I remember hearing about all of my friends parents. How my dad was best friends with Draco Malfoy, supposedly hated Ron Weasley and their family, knew nothing about Dean Thomas and was almost jealous of Blaise Zabini. So I had all of these different opinions about who each of their children were going to be and who I was going to end up friends with.
You can imagine Dad's surprise when I walked home with a Weasley in tow.
I can still picture it. His wide mouth gaping open as though he was trying to shove the entire kitchen into it. Dominique's smirk playing on her lips as she twirled her red streak around her finger. My mother's hilarious squeal and the sound of glass shattering on the hard floor. And, of course, there was me in all my glory just proud of the fact that I had been able to shock them!
But before I can go any further, I have to go back.
I am Piper Goyle. No. I am not an idiot like my father. It took me four years to convince of that, but here I am. Standing tall in the Slytherin Common Room pulling pranks just like my parents would if they were still in school.
Call me predictable, but for some reason I can't stand that I'm doing exactly what my parents want me too. It's like, they mapped out my life and now I'm forced to do everything they want me to. And I hate it.
That's why I made friends with a Weasley, a Zabini and a Thomas. All people who my parents would have deplored.
It gives me an edge.
But enough about me. Why don't you just get on with your lives and leave me in peace? My story isn't that interesting anyway.