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Laurel's POV

 

I was going to kill that rotten bitch Weasley. How dare she humiliate me like that! Especially in front of Potter, she’d pay for it. I’d be sure of it. I would make sure she lived to regret messing with Laurel Jordan. I think I managed to get her back quickly enough, though. I was far from happy that I’d had to be dragged off the train and all the way up to the hospital wing with students unable to peel their eyes away from me. Even covered in gruesome boils, I was a damn sight more attractive than any of them, I was sure. Weasley had a thick gash across her neck, I’d hit her jugular with my curse. I smiled to myself. That was going to leave a permanent scar, and if it didn’t I could always keep making new ones until it did. Or she died. I would have been happy with either. She was faint and drowsy by the time we were at the hospital wing, I hoped that meant she was on her way out. I could figure out a way to patch things up with Potter. If nothing else, the fact that I was a great shag would have him crawling back in no time. He’d get over the loss of his relative.

 

Potter hadn’t been too impressed with me for using such a “destructive” curse on his precious little cousin, but I’m fairly sure it’d be a good warning to him that if he angered me, I could inflict some pain. Potter, I’m pretty sure, had stormed off straight to his dormitory, leaving his younger brother and the Malfoy kid with little helpless Rosie. Pity.






 

 





 

Madame Pomfrey had rushed straight to Weasley on our entrance, ignoring me completely, other than silently ordering me to take a seat with a flick of her hand. I thought I was more important and clearly in greater need of medical attention, besides Weasley deserved what she’d gotten. At first the old witch hadn’t made the connection between the two of us being involved in the same incident. Dumbass. Someone was clearly a Hufflepuff.






 

 





 

“Miss Weasley, I’ve only ever seen one curse before capable of damage such as this. Who cast it?” the old bat had croaked, only for Weasley to shout some profanities and point at me. When Pomfrey turned around, I gave her a sweet smile. Dear old Poppy muttered something about the Headmaster, but I ignored it. After all, I was only acting in self-defence. Nobody makes Laurel Jordan ugly and gets away with it. Professor Flitwick could crawl up his own tiny arse for all I cared.






 

 





 

Just as she mentioned him, the dwarf that was our loyal headmaster, Professor Flitwick, stormed into the room in a rather amusing way. The old fellow had a thing for perfect timing. His height however, didn’t really help him much. It made him seem more comical rather than threatening.






 

 





 

“What is going on here?” He yelled. Jeez, for such a small guy, he had a set of lungs on him. I don’t think he even expected an answer, because he kept screaming about tarnishing the reputation of Hogwarts, before turning to Weasley and demanding information. Weasley’s little brat of a brother and Potter’s sister gave each other a worried look, before moving out of the doorway to sit on the bed next to our little Rosie’s.






 

 





 

“That bitch tried to kill me!” Rosie bellowed back at him, she tried to stand, but Pomfrey shoved her back down onto the bed, muttering about blood loss. Flitwick turned around, as if he hadn’t previously noticed my presence. He glowered.






 

 





 

“Well, well, Miss Jordan. I think this must be a new record for you. You’ve already put a fellow student in the hospital wing and school hasn’t even started yet.” Oh, yes, I had a strong reputation here at Hogwarts for putting several annoying little nippers in the hospital wing. Last year, a second year ended up in St Mungos because I’d hexed him so hard for not completing my Potions essay to a reasonable standard. I never did find out what happened to him. His family tried to sue me or something, but settled with Flitwick giving me detentions for six months and disallowing me trips to Hogsmeade. I still went, of course, using the secret tunnel Potter had showed me during our fling in third year.






 

 





 

“I was purely acting in self-defence, Professor.” I said, smirking. “As you can see, I got the worse end of the deal.” His mouth opened in shock, as if to say are-you-freaking-kidding-me and looked between the gash on Weasley’s neck and the gross looking boils that had popped up all over my face. Rosie just narrowed her eyes, as did the rest of her pathetic little kin. And they thought I was the bitch.






 

 

“Never in my time at Hogwarts have I ever seen such disgrace, Miss Jordan. One hundred points from Slytherin! And fifty from Gryffindor.”






 

 

Albie and Scorpie, the darlings, jumped off their seats and began protesting, before a look from Flitwick silenced them. “You’ll pay for this, Jordan!” Potter mouthed menacingly as he backed out of the hospital wing, followed by Scorpius who had stopped momentarily to plant a kiss on Weasley’s cheek. How revolting.






 

 

“Detentions for a month, both of you!” Flitwick yells, and when Weasley begun to protest he barked an order at her to shut the hell up or something and stormed right out of the room, casting a charm behind him that left my face totally boil free. At least he goes out in style.






 

 





 

“You two can go now, straight to the Great Hall. And for the love of Merlin don’t kill each other.” Pomfrey wheezed as she finished bandaging Weasley’s neck and returned to her office looking like she couldn’t really give a tiny Pixie’s arse if me and Rosie killed each other. She just wouldn’t want to do the paperwork.






 

 





 

I’d rather not have had to walk with Weasley, since I hated her and everything, but some things in life just can’t be escaped. So we walked to the Great Hall in stony cold silence for a few minutes, until she gave up glaring and silently cursing me to hell or whatever.






 

 





 

“It’s all your fault, you know!” She’d stopped walking, maybe expecting me to come to a halt and acknowledge her. Instead she just shouted and my retreating figure like a moron.






 

 





 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Weasley.”






