little miss perfect

same old rivalries

Jaycee's POV

The next morning, I was woken up at the crack of dawn, along with the rest of Slytherin House by the sound of Pansy Parkinson shrieking.

"What the—" I said as I peeked my head out into the dormitory corridors along with each the rest of my roommates. It seemed everyone in the Slytherin House had come to find out what the wailing was about.

Pug-face was standing in the middle of the corridor, with her nightwear on, shrieking loudly as her bestfriend, Millicent Bullstrode tried to comfort her.

"What the bloody—" Dylan began from where he was standing near the second years boy dormitories.

"What happened Pansy?" Millicent Bullstrode asked her friend, patting the wailing pug reassuringly.

Everyone stood, watching her shriek like a dying cat, wondering what could of possibly happened.

"I—I—" she began in a hoarse voice.

"Had a dream...Drakey-Poo didn't want to snog me...." she continued, and then began wailing again.

Half the Slytherin house began laughing, including myself and when I scanned the space for Malfoy, I found him scrunching his nose in disgust. When his grey eyes met mine he growled, while I smirked.

"Honestly Pansy, that sounds like a good dream to me." I countered.

Pansy seethed, slowly turning her head in my direction before—to my utter shock— launched herself at me. Just in time, I retrieved my wand from my pocket "Locomotor Wibbly!" I exclaimed. The curse hit her, causing her legs to turn into complete jelly as she uselessly started wobbling around.

"Fix this, Hilliker!" Pansy shrieked.

I smirked, "Sorry—can't. I forgot the counter curse."

And with that, I ran back into my dormitory and slammed the door shut.

I didn't retreat the dormitory until much later, incase Pansy was waiting outside, ready to murder me. Luckily, when I exited, She was not there. I walked up to the Slytherin Table, and tried to stay unnoticed as I grabbed an apple discreetly.

"Hey you—Hilliker!" A voice said. I turned around and raised my eyebrows at the two fifth years who were above me. Marcus Flint and Miles Bletchley.

"Yes, that is me." I retorted, taking a bite from my apple.

"Heard you got a new firebolt." Marcus Flint said, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, feeling slightly embarassed. I took another bite out of my apple to cover this up.

"Quidditch trials are tomorrow morning. Make sure you're there." Miles Bletchley said, smirking at me.

"You want me to try out?" I prompted happily, grinning.

A particular blonde prat seemed to be eavesdropping because he immediately stalked over.

"You can't let her try out!" He spat, scowling at me.

"And why is that, Malfoy?" Flint mused, raising his eyebrows.

"Be—Because she's—you can't let her on the team just because she got a nice broom!" Malfoy stuttered sheepishly.

"You're the one who's daddy bought you into the team." I snapped, annoyedly.

"Oh please Malfoy— you're just scared she'll take you're place." Bletchley scoffed.

"I am not!" He spat, his cheeks reddening.