Dear Harry,
I have loved you for so long. Wanted you for so long. Desired you and even dreamed about you. How different your world and mine would have been if we had been friends and meant something to each other. How fascinatingly breath taking would our union, our friendship have been. I've always admired you Harry, from a young age. Merlin knows we were all taught different things by our parents, but just because they are parents, does not mean that they are right. I think it means that they are scared. Of what, I cannot say. I would collect pictures of you, listen to every single detail in the stories that were told, and I was mesmerised. I so badly wanted to meet you. I wanted to be a part of your life, so that we could laugh together, love together, find happiness together, we could do everything together. And then one day my life changed. Instead of being focused on you like I always was, and totally in awe that you defeated a dark lord just when you were a baby, I started to resent you.
The mere fact that you didn't acknowledge me. Know how I felt, or cared what I had done to keep the image of Harry Potter alive, pissed me off to no end. I hated you. I told my mother that you were a spoiled brat, and that being able to survive the killing curse was a fluke. It was not normal. But then you aren't normal, are you Harry. When you tackle something, you do it completely. With vigour and with passion, the same way you play quidditch. The same way you lose your temper, and the same way you finally defeated Voldemort. With everything that has happened, you still find time to smile. You still find time to be yourself, and you don't look damaged. How is that possible?
I kept a scrapbook of you, you know? Pictures, photos, articles, anything and everything that I could get my hands on, and I watched you grow. From an annoying little boy to a very brave man. Don't get me wrong, bravery is all good and well, but I will never have that characteristic. I am too much of a coward. Hence, this letter. There is a saying, if all else fails, try again. Believe me, I have. Tried on many occasions to do the right thing, and tell you what I think you have a right to know. But then I feel the cowardice creeping in, and I decide, maybe next time. He'll be all right without knowing this time around. Only I was wrong. You were never all right, with all the fighting and all the hate. I'm not proud of it, but I know that most of it was my fault.
In fourth year when your name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, I was scared for you. I saw first hand how shocked you were, and I immediately knew that you had no part in it. But the evil part of me convinced myself that you enjoyed the fame. Loved being noticed by everyone. It was only when you had to face a dragon, that I could see that a 14 year old boy would never subject himself to that. Not even for fame. I would go home and rant about how famous you were, and how much you loved it, and my mother would smile and say the same thing every time. "Idiot boy". And I loved that about her. The fact that we shared the same hate for you. Year after year when I ranted, she would call you names. Then in our fifth year, everything changed again. When I went home for the holidays, and ranted about you, telling my parents that I am in charge of the Inquisitorial Squad, I can't wait to catch you doing wrong, my mother pulled me aside.
Telling me that maybe I should let go of the hate, because she could see how it had consumed my father. That maybe you were playing a part just like the rest of us, and please not to look for trouble, and leave you alone. Well, I was pissed about that. I wanted to please my father, and even though I told her that I would listen to her, I knew I wouldn't. Famous Potter had to be taken care of. You had to be taught a lesson, and who better than myself to teach it. But again, you didn't learn. You had so much detention that year with Umbridge, because you just wouldn't shut up about Voldemort. So yes, you didn't learn. The scars on your hand are testimony to how brave you really are. Hogwarts was supposed to be there for you, support you and comfort you. But she let you down, just like everyone else. Just like me.
