||[Feb. 11th, 2006|12:09 am]
Serpensi Dominum (RECRUITING Marauder-Era AU RPG)
"OI NITWIT! YOUR MOTHER FUCKED A TROLL TO MAKE YOU!!!"
That's my parting shot as I storm off the Quidditch pitch. I'd hoped to get in plenty of flying practice today as it isn't snowing. Since I'm the only girl on the Slytherin team I have to make sure I'm damn good! But some oversized twit of a Gryffindor sixth year who's not even on his house team just about knocked me off my broom one too many times. I could try kicking his teeth in, I suppose, but he's bigger than I am and I'm in no mood for detention. Of course, if I see that Mulciber wanker I'll break his jaw for him for sure. He pisses me off more than just about anyone else.
Man, am I bored. I wish Amycus was here, but he's still got loads of detention time to put in after that stunt in Herbology. My brother may be fucking nuts but I do love him. We're both staying at school over the holidays - there's no way in hell I want to be at Aunt and Uncle's house and listening to their self-righteous shite, to them saying bad stuff about my Dad... no one talks about my father like that. NO ONE. I love him and I miss him and Mum... I wish Mum hadn't died and I wish Dad wasn't in Azkaban. It's worse than being dead, being locked up in that place. And it's a living hell for me, knowing that Dad's alive and I can never see him again... fuck. That hurts to even think about.
I've done most of the homework already - yeah, I am that bored. So I think I'll go inside and play a bit.
I go indoors, thinking that maybe my cat Baby will want to play with me, but she's curled up sound asleep on my bed in the dorm and I don't want to disturb her. So I go into one of the corridors instead and pull a small rubber ball from my robe pocket. I start throwing it against the wall and catching it, humming a sad little blues tune to myself:
"I was born in a dump
My mama died and my daddy got drunk
They left me here to die or grow
In the middle of Tobacco Road..."
The ball nearly hits one of the portraits, a group of daft looking women in old fashioned dresses, and they scream in horror and drop their teacups. I just laugh. Stupid bitches... serve them right for being so tight-arsed. Hee. I just love causing trouble...