The laughter still rings in my ears.
I can hear it as clear as the moment it started, the moment that I knew the world had left me and that in time there would be no saving even the Gryffindors of it.
What are the Gryffindors anyway? Renowned for their bravery that they can supposedly call upon at anytime to endanger their lives, play hero and save the day. But it is all a facade. I could see it in her eyes, even if the one that proclaims so dearly and publically to know all her woes could not. She was not brave. None of them were. None of them are. None of them ever will be.
She had the power, whether she wanted it or not she had the power to stop the laughing. Then why did she not use it? It wasn't because she did not want to, of this I am assured, as dismal or unworthy of breathing on this earth as others feel need and want to point out to me every waking moment that I walk these hallways, telling me that which I already am aware of, she didn't let it carry it on because it was what she wanted. Her heart is as gold as the colours of her represented house. She wanted to stop it. But she was not brave. And I would not beg.
Bravery in Gryffindor only occurs when they see greater gain, she cannot be blamed for this, it is survival. It is instinct. They are brave when the world is at stake and they will get a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well done, for risking their lives and souls for the good of the world. But they are not brave when they risk being shunned and outcast by those who should be the ones congratulating them. Gryffindors with all their love and passion were not born to be outcasts. They could not live alone with the entire world praying that their tainted souls no longer walked among them. They are not me.
So she didn't stop it.
Small mercy she didn't laugh.
There were others. Others from other houses and some from her own, who also felt the same as her. That maybe, for once, their precious heroes had gone too far. But their pitying looks did not make them stop, turn and walk away. The thought that anyone else could have stopped such an event is hysterical, they themselves would be questioned of their loyalty and accused of being drawn to the dark side and answering to the snake.
The snake of Slytherin. Oh how the mighty never reigned at all. Born to walk alone, and unlike the occupants of any other house, capable of doing so. Brought up, prepared to be hated and in turn prepared to hate. But as far as it matters at least in their facades they have each other. I have no facade and no one to hide behind. I am not brave, but I don't pretend to be. If need be I will run, my pride will not diminish with such an instinctual action. I am not insecure enough to feel that running is a cowardice action. Being in Slytherin I have learnt the one lesson that separates the living from the dead already on borrowed time. Think. We are given a brain to use it, to train it to advise us in such matters, so why then do these fools always try and rely on their hearts? The heart has no other purpose then to pump blood around the body, it is not a small task, and it has no time to work out what one should do in a deadly situation. The brain was made for the purpose of being used. What is the point of learning, absorbing, rehearsing information to such a system if in the one case when it truly matters of the application of this information we overlook its' source and rash actions are sure to follow?
But I digress.
There was laughter. There were occupants from all houses stood to attention, watching the show. There was Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew doing what they do best.
And there was me. The centre of attention once again, being made to play the fool and why? Because I am not one of them. I walk these hallways alone, I cause no one any harm, I mutter no insults, I do not retaliate and I do not succumb to their level and why? Because when they are all lying six feet under having relied on rash instinct and child like decisions I will still walk alone. And for once, everyone will be happy.
They will be in a world which I have not been born into.
And I will be alone, free from ridicule and free from the laughter that torments me long after it has died out.
