WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU PUMPKINS , james potter

━ one. madeline hates everybody

CHAPTER ONE:
- madeline hates everybody -
1977

MADELINE HAD BEEN TOLD BY MANY THAT she was intimidating. (By "many" she meant like three people). (To be fair though, with someone who had no friends, three people was a lot... especially for someone like Madeline). While she knew she wasn't the most approachable person, intimidating wouldn't be a word she'd use to describe herself. Smart? Yes. Stubborn? Sometimes. Honest? Brutally. But intimidating? Madeline Winston did not think she was intimidating.

     Okay, perhaps she did have a bit of a resting bitch face and whenever someone Madeline remotely disliked (which was pretty much everyone?) so much as even glanced in her general vicinity, she glared back. Her "intimidating" nature probably explained why she was sitting alone at the Slytherin table that night. At least the first blissful thirty minutes she was.

It was the first night back at Hogwarts. Madeline, now (finally) a seventh year, sat in her usual seat near the end of the bench. She wore her green robes over her uniform without shame, sitting with a straight back, chin up, and her Potions textbook in hand. Everyone knew to stay away from her, she was sure she had made that perfectly clear to any who tried over the past years. But it seemed that one annoyingly perky first year had not caught on to the unspoken rule.

     "You still haven't told me your name yet," the annoying first year spoke with a mouthful of roast. She had dark skin and light, brown hair which was pulled back into two thick braids. Even if Madeline wanted to respond, the first year was quick to speak. "It's okay if you don't wanna tell me. I'll find out eventually. I'm really smart y'know. Plus you're a prefect so you hav'ta tell me sooner or later." She licked her fork. Madeline internally gagged.

"Listen—"

"—Asmara."

"Right." Madeline pursed her lips. "Listen, Asmara, don't you think it'd be a good idea to go and talk to the other first year students, make some friends, enjoy yourself?"

Asmara shrugged. "They're all a bunch of spoiled prats. Plus, you look kinda lonely over here in the corner all by yourself." Asmara leaned closer to Madeline. "It's kinda pathetic, mate."

Madeline narrowed her eyes. "I'm not your mate. I'm trying to read so, if you don't mind, bugger off." She was tired of being nice.

"I knew you'd be fun to talk to!" Asmara giggled. She reached for a piece of pie, making a silent motion of asking Madeline if she wanted any. She simply gave Asmara a deadpan stare, wishing the girl would go away already so she can eat her dinner and read in peace. It was bad enough she was forced to eat dinner in the Great Hall. Now someone wanted to talk to her. Big pass.

     "For the last time, go away."

     Asmara blinked back at Madeline, silent for a few seconds. "This pie is great! Almost as good as Mum's! Are you sure you don't want any? As a matter of fact, I'll save a piece to eat later." Merlin, help Madeline. "So since you're a prefect and all, you must know who my roommates'll be. I sure hope it isn't that Amelia girl. She is so mean! On the train, I swear she used the "M" word like four times." Asmara suddenly stopped eating her pie, glancing up shyly at Madeline. "You aren't one of those people, are you?"

     Madeline felt her blood begin to bubble. "What, a muggleborn?"

     "No, a pure blood supremacist."

     "Oh," Madeline's tone had significantly softened, "no, I'm not. Blood status doesn't really matter much to me."

     Asmara beamed. "I knew you'd be cool!"