Author's Notes: I simply wanted to write a songfic that wasn't sickeningly dramatic or amazingly needless.
More Than Just a Game for Two
L is for the way you look at me. With eyes shooting daggers of sheer aversion. The hatred I see radiating from behind those green orbs can freeze me to the bone. But green is warmer than silver, and so I might assume that my steely gaze is equally chilling. Your glare can be unbroken and harsh, searching and all knowing. You cannot know that I writhe under your stare; I have too much conceit for that. Emerald jewels sparkle lightly beneath your brow when your friends are in your company, and how it infuriates me to know that you can be that warm with anyone. It makes me wonder against my will whether the silver in my own eyes could ever have such inviting luster, whether I could ever elicit a friendly gaze devoid fear or greed. And I despise that your eyes could make me want for you to look at me that way too.
O is for the only one I see. Everywhere I go you seem to be. You have arrived only moments before, but your essence lingers long after. Are you omnipresent or do you simply not understand the time-honoured concept of bowing out? Your name is on every written page, your image on every poster, your story in every sound mind, and your downfall in every lunatic's. I cannot escape you. My world is saturated with you, and I do believe I was here first. You are inescapable, inevitable, and insatiable. Yes you with your unquenchable thirst for heroism and supposed yearning for normalcy. I could beg you to stay out of my sight, but then I would have to beg winter to be warm and light frequent the darkness. It could not be done. No matter my cajoling. You plague my conscious and infiltrate my slumber. I cannot close my eyes to you; your image is burned on to a place no spell could expunge.
V is very, very extraordinary. Aren't you then, Potter? Hero of our times. Lover of purity and justice. Superman of the righteous. Is there nothing you cannot accomplish? No, of course there isn't. Not for this Boy-Who-Lived . What is it that makes you so blessed exceptional? The world falls in love with you and yet you have naught more than luck. The laws cannot always apply to our Saintly Potter. Your followers worship you for your valor and character. But think not that I hold no admiration for you. I do marvel at your exquisite complexity and impeccable darkness. There is so much more to you than meets the eye. Than meets their eyes. Fine then. You are magnificent, but for so much more than they can every give you credit.
E is even more than anyone that you adore. Your Weasley. Your Granger. Your gamekeeper. Your Headmaster. Your House. Your Order. The family you don't even really have, and the makeshift one that you do. Your mentors. Your confidants. Your sweetest world as you know it. And I am not among them because I am devoid of caring. I have not depth. I have not courage. I will not protect you. I am not wise. Compassion cannot suit me.
And Love is all that I can give to you.
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