DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you recognize.
A/N: So how long has it been exactly? About four months? I don't know if I'll be updating regularly, but I will be updating whenever I can find a spare moment in my life filled with: work, school, friends, one novel and a series! Anyway! On with the story! I hope you like it now that I'm back :D Sorry it's so short. I'm just getting back into the swing of things...
XoXo
I silently made my way down the stairs, not showing a single emotion on my face as I listened to the conversations around me. Not a single one peaked my interest until I heard Weasley, Potter and Granger whispering about the class we had just sat through. I nonchalantly pushed my blonde hair out of my ears, and leaned forward, trying to listen in to their conversation.
"I personally think that that was a terrible way to start out the year! Making Neville stand up and watch as he performed the Cruciatus curse! Obviously Professor Moody doesn't know what happened to his parents," Granger said in that uppity, nasally tone of hers.
I rolled my eyes, but quickened my pace, opening my fat mouth to give her my own views that could hardly mean more than nothing to her. "I personally thought that it was an amazing class! I learned a lot that I had never known before," I said in a sickly sweet voice that was so heavy, I was surprised that my jaw didn't break from the weight of it.
"Yeah, the only reason that is is because your precious daddy never got around to teaching it to you," Weasley muttered under his breath. I sucked in a deep breath and shot daggers into his back, willing myself not to say anything that would get me into my second detention that week.
Potter and Granger let out barks of laughter, raising my temper to its boiling point. "What did you say to me, Weasley?" I hissed, narrowing my black eyes.
He shot a look back at me and I raised my pale eyebrows, daring him to say something other than the truth. "I said nothing. It was stupid. A lie actually. Sorry," he muttered, shooting me pensive looks after every word.
"That's what I thought," I said brightly, patting him on his red head. I lightly skipped down the stairs, waving at them as I left, trying not to let any of them actually see what was going on in my head.
About half way down the stairs I tripped over a certain Neville Longbottom who had decided to spend his afternoon crying by the windowsill. I landed flat on my back with my blonde hair everywhere and a nasty glare pasted on my face. I slowly stood up, wincing at the pain in my hip but didn't allow Neville to see one stitch of the pain that bloomed along the side of my body. A terrified, shocked look fell into place on his round cheeks and I nodded, signifying that he was right in feeling the fear.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing Longbottom?" I screamed, placing a hand on my bruised thigh. Pain and recognition at how screwed he was flickered across his face. I smirked and let a mirthless laugh escape from my lips. "Get out of the way," I hissed, pushing him into the wall. "Try not to kill anyone else while you're at it, all right, Longbottom? No wonder why they call you a dimwit."