I don’t like you, Draco.

Nor all the many ways you’re vain;

That you have too big an ego

To show your friends your thoughts and pain.

Draco, I don’t like you.

Your coldness is overt--

You say just what you want to

You injure, tease, and hurt.

When through all you undergo,

You preserve your futile strife,

I must admit, I hate you, Draco.

But then, I’ve never liked my life.

Draco Malfoy dropped the pen; it rolled off the desk and hit the floor. He rubbed at his eyes, willing the thoughts to leave his head now that they were written down. Silently, he raised his wand. “Incindio.”