Potter.
It was always Potter, wasn't it?
Potter who made him hurt.
Potter who made him angry.
Potter who made him sad.
Potter who made him regret.
Potter who made him want.
Potter who had followed him that night.
Potter who's footsteps had made paranoia creep upon him as he looked for an unseen assailant.
Potter who's hands had gripped his waist, stopping him in his tracks.
Potter whose lips had touched his for the first time.
Potter who had disappeared as quickly as he came, leaving him alone in a deserted corridor.
Potter who left him.
Potter who made him vengeful.
Potter who made him alone.
Potter who would pay for it.
But most importantly,
It was Potter who made him feel.
Because it was always Potter, wasn't it?
Just another crappy one shot I decided to write in an attempt to be rid of the terrible plague that is…
WRITER'S BLOCK.
Review if you like, I suppose…
(clap, clap clap, WOO!)
~Celia, the person most susceptible to Writer's Block in the world.