One whose fame was secured before he could walk, where I have all but given up on achieving the recognition of more than a few.
One who had all the right, admirable skills, where mine were boring, frightening, or of no consequence.
One, Order of Merlin First class for years, who councils me on patience as my own chance for that recognition slips through my fingers and chastises me for lashing out in frustration.
All of them brave, all of them "good," all of them Gryffindor.
Why are the brave always handed glory and respect while those of with ambition have to fight for scraps of recognition, only to have them snatched from us time and time again?
Why do they get praised for their inherent skills while ours earn us contempt, ridicule, or fear, and our hard work goes unnoticed, save by a select few?
I understand, all to well, why the Malfoys slink through the shadows, spreading their poison, doing what they can to destroy the Muggle born who so easily out strip their own formidable power.
I understand the fear that their legacy, the power and respect that has sustained their family for generations, will be eaten away steadily by the incoming tide of Muggle blood and they'll be cast down to the level of the Weasleys.
I know why Lucius presses normally sneering lips to the ground at the feet of an insane half-Muggle, and I have no children to fear for in the future.
The call us crazy.
They call us evil.
They don't realize that nothing hurts and warps quite so much as ambition repeatedly thwarted.
I hate you, Harry Potter, for having so easily gained what I've worked for, for years, and am still denied.
I hate you for snatching the chance for glory from under my nose and my House's.
I hate you for having all of your father's good looks and "admirable" talent.
I hate you for being brave, instead of ambitious.
I hate you...and you will never understand why.
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