the slytherin chaser // adrian pucey

𓆙prologue

*language, physical and mental abuse, mention of ED, sexual assault*

my name's delilah reat, daughter of alexandra and gregory reat. i was born july 21, 1978, which would soon become the coldest day on earth in history 5 years later, reaching -128 degrees fahrenheit in antarctica. it really is ironic, seeing as anyone would describe me as a cold, closed-off person. but i've learned that if you don't let people in, the less of the chance to get hurt. 

i've experienced a lot of pain in my life, probably more than others. definitely more than a healthy amount. my dad bailed when i was 10, but not before making sure he left a mental scar on me. physical ones too. some days he would get so drunk, he'd finish whole damn bottles, just to throw them at me. he thought it was a fun game, watching me try to dodge them so i wouldn't get cut with shards of glass. one time, i wasn't lucky enough. didn't move in time and a piece of glass left a gash on my right hip. sometimes, when he'd get so drunk, he wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his 10-year-old daughter and 38-year-old wife. father always said he liked his women with some meat on her bones and that's when my eating disorder started. it's sick to think i had to make myself unattractive in the eyes of my father, just so he wouldn't try to pull anything. 

my piece of shit mother wasn't much better. always spent her time running errands for 'the dark lord.' what an egotistical, selfish son of a bitch. even when he was dead, or gone, i don't even know, or care, he took all her time away from me, leaving my alcoholic father to attempt to raise me. to anyone else, you'd think she was in love with the god damn man. sometimes the thought even crossed my mind, but then i'd realize that he's not even here and that someone couldn't possibly be in love with someone who isn't there.  

even though she was married to my father, they never loved each other. they're both purebloods and they wanted a pureblood baby. so here i am, their unfortunate child. which is ironic because both of my parents never express any form of love to me. unless you count the multiple times my father has tried to get in my pants. because if you are, my father is the most loving man in the world. 

the only reason i managed to end up a half-decent human being was playing quidditch with my friends. ex-friends. draco malfoy and adrian pucey. draco and adrian were always close. i met them at a dinner with their families, my mother, and my now best friend's family, the yorke's. we all clicked. belinda, or bel as i call her, was shy at first until she started to finally open up. now i can't get the bitch to shut up, even though i love her to death. draco wasn't a shitty person, just a shitty home life with a shitty attitude for everything and everyone. alright, maybe he was a little shitty but aren't we all. 

that leaves adrian pucey.

adrian motherfucking pucey. how i loathe him to the depths of my core. i never felt like i belonged with the boys, we were always with each other, but they were together. i didn't care though. until adrian, bel and i left for hogwarts. we all got sorted into slytherin. i know, big shocker, right? i thought it would be the three of us forever, and then adrian started being the biggest ass in the world. i tried to be nice to him, but the son of a bitch would send me death glares, or, just ignore me altogether. after first year, i stopped giving a fuck and began taking my anger out the only way i knew how. 

quidditch. 

i was an excellent chaser. not to sound narcissistic, but i really was. but, i knew i would never be able to try out for the house team because i was a fucking girl. because marcus flint was a sexist piece of shit with a brain the size of a pea. hell would have to have frozen over before he let a girl try out. 

apparently, it did, because the day back to school of second year, marcus sat down next to me while i was talking to bel. 

"what do you want?" i asked, not looking at his ugly, crooked face. he seemed nervous though. why the fuck did he seem nervous. 

"look, i've seen you play," he spoke hesitantly, almost like he was being forced to tell me this. 

i finally looked at him. "what the hell are you talking about?"

"quidditch," he said as if it was obvious. i looked at him confused before he blurted out, "i need you to be my other chaser," quite loudly. 

"what?" me and another voice said at the same time. i turned my head to see adrian staring at us with his full attention, looking almost as shocked as i was. i sent him a death glare before he went back to picking at his food, pretending he wasn't still listening. 

i turned back to look at flint, "did you just say 'you need me to be your other chaser'?" i asked him, baffled. 

"yes," so much disappointment flooded his voice. how sentimental. 

"but you don't let girls tryout for the team," i stated as if he didn't already know that. 

"well, yes, i usually don't, but i really need you this year," he pleaded. 

"jesus flint, try not to sound so desperate," i said, sarcastically which earned me a glare from him. "are you being serious right now?" i asked, still not believing my ears. 

"yes," 

"OF FUCKING COURSE!" i screamed too loudly, causing a couple of heads around us to look at me. "what? do you want me to sign a fucking autograph or something?" i said coldly, causing everyone to look back to their friends. 

"ok, well uh, tryouts next monday. you have a broom, don't you?" he asked as if i was a baby learning how to walk. 

i looked at him, signaling that that was the stupidest fucking question ever. the dumbass didn't acknowledge it, causing me to say, "yes i have a broom," with a sneer. 

"what broom?"

"a nimbus 2000," i said cooly. the nimbus 2000, the newest broom. the fastest broom on the damn market. i heard a scuff from down the table, but i knew it was adrian and paid him no attention. 

"bloody hell," marcus said under his breath which boosted my ego more than it should have. "is it here?" he asked. 

i didn't want to tell him my father was gone for two years now and my mother was who knew where doing who knew what for you know who. so instead, i said, "i can write home and have it shipped to me," it wasn't a lie. i could write home and have it shipped. not by my mother, but by the only person who was any sort of parental figure to me, the maid. 

"do that as soon as possible, see you monday," flint said before walking to go sit with cassius warrington, terence higgs, adrian pucey, and miles bletchley who were all on the quidditch team. 

i turned my attention back to a shocked bel, who was staring at me with wide eyes, wearing the exact emotions i was feeling. 

"did that-" i started to say before the bitch pinched me. "OW!" i exclaimed, "what the fuck was that for?" i said, rubbing the spot on my shoulder where she pinched me. 

"i wanted to make sure i wasn't dreaming," she said nonchalantly. 

"then you would pinch yourself dumbass," i scoffed, completely shocked this dumbass was still alive considering her level of stupidity.