The Good Girl
I'm supposed to be the good one. I'm the smart kid, the bookworm, and the know-it-all. Everyone knows my name. Yet no one, especially my best friends, knows the real me. How ironic is it that I am more my self with my supposed worst enemy than I am with my best friends? They all think I'm so innocent. Oh how surprised they would be if they learned about what I do on Thursday afternoons. It started as just an entertaining way to pass the time. There was no real affection between us. We would meet in an abandoned classroom on the 5th floor. He found it so amusing that the female member of the golden trio was so free with her affections. While I was entertained that the beautiful blonde Slytherin was into the mudblood Gryffndork. Slowly though it went from meeting every Thursday just to be physical to meeting every free minute to talk. I felt more like myself when I was with him then I did when I was alone, or with anyone else. We kept up appearances though, to everyone else's eyes we still hated each other. It got harder and harder to look upon his smirking face, and tell myself he didn't really mean the terrible things he was saying. In potions, during a particularly nasty bit of name calling from him, I couldn't help but tear up a little. This look of shock then sadness crossed his face. He took a step towards me then caught himself and turned away. At this point silent tears were running down my face. He turned back towards meand, to the shock of the entire class an one very greasy potions professor, folded me into his arms.
A.N. I post and delete random stories all the time. This isn't really the complete thought I had for the story its more like a tiny prolouge. I was just wondering if anyone would find it interesting. If you think the idea is worthy of a continuation please let me know.