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    "What the bloody hell is wrong with them?" I asked as a group of screaming girls walked past me on their way down Diagon Alley. It was mid August and I was doing all of my back to school shopping.

    "It's those idiot Gryffindorks again" my best friend McKenzie Parkinson replied.

    "Yeah, I bet Quidditch boy is around here somewhere." our other best friend, Jessica Flint added.

    "As long as it isn't Saint Potter." I said, turning away from the loud group of girls and walking into Flourish and Blotts to buy the school books I would need. The bookstore was full of Hogwarts students looking for their new school books. "Was our school always full of midgets?" I asked, looking around at the sea of heads, most much shorter than my own. My friends and I, collectively known as the Terrible Threesome, were going into our final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As 7th years, we fully intended to wreak havoc upon the castle.

    "Lil, why in the name of Merlin are you taking eight bloody classes this year? Mick and I are only taking 5," Jessica asked, taking my Hogwarts letter out of my hand.

    "I have to, I want to go into the Ministry once I get out of Hogwarts." Both of my friends gasped at this new piece of information. I had never told anyone that I intended to go into the government after I graduated, most people expected I would just get marry and have kids. That is, after all, what was expected of a proper, pure-blooded witch.
   
    Perhaps I should back up a moment and make the proper introductions. My name is Lily Potter. No, I'm not that Lily Potter. Merlin, I'd kill myself if I were. James Potter and my father were cousins, so I got stuck with the same surname as Saint Potter himself. As you may have noticed, he and I don't exactly get along, he didn't even know about me until some time during his first year. It really isn't all that surprising, actually, seeing as those Gryffindorks don't usually associate with us Slytherins much. Oh, did I forget to mention that? I'm a Slytherin and damn proud of it, too. Anyway, I guess you probably want to know what I look like, huh? I'm tall, about 5'7 or so, with auburn hair and hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief. Actually, it was my eyes that finally gave me away to Potter.  
   
    "Watch where you're going," I growled as I pushed Potter away from me. He had been hurrying somewhere and had obviously not seen me, causing our inevitable collision.

    "Sorry," he mumbled, "I didn't" he began, but stopped when he looked at me.

    "You didn't what? Have a brain? Yeah, I noticed. And why are you staring at me like that?" I'm not gonna lie, the little freak was creeping me out a little.

    "Your eyes. I've seen those eyes before."

    "What? You don't know me. How dare you imply that I would associate with a Gryffindork?"





    Of course I knew that the dweeb was my cousin, but I wasn't going to let him - or anyone else, for that matter - know about it.  Apparently later that night he ran to Dumbledore and asked him about it. The old fart ratted me out and now the whole damn castle knows I'm related to him. I try not to think about it, really. Anyway, back to the introductions.
   
    McKenzie Parkinson is my absolute best friend, we grew up together. Well, actually we all grew up together really. It was a pure-blooded thing. McKenzie is Pansy's older sister, but the two are nothing alike. McKenzie is feisty, the girl's a fighter. Somehow she manages to be the proper pure-blood daughter and yet still be as fiercely feministic as possible. Her hair is never the same, she changes it all the time. I believe that it was highlighted red and down past her shoulders during our 7th year, but I could be wrong. Her eyes are deep and dark, almost black, and usually cold as ice. Mickie is one of those people who you don't want to be in the bad graces of. Basically, she's amazing, and loyal to the end, if you're one of her friends, but if you get on her bad side? She'd kill you in your sleep and make it look like an accident. We were like sisters back then, nothing could bring us apart.
   
    Jessica Flint, Marcus' younger sister, is our other best friend.  Jessica is a flirt. Ok, well, maybe flirt is an understatement. Jessica is a slut. She's slept with just about every boy in our year, other than her brother of course, and a few from other years as well. We put up with it mainly because, apart from that, she's the best friend you'll ever have. She's even nice - if she likes you. Jessica's eyes are this amazingly dazzling, deep blue color. Her hair during 7th year was a startling blue color. Jessica never did anything she wasn't supposed to, at least as far as pure-blood etiquette was concerned, her hair was her one form of rebellion. The three of us one night during the summer before our last year got completely drunk after one of the endless string of balls and galas we attend. Jessica decided that it was time for her to stand up against her parents (they were trying to get her to marry some pure-blood geek who had been sorted into Ravenclaw).  The hair color was sort of a spur-of-the-moment-rebellion type thing.
   
