Lies
Summary: "The hierocracy is quite easy to understand, you see: the older, and the "better", as they say, look down upon the younger, their subjects…" A look at Hogwarts, below the façade. Odd.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: This is based almost completely upon chapter 7 of A Tale of Two Cities. It switches from past-tense to present-tense and is quite strange. I wrote it during study hall. It's probably the first fic to have Eloise Midgeon as a main character.
Lies
All commotion stopped almost immediately upon the completion of breakfast. Children with malice on their tongues and anarchy in their eyes dressed and gathered books and set off once again to go through the regular routine of their day. Professors favored some students and punished others, and some cared and some did not, because they were used to it all by now.
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Walk through the halls and you can almost hear the crying and the yelling and the insisting and the voices of the older ones who control everyone else.
"Eloise Midgeon?" one is saying, flipping her hair in amusement. "That horrid, ruddy girl with the brown hair? Oh, she's simply dreadful!"
"Oh, yes," the other agrees, smiling wickedly at Eloise, who is standing nearby and has heard the entire conversation. "She's terrible, Beatrice, just awful."
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The hierocracy is quite easy to understand, you see: the older, and the "better", as they say, look down upon the younger, their subjects, who, if they happen to be in Slytherin, look down upon the Muggle-borns in turn, and on and on until no one's left. Their logic is that the more people they look down upon, the greater they are.
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"Lie to me," she hisses fiercely, her pale face turning bright red. "Come on, lie to me again! Everything's a joke, anyway, so you might as well get on with it!"
"Eloise, you know I didn't mean it that way," Beatrice simpers cruelly, giving her sidekick an evil grin. "We're friends, yes?"
"Yes," Eloise replies bitterly. "Yes, of course…over my dead body."