 

 





 

“You always fuck everything up! And…and it’s not like you don’t do it intentionally. What good do you get out of ruining other people’s lives?”






 

 

I turned around to face her. “When you get rid of all the idiots, the world’s a better place.” I smiled at her, she looked infuriated. She kept opening and closing her mouth as if to say something, but instead she just looked like a retarded goldfish. So instead of standing there watching her gawk at me, I headed off towards the Great Hall without her.






 

 





 

“James doesn’t want you!” Her voice came booming behind me, echoing off the walls through the empty corridors. I stopped, not because she’s gotten to me or anything. More because of the shock that she said anything, and that it came so loudly. “He’ll never want you, Jordan! Not as a friend, not as a fuckbuddy, not as a lover or anything like that. Get your fucking twisted little brain around it, JAMES SIRIUS POTTER LOVES RHEAGAN KATHERINE GOLDSTEIN.” I scoffed and kept walking, shaking my head and flicking my hair behind my shoulders. I knew that if I turned around I’d be greeted by an angry expression on a face as red as the girls hair. So I left it. As far as I was aware, she didn’t follow me. She might’ve gone straight back to her dormitory, ignoring Pomfrey’s orders. Naughty. Or she might have spontaneously combusted, I didn’t really care either way.






 

 





 

As I opened the massive oak doors leading into the Great Hall, a sort of hush fell over the crowds of people, and they all stared at me. Probably wondering how I managed to be so beautiful on such a regular basis. If you’ve got it, flaunt it and make others jealous, as Mother used to say. I noticed Wood and Wheeler roll their eyes and sigh, exchanging a sarcastic comment, quite possibly. I approached them, tapping Wheeler more forcefully than necessary on the shoulder. She gave me a dirty look but moved up to take a seat between her and Kasper Zabini. Dominique Weasley looked about ready to burst, not even able to control the redness in her face, or the tension in her muscles.






 

 

“Do you want something? Or are you constipated?” I snapped at her, her mouth fell open and she could barely help but start yelling.






 

 





 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jordan? Do you have some sort of sick need to make everyone else’s lives hell? WHERE IN THE NAME OF MERLIN DID YOU LEARN THAT SPELL ANYWAY!?”






 

 

Weasley had silenced the entire Hall, even the teachers leaned in slightly to hear my response. I cast my memory back to fourth year, after charming rocks to pelt themselves at some first years I’d had to serve detention with Professor Heyes – just about the creepiest professor that ever lived. He’d lost something with a long name that I couldn’t pronounce, and told me to find it for him in the room where everything is hidden. Seriously that’s all the information I’d been given. It wasn’t much to go on. He decided to send a house elf with me so I wouldn’t go astray. Considerate old chap, isn’t he? How was I supposed to know where the fuck that room was? And then it just kind of appeared. The door, I mean. So naturally, I went through it and found what resembled a much cluttered loft space with high ceilings and useless crap everywhere. Very dark and dingy, and everything looked charred and it smelt a bit like smoke and bad deodorant mixed with the prominent smell of yuck. I found the book just lying there, it was all gross and tattered, and usually I wouldn’t even consider touching it. The idiot house elf was intrigued by it, though, and found it of some importance. It was an old NEWT Potions text book, covered in scribbles and belonging to some strange person who had the nerve to call himself a prince. Come on, who does that? Being the endearing and curious person of such high intellect I am, I flicked through the pages with great care to make sure all the shit that radiated from it didn’t ruin my manicure. I found the spell just written there on one of the pages, it didn’t say what it did or anything, and I swore I’d find out. It only jumped back into my memory when the bitch Weasley attacked me. For all I knew it could have spurted out rose buds – that would have been fitting. How was I supposed to know it would nearly behead her? It was funny though. A good laugh to tell the Grandkids.






 

 





 

“Stumbled across it.” I smirked, Dominique looked fit for murder.






 

 





 

“You’re an awful bitch, you know that?”






 

 





 

How original of her. Like I haven’t been told that ten times a day since I was seven.






 

 





 

“I actually quite pride myself on that, actually.” After all, being a bitch meant people were scared of you, and naturally they’ll do anything to get on your good side for the most part. It’s a fun life.






 

She made some sort of animal-like screeching noise and lunged across the table, narrowly missing my cheek with her three inch talons. It’d been Daisy who grabbed Dominique’s arm and stopped her from attacking my beautiful face. I wasn’t quite sure why she did it, nor was I grateful since I could have done as much myself, but Dominique’s face was just about the funniest thing ever. It was a little distracting.




 

Flitwick cleared his throat, and stood on his podium that he barely managed to peek over the top of.




 

“Welcome to the start of a wonderful year at Hogwarts.” Not likely. “I’m sure you’ll all have an eventful year. Please make note of extracurricular activities that I encourage you all to take part in.” He wishes. “There will be house competitions in these areas that will win points for your houses and help you towards winning the house cup at the end of this magnificent year. I must also bring attention to sixth year Apparition classes that will begin in October; all information can be found on the notice boards in your common rooms. As usual I must warn you to stay away from the Forbidden Forest at all costs. Members of staff have been warned not to enter either, so if you end up lost and alone within its boundaries very few will be willing to help you.” Some of the staff quite obviously disagreed with that, especially the former Gryffindors, and it was quite obvious that they were under orders not to enter the Forest themselves. I imagined only that oaf Hagrid would go in there every so often. Maybe I could trick Weasley into getting in there somehow…

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