I'm the girl they used to feel sorry for.
Poor little Hufflepuff, Lily Luna Potter.
Though I know I wasn't, not ever, supposed to be in Hufflepuff.
You are cunning. Very Cunning. Yet, it is, I find, rather strange that you want to be underestimated. But, dear girl, you should be a Slytherin like that of your brother. Your father would've done well in Slytherin.
Not Slytherin, not Slytherin. I don't need their stress on me. More expectations.
A Potter in Hufflepuff… Hmm, what a strange request.
I can curse the life out of you, I can, I bet. So you put me in Hufflepuff this instant!
Try me. I'm fucking immortal.
Harsh Language. Try again.
Bitch.
Beep, wrong answer.
You deserve Slytherin, you twisted minded prat!
Try me. I can beat you. I will be in Hufflepuff.
Make me, bitch.
"Crucio,"
That inflicted me no pain.
Shut up, liar. I'll get better. You're a fucking hat.
My, my, watch your language.
Make me.
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Those were the exact words of my sorting. It's not like I have to remember any others.
Oh, and one more thing.
I'm not the type to be fucking nervous.
That's Hugo.
Not me.
No matter if we were friends or not or if we are fucking joined to the hip or not I do not stutter. Or get nervous.
That's definitely Hugo.
So, I am not at all nervous about seeing the crazy person doctor.
Yeah.
I'm in the insanity ward of St Mungos. Al and I have to come here to get over the fucking loss of our brother.
Wah wah wah.
"Ms Potter, you may come in now. I am ready for you," A healer calls. I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk in. She's too busy examining her notes to notice me, so I dump my bag on the floor and lean back on my chair so that it teeters on the two back legs of the chair.
"Now, Ms Potter, or Lily, whichever you prefer," She says with a sickening smile, "I am Healer Jones, but feel free to call me Mandy," The chair slams on all four feet with a crash as she said this.
"Lily, Mango juice," I say, not even bothering to get her name right. She sighs and scribbles something else down on a clipboard that I can't see. Probably something about whether or not I'm right in the head.
"Now, Lily, it's Mandy," Healer Jones, as I've decided to call her, corrects me with the tiniest bit of irritation creeping in, "I understand the tragic loss of your brother, James, and how sad and confused you must feel. You are only eighteen, after all. And I give my most sincere sympathies to you, I really do,"
"I know he's fucking dead," I sigh, deciding to get to the point, "But I also know I'm not crazy. That's mum. So I'm just gonna leave you to it, Mango Juice,"
I snicker, realising that's the colour of her hair. She must have just realised that too, for her face is turning red in anger and her thick Mango coloured eyebrows are kneading together. I grab my bag off the floor and turn and walk out before she can say another word.
See? I'm not the nervous type. Not at all.
