Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or other characters mentioned in this poem. J.K. Rowling does. If I had her imagination, hey, maybe I would.

1 Just the Pawn

They talk to me,

To look at him.

But that's ok,

Because he's my friend.

All of these girls,

Beautiful giggling girls,

Come to me,

And expect me to play matchmaker,

Or the role of a psychic.

"Do you think he could like me?"

"What does he look like in boxers?"

"You're so lucky to be his friend."

Lucky.

Is being the pawn lucky?

But a pawn can't ask a knight about being a pawn,

Because the knight was never a pawn,

And does not known what it's like.

So many girls and so little time for the almighty knight,

But none for the lowly pawn,

But that's ok,

Because he's my friend.

He does not ask for it, this I know,

But it is so hard not to hate him for it.

"God, his eyes are so dreamy."

"Even his scar is endearing."

Anyone in the house find red hair attractive?

Didn't think so.

Sometimes it gets so much I want to scream,

As they push me out of the way to get to him.

"That's just the smelly kid in the hand-me-down robes."

Alright.

This pawn cowers,

For I am nothing compared to the god I walk with,

But that's ok,

Because he's my friend.

Right?