Preface
I was born to be a Slytherin.
A pureblood with ambitious and cold parents, a ruthless attitude, and a lust for power and knowledge. I always wanted the upper hand in every situation, and I wasn't afraid to fight for it. I was intelligent, not with a logical mind, like Ravenclaws, but with a determined, narcissitic one. My decisions were usually made by what I thought would be best for me, or I would choose the option that benefited my family and I the most.
Yes, I was a stereotypical Slytherin.
No one was surprised in the least bit when the Sorting Hat screamed out I was to be put in the House of the Snakes. I was accepted without a doubt, welcomed with open arms like my brother and sister had been.
And James Potter was the spitting image of a Gryffindor: an arrogant sense of bravery and loyalty, but a lack of wits. And, just like his parents and cousins, he was put into Gryffindor as soon as the hat touched the crown of his head.
Of course, there were a few exceptions to these standards, but not many. Throughout my entire life at Hogwarts, it was usually easy to tell who would be put in what House. But, then again, I was good at telling that type of stuff.
James and I had always had an unexplained rivalry. I suppose it was because we hated each other's houses, and since I was an obvious Slytherin and he a Gryffindor, we were destined to bicker constantly. I could never like someone like James, and he could never enjoy the company of someone like me.
It got worse when we both started playing Quidditch. I was extremely aggressive while he was very cocky and so confident. While we had fairly equal teams, we were both so anxious to prove we were better and more talented. I cannot explain how enraged he was when his brother Albus was sorted into Slytherin and joined my team; he is probably one of the best Seekers Slytherin has ever seen. He has won us many games.
I was an excellent chaser, but so was he. When we got into fights on the pitch, we usually need to be physically ripped apart. Now that I look back on all of those fights, I'm a bit ashamed by my foolishness. I should be better than that, but he knows just what buttons to press to make me go mad. I can't stand being in the same room as him for longer than three minutes.
He drives me crazy, to say the very least. Albus Potter is, however, a very different story.
Yes, Albus has many Gryffindor qualities, but he's enthusiastic and desirous - respectable attributes. He's mostly quiet and attentive, not loud and obnoxious like James, and an amazing Quidditch player like all of the Potters. I don't mind having a conversation with him; sometimes, I can even relate to him.
The Potters are an admirable and honorable family, though. They're close and love each other dearly, something my family doesn't have.
I have two siblings: Marcus and Mariette. Mariette is attending her last year of Hogwarts and my brother is working for the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Both are notorious Slytherins, and its sometimes difficult to break free of their shadows. But my aspirations are very different from theirs: I want to continue in Quidditch. My father is not upset with this decision, but my mother is extremely opposed and doesn't support this idea.
My family is one of the well-known Slytherin, pureblooded families. Marcus and Calliope Flint are fierce. They have a reputation that becomes them. But my family was never close, and it never will be. Sometimes, I can't stop myself from wondering what I would have been like if I'd been born into a kind family with parents who actually loved me. Would I have been different, a stranger to my personality as of now? Or was I destined to be so dark?
I'll never know.
But this is reality. And its never going to get better.
My name is Rosalie Flint, and this is my story. My life.