I never really spoke my mind once I started Hogwarts. Before, I was a bright, bold young girl who spoke her mind and loved to laugh. Now, just look at me.
My favorite color is blue. Everyone thinks that it's green, because my eyes are, but it's not. When I was starting Hogwarts, the girls in my dorm looked at me as if I was crazy when I told them my favorite color was blue. Eventually, I figured out that liking blue was wrong, so I told everyone I was joking, and really, how could my favorite color not be emerald green?
When I bought dress robes, I looked longingly at the beautiful pink dresses, but just because my hair was red, and even though I looked lovely in pink, the color would clash, and really, green matches my eyes. So, of course, I ignored the pink and blue ones, and went for the green.
By fourth year, I understood how things worked. You don't laugh too loud, you giggle. You don't say yes to James Potter, or else you look like you're overeager. And you definitely don't like blue.
By the time I actually made it to seventh year, by the time I said yes to James Potter, I couldn't recognize myself. I wore layers of makeup, owned millions of green things, and I didn't have anything blue. I didn't say what I felt; I said what the right thing to say was. I didn't laugh, even when things were funny. I did what everyone else said was right. I hated myself.
Eventually, James asked me to marry him. I wanted to say no, tell him we were too young, scream to the world that I wanted to live first, but everyone else said it was the right time, so I agreed. At the wedding, we didn't follow any muggle traditions because everyone else said that it would look odd. And I didn't wear anything blue.
We bought a pretty little house, because my friends told me that the beautiful house I inherited was blue, and out of style. I'm the perfect little housewife, cooking and cleaning. All my intelligence has gone to waste, and now all I do is take care of the house and little Harry.
Now, here I am, running up the stairs, trying to get away from this madman. I hug little Harry, wrapped in a blue blanket, close to me, and swear I'll die before anyway touches him.
Why did I become like this? People say they would die to have magic in their blood. I would die to never hear the word 'magic'. I wish so many things right now, but most of all, I wished I hadn't changed, and I still loved blue.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
A/N: This idea came to me just because I feel like peer pressure had to be at Hogwarts. I would like constructive critism, but if you review saying something like 'you suck' then, umm . . . Great for you!