Disclaimer: everything from HP Books belongs to JK Rowling
Gryffindor
She likes the quiet, the quietness of the Astronomy Tower, sitting in a dark corner of the common room, resting on a window sill. She needs serenity and silence, room to breath. Life has been suffocating her, taking away her very breath.
She's sitting on the window sill in her common room. Her straight red hair is in a pony tail out of her eyes. She looks around her, at the arm chairs, the roaring fire, the ceiling, trying to ignore the constant buzzing in her ear of her dorm mates who constantly follow her around, who have pointed out exactly how meaningless life has become. She looks around her at the scarlet and the gold; sometimes she wishes she wasn't a Gryffindor.
It was great in the beginning, being a Gryffindor and all; it was everything she dreamed it would be, everything she wanted. Her parents, her wonderful parents, were so proud when they were informed. Another Gryffindor in the family, another lion in the den. And she embraced it, embraced this house, because for so long it was as if this was her destiny. She was meant for this house, for the bravery and perfection. Gryffindor and her, it just fit.
She wipes away a tear slowly falling down her cheek and turns her head towards the window again. Something changed since first year, so much had been brought to light. She's come to discover something about this house, about her family away from home. It's all so fake, one big show all Gryffindors put on for the entire world. It's a pretense, all one big lie.
She faintly hears a second year yelling something about bravery and righteousness and laughs sarcastically to herself. Bravery? Righteousness? For once she wants to meet someone not so set on doing the right thing, who doesn't always have to be the hero, who doesn't always have to be the best. Gryffindors are so arrogant and so cocky and whenever she talks to one of her "friends" she feels like knocking them on the head yelling at them to get over it. They aren't brave, she thinks. Gryffindors are all cowards hiding behind confident smiles and excessive pride. Being a Gryffindor, it means nothing.
Well, it does mean something. It means being the best, in winning every game, tournament, bet, etc., in having the best grades, in being the best looking. Gryffindors are the epitome of perfection and every single person knows it. She shakes her head slightly as she thinks that. She closes her eyes remembering a few months ago when those beliefs still rang true in her mind. She remembers her haughty laugh and vain smirk. She remembers sticking her nose up in the air and looking down upon anyone who didn't wear a lion emblem on their vest. Others were of no importance to her. Those who didn't wear scarlet and gold didn't matter.
Superficial. It's the word that comes to her mind every time she looks around one of her classrooms or dormitory. Gryffindors are all about appearance, in looking like the best athletes, the best students. They're all about reputation and social standing and she's sick of it all. She remembers when being a Gryffindor meant something, meant goodness, meant charity. She looks around the common room again, all it once was has become a lie, it's meaningless.
She sometimes wonders what it's like to be in other houses. She wonders if Ravenclaws go through this. If they really study a lot because it's what pleases the individuals or do they do it just for the spot light. Would she feel like she's dying of she wore their colors? Would she be happy? She wonders about the hufflepuffs and their loyalty. Is that all a pretense as well? Are they really so faithful, so honest? She looks out the window again, her eyes finally dry, and she doubts it. She doubts any houses sincerity, well almost any houses.
She's come to realize that Slytherin has to be the most honest house. They have no show, no pretense. They don't try to make themselves look good, don't care if the spotlight is on them or if they appear to be the best. Slytherin is about individuality, about being your own person and the more she thinks about that the more she wonders what it would be like to be a Slytherin, to be evil.
She sometimes stands in front of her mirror practicing cold smirks and emotionless faces. She's mastered their cunning look, the mischief always in their eyes. She wants to be cunning and ruthless and, she wants to be herself. To her Slytherin doesn't resemble the dark side, death eaters in training. Slytherin resembles freedom, her way out that's always just out of reach.
She stares at them, at their darkly beautiful faces and green and white ties. She's taken to wearing green lately making lies to her friends about how the color brings out her eyes. She feels gypped, lied to for her entire life. Since she was three she's been learning that Gryffindor is everything good and Slytherin is everything evil. She's been learning about Gryffindor's morals and virtues and lies about Slytherin's dishonesty and betraying nature. Slytherins are cold and cruel and more evil then any other students to the school, but as she looks to her friends and see them smile arrogantly bragging about the last Quidditch game, she can't help but think about Slytherin, they're the most honest people she knows.
She has a year left at Hogwarts. A year left wearing scarlet and gold, a year of left of lies. She feels no sorrow about leaving this place. She needs to get away. Each day she spends in the castle she feels a noose tightening around her neck. She feels like she's dying, drowning in a sea of lies and facades with no one even noticing she's there. She sometimes runs into the forest and just screams as loud as she can clearing away all of her frustrations. Then, quietly, she'll walk back to the tower, to the velvet chairs and huge roaring fire, and sit with her friends. There she'll join in on the bragging, make jokes about other houses, and pretend everything is okay, pretend that she's the best. But she always has a parchment out to doodle on. She'll always be drawing snake emblems on a piece of paper as she smiles confidently, smiles like a Gryffindor. Because she is a Gryffindor, putting on a façade comes naturally to her.
End (Ginny)
Like it? Hate it?
Review!!! Review!!! Review!!!