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Member No.: 661
Joined: 14-February 09
Oh, I loved writing it...
Author: datbenik513 Title(if one): I Hate Her Pairing(if any): None Genre General Warnings: Some bad words WordCount: 247
I HATE HER
I hate that she's always around him. In class, in the library, in Hogsmeade, in one of their escapades, always. She won't leave his side for a minute; she acts as if they were some bloody kind of Siamese twins.
I hate that he spends all his free time with her. He never talks to me, he never recognizes me, I'm nothing to him. I'm here for him; he only has to reach out with his hands and call my name, but he's too thick to realize it.
I hate that she can't be angry with him, even when she reproaches him for something he had (or hadn't) done.
I hate the way how she smiles at him, flashing her ugly beaver teeth. I hate how she throws her head back, sending that bush of hair flying in the air as they laugh together. I hate how the two of them stroll down the path leading to Hagrid's hut, comfortably holding each other's hands.
My blood boils when I see her hugging him, comforting him when he's hurt and pained, when he feels the whole Wizarding world is against him, when the burden on his shoulders once in a while becomes too heavy. I could kill her with my bare hands when she sneaks up to the Hospital wing, watching out for him while he's recovering from one of his injuries.
I hate that I can't be a part of his life because of Hermione bloody Granger.
Author: SiriuslyCrack Title(if one): Hate is NOT a strong word Pairing(if any): None Genre General, Angst Warnings: Lots of hate. lol WordCount: *shrugs* :unsure:
She watched them whisper to each other and then giggle behind their hands in an annoying way. They were just a group of girls - her own classmates. Yet there was something about them that repulsed her, irked her. Maybe it was the way they dressed, or the way they strutted around, thinking that the world belonged to them. It could also be because of the fact that they regularly gossiped about unimportant things like Mary's frilly clothes or who went out with Rose on Sunday. So what if James had a habit of biting nails? Samantha could eat whatever she liked and Mike could be as OCD-ish as anyone!
Her blood boiled every time she heard them laughing behind someone's back, or batting their eyelashes at a rich boy, or bribing their way up on the list of class toppers, or insulting someone nice for no particular reason. They were sick, sick people. They disgusted her. There was no one she hated more than those pathetic girls. She had violent thoughts whenever she thought about them. Bashing their heads together seemed like a good idea. But, in the end, they weren't even worth it.
At that moment, one of the girls caught her eye and immediately began whispering in her partner's ear. Both girls smiled at her and she, in turn, threw them a big fake grin. No matter how much she hated those foul, evil bints, she had to maintain a firm acquaintance and a polite smile for public appearances. She knew that they hated her just as much as she hated them... but not everyone needed to know that. Not everyone understood pure loathing. The measure of her hate was above and beyond the realms of this universe... or so it felt like whenever she looked at them.
There is no faculty of the human soul so persistent and universal as that of hatred. ~ Henry Ward Beecher
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