A/N: This was just something quick that came into my head while drawing and listening to a mega playlist of All Time Low and Panic! at the Disco combined, and it just kinda... flowed into existence. The character who's POV this is from is actually not at all like this in my own personal headcanon, but still.
Enjoy and review if you want, or whatever, you know..
Disclaimer: I, Charlie L.E. Scarwood, now solemnly swear that I do not, in fact, own Harry Potter, which to be quite honest does not bother me at all. I don't know, if it was mine, I'd be deprived of writing fanfiction... or so I think.
And if we were to talk about Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived - Well, owning people has never really been my thing, so no-go for that, too.
And lastly, if you like it, check out my other fic 'The Tapestry of Black'. It's full to the brim with OCs, is being updated when I feel like it, and I have no idea WHERE it's heading. But try it out, you might like it :)
That said, bye-ah and here's the story.
Dominique was a bitch. A masochistic slut who was too stuck-up to see that she had been destined to be one from the moment her great-grandmother touched a man.
Someone she should never have, under any circumstances, touched in such a way.
Victoire was a slag, a girl good only as a clip-on to Teddy's shoulder, someone to call his name when he fucked her like there was no tomorrow. Someone to use.
Louis was a prick. Quiet and subdued, ever the poster-child for innocence. But he was mean, he liked to show so in small, barely noticeable ways that didn't miss her eye.
Molly was pretentious, her smile the most fake thing she had ever seen, her little sister, Lucy - not much better at all. Both Prefects, both perfect, typically the children of Percy, just as could have been expected.
Fred was empty in the head. He was stupid, just a sidekick to do James' dirty deeds.
Roxie was a mastermind, a sadistic socio-path with problems so complex not even Rose could solve them.
Rose was a nosy little wasp, so kind until you showed her skin to sting, always trying to help, but never wanting to mend.
Hugo was the only of them she had ever remotely liked, but then he had turned out to be a miniature version of his father, only thirty times worse. Boastful, jealous, overbearing.
He had never let a boy step near her until she had told him to back off.
Teddy was a fool. Wrapped around the finger of someone who was so obviously meant to be wrapped around his. He was wasting his potential, stealing minutes off his life just to waste them with that girl, when he could be doing things so much better, when he could be spending time with her.
James was immature. An insufferable know-it-all just like their dear aunt, yet clueless. So painfully clueless.
Albus was detached. The lone wolf, so solitary, so self-sufficient, never there for her. Never there.
They were all idiots, such idiots. She hated them so - she wished for them to disappear.
She ran a hand through the grass in their backyard, just under her window, the patches of green that passed under her fingers freezing, turning grey.
Maybe if they all just turned grey, then maybe she'd be happy.
They were all idiots, such bloody idiots.
Yet none of them were as horrible as her.