Hey guys, I got a new story idea today, but I'm not entirely sure where it's going to go, so feed back would be pretty nice... But this is how I got the idea: I was sitting in one of the classrooms in school after finishing my British Literature Midterm (yes this week's over! Woo-hoo!) Yeah, they give us one hour for the test and I finished it in twenty… hmmm… so anyway, I kinda have an interest in the guy that sat in front of me, and I was just staring at the back of his head while he was taking the test and I got bit with the plot bunny.
Now t his could've been for the fact that we call him Marcus Flint, okay, so he looks like him, with less moldy teeth, but all in all, they look pretty much the same, but I got the idea for this, I hope you all enjoy and please if you could give me feed back on this.. You're at control here!
Don't own it...
It was Transfiguration. I hate Transfiguration. All those damn brown nosing, annoying, know-it-all Gryffindors. Damn them all to hell. Another five points to Gryffindor. Bloody annoying, kiss ass Gryffindors!
I can't help but scowl and wish that we were in the dungeons, but Potions wasn't until after lunch. I sigh, oh well; at least the view is nice. Ha, I've got to laugh at that, all of my friends think I'm insane. Can I blame them? Well after living with me for almost seven years they still can't understand how or why. Or even when for that matter. When did I ever fall for Marcus Flint?
That was the last thing that I had expected, but I had been to one of our games versus Gryffindor. Damn them again. But I hated Quidditch, more probably because I was never allowed to play it, but now getting to actually watch and be this close to the action, I was obsessed.
I was watching one of the lead Chasers; he was amazing, soaring around on his broom and scoring nearly all of the goals, not to mention knocking a few of those Gryffindors off their own. What can I say? I like an aggressive guy.
"Heh," I said quietly to myself. There he was though. Sitting right in front of me. His tall frame hiding Professor McGonagall from my view, and her from seeing me. His short black hair and sexy shoulders. What can I say? I like hugs.
Anyway, the great thing, he was supposed to graduate last year, but he got held back, so now he'd repeating, which puts him in most of my classes. I was so depressed when I thought he was graduating but then he came storming into the Commons raving that he couldn't graduate because of his grades and that he'd have to be back next year.
I jumped for joy. I never jump for joy…