    Then there were the boys; Jason Avery,  Raphael Lestrange, and the three you already know, Flint, Derrick, and Bole. Avery was a pretty-boy, kind of like that Malfoy kid, but much smarter. He was in the top 10% of our class and earned almost straight Os on his O.W.Ls. He has blonde hair, glimmering brown eyes, and a gleaming smile. He's tall, dark and was the heartthrob of our year. He, however, knew that he was wanted and was quite the arrogant prick about it. Unfortunately for me, I dated the prat during our 5th and 6th year. Lestrange was a different story. He was quiet and not incredibly intelligent, but not stupid either. He was a master at scheming and could remember the tiniest detail. That is if he cared enough to pay attention. Lestrange could have been much smarter had he tried, at all, in any of his classes. He has dark hair, almost black, with eyes just as dark. He wore glasses during his time at school, and has his left ear pierced. The other three I believe you already know, Derrick and Bole are the beaters on the Slytherin Quidditch team and Flint, well, Flint is infamous around Hogwarts. If you know anything about our time there, you know who Marcus Flint is.
   
    As we continued to walk through the store, I heard some shouting from behind the bookcase next to where we stood.  "You don't know what you're talking about, Flint, skill is more important than speed. Any wizard will tell you that"

    "Then what would you know about it, you filthy mudblood?" Oh Flint, he was forever causing problems. We walked over to the scene, finding the boys standing around Marcus, who was face to face with Spinnit, Johnson, and a few other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Both groups had their wands out and pointed at each other.

    "Now, now, we don't want to kill them just yet, Marcus, then who would we have to entertain us this year?"

    "What makes you think that they would beat us, Potter?" Bell said, never taking her eyes off of Marcus or his wand.

    "Well, for one, you're Gryffindorks. And for two, oh the hell with this, Wingardium Leviosa." The spell hit her squarely in the chest and she flew into the air, dropping her wand in the process. "Now what was that about why you would lose?" My friends all laughed as I floated her around for a minute, her friends standing there, not knowing what to do. "This is boring" I said after a minute and dropped her to the floor.
   
    "C'mon guys, let's get out of here, it's full of Gryffindorks." We pushed past them, paid for our things and quickly left the bookstore, laughing.

    "Flint!" We stopped in our tracks and turned back towards Flourish and Blotts to see none other than Oliver Wood exiting the store. We quickly got into our normal formation; Marcus stood in front, flanked by McKenzie and myself, with Jessica on my other side and the rest of the boys behind us.

    "You called?"

    "Aye."

    "What  do you want, Quidditch boy?" I said in a bored tone, leaning my elbow on Marcus' shoulder. Oliver turned his gaze from Flint towards me and my smirk faltered momentarily, the way he looked at me made me feel as though he could see right through me.

    "I told you not to call me that," he replied through clenched teeth, his eyes still staring me down, looking through me. Avery looked between Oliver and me, locked in a stare-down, and pushed his way past Marcus.

    "Stop looking at her like that, you filthy muggle-lover," he said and punched Oliver squarely in the jaw. As Oliver stood there in shock, we simply turned and walked away.

    "What was that about?" McKenzie asked as we sat down at an outdoor café.

    "I didn't like his face." Avery said in a tone that very clearly told us the conversation was over. After a quick lunch, the eight of us figured it was time we went home, there was a party at the Malfoy manner that night and we had to get ready for it.

    "You guys coming to my place after the party tonight?" I asked as we stood up, leaving without paying for our lunch. We all agreed that we would head over to my house after the Malfoy party got boring and have a little party of our own.

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