I don't own the characters you recognize. Camrynne duChamp is a my own creation. This was written for a challenge: to create an OC and integrate him/her into the series in a realistic way, in under 500 words. Sadly, it was 511.
These Boots are Made for Walking
She had long, wavy black hair and piercing green eyes that matched the hints of color in her uniform. She wore a pair of black suede boots with the skirt that was, perhaps, hemmed slightly too high. It wasn't standard for the uniform, in fact, the skirt was probably considered indecent and the boots only worsened the ensemble.
This didn't seem to bother her. The last thing on her mind was whether or not her uniform was considered 'out of dress code'.
She walked with a certain distinctiveness in her step, poise, determination. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not be deterred from it.
Not even by a group of Gryffindor fifth years currently standing in the path directly to her destination.
"Move," she ordered, her eyes cold and annoyed. She had no time for this.
"You could have asked nicely," the red-head boy said rudely, standing purposefully in her path.
"Come on Ron," the black haired boy said with a roll of his eyes. She caught a glimpse of the scar on his forehead. Harry Potter. Harry Potter and his band of misfits. Fantastic.
"Move," she said again with more force, drawing her wand.
"There is no dueling allowed in the corridors," the bushy haired girl said snottily.
"It wouldn't be dueling if I knocked you out, now would it," she shot back, pushing the red-head out of her way and shoving through.
"I'll have points docked!" the girl shouted after her as she shoved her wand back into her pocket and continued on her journey. Like she cared about house points.
"Well, well, well," came a voice from a hallway to the right. "Didn't you show them, duCreye."
"duChamp," she corrected boredly. She had told Malfoy her name a dozen times before. She'd also told him many times that she had no desire to date him, whatsoever. She had for more important things to contend with.
"Whatever," he shrugged, walking at her side now.
"Leave," she ordered.
"A woman of few words," he said, smiling flirtatiously. "I like that."
She turned and pinned him into a nearby wall with such force that the wind was knocked out of him. She stared at him with narrow, cold, angry eyes.
"I have no desire to speak with you, snog you, or doing anything else with you, you spineless little ferret. Leave," she ordered once more, releasing him.
He huffed and he regained his balance and adjusted his robes.
"I'll make sure you have no friends in this school, you freak," he spat, returning from the way he came.
She rolled her eyes as she exited the castle and stepped onto the snow covered grounds. Didn't he know? She was Camrynne duChamp. She didn't have friends. She didn't need friends. They only serve on purpose. To betray. To cause pain, agony, heartache. Friends existed only to become enemies, so why waste her time?
She took a deep breath of cool night air as she walked across the grounds, her boots leaving footprints in the icy snow behind her.
