A/N For those who don't know the British vocabulary when it says 'fag' I am not referring to men clad in feminine apparel, I'm talking about cigarettes.

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"Fuck him, he's a real fucking idiot.  He keeps on going on and on about how he's going to fucking rule the world after he puts the Dark Lord's knickers in a fucking twist so much that he fucking starts to squeal like a pig.  Not a pleasant fucking picture, then again it seems like it wouldn't take much to do that.  If anything squeals like a pig it's his little lipstick tube.   Literally if it weren't part of his anatomy I would say it's cute but it's an actual fucking device-"

Ginny cleared her throat in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed, matching the color of the mosquito bite that Frenchy had spelled off.  Already she had become quite certain that her original interpretation of Brenna being someone obsessed with the word fuck was correct.  If Brenna was going to be a permanent addition to the group at least she knew what to get Brenna for Christmas. 

"Uh," Frenchy paused as she became aware of Ginny's embarrassment, "Well, that was a useful piece of information.  Can you tell us more of what he doesn't like?"

"Oh, right."  Brenna looked a bit downcast at having her rave interrupted and redirected.  As soon as her expression became blank it brightened up again.  She held up a case of Marablo.  "Do you mind if I light a fag?"

"It's against school policy to smoke in the building."  Frenchy stated.

"I'm not smoking, I'm lighting my fag."  Brenna tossed her waist length super straight hair over her shoulder and deliberately pulled a long white cigarette along with her English flag lighter.  Her thumb pushed on the lighter but the fluid didn't produce a flame.  That caused her to growl in rage.  "Fuck, Does any one have a fucking lighter that I can use?"

There was no response to that.

"There is something just not right about no one smoking.  It's physically bad for you not to smoke.  Not to mention people who smoke are twice as friendly as people who don't."  The cigarette was still clenched between her lips, which looked exactly like Monica Bellucci's, moved up and down at a frantic pace when she talked.  It also made every word that come out of her mouth muffled.   For a moment she forgot that her cigarette wasn't lit, she took a long drag of it.  "Fuck it!"  She chucked the packet at one of the book shelves.  "Draco always had a working lighter, but he didn't have one on the day he dumped me.  I should've known.  I should've dumped him when I knew he wasn't carrying a lighter.  That's always the first sign that they aren't worth my time.  His lighter worked so well…. I'll have to take it back the next time I run into him.  It smelled like a good fuck in Paris-"

Ginny flushed again but cleared her throat insistently. 

Brenna jerked her head towards Ginny then rolled her eyes and started up again.  "Right, straying off topic."  She smiled unconvincingly although now she was getting pissed.  "Well, he does have an annoying habit off acting like Harry Pothead when he thinks no one is looking, but he won't admit it.   A few times I've caught him coming out of the boys' dorm with a lighting shaped line on his forehead made out of lipstick.  That's a fucking double bad thing.  Lipstick AND acting like Harry Pothead.  He's supposed to be a Slytherin, not a faggot."

Frenchy and Ginny glanced at each other without saying a thing.  It was evident that one of them knew exactly how to carry it off and the other wanted to run, or at least duct tape Brenna's Monica Bellucci lips shut before they said the word 'fuck' again.  The white cigarette was still bobbing up and down as she talked; it was almost as if she had forgotten it was there.  There was a sharp contrast from what Ginny thought Slytherins were supposed to be like and what Brenna was like, of course Draco was really her model for the Slytherin standard.  Slytherins were supposed to despise anything that was muggle; object, person, or idea.  Then there was Brenna who wore normal muggle clothes and smoked muggle cigarettes.  She had absolutely no control over her tongue and seemed almost as if she had a case of Tourette, except it was only for the word 'fuck'.  Maybe actually she could be better described as someone with Alzheimer's disease, people with that disease sometimes forget words and tend to remember the cuss words the most vividly.

"So let me get this straight, Draco has been imitating Harry Potter?  How long?"  Frenchy was on the hot trail.

"Oh I don't know, ever since I've been fucking dating him.  Or should it be just dating?  Never really got the chance to fuck him, that fucking Pansy acts like she's his whore.  Haha, fucking whore, never realized that's what she was……"  A musing expression settled on her face.  The cigarette stilled for a moment and Brenna's breath stopped, almost as if she were about to take another long drag.  She took the cigarette out of her mouth and chucked it at the bookshelf so that it fell exactly on top of the cigarette case.  "He was always a weirdo but he suddenly got really strange right before he dumped me.  It was on the day of the dance, fucking bastard."

Ginny looked positively absurd now, and it wasn't the usual embarrassment. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I think I have a wedgie."

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A/N How's it going peoples?  Nothing here, nothing ever.  Hehehehehehehehehehehe……  Please review my freakish story, I've got it all planned out.  The ending is going to be hilarious.