Perhaps it is just me. The way I’ve been brought up? I look at the world in a slightly different way to other people. I don’t know if you think of it in a good or bad way but let us simply say different.

Harry James Potter, Gryffindor, in the year below me. Sometimes trouble found him, and fairly easily I might add. Sometimes he went looking for it. Most people are content to aim to do well in school, or sports. That didn’t satisfy him. Even when a man known to be Lord of all Evil has decided you must die, defeating him once just didn’t seam enough. No. Harry James Potter had to keep doing it over and over again. He managed to get his family killed or at the very worst seriously scared for their lives and then managed to get his friends killed. My friends killed.

I know what you are going to say. I hold a grudge. Maybe I do.

I’m angry that because of the ego of a young man, someone I thought was my friend, I had to endure the pain of losing:

- my Boyfriend Cedric Diggory,

- my Friend Sirius Black,

- my Best Friend Fred Weasley,

- my Fellow Metamorphmagus & Mentor, Nymphadora Tonks

- my Professor & Friend Remus Lupin,

- my Uncle Severus Snape,

- my Father Tom Marvolo Riddle,

There are others that I could count because he was warned, he was injured and he didn’t take any notice and continued in the belief that only he could be the man for the job. My uncle was right. He is just like his father.

Arrogant. Self-righteous. Put himself before others.