Chapter 1 : I.
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It’s funny how we always seem to develop a taste for the lavish side of life. The thrills, the parties, the glamour, the secrets, the blood, the chocolate. It becomes an addiction, a comfort.
She pinched her two remaining galleons together watching the golden light reflect and bounce off the satin red walls of her bedroom. She sighed. Surely this would not cover the expense of all the cravings of a young teenage girl. There were drinks to be drunk and robes to be worn and delicacies to be indulged. An entire party going on right outside her door and nothing to finance this poor girl’s fun.
Fortunately, the end of holiday meant the return of school, which led to a renewed source of income for Gen. While boys will pay for sex, girls are smarter. They know how to invest their money toward a greater form of pleasure. Some may call it revenge, some called it manipulation, but she called it fun.
It wasn’t hard to get these boys to fall in love, they can be deeper than you’d expect. And it was even easier to break them down, piece by piece.
“I am not a slag,” she repeated a week later in hushed tones to a red eyed girl, huddled together in the trophy room after hours. The girl was Shannon Kelly, whose ex-boyfriend (whom she was still in love with) had slept with Shannon’s sister over the holiday. It was almost like free money, for Edmund Carey was a complete and utter dolt, and such a mission to break his heart wouldn’t take more than a month or two, tops.
Shannon complied and paid up front, leaving Gen to saunter back to her common room with her pockets full and a sly little smirk on her face. It wasn’t all about the money, no, that was a convenient plus. A girl had to entertain herself somehow.
“Thanks Stuey,” