Summary: Millicent Bulstrode tells it like it is.
Author's note: The next fic in line to be dredged up from my past and archived on ff.n. I wrote this in 2005 for Violet's Quill's Voices and Vaginas of HP Women Challenge. I suppose it's less a fic than a character study. It is perhaps a bit heavy-handed and raw, but I make no apologies for that, as I can see Millicent's character having that sort of edge to her.

I Will Not Play the Martyr

I will not play the martyr. There are many things I hate, but one of the worst is whining. Life's dealt me a tough hand, yeah, but so what? I'd rather kiss Granger than start sniveling about my lot in life.

Another thing that rivals whining is this load of rubbish they try to pass off as politeness and good manners. I see no reason to be anything but blunt--we'd save a lot of time and effort if people would just say what they mean and have done with it. Besides, I've found that a little bluntness goes a long way to discouraging all the nattering bints who want to unload their petty complaints of spotty noses, demanding parents, and ungrateful boys.

So, you started having your period? You're bleeding and cramping and feeling like you're going to die? Good for you--now you're just like half the world. If you don't shut your gob about it, I'll give you a bloody nose to match.

You think you're fat? Hah, you don't know what fat is! I'm fat--not 'big-boned' or statuesque or well-endowed or any of those other silly euphemisms you use to sidestep a simple fact. You want me to say it again? I'm fat! And, you know what? I don't mind a bit. If someone doesn't like it, that's just their tough luck, 'cause it's my body, and I like it just fine.

You think you're ugly and no one likes you? Ah, now you're getting somewhere! You're uglier than a hippogriff's arse, and no one likes you because you're always whinging about everything. Have some backbone and take a little pride in yourself. If that pansy you call a boyfriend constantly harasses you about the size of your waist or the time you spend away from him or whatever nonsense, then tell him to get lost. Full stop, no waffling.

I will not play the martyr, and I'm sure as hell not going to sit around listening to you try to be one.