'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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'Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say
Home, home again I like to be here when I can And when I come home cold and tired It's good to warm my bones beside the fire Far away across the field The tolling of the iron bell Calls the faithful to their knees To hear the softly spoken magic spells'
"You're Hera Potter. " If Hera had to hear that one more time — her face looked impatient. Hera Potter is the problem, she thought, if Hera Potter didn't fucking exist...
Hera grimaced, "I'm so sick of Hera Potter!"
Hera always thought she could change her persona with her look — she used to dye her hair a darker shade to resemble her father, and she'd even dyed it a mahogany red before, drawing inspiration from both Ariel from 'The Little Mermaid' and her own mother, Lily.
Ever since she was a little girl, Hera had dreamt of being famous — not hugely, just so that people noticed her in a better light. She thought that in that light, people would be fair to her, and she prayed to any God she could for that fairness to be treated unto her. Fair, to her? Hera could've laughed at the thought.
What Hera struggled to grasp was that no matter how her appearance changed, she'd always be Hera Potter — and no one would ever let her live that down...
Truthfully speaking, Hera had no intention of going to class today. She was sat with her little Defence group, this time in the courtyard as they were running out of places to meet — no one should discover them if they were in lessons, but Hera would be thick to suggest there were no stragglers.
Over the weekend, Umbridge had been made 'Hogwarts High Inquisitor' — a position no doubt created by and for herself. Hera felt she hadn't relaxed properly since then, and with Umbridge's new authority, the students were a lot more vulnerable to her horrid disciplinary actions.
There hadn't been all that many detentions handed out, but the threat of one was enough to scare everyone into complacency. About thirteen students had been put in detention, the youngest being two first years, little Rose Zeller and Dennis Creevey. No one knew what to do when Dennis Creevey showed up in the Gryffindor common room, clutching his crimson bloodied hand to his milky skin — the contrast horrific as he trembled and cried to his brother. He could barely support his shaking limbs, and his eyes were a blurred burn.
