Ramblings of a Ravenclaw

If there was one thing I could go into the past and change, I know what would be. I would choose not to go out with Cedric. I would choose to refuse to go to the Yule Ball with Cedric. I would choose to refuse Dumbledore when he told me that I was chosen for the Second Task, tell him that I had a fear of water or something, so I couldn't participate in it, so the whole school would not have been aware of Cedric's affection for me. As it is, everyone knows.

And ever since Cedric died, people have been expecting me to mourn. And I do mourn. It has been over a year since his death now, and I still feel the urge to collapse into tears every time I think about all of the wonderful things he did for me.

But it's been a whole year, goddammit! I don't usually resort to such a crude form of expresson as obscenity (no Ravenclaw does), but there are some things that a "Merlin's genitals!" or a "Niniane's lovesickness!" (two purely Ravenclaw swear-phrases) just can't express. Although I cared a lot about Cedric, and I have been mourning him, I am still a teenage girls. I mean, think about it. Most relationships (even if they are with caring Hufflepuffs) don't last more than a couple of months, and never more than a year. Cedric and I would probably have broken up over the summer anyways. We wouldn't have grown up and married and had kids or anything.

But when I try to move on and date, like with Harry Potter, I hear people whispering about me behind my back, criticizing me, claiming that my tears are all a cry for attention, that I'm shaming Cedric's memory. It might be my imagination, but I could almost swear that Hufflepuffs give me dirty looks when I walk by. Of course, dating Harry Potter isn't all it's made out to be. He's famous, and he's kind (although a bit awkward ... let me rephrase that. He's very awkward), but at times, he tends to be slightly clueless. Let me amend that. He's downright clueless and tactless. And I could almost have sworn that something was going on between him and that friend of his called Hermione, except that Morgane (my other-best-friend-besides-Marietta) maintains that Hermione has thing for Ron, and Harry is gay. I don't know. What with all his rather awkward attempts at kisses (he has potential, but is currently not that good of a kisser), who knows?

Ah, Marietta. Another source of contention. Although I don't exactly condone what she did, Hermione's sneak-trick is quite cruel. I mean, imprinting "sneak" all over her face like that? And Harry condones it? I mean, she's still my friend. He didn't have to go right out and call her the world's worst person in the world. Just the thought of what he said makes me fume. Hermione intelligent, indeed. If she was so intelligent, why didn't she make it into Ravenclaw?

...

I cannot believe I just wrote that. Being a Ravenclaw, I have personally detested Ravenclaw stereotypes all of my Hogwarts-life, and there I go and use one. See what that tactless Harry Potter made me do? Argh.

Ah, perhaps you want to know what the phrase "being a Ravenclaw" means? Well, too bad. Only those initiated into the Cult of the Raven's Claw can known what it truly means to be a member of the secret society.

What? No comment? Can't you people recognize melodrama when you read it? Sheesh.

Either way, my life is now perhaps dateless. I still collapse into tears at the thought of Cedric, no matter how hard I try to stop. You think I like crying all the time? You try kissing Harry Potter while crying, and see how embarrassing it is.

It's like I'm cursed or something.

But that's enough babbling about Cedric. Cedric is over and done with. He's dead. He was very nice while alive, but I would have broken up with him by now even if he were alive. There is no need to cry everytime I think about him, or feel guilty every time I sneak looks at ... well, never mind. I shouldn't tell you who I sneak peeks at. You'd ... well, let's just say that there are just some things I can't write down. I'm a Ravenclaw, and thus, pretty liberal. I won't sink into denial. I accept the fact that I may have a teensy-weensy crush on him. It's just because of his looks. His dark looks. After all, he's mean.

Although at times, he looks so se-

I'm not going to write it out. I refuse. Absolutely. Positively. Completely. I will instead ramble on about something else. Like Ravenclaw.

Yup. Ravenclaw is a fun House. It's the funnest House ever. Rowena rules. I am not thinking about P-

No. No. No. I am going to take a deep breath and think about Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw is the house of the liberal, the logical, and those who seek truth. Ambition is generally reserved for Slytherins. We don't even have the ambition to become top of the class, and do homework only when we feel like it. The point of being in Ravenclaw is not in doing well in class, but in the pure joy of academic pursuits ... in your free time.

And that, I admit, is one of the things I don't like about Hermione. She cares too much about grades, almost caring more about them than the actual knowledge she acquires.

But still, despite all her perfect scores, she still finds time to pursue her own academic interests, act upon her own liberal tendencies, apply magic to her practical life, and save the world! I swear, everything I listed above except for the saving-the-world part is the epitome of a perfect Ravenclaw! (You don't have to save the world to be perfect, just do the rest.)

I mean, where does the girl find the time? She is top of our year, managed to start and act upon this S.P.E.W. thing (although she could work on making it a more attractive prospect to potential members), knows enough practical and theoretical magic to do the sneak-trick and make the little numbered Galleons, and still has a life! And I mean a real life, full of boyfriends (Viktor Krum of all people!), good friends (she may not be a Quidditch player herself, but she has friends on the Quidditch team, and finds time to attend all the practices and games), and more! I mean, most people with lives don't manage to squeeze saving the world into their schedule.

I don't envy her. I really don't. Ravenclaws are not capable of jealousy.

Well, some are. But that's not the point. I just wonder how she prioritizes her schedule each day. I bet she thinks, "I wonder whether I should help Harry defeat Voldemort today, or insist that he study for his O.W.L.s today."

That's mean of me.

But I can still think it maliciously in my head.

Just as I can think those thought about Prof-

No. Don't want to go there. I was all fine on that tangent, and now...

Oh god. I'm using bad grammar. Really bad grammar.

I blame it all on Professor Sn-

No.

I am going to leave now. And maybe find out more about the lives of Ravenclaw witches and fashions in the thirteenth century. Yes, that's what I'll do. It'll take my mind off of Sev- ... off of Sn- ... off of Prof- ... off of the object of my affections.

No wait. I have to destroy this parchment first. No-one else must see it.

Destructus.