For the Slytherins who are brave at heart,

I know we don’t use the word brave for us, do we? We all know why don’t we? The word brave is a redundancy anyways. We aren’t bold in the conventional sense we are bold within ourselves. Our hearts are laced with the insistent desire o prove ourselves, the desire for validation that smirks at us when we don’t give our 150%, 160, 170, oh sweet thirst don’t you keep increasing? Oh venomous whispers of mediocrity, our bite is too strong, our red is too bold, for your gray.

Dear Slytherin, it’s okay. I know the papers keep piling up within the barricades of your thoughts and your goals and dreams are etched upon the walls of your heart like the posters of your ideals that give you strength. All of Hogwarts is asleep put down your quill, you’re working too hard, but you’re stronger than your sleep. You’re stronger than the fears that plunge you into a fire of cowering patheticness. Even though that’s not a word it’s one of your biggest fears. Pathetic and average. Those taunts come to haunt you don’t they?  But you’re brave. Braver than 3 am Braver than that dread of uselessness that washes over you.

For Slytherins







It requires an immense form of bravery to put up with the expectations you pile on yourself. It takes strength to be more than just you. People don’t notice why your eyes are red. You’ve been working too hard, or maybe you’ve been too hard on yourself, or a combination of the two and other hard hard thing. Hard-e-har-har.

It takes courage to let your ambition eat you alive. To sacrifice the only thing you’ve been born with. Yourself. Yourself. Yourself. So you lost the girl you love to an arrogant toe rag? So you lost your first position to the girl you hate and everyone loves? So you’ve been alone and friendless haven’t you? So you don’t rust people? Maybe you haven’t found somebody to love.? You’re human jaan. And fuck everyone who doesn’t know what it’s like to be that. That requires a hell lot of bravery.

Because no sword with basilisk venom can take apart he critical eye you’ve been brought up with. You gave a part of your soul to your most trusted companions, your diary and your pet because no one else seemed to understand it anyways. So you ripped yourself apart because everyone around you was so sunny and bright and bold and brave. You were the night everyone slept through. In their warm beds with the lights of snuggled with a teddy bear as you tried to find moons to impress them. Oops.  Doesn’t it take strength to rip yourself to shreds and pretend you’re still in one piece?

You are so very brave at heart.




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