George Weasley
My name is George Weasley.
It has always been. George, a common name, and Weasley, like all my family, the reason I'm one of the good guys. I'm so similar to my twin brother Fred. We look alike, we always talk the same way, finish each others sentences, have the same passion for doing pranks. We even think the same. Or that's what most people think. Even Fred does, I'm sure of that. I know him better than any other person, I always know what he is thinking, and I know that he is thinking that it's also the other way round. But it's not. Because my whole life is an act. An act made of darkness. I'm not like my brother, and I'm not like any other person I know. Because I'm completely different.
It's quite funny how all the people in my life seem to know me, but it's I who knows them. I know what they expect me to do, what they expect me to be like. And I do it, and I'm like it. But that's not who I am.
No one knows the real me.
Except for one person.
Except for the person who has been teaching me since I found him, when I was six, and poured my heart out to him. We immediately had a connection. He saw my potential, my power. My thirst for power. He helped me to keep my own character, and not to become one with the role I was playing. He invited me and taught me everything he knew then, and then gave me the courage to gather the knowledge I needed by myself. He always knew I would be greater than he could ever be, and he was right. I am. I still talk to him, he's still the only person I depend on, and I will always keep him, and listen to his advice. He's the only person I truly care for, and that I would never kill with a flick of my wand and without a second thought, like I swore myself to kill my twin brother Fred, who's so much like me, Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron, my other brothers, and my little sister, Ginny, who had once had a small taste of a life like mine, though she was not made for it, my parents, my teachers, and all the people who consider me a friend.
Though, he's not a real person.
No one ever knew that Tom Marvolo Riddle had written a second diary, right after he had heard about the prophecy, in case he should ever fall, and left it for a person to find who was worthy of being his heir and continueing to do his work, to get on with the search for immortality.
This person is me.
George Weasley.
A/N we had to watch a cabaret show at school today, it was about drugs and probably the most boring thing I've ever seen, though I didn't manage to concentrate on it, so I came up with this.
My name is George Weasley.
It has always been. George, a common name, and Weasley, like all my family, the reason I'm one of the good guys. I'm so similar to my twin brother Fred. We look alike, we always talk the same way, finish each others sentences, have the same passion for doing pranks. We even think the same. Or that's what most people think. Even Fred does, I'm sure of that. I know him better than any other person, I always know what he is thinking, and I know that he is thinking that it's also the other way round. But it's not. Because my whole life is an act. An act made of darkness. I'm not like my brother, and I'm not like any other person I know. Because I'm completely different.
It's quite funny how all the people in my life seem to know me, but it's I who knows them. I know what they expect me to do, what they expect me to be like. And I do it, and I'm like it. But that's not who I am.
No one knows the real me.
Except for one person.
Except for the person who has been teaching me since I found him, when I was six, and poured my heart out to him. We immediately had a connection. He saw my potential, my power. My thirst for power. He helped me to keep my own character, and not to become one with the role I was playing. He invited me and taught me everything he knew then, and then gave me the courage to gather the knowledge I needed by myself. He always knew I would be greater than he could ever be, and he was right. I am. I still talk to him, he's still the only person I depend on, and I will always keep him, and listen to his advice. He's the only person I truly care for, and that I would never kill with a flick of my wand and without a second thought, like I swore myself to kill my twin brother Fred, who's so much like me, Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron, my other brothers, and my little sister, Ginny, who had once had a small taste of a life like mine, though she was not made for it, my parents, my teachers, and all the people who consider me a friend.
Though, he's not a real person.
No one ever knew that Tom Marvolo Riddle had written a second diary, right after he had heard about the prophecy, in case he should ever fall, and left it for a person to find who was worthy of being his heir and continueing to do his work, to get on with the search for immortality.
This person is me.
George Weasley.
A/N we had to watch a cabaret show at school today, it was about drugs and probably the most boring thing I've ever seen, though I didn't manage to concentrate on it, so I came up with this.