AN*i was listenting to Jolene which inspired me to write this, so naturally Dolly is being acredditted, and it somewhat turned itself into a drabblish thing about why Orla Quike, who does as a matter of fact exsit, hates Astoria so very, very much. it is also a sort of spin off of the events in And Well, It Had Been Nice because i'm not all to sure Jessie would do that to Astoria but i believe Orla would (well cuz she did) but only if she felt threatened in soe way. so i've rambled long enough enjoy
disclaimer- I d not own Harry Potter, or song Jolene, i just get inspired by them.
Astoria, Astoria, Astoria, Astoria…that's all you could here on the train, in the great hall, and by the common room fire, and it was beginning to make Orla Quike feel quite ill. What was so special about smart, pretty, little Astoria anyway? So what if she grew out of her awkward phase over the summer holiday, she still had her awkward personality, no matter how pretty she looked, and it would do everyone some good to remember that. Perhaps she should remind them…yes, that was a splendid idea.
Orla didn't really like acting like a bitch, she just had to. Orla was as much of an idiot as she was an intentional bitch, I mean she was a Ravenclaw, it was just that well…
IT WASN'T FAIR! Astoria was perfect in every conceivable way. Orla couldn't even begin to compare her putrid green eyes to the delicate olive eyes Astoria had, with her long thick lashes that weren't black and garish looking, but the same delicate shade as her hair. Hair that was long and fell into soft curls spun tight like stacks of coins, Orla could practically hear them clinking as they wound down to her mid back, dancing with the slightest movement. Unlike her drab waves, her boring brown one dimensional, brown waves. While there was Astoria with her mahogany locks that leaned more towards the dark side, really making her eyes gleam in the light. Her complexion was nothing short of flawless. With her light dusting of freckles giving her a sort of eternal look of innocence and youth which sat atop skin that must be soft seeing as Orla could practically feel it just from looking at it.
Jessie saw it to. Jessie as in the one and only person Orla was ever sure she'd ever had, could and would love. He tried to pretend he didn't, but Orla wasn't stupid, we already established that. She saw the way he looked at her, the way his eye's followed her down the corridor, traced the path her hair took as it swayed back and forth, and counted her freckles. Orla had watched him watch her. She had also heard him talk to her.
Jessie, who was supposed to be her boyfriend, had spoken to Astoria Greengrass, had flirted with Astoria Greengrass and had asked out Astoria Greengrass.
Astoria Greengrass was the real bitch if anyone, for she said yes. But Astoria was perfect, undeniably so, so she isn't a bitch. And therefore neither was Orla.
She had to do it; she had to get Jessie a detention, so that he couldn't make his date with little miss perfect. She had to let him trust her with relaying the message to Astoria; she had to deliver a different one. So what if she lied to both there face's, so what if she had arangged for Astoria to be dressed as an omellette, so what if the entire dorm knows it's all because of her that Astoria occasionally cries herself to sleep. Orla never did it to be mean, she did it to protect herself. Her happiness.
Nobody can have everything, so consequentially perfect people can't have happiness. At least, not mine.