Faerie, Air: open, breathe
World Cup, France vs Australia: "If you're going to be two faced, at least make one of them pretty."
Character Appreciation: vengeance
Amber's Attic, Dysfunctional: Write about someone lashing out
Word Count: 468
Millicent feels the blood in her veins turn to fire. Blaise had tried to warn her against getting close to Pansy, but she hadn't listened. She had been a bloody idiot and confided some of her deepest, darkest secrets in a girl known for her cruelty and loose tongue. Now, her secrets are out in the open.
People have always looked at Millicent like she's some sort of freak. Even her own Housemates see her as some brutish creature. The way they looked at her before is nothing compared to this. At least they used to try to be subtle about it. Now, they stare openly and whisper to one another.
There's Millicent.
There's the girl who says she starves herself.
It isn't doing her any good, is it?
Blaise stays by her side, his posture stiff and rigid, his dark eyes alert, as though daring anyone to mess with her. Millicent is grateful for her best friend—her real best friend—but it doesn't make her feel any better. The trust she had given Pansy is broken now.
She feels Blaise tense beside her. He grips her wrist gently, trying to guide her along. "Come on, Mil," he mutters. "Let's go this way."
She's about to point out that he's trying to take the long way, when she looks up and understands. Pansy leans against the wall, laughing and telling Flora and Hestia Carrow something. Millicent swallows. She knows should listen to Blaise and walk the other way, but her feet seem to have other plans. She stalks closer, Blaise on her heels and calling after her.
"Oi, Parkinson!"
Pansy looks up. When she notices Millicent there, she smirks; the Carrow twins giggle nastily.
Millicent doesn't give her a chance to strike first. "If you're going to be two faced, at least make one of them pretty," she snaps.
Pansy's eyes widen, and Millicent hears Blaise mutter, "Oh, shit."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You lying, scheming, backstabbing, worthless—"
Millicent can't bring herself to finish her train of thought. Tears sting her eyes, and there's a tightness in her chest that makes it difficult to breathe. Instead, she shoves Pansy roughly against the wall and pins her; if the world wants to believe that she's a brute, she'll embrace it. "Keep my name out of your mouth."
She doesn't wait for Pansy to respond. With a low growl, Millicent releases and nods to Blaise. "Let's go."
It's such a small act of vengeance, but it feels so good. Millicent will not a mat for people to walk over. By dinner, she knows word will spread about how she stood up to Pansy, and everything will be okay again.
"What came over you?" Blaise asks as they make their way down the corridor.
Millicent shrugs, smiling. "I found my strength."