror and finally seeing the truth. That truth had grown and soon he had begun forgetting about the truly vile creature he had been previously as he tried to make himself a person he could be proud of when he looked back.
Sometimes he wished he could perhaps be even a little more like Harry, standing up for what is right even if it was difficult or would be painful. All that was only temporary, the regret he felt now was permanent.
Everything could have been so much different. He could have probably grown up with his cousin as if they were brothers instead of relatives who never wanted to admit to the other's existence because he knew that was how Harry had felt whenever he had returned to Privet Drive. Harry had dreaded it every year. He had noticed it when he had bothered to look back at the actions of his cousin. Everything could have been so different, so very different.
Those things had seemed so insignificant when he had been younger. Everything he had done was simply something to make himself feel better and more important than other people. He had not bothered to think of the repercussions of those actions for his future, like the fact that everyone remembered who he had been when he was younger and assumed he had stayed the same ever since, that he had never grown up.
He could understand though, they were scared that he would do the same thing he did as a child. They did not know that he had changed, neither did they expect it so they never bothered.
It was his fault, he knew that but sometimes he just wished, dreamed, that his life could have been different, that he had chosen to do what was right.