A/N: I should probably add several disclaimers/trigger warnings so you can't say I didn't tell you so.

#1: These characters aren't mine. This world isn't mine. They belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing and Warner Bros.

#2: This story contains scenes and allusions to rape and eating disorders which may act as a trigger to some people. Fair warning.

#3: This should be obvious but I don't actually condone any of my characters' actions (duh) and I'm not pushing any 'agenda' in this story.

So, this is basically a story which follows the basic 'bare-bones' structure of Gossip Girl/Cruel Intentions/Les Liaisons Dangereuses but set in Hogwarts with next gen characters. It's an idea I thought would be fun to write and it started off as tongue-in-cheek social commentary but quickly evolved into something a bit darker. I'll try to better straddle the divide between comedy and drama. I'm also really unhappy with the prologue, just fyi, but I do know who's 'narrating' it, if you will.

So, without further ado...

The It Crowd

Mum says I should keep a diary of my sixth year at Hogwarts because it's your final two years that really count. Of course she'd say that. She was involved in a battle of epic proportions in her final two years. I'm involved in a battle myself, in a way; a battle of social proportions. Except, it isn't fought with wands and Unforgivable curses. It's fought with catty words spilled from pretty lips coated in Madame Catterall Diamond Shine Gloss. It isn't a race to the final horcrux, it's a race to the final pair of Zingotti stilettos that Victoire Weasley was spotted wearing last week. It's a constant battle that started sometime in the third year and, at this rate, will probably never let up. In first and second year, there were no cliques. No 'it crowd'. Sure, the Potters and Weasleys received a disproportionate amount of attention because of their family's involvement in the war. But eleven and twelve year olds care about little more than which house they're put in and when they'll learn a spell that's actually useful to their lives.

It was in third year that groups were clearly demarcated. Some of the older students would take the third years under their tutelage, so to speak. Train them to preside over Hogwarts' social scene. The choices were obvious. Cocky, suave James Potter with his mussed black hair and cheeky brown eyes glinting from behind round frames identical to his famous father's. Beautiful, intelligent Rose Weasley with her shiny chocolate hair and staggering IQ. The athletic, 'rough around the edges' twosome of Dominique Weasley and Lily Potter – beaters for the Gryffindor quidditch squad. Dominique isn't as beautiful as her older sister, Victoire, and while it seems like her Veela genes have failed her, nepotism gets you far in Hogwarts. Lily, on the other hand, is tall and model thin with pin-straight red hair and big brown eyes.

Then there's Victoire's personal favourite and right-hand woman, Roxanne Weasley. She may not have had Victoire's blinding beauty or Rose's impressive brains, but her social climbing was not to be scoffed at. She evolved from a wallflower no one took notice of, to dating the second most in demand boy at school – Lysander Scamander – and dangling the rest of her year around her finger. This might finally be the year she tumbles down the social stratosphere, though. Not even she can survive the devastating rumours that she's been doing the horizontal jig with the infamous Scorpius Malfoy.

You're not going to get anyone more 'in the know' about these scandalous kids than me. So you can continue admiring them from afar, speculating on their deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets…or you can keep reading as I take you through a year at Hogwarts, playground of the wealthy and famous' children.

I know who's fucking their boyfriend's best friend, who's not as into women as he would have you believe, and who can credit her svelte figure to something a little more than a healthy lifestyle. It's going to be crazy.

.theitcrowd.