Jewels5: Thank you so much for reviewing:) Yay for being the only reviewer! It's going to brighten up soon, I hope. This chapter's also a bit dark, but I do intend to start adding bits of humor in. Thank you for reading!

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Disclaimer: I suppose the standard disclaimer...I don't own Harry Potter. I don't feel like being creative with the disclaimer today. Sorry! -.-;;

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Chapter One

I looked out the giant library windows. It was a nice day outside, and practically everyone except for me and the Slytherins was out there enjoying their last days at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. We just finished the DADA O.W.L., which was the last of the Ordinary Wizarding Level tests we had to take. I started spacing out a little bit, thinking of the summer to come. End of the year exams always made me feel like this. I felt so helpless-hopeless even. I didn't want to go back home-if it could be called a home. Here, I was free; I was free of chores, beatings, and sarcastic remarks. I was free of ratty clothes and moth-eaten mattresses. Most of all, I was free of the cupboard under the stairs.

I glanced back out the library windows at the four Marauders, as they called themselves, sitting together somewhat. Potter, who was kinda like the ringleader of the little group, was playing with what looks like a Snitch. He would let it go and catch it repetitively. Pettigrew, one of Potter's cohorts, would applaud every so often. He was never stopped-ha-as if that arrogant prick would ever stop him from lavishing attention all over him.

Potter was definitely something else. He was intelligent-I'll give him that-but he had an ego the size of Jupiter and a mean streak that was fifty miles wide, if even that.

Suddenly, I see Snape walking across the lawn, straight in Potter's viewpoint. Lovely. There's going to be a demonstration soon. Hmmm...ten sickles that someone's blood will be spilt.

Potter and Black (who was Potter's best friend, I suppose) started walking toward Snape, just like I thought they would. They could never leave the poor guy alone, could they? I began to pack my things-someone has to be the level-headed prefect in situations like this. Merlin knows what Dumbledore was thinking when he appointed Lupin as the other Gryffindor prefect. Even I wasn't stupid enough to look over the fact that Lupin would NEVER stand up against James and those random pranks of his.

I looked back up after I made sure I had everything packed up neatly in my bag. Apparently, during the time when I wasn't watching, Potter and taken Snape's wand. This is going to get ugly, I just know it.

Yeah. Potter just impedimenta-ed his worst enemy. Lovely. Okay, let's kick the evil-Evans act into gear. Potter's going to get an earful after this.

I marched outside, and the crowd that had gathered parted like the Red Sea. They all knew not to mess with Lily Evans when she was mad-especially when she was mad at James Potter. I got close enough to hear strands of the conversation...

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" asked Potter.

"I was watching him," Black said, "his nose was touching the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it. They won't be able to read a word."

The crowd laughed, but Snape started talking, or rather, gasping. "You — wait. You — wait..."

"Wait for what?" asked Black. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Snape began to curse and demonstrate that he knew quite a few...colorful...words. I was close enough now. Just another ten yards or so...

"Wash out your mouth," I heard Potter say, "Scourgify!"

"Leave him ALONE!" I yelled from the edge of the lake, where I had come to. People began to move away and encircle us at the same time. What were they expecting-some kind of show!

Then again, what fight with Potter hadn't turned into a show?

"All right, Evans?" he asked in a more mature, deeper tone of voice. Bah. As if I would fall for such a paltry trick.

"Leave him alone," I repeated, "What's he done to you?"

"Well...it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."

I felt myself get infuriated. People like him were stupid, bullying toerags who picked on other people to stay powerful. It was like Nicolette; those people were all the same. They pick on those weaker than themselves and take advantage of the situation. Nicolette took advantage of my dad's broken heart and killed him for the life insurance; Potter was taking advantage of Snape's unpopularity and the fact that the whole school was willing to turn their backs on that particular Slytherin.

The whole school, however, would not include me. Not this time.

"You think you're funny," I said coldly, listening to the whole crowd laugh at Potter's words. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," he said quickly. "Go on...Go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

I noticed that the Impediment Jinx was beginning to wear off. Snape was inching for his wand, spitting out soapsuds and cursing under his breath. Ha. Potter never did do overly well in Charms anyway. Normal jinxes would have lasted twice as long when performed correctly. Instead of three minutes, the jinx should have lasted around six to seven-even longer if the elongation charm was placed on top of it.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," I spat. He had been trying to get me to go out with him for the past year...or two...or three...whatever. For a long time, I suppose. It was all a bet, from what I heard. Yup-as if "Mr. Popular" would go for me, a secret bookworm and hater of his guts.

"Bad luck, Prongs," said Black, turning back to where Snape lay. "OY!"

Too late. Snape had directed his want straight at his royal prickness, and after a flash of light, a gash appeared on the side of Potter's face, spatting his robes with blood. This seemed to infuriate him. I mean, it was kinda obvious when he just whirled around and strung Snape in the air upside-down, shedding light on the Slytherin's pale legs and his...

...erm...

...pair of graying underpants.

Hahahahahahahaha...ahem. Sorry.

As amusing as it was, it was abuse. Snape is going to be scarred for life from this incident, I could tell. Who knows? Maybe one day, someone in the future will find out, and then suddenly, the great image of he-who-is-so-overly-egotistical will be shattered.

"Let him down!" I yelled. Potter and the rest of Hogwarts might find this amusing, but I certainly did not. I was a prefect, and I wasn't about to go and turn a blind eye like all the other prefects on such a humiliating stunt.

"Certainly."

Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground and struggled to get up. Before he could raise his wand, however, Black performed another charm that made Snape fall over once again, stiff as a board.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I screeched. I whipped out my wind. Mentally, I smirked as I saw Potter's and Black's faces. They were scared. They should be. I was, after all, the Queen of Charms.

"Ah...Evans. Don't make me hex you," Potter said nervously, eyeing my wand. He was bluffing. As if he would ever hex me. That would be the day Snape comes up to me saying he was sorry for all the times he called me a Mudblood.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

That stupid, messy-haired boy sighed deeply and said the countercurse.

"There you go. You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

I blinked. "Fine. I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

I couldn't resist. No one made fun of my blood. It was my parents' blood that flowed through my veins. The blood that was decaying six feet underground as I stood there, arguing with pillocks. Snape had it coming anyway. What can I say? At least I tried. Dumbledore can't accuse me now of not intervening.

"Apologize to Evans!" I faintly heard Potter roar at Snape, pointing his wand at his enemy's throat.

"I don't want you to make him apologize!" I shouted, mind not really registering the fact that Potter, of all people, was sticking up for me. "You're as bad as he is..."

"What!" he yelped. Once again, I smirked mentally. The things that would get him riled up, honestly. "I'd NEVER call you a — you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down the corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can — I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

I stalked off after that. People like Potter were all the same: stuck up, arrogant, selfish, unsympathetic, and never thinking of the consequences. I can't stand people like that. He reminds me so much of Petunia that it makes me feel so...I can't even describe it. They're two-faced, the lot of them. Petty was so nice when Dad was still alive. We played together, pulled pranks together, and she even took care of me when I got hurt. Then Dad died, and that all changed. She hates me now and even more so when I got my letter to go to Hogwarts.

Potter's two-faced too. He acts caring sometimes, but then you turn your back and BAM! He's back to the arrogant prickhead he really is.

In my seething, my feet had somehow taken me back to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Strawberry shortcake," I said. The portrait opened with a "quite right, my dear."

The common room was cozy, but red was everywhere. The couches were red, the curtains were red, the rugs were red...everything was red.

And red was like blood.

I suppose the color could symbolize a lot of other things too, like love, passion, lust, and whatnot, but to me, red will always be blood, and nothing else.

Funny, isn't it? Red was my favorite color before Mum died because it was so lively and rich. I loved the color red.

Now, I hate it.

I flopped down on one of the many couches in the room, savoring the silence of the usually noisy common room. Everyone was outside, probably watching Potter pull Snape's pants down or something. I wonder, though, why people had friends to begin with.

The way I see it, real friends don't exist. Friends are idealized as people you could tell everything to, and they won't go and tell the whole world about what you said. They're supposed to be there whenever you needed help or just wanted someone to hang out with. Too bad this idealized vision of a friend doesn't exist in this dirty world. It's too pure-something that just can't exist because if it did, it too would be stained with the sins of this world.

The only thing that can possibly be a part of this world is corruption and politics. That's what life is, really. It's all politics. For example, when you're good at something, people automatically flock to you, wanting help and acting all pleasant and everything. It's nice at the beginning, I suppose, but the second you fail or are not up to par, you might as well just kiss those "friends" goodbye.

I watch the same cycle happen over and over again. Two people proclaiming that they're each other's best friend and a couple months later declaring each other their worst enemy. Ironic, no? That's how it's always been, and that's probably how it's always going to be.

I get sick of reading novels and short stories that revolve around a group of "best friends" who can't do anything without each other. Such perfect relationships can't exist-it defies the laws of humanity. Oh wait. What humanity? Ha, I forgot. I'm being a hypocrite. I don't believe much in humanity either.

The point is, I suppose, that people like to surround themselves with lies. Hell, I'M even surrounding myself in lies. I think about the person I am, and it makes me sick. I'm so fake, so cold, and so...I don't even know what word I should be using to complete that train of thought.

Sometimes, though, sometimes I wonder if such perfection really could exist...to have someone who can see behind this mask I wear...to have someone truly understand me and keep me safe. To have a friend I can tell anything to and not be able to worry about them blabbing. Is that what Potter has? Am I just too blind to see that what I think can't exist really can exist?

Has the wall I've built around me become so thick, cold, and concrete that not even I can peer over it?

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A/N: Hey, all! Thank you so much for reading. I...erm...know that most people don't like to review when the author asks for reviews, but in seeing that I got one review out of the fifty people who read this, it was kinda...I dunno...weird? I can't improve without some sort of criticism, so I would REALLY REALLY REALLY appreciate it if you could take two seconds to leave me a comment. Thanks! Most of all, though, thank you for reading. I was honestly elated when I saw that 53 people at least looked at my story. Yay!