Rita
Jumping at the confused 'Rita?' that comes from behind her, Rita Skeeter spins around, unable to stop herself from flinching at the sharp, dark, heavy-lidded eyes gazing into her own green ones.
"Is that Rabastan?" Bellatrix Black snickers, shoving past her blonde friend, before her eyes widen at the copper-haired seventh-year.
"I was not going along with it, Bella," he murmurs, somewhat reassuringly but embarrassed at hit position on the dungeon floor.
Rita's face turns crimson, and tears of humiliation sting from behind lowered eyelids.
It is true: Rodolphus Lestrange (however many girls he has slept with or dated in the past) has stopped such activities; having done so since the day he and Bellatrix found out of their betrothal.
Uncertain, Black holds out a pale hand, her fiancée grasping it with a much larger one. He mutters something in her ear; though Rita can't understand most of it, she does hear one word - 'slut.'
The pair glare at her, disgust, hatred and smugness in the boy's expression; betrayal, anger and hurt in the girl's.
Why is it anyone and everyone she has ever cared about ends up despising her in the end?
