Spinning (Marauders Era) -ON HOLD-

Chapter One: Completely Insane

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter stuff belongs to J.K. Rowling. Only Kyara and perhaps a few other people I might make up belong to me.

I heard a shrill voice coming from another compartment. "Potter, if you don't leave me alone I swear I will make sure Kyara gets pissed at you and and unleashes her wrath on your skinny little ass!"

I raised my eyebrows. My wrath was not something to be meddled with, yet Potter had. "Oi, Potter!" I shouted. My best mate, Severus, looked up from his book, giving me a look.

"Why do you want that bumbling idiot in our compartment? He'll probably set all your textbooks on fire." Before I could reply with "Sev, you know I can do that by myself," Potter sauntered into the room.

"Heeeyyyy, Hunter! Just couldn't wait to see me, could you?" I winked at Sev.

"Nope." I stood up, gently wrapping my arm around his neck, pushing my light strawberry blonde hair out of my face. He smirked, the unsufferable prick. I flipped around, hair flying, and put him in a choke hold.

I couldn't see his face, but Sev obviously did, as he burst into laughter at James' expression. My lips grazed his ear and I could almost hear the frightened face he wore seconds ago melt into a smirk. Evidently, he thought I was making a move. I can't believe him. I am totally gonna unleash my wrath on his skinny ass.

Sev's laughter died down when he saw me getting close to Potter. I moved to look like I was going to whisper in his ear. He grinned, awaiting my quiet words. Ha. Ha ha.

I twisted my nech, hearing it crack with the sudden movement, and screamed in his ear. "If you bother Lily again you will forever regret it. I will make your life a living hell."

I graced him with a smile and a curtsy.

When I backed away, he winced, covering his ear and shooting me a look. He left the room, undoubtedly telling his friends that "Kyara Hunter is a fucking nutjob."

And he was right. I was. But I was pretty sure nobody would give a crap.

Maybe I should explain. My mum was a veela, and my dad was a werewolf. It was kind of odd, with one parent who was insanely gorgeous (totally passed on the genes), when the other was plain insane. Well, on full moons at least.

Anyway, I broke hearts everywhere I walked. I had long, wavy, strawberry blonde hair that faded into black ('cause I like to dye my hair. Got a problem?) and was perfectly ragged, no matter how gross I tried to look (sometimes I cut it "obscenely short" and dye it whatever the fuck I want). I had curves where curves should be, and nothing could make me 'ugly' no matter what clothes I wore or makeup I applied. TO be truthful, it's a fucking curse for me, 'cause people are always trying to get inside of me. And they obviously don't give a fuck I'm asexual (bi-romantic, though).

At the moment, I was wearing a pink lace shirt with an Avril Lavigne style leather jacket. It was kind of loose, but still clingy-ish. And of course, I was wearing my favorite pair of distressed skinny jeans and black heeled boots.

My cheeks were naturally blushed and my skin was clear and soft. Even that time I purposely tried to scar myself. And I probably would have succeeded, too, if Sev hadn't used his amazing skill in potion-making and forced some potion of his own making down my throat. Stupid Sev. Okay, anyway, my point is, I'm extremely good looking. Except on a full moon.

Yeah, I'm a werewolf, too. My dad, in one of his crazed moments, he decided it would be fun to rip my door off it's hinges and chew on my leg. Yay. Now he has a concrete room in which he locks himself in when the full moon comes. I think he's afraid he'll end up hurting someone else, too.

Let me set the record straight. My dad is not a bad guy. He isn't like Fenrir Greyback, or anything. He's only unfortunate enough to be bitten by Fenrir Greyback. Yeah. Life sucks, but you learn how to deal with it.For one, I've had clinical depression since year four, when I came out as asexual to everyone. Sev (however much he wants to deny it) is probably depressed too. My mum hates her life (almost forty and still being hit on) and wants to be in a regular marrige. My brother is as gay as Elton John on a rainbow, singing duets with Sam Smith. We don't know where he is now. Turned out to be a squib, and ran off to some fancy universiity in America.

But now, I'm as happy as a pig in a pile of shit (except my husband is not a pile of shit, and just because we're cuddling does not mean I am a pig, laying on him). Because things do get better, you just have to be there to see it. And that's where this story reall begins, the day things start looking up.

Author's Note: This is my story and I write because I want to. Don't get me wrong, I love you guys, but what I do with this is my choice, and on my time, okay? Also, note that the times aren't exactly right for some of the things I'm introducing, but y'all can deal with it, right?

I'll see you in the alpacalypse.