Heather Huntington is the devil.

She is the meanest, nastiest, bitchiest person to even live on planet Earth. I swear, people like her should be paying for the oxygen they consume, otherwise it would be too much of a waste.

Her only goal in life is to make my life utterly miserable and to be frank, she was doing a good damn job.

Right now, she was following me and my best friend Sylvia in a quiet and dark corridor, her heels clacking annoyingly on the cold marble floor and her stupid melodic voice humming a cheery beat.

"What does she want?" I whispered to Sylvia, who only rolled her eyes at me.

"Perhaps she's going somewhere", she said in a normal voice, so I pinched her, afraid that the Devil might know that she had managed to annoy me.

I scoffed.

"She's not going anywhere! The Gryffindor Common Room is the opposite way, this corridor only leads to the dungeons. And believe me, I don't reckon she's going to the kitchens", I murmured, thinking of her skinny frame and her stupid long legs.

"Hey, Almeida!" She called out, her voice bright and lively, as if she was trying to catch a friend's attention.

"Let's just ignore her", I muttered to my blonde friend as I quickened my pace in a futile attempt to get away from that mutant insect.

Unfortunately, her stupid long legs caught up with us and she yanked my arm forcefully. I slapped her pale hand off so hard that my gold hoop earrings bumped against my cheeks.

"Why the FUCK are you touching me, plebeian riffraff?" I yelled, my irrational anger getting the best of me. I'm not like that usually, I am actually pretty nice, trust me. It's just that there is something about her that really sets me off.

"Are you done with your Portuguese rambling?" She said in an annoyed tone, not even bothering to use that sickly sweet one that provokes me.

"Plebeian is actually Latin." I corrected her. "Not that you'd know anything, uncivilized swine."

She snorted. "Okay, whatever."

"Are you done with your bitch rambling?" I mimicked her.

"I just came here to remind you how better I am than you." She said with a bright smile, throwing her glossy black hair over her shoulder.

I suppressed a laugh. "Okay, I got that message years ago. Leave me alone now."

This time, I wouldn't let her win by upsetting me. I was too tired for her drama. As I turned around, I heard her voice once again, this time whiny:

"What's wrong with you today, Almeida? You're no fun!"

I rolled my eyes. Of course this was a game to her. But today, she wouldn't affect me. Oh no, no, no. I, Aurora Teresa Almeida, forbade that.

But then, she had to continue: "Have you finally come terms with the fact that you're never going to be better than me?"

I turned around, forcefully staring at her. "What?"

Sylvia sighed. "Let it go, Ro. It's no use."

I ignored her. "What?"

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, I was just saying! I mean, it's not like you're good at anything. Boys, class, Quidditch…"

Okay, she got me there. She was good at those things. She was the top of every class, surpassing even the Ravenclaws' wit and had a secure position in the Quidditch team as a Chaser. And don't get me started on the "boys" department. With her modelesque figure, big pouty lips, sparkling eyes and perfect complexion, it was no wonder she was the object of almost every man's affection.

"I can play Quidditch." I blurted out, which was a horrid, ludicrous lie. Even rocks knew that. I hadn't ridden a broomstick ever since those FlyingLessons is First Year.

And they don't really count cause we flew only up to 10 meters from the ground.

"You can't play Quidditch, Almeida." Heather stated with an incredulous smile.

Oh, do I amuse you, bitch? Check this out. "I can play Quidditch. For your information, I'm trying out for the team this year, and I'm going to make it."

She only smirked. "Where did you learn to play?"

"Sylvia's house. We practice every summer with her brothers."

Heather nodded, her disbelief obvious. But I was a Slytherin, and no Slytherin ever admits she's lying. "And what position are you trying out for?"

"Keeper." I retorted quickly and coolly, trying to make it somewhat believable.

"Ooh, we have a Keeper here", she taunted clasping her hands together over her chest. "I'll see you on our match, Aurora. But you'll be watching me from the stands."

With a final smirk and a swing of her hips, she left me and Sylvia, the latter looking disbelievingly at me.

"Heather Huntington is a conniving, evil little Witch-Bitch that needs to die. Die. Die." I said calmly massaging my scalp in order to get rid of my fury.

Sylvia continued looking at me. "I have no brothers. Only a baby sister, which I wouldn't mind not having."

"I know."

"And Slytherin already has a Keeper."

"Shite."

Hey guys, I rewrote the chapter and I'm so happier with it right now, I am also reposting it. Please tell me what you think

xoxo