Diary of a Rebel Hufflepuff

Dear Diary,

I never, ever, ever thought that I would actually be WRITING in my diary, but I just have one thing that I really, really need to write.

I AM SICK AND TIRED OF...well, EVERYTHING!!! I'm tired of the whole "Hufflepuff stereotype"; tired of how everyone automatically assumes that I'm stupid, dull, but kind; tired of, well, like I said...EVERYTHING.

I am going to change that.

Dear Diary,

Today I got frustrated again. Every time I pass people in the hallway, they either tease me about my "stupidity", treat me like a three-year-old (very kindly and speaking simply...so that I'll understand, of course), or just ignore me.

See, I know I said I was going to change my image, but I usually talk (or, in this case, write) but never actually DO anything.

Okay, Angela. (That's my name, did I tell you that before?) You WILL do something about it tomorrow.

(The stuff in bold is the voice inside my head, by the way. Yes, I have a voice inside my head. No, I haven't been to a psychiatrist lately. Why?)

Dear Diary,

Too lazy.

Dear Diary,

Too cowardly.

Dear Diary,

I scared everybody today! You should have SEEN the looks on their faces---oh yeah, you couldn't anyway, you're an inanimate object---when I walked into History of Magic wearing muggle clothing. That's right, muggle clothing.

BLACK muggle clothing.

Not to mention chains, (temporary) tattoos, and headphones blasting heavy metal loud enough for people across the hallway to understand the lyrics.

Oh yeah. That was good.

I walked to the back, sat down, leaned my chair back, crossed my arms, and put my feet up on the desk. I put on my best "rebel" look, which was pretty good, considering the fact that I'm an excellent actress. (I also tried very, very hard not to laugh at the expressions of shock on everyone's faces.)

However, Professor Binns didn't notice a thing.

Pity.

Everyone else did, though.

Dear Diary,

This is the same day as the last entry. I entered Transfiguration, my next class, with the same outfit and routine. However, Professor McGonagall noticed. Boy, did she NOTICE.

"Abbot!" she called sharply as soon as I sat down and put my feet on the desk. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Outside the classroom, I could see my little sister, Hannah, start as she heard McGonagall snap "Abbot!" Then she saw me, and looked away, relieved that she wasn't in trouble. (What a Hufflepuff... You ARE a Hufflepuff... Oh yeah, never mind.) Then she did a double take and turned her head swiftly to look at me again, with an expression of utmost disbelief on her face. I smiled sarcastically.

But I had more pressing problems than some little sister.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

McGonagall stared. I don't think anyone had EVER said that to her before. (And with how mad she got at you, I wonder why...)

"Abbot, what are you WEARING?"

"Clothes," I said. "Gee, Professor, you're not real quick on the uptake today, are you?" (Argh...I burn with embarrassment.........I, though.)

There was a pause. Then...

"Miss Abbot," said McGonagall slowly, trying to keep her voice steady and calm, but I could hear it shaking with anger. "Please get up, and report to the Headmaster."

"No, I don't think I will," I said casually.

Another long pause. You could just feel the tension. Then McGonagall said something that actually DID make me react---I had underestimated her.

"Why, Angela?" she asked softly. "Why are you doing this?"

"DO YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL? DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS, DAY AFTER DAY AFTER F***ING DAY, TO BE STEREOTYPED, TO ALWAYS BE JUDGED? EVERY TIME SOMEONE PASSES ME IN THE CORRIDOR, THEY ALWAYS THINK, "OH, A HUFFLEPUFF...THEY'RE NICE, BUT NOT REAL BRIGHT..."

Surprisingly, McGonagall was listening. That encouraged me. I took a deep breath and went on.

"WHO SAYS WE CAN'T BE SMART OR BRAVE, JUST BECAUSE WE'RE MORE LOYAL? THERE ARE SMART GRYFFINDORS! BRAVE RAVENCLAWS! NICE SLYTHERINS! ...well, at least...theoretically..............BUT WHY NOT INTELLEGENT, BRAVE HUFFLEPUFFS? WHY NOT? AND HUFFLEPUFF IS ALWAYS MADE FUN OF, ALWAYS THE LAST CHOICE FOR A HOUSE---BESIDES SLYTHERIN---ALWAYS A 'GOODY TWO-SHOES' HOUSE, AND WE'RE ALWAYS LAST FOR THE HOUSE CUP."

"Abbot, maybe if you worked harder, you would get more house points---"

"OH, LIKE WE DON'T WORK HARD? THAT'S ONE OF THE F***ING HUFFLEPUFF TRAITS! WE DON'T GET INTO TROUBLE, WE DO ALL OUR WORK, WE'RE PRACTICALLY PERFECT!! BUT, NO, SOME RAVENCLAW PASSES A TEST WITH FLYING COLORS THAT NO ONE FROM ANY HOUSE COULD HAVE DONE EVEN IF THEY HAD STUDIED FOR YEARS, OR SOME SLYTHERIN SUCKS UP TO SNAPE FOR POINTS, OR POTTER-"

Here my voice started dripping sarcasm.

"POTTER SAVES THE WORLD AGAIN, AND GRYFFINDOR GETS 200 POINTS OR WHATEVER (remember, kids, you can only win the House Cup if you successfully save the world, but if you fail you can always get consolation points for trying), AND IS F***ING WASTED--"

"Abbot, listen to me---"

"AND NO MATTER WHAT WE DO, NO MATTER HOW GOOD WE ARE, NOTHING EVER TURNS OUT RIGHT FOR US, DOES IT? WE NEVER GET ANY FAME, ANY GLORY! ISN'T LOYALTY AS IMPORTANT, OR MORE, THAN BRAVERY? SOMEONE CAN BE A BRAVE TRAITOR! A SMART---"

"Abbot, listen to me!"

"NO!" I yelled, glaring at her. I then decided to see how many curses I could fit in one sentence. "NO, YOU F***ING LISTEN TO ME, YOU GOD DAMN MOTHER F***ING SON OF A BITCH!"

The room suddenly went amazingly quiet.

"Miss Abbot!" McGonagall said, putting one hand over her heart, now looking thoroughly shocked.

"Oh, Professor!" I gasped, covering my mouth and widening my eyes in horror. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that..."

"That's quite all right," replied McGonagall faintly, fanning herself with one hand.

And then I just had to go and open my big mouth. "What I meant to say was DAUGHTER of a bitch."

I'm probably going to be expelled.

Dear Diary,

Not expelled, but detention every night for six months, 150 points off Hufflepuff, and a long owl home to my parents. Don't care, though. They don't know I'm using magic for my detentions...

Dear Diary,

Well, it seems that the rest of the Hufflepuffs have now officially disowned me. Apparently I'm not stupid, friendly, and submissive enough.

I'm writing this during Lunch, and I just mentioned the above because since I have no one to sit with, I feel kinda...

Lonely.

Okay, I've GOT to stop sulking in self-pity. This is ridiculous. Hey, I got exactly what I wanted, didn't I?"

Be careful what you wish for.

Lunch is ending now. Well, time for me to get going. Potions next.

Oh boy, oh boy.

Dear Diary,

How did he do that? How did he change "original", a compliment, into an insult without even a trace of sarcasm in his voice? I have to learn that art, I decided. Maybe it was in the pause.

"Why, yes, Professor," I replied. "I'd say that your style of teaching is pretty...original..."

A few snickers.

Snape's eyes grew narrower. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a vial. "Do you know what this is, Miss Abbot?" he asked, showing me the vial.

Shit. Was he gonna try to poison me? "Liquefied marijuana?"

More snickers. It's so easy to make nervous people laugh.

Snape smiled ever-so-slightly. "Well, Miss Abbot, why don't you find out?"

Oh man, whaddam I gonna do, whaddam I gonna do , whatddam I gonna do? I thought rapidly, but the best thing I could come up with under such pressure was:

"Free drugs? Hell yeah!" I snatched the bottle out of his hand

He was caught off guard, but only momentarily. "Go ahead, Miss Abbot. Find out."

Dammit, why'd I take the vial? I am SO screwed.

"Oh, Professor," I said as earnestly as I could. "I wouldn't wanna get high in your class, now, would I? That would ruin my whole learning experience!"

Snape opened his mouth to reply. Luckily, at that exact moment, a Filibuster's Firework went off, effectively distracting Snape. I couldn't believe it! I was incredibly lucky...or...maybe...........someone had done that for me?

The class ended. "Class dismissed!" Snape barked, then continued to lecture the Weasley twins who, apparently, had thrown the firework.

I waited for them outside the classroom, "accidentally" spilling all my books out of my bag and then slowly putting them back.

They emerged a short while later. "Hey!" one of them said in a friendly tone, bending down to help me pick up my books.

"Hi," I said. "Was that---um. Did you..."

"Do that to save you?" said the other one, and grinned. ", by the way---" he jerked his thumb at his twin "---that threw the firecracker. His idea. I just got dragged into it 'cause I'm his twin. Thank him."

I looked at the one picking up my books. "Thanks," I said.

"No problem. Angela, right?"

"Yeah, " I said. I could feel my face getting slightly red. I don't talk to guys much. They weren't exactly bad-looking, either. "Um...you guys probably get this all the time, but...which one is which?"

They grinned simultaneously. "I'm Fred," said the one standing.

"George," said the other one, handing me the last book.

So George was the one who'd "saved me", and he had helped me with my books. I'd have to remember that, so I'd do something nice for him in the future.

"How do people tell you guys apart?" I asked curiously.

"Simple. I'm better-looking," said George.

"We're identical twins, you git!"

They walked away, arguing. I couldn't help grinning as I hurried to my next class.

Sometimes you find kindness in the most unexpected of places.

Dear Diary,

I guess I'm getting used to it. I don't mind not having friends to sit with, and it's kinda fun, actually, just wandering around, watching other people, thinking my own thoughts. It's refreshing.

Bullshit. Who do I think I'm fooling? I'm so lonely...