Why would I 

want to be in the

most hated house in 

Hogwarts?

Why would I 

want to be judged

for something 

I didn't do?

Why would I 

want to deal with the

hateful stares that always

seem to find me in 

the corridor?

Aloud we say,

"Slytherin Pride!", 

but inside we mean, 

"It wasn't us."

We aren't Death Eaters.

We aren't all purebloods.

We aren't violent.

We aren't ones to follow the stereotypes.

Some nights, 

I lay awake in my 

dormitory, 

wondering if 

they all hate me or 

my parents.

I have lost count

how many times I 

have cried myself 

to sleep, assuring

myself that they are

only are trying to fit 

in by tearing me apart, 

layer by layer.

I have tried to 

ignore the insults, 

and words, 

and look past what 

everyone has done to me, 

and tried to see them as

normal people, 

but everyday, they all prove to 

me that they can get

more and more creative

with their abuse, 

and they have always succeeded in 

ruining my life, 

and making me and

all other Slytherins that 

we are no more than rubbish, 

useless waste that they would 

like to do no more than 

exterminate us from 

Hogwarts, 

once and for all.

Every night, 

I try.

And every night, 

I fail.

They despise me.

And they don't care what I am actually like.

"Slytherin Pride".

No one really means it.

No one.