SCAR
For a fifth year, the little boy had been threw alot. Besides living threw Voldemort's fight of terror, besides facing him, besides growing up. The amount of pressure other's put on him was almost unbearable. But he held his own. Just keeping his chin above the waves, treading as fast as he knew how.
I could hang out
you could let me down again
but its killin' me
His whole life he had been compared to others. "So and So did this..." or "Why can't you be like them?" Often, a straight face was hard to keep. Every string of complements was to someone else. Every time he was called the side-kick ate at his wounds.
I cant wait a sound here
you'll break me if you can
drag me down again,
it hard to be your scar.
The only way he ever knew to prove himself was to be what each of them was all at once. But that would set history. But he was never that good, that smart, that fast. It was impossible to be all of them at once. And deep down he knew it.
a frozen satellite
you never got that far
its hard to be your scar and cool like you
It was, to say the least ironic the only person who ever asked if he was "ok" was an Azkaban refugee. It was, perhaps, more ironic that he had to follow in the footsteps of people that weren't like him. Everything they did, he was supposed to out-do. But from where was this super-human might to come from?
every sorry lie
I cant live that down
On one hand, he was supposed to be head boy, on another, the Quidditch star. And on some alien-third hand, he was supposed to be a prankster. But, he had to do all these and still be himself so not to look like he was copying anybody. And leave room for his sister. It was, to say the least, impossible.
so you'll wait and see
I'm caught between the seams
He couldn't take it anymore. Being a sidekick to the greatest kid in school. Being in love with the smartest girl in ages. Having a head boy for a brother. A Quidditch star for a brother. A ministry worker for one, pranksters for more. Even a sister who had a brief encounter with Evil himself. No one remember him playing the best chess match, or defeating Lockheart, or saving Harry. They just saw red.
I could hang around
you could let me down
But he would do something first. They would all see it. And as Ronald Weasley turned his wand on himself, he would be the first to die.
drag me down again
its hard to be your scar
a frozen satellite
you never got that far