Author's Note: Whoa! My second post in one day. I am on a role now that I have broken that writers block. Check out my other new story "Savior." Enjoy!
My Many Titles
I am Pansy Parkinson, and I am known for many things: the hysterical outburst girl; the girl who wanted to hand over Harry Potter to the Dark Lord; the bitch of Hogwarts; the ugly ass pug-faced girl; a sloppy whore; and Malfoy's leftovers. The last is the reputation I hate the most, and the one I least deserve.
The Hysterical Outburst Girl
Yes, I am very emotional. If I am upset, you will see me cry. If I am mad, I will scream, stomp my feet, and hex anything that gets in my way. If I love you, you will know it. If I hate you, you will definitely know it. For members of the old families, it is not acceptable to behave this way, but I just can't help it. I would prefer to not age prematurely. Bottling up emotions only causes wrinkles and gray hairs. My mother and Narcissa are proof of that. Why do you think people always describe them as looking as if they smell something nasty? It's because they aged too soon, and their faces are fucked up. If making a scene in public is what I have to do to avoid looking that way, then excuse me, but that's what I am going to do.
The Girl Who Wanted to Hand Over Harry Potter to the Dark Lord (i.e. End the War)
Of course I wanted to hand over Harry fucking Potter. All we had to do was give the Dark Lord what he wanted and it would have all been over. Finally, it would have all been over. Instead tons of people died or were maimed and the whole castle was wrecked. Excuse me for trying to stop a full out battle in the easiest way possible. I didn't give a damn who won the war. I just wanted everything to stop.
The Bitch of Hogwarts
Have you ever noticed that if a guy is assertive and pushy then he is Merlin's gift to the wizarding world, but if a woman is assertive and pushy then she is a wailing banshee bitch? It's a ridiculous double standard. I don't let people walk all over me, and I speak my mind, damn it. Excuse me for being honest and trying to get what I want at all possible costs. If you want to call me a bitch then fine. It means I am doing something right.
The Ugly Ass Pug-Faced Girl
People are just jealous of my aristocratic, upturned nose and gorgeous big eyes.
Sloppy Whore
I like sex. Who doesn't? If you don't, you are lying, an idiot, or a virgin. It feels good, and I love the power trip. When a guy's muscles tense, his head drops back, and his eyelids slip close, I know that I must be one sexy bitch to get such a reaction.
Malfoy's Leftovers
Damn him to Hell. He has such a convenient little cover story to save his pale ass. He used the war as his excuse or more specifically our families' post-war disgraceful reputations. The damn Greengrass family kept their heads down and their noses clean during the war, so they were able to maintain their wealth and reputation. Since both the Parkinson family and the Malfoy family lost almost everything, there was no longer anything to be gained by marrying me. Actually, it would hurt them even more stripping away the little bit of respect people found for Narcissa after Potter publically thanked her for revealing his non-death to the Dark Lord. It was this factoid that let them keep the Malfoy Manor. See isn't that such a convenient cover. In actuality, I broke up with Draco the first time he hit me.
The Slytheriens were throwing a party in the common room. It was the normal deal with lots of butter beer and fire whiskey. I left the party for a bit to make a run to the kitchen for some snacks. When I got back to the common room, Draco was in a corner whispering with a slutty fourth year. She had her tiny hands on the waistband of his pants, and he was leaning into her. She was giggling stupidly at whatever he said. I stared at them for a few moments my blood starting to boil. He felt my eyes on him and looked up at me. I flipped him off and then headed for the stairs, by the time I had made it to the third flight he caught up with me. He roughly grabbed my arm and pulled me around.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yanked my arm out of his grasp.
"I saw that disgusting show you were putting on with that little slag. I'm not going to let you embarrass me, you bastard." As soon as I finished my rant, he swung at me. His fist caught me in the corner of the mouth, and I felt myself lose balance. I tumbled down the flight of stairs to the level corner wider than the rest of the stairs. I lay on the cool wood completely dazed. I heard Draco's feet pound down the stairs as he raced to me. I lifted my head up experimentally. I felt fine, bruised, but nothing broken. I slumped back against the wall and tasted blood in my mouth. I brought my finger tips to the corner of my mouth and felt the stickiness. I looked up at Draco who had just reached my side. He bent with his arm extended to help me up.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed. I glared at him. He snapped up and looked down at me shocked. "You will never touch me again. You will never speak to me again. Go back to your whore and knock her around." By now I had gotten to my feet. I slid past him and ran up to my room.
After that night, he never did touch me. He never did speak to me. I knew he wanted to though. He wanted to beg me never to tell anyone, but he didn't have anything to worry about. I would never tell. I would never be the victim.
Author's Note: As always, please review. And if you liked this one shot check out my old story "Love Me Dead." It's one of my personal favorites, but it has gotten the least reader response of any of my stories. Maybe it is just too dark or weird or something. Thanks for reading!