His existence is enough to make any decent pureblooded wizard cringe. Perfect Potter, "Savior of the mudbloods", "Messiah of the half-bloods", and the dark lord's only worthy opponent. Potter could be a raging drooling idiot and he would still receive more applause than the world's finest wizard to date. There is nothing special about such an ordinary boy with a lightning shape scarred into his head.
He simply cannot see the world from other's perspectives. Potter has to have everything be "happy" and "good" according to his definitions alone. Because, surely, everyone else's opinions are as welcome as dragon dung and are simply incorrect.
Well you know what, Potter? Good is not how you define it. I am not such an evil bastard that I want the world to be taken straight to hell. The world comes in shades of gray. Why would some idiot simply pick the strategy dubbed evil? Evil is not a tone; no pretty sounds draw me to such a word. Potter's evil is simply my best interest. From my perspective, keeping my family and myself alive is not sorted under any wicked words in my book.
But Potter can't see that. He thinks his beliefs are far superior to my own. Although I can't say I believe myself to be his equal (I've been taught by my father how ridiculously lower class tainted wizard's blood can be), he must certainly realize by now I do not wish to follow his ridiculous notions of trust and love. This does not make me evil.
My household was a basic training ground for pureblooded babies. Growing up with Lucius and Narcissa was certainly a challenge. What little love we shared was merely spawned from our reluctance to discuss the topic, and formed from the mutual understanding we dare not bring up the dreaded word. To the extent of my family's silent agreements, love lived. To the understanding "We do not discuss love, little Dragon." love lived. Love was a word dragged out and flogged until it became something similar to "tolerance" and occasionally traded in for "mutual agreement."
Potter's childish dreams of love being the cure for all evil are ridiculous. He has no idea how little love helps, considering blatant rage is what causes the most damage. I have seen the power anger yields with my own eyes as helpless muggle women tare and scream through blinding fright as lustful wizards have their way. Where was the love to save them? Love was a traitor for their cries of desperation, and killed them through their absurd faith in it.
I have grown up with these beliefs, and am certainly following them now. Even if I were to change opinions, to suddenly understand the way Potter views life through hopeful green eyes I would not agree. His belief in love only hurts. To battle demons, one must fight rage against rage.
And that is why Potter will fall.