Ron reflects about a mysterious situation with a girl he met in his potions class, and makes it known how much he hates her.

This story has not yet went through beta. As soon as it's finished, I'll post it up. Reviews help me update. Hint, hint, wink. -Grins-

Part of me still likes to believe that she planned it, even though logic points out that she didn't. Even so, I still, in the corner of my mind, believe that she, that little bitch, she knew exactly what she was doing to me. She had me on a thread, or so she thought. I cannot blame her, for we are both to blame, but just because I can't blame her, dosen't mean I can't hate her. I hate her with everything I've got.

I can't stoop as low as to say she's ugly, because she's truly beautiful, there's no denying that. Even I can't. She was gift from the gods sent to earth to fulfill the desires of men. Her, with her beautiful, long, flowing, blond hair. Her, with her dazzling green eyes. Her, with her flowing curves and soft skin. She was any mans dream. She was my nightmare.

I met her in potions class. We were doubled with slytherin. That's how I met her. We were paired up for some project Snape had wanted us to do. We were assigned a potion to research. We were required to discover where the potion originated in, what it was used for, and then we had to make it. Snape was announcing the partners.

"Weasley, and let's see . . . Taylor. Both of you." Snape instructed. "Over there, that corner desk will be where you two will work."

I walked over to the table looking quite unenthused about the project. I sat and waited for my partner to find the table.

Snape stopped calling names and glared at a blond girl happily gossipping with three girls. "Miss Taylor! How many times must I tell you to go take a seat with your partner!" He was furious.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes, just barely glancing at him before turning back to her friends.

"Miss Taylor!" Snape roared. "Ten demerits from Slytherin! Now go find your partner before I take off another ten demerits."

Teiriny trudged over to my table and was about to sit down at the chair opposite of me, but the second she saw me, she changed her mind and took the chair next to mine. She smiled brightly and extended her hand to introduce herself.

"Hello .. " She flirted, batting her eyes. "I'm Teiriny."
I glanced down at her extended hand for a moment and decided to ignore it and act as though she didn't want to shake hands. This aggravated her.

"Aren't you going to shake my hand?" She asked me. I remained silent. "Well? Are you?" She persisted. I could already tell how incredibly annoying this girl was going to be for the next two weeks.

"It dosen't look like I am now, does it?" I snapped back at her. She recoiled. I couldn't help but snicker under my breath.

"God! You don't have to be so rude! I just wanted to shake your hand. No reason to be such an asshole." She glared.

I chose to ignore her comment. "Let's get to work, why don't we? What potion do we have?" I glanced at the paper taped to our table. "It's the Aquativitous potion. I think it might have something to do with water, considering the 'Aqua' part of the name.'"

She glared seeming quite displeased that I ignored the fact she was throwing herself at me. "Wouldn't 'water' be in the name if water was in it?"

I rolled my eyes. She truly was dumber than a doornail. "It's the Latin word for water. Do we need to put you back in with the first years, or can you try and be mature enough to act like the sixth year you are?" I was treating her as you would a little child being disciplined. Oh, how she squirmed. She didn't like the feelings I made her have. It was obvious to me, to her, and most likely, to everyone else around us.

About an hour into studying and gathering information, she put her hand on my shoulder, 'casually' trying to flirt with me by reading over my shoulder. "Whatcha readin'?" She asked with that bubblegum voice of hers.
"I'm reading about our potion, you nimrod! Now, if you would be as so kind, to remove your hand from my shoulder, it would be appreciated." I was not pleased with her. Just the mere fact that she was touchin me made my blood boil.

"Why?" She asked me seeming offended. "Don't you like my hand there?" She pouted then smiled coyly, like she thought I was playing hard-to-get or something.

"I said get your bloody hands off of me!" I said sternly in a hash whisper that made her jump slightly. She still didn't move. "Fine, I'll move it the hard way." I grabbed her wrist twisting it around, forcing her to sit next to me. She grimaced in pain as the skin around her wrist started to throb in my hands.

"Let go of me!" She half yelled, half whispered. "I'll tell Snape on you!" She thought she would win with that comment, but no, that just made me twist harder. She started crying now. "Please . . . let go, I'll stop, I promise, it hurts! I'll do anything!" She sobbed.

"Anything?" I still had her wrist locked in one postion, a very painful one judging by her squirms. "If you'll do anything, then I suggest you keep your goddamn hands off of me and keep them where they belong!" As I got closer to her face she stared to tremble. "Understood?" She just nodded, as if she was too terrified to say anything. "Good." I gave her wrist one final harsh,twist before letting go and returning to my book.

"I am so telling on you!" She announced. "Professor Snape!" She called him over. Snape sure as hell didn't look enthused to come to our table.

"What is it this time, Miss Taylor? Did Mr. Weasley look at you wrong, or glance at your breasts a second longer than you would've liked? Please, enlighten me . . " He drolled on expecting some stupid complaint from her.

"Weasley is being such an ass! He got mad because I touched his shoulder and then-" She paused seeing my glare. "He called me a name."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Miss Taylor. Get back to your work before I give you detention for wasting my time."

That's how I met that poor pathetic girl. Straight from the get go, I knew she was the kind of girl I could tear apart, peice by peice. She was mentally strong, and she knew it, and maybein a way, she wanted everyone else to know it too. She wanted her weakness exposed, she wanted her frailty recognized. Wearing those mini-skirts and small halters and spiked heels, you couldn't help but wonder, why was she acting so self concious? So desperate for attention, like a pigeon after bread crumbs. People like her, are the kind I take advantage of.