2nd December 2022

This is so fucking stupid.

I'm no Anne bloody Frank, I have nothing interesting in my life to report, so why on earth are my deranged parents forcing me to write a diary.

Actually while on the subject of being mistreated grotesquely by my sadistic parents let me also enquire as to why they thought I was in need of counseling?

I understand that I have quite a temper and am constantly bitter and sexual frustrated (what 16 year old is still a virgin? Yeah just me, welcome to my pity party, help yourself to sorrow and misery and we have none other than defensive, desperate bitch for your entertainment).

Slight tangent there, let's move back to the circumference of my shitty life, oh yeah so I get angry, big deal, doesn't mean that I need to be labeled a freak and see a sodding counsellor, it just means that I'm a Weasley through and through.

We are infamous for being hot headed, my hair is flaming red for goodness sake! So why fight fate?

I guess I blew my last chance.

I'll relive it for the purposes of my future self or any git who thinks it's acceptable to read someone's diary to understand how I got myself into this predicament not because I'm enjoying writing a diary, because I'm not, I'd rather drink puppy blood while bathing in acid and having a civil conversation with Malfoy.

So here goes: Monday mornings are difficult enough without having muggle studies and sharing a desk with Malfoy first thing. After the Great War Headmistress McGonagall made attending muggle studies once a week obligatory so that there wouldn't be such a prejudice towards muggles or muggle born.

Also in an effort to improve house relations she has encouraged professors to seat students among other houses.

I did try to suggest to her that all we need to do was publically hang the Malfoys to make an example of how ignorance and down right arseholeness will not be tolerated however I was just met with a cold silence and disturbed look.

That's why I am stuck in muggle studies, next to Malfoy, on a Monday morning. If I have the devils child, I'll name it something beginning with 'M' because that is clearly popular with all things evil.

To make muggle studies more authentic, we sit in a typical muggle classroom. A small unimpressive room with wonky desks, squeaky chairs and awful posters made by the first years on the wall.

We also have a muggle teacher, who I must remark is quite dashing. No older than 25, with dark brown hair and warm, comfortable chocolate eyes. He is quite lanky with thin arms and legs, but is very fashionable; he is what my muggle friends call 'indie' as he wore vintage shirts, skinny jeans and big glasses. He had the geek-sheek look down. He could do me like a mathematical equation any day, I'm sure he could find X up my..(there is my crass mind again, damn hormones).

Moving on swiftly, as I entered along with Iver (my bud - a muggle word we picked up because we thought 'best friend' is just not right to label our relationship). I saw Malfoy sprawled across our table, smiling smugly at me.

"What? Shagged another hippogriff and are bursting to tell me every disgusting detail? Well save your breath Malfoy, it's not something to brag about." I spat while pushing all his junk to his part of the desk.

All eyes were on us eager to witness another infamous Weasley-Malfoy spit.

"At least I get some, enlighten us, when was the last time a guy even touched you?"

"Malfoy, I don't get these bags under my eyes for nothing, I was up all last night making passionate, hot, steamy love to your father. Damn those death eaters really know how to eat, if you understand what I'm referring to". I saw his eyes darken, I was accustomed to make DE (death eater) jokes to piss of my parents as it was a life time ago that I forgot how much it affected him.

"What did you call my father?" He challenged me.

"Err.. A sex-god?" I looked at him puzzlingly. I had gone this far; I might as well win this one "oh were you referring to me calling him a death eater? Because he was one and a sexy one too".

Hearing it again seemed to tick something off in him, his demeanor turned aggressive and he got up violently, overturning the pathetic little muggle table and his chair, he whipped out his wand and jinxed me before I could react.

Immediately all my auburn waist length hair started falling to the floor and soon there was a mountain of red near my feet. I slowly and apprehensively reached for my head and as soon as my hand touched my smooth baldhead I shrieked and shouted profanities at him.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM MALFOY? IT WAS A FUCKING JOKE." I looked around the class and everyone was suppressing giggles, even Iver cracked a smile (see not exactly best friend material).

I had to respond, and it had to be good. I pointed my wand to light bulbs on the ceiling and muttered a spell vehemently then flicked my wand to point at Malfoy. The light bulbs suddenly came to life and targeted Malfoy, flying at him with high speed. Needless to say once he got over the original shock he was able to dodge every bulb. Damn his Quiddich skills.

"Merlin, what's wrong with you? Why are you shooting muggle light bulbs at me?" he inquired while still dodging.

"Because you need to lighten the fuck up!" angry was seeping out of every pore in my body, yet when I heard the rest of the class laugh at my response, I allowed myself a victory smile, revenge is sweet but laughing at Malfoy's expense is euphoric.

Mental note: Humiliate Malfoy in front of people more.

I realize in hindsight that I should have stopped while I was ahead and regained composure before Professor Sexy came in, yet in the heat of the moment I couldn't stop.

"It was a sodding joke so take it-" I targeted the last remaining light bulb a little to the left judging his reaction "-lightly" I finished as the light bulb went soaring through the air. Just as I suspected Malfoy turned a little left to dodge it and the light bulb hit him square on the forehead.

The glass shattered and many pieces lodged themselves in his skin and blood flowed freely down. As I was in close proxemics some pieces hit me too, I felt slight sharp pains when they landed and I too was bleeding.

The rest was a blur. Malfoy's face, full of pain, anger and hatred is still imprinted in my head. I know that I took it too far but I am way to proud to admit that to my parents and apologising to Malfoy is so absurd that I actually laughed for a good 5 minutes at the suggestion till I realized that my mum wasn't joking then I ran faster than a bloody snitch before she could make me.

So my parents have decided that enough was enough, I need professional help. Bullshit.

Shit, I'm late for my rounds with Lysander Scamander. I swear to God if that boy tries to ward of Nargles by spraying radish water on me again I will go Voldemort on his arse.

Oh the joys of being a prefect.

A/N: The song for this Chapter is Cherry Bomb by the Runaways. I like to think of Rose as a young Cherie Currie: being sexy, wild and presumptuous. The song just perfectly captures how I want her to be depicted.

So this is my first ever chapter of my first ever fan fiction story. Constructive criticism would be brilliant or just let me know what you think of the story. I hate those guys who beg for reviews, its like honestly have some pride. I mean reviews would be appreciated but if you don't want to thats cool too... I'm sorry, I'm showing off that I am fluent bullshit. PLEASE REVIEW :)