Perfect
Disclaimer: Regardless of how much I wish I did, I own nothing to do with Harry Potter. Pity really…
Her hair's kind of messy, and she hasn't tied her shoelaces again. The toes on her boots are scuffed from not picking her feet up as she walks, and the hem of her robe has come down in places. The bottom of the robe is covered in mud and her nails are bitten down.
She's not very popular, but then again, neither am I.
She hates animals, is allergic to most of them. She runs a mile when Mrs Norris or Crookshanks comes near her and she grits her teeth before she goes to divination with the centaur.
She's rubbish at Herbology. So she takes extra lessons after school hours. That's when I see her. She might not be any good, but you can see in her face that she enjoys it. Her nose scrunches up in concentration as she picks up a mandrake. Panicking eyes as it wriggles in her hand before she shoves it quickly in into the bigger pot. Relief showing now, then a small satisfied smile as Professor Sprout nods encouragingly at her.
Afterwards, I watch her walk up to the school, her hem dragging in the mud again.
Boots stomping deliberately in the puddles.
She might not be clever, pretty or popular.
But to me, she is perfect.
(A/N I don't really know what I'm doing with this. It was formed in my head after reading too many Mary Sues, and wanting to write a fic where the girl isn't a perfect creature. Perfect people are scary. And must die.
Anyway, it's meant to be a one shot, fluffy, sugary thing. But more ideas keep popping into my head. I don't want them to, 'cos fluff isn't what I write. I'm too gloomy and morbid for that. But this might grow. Maybe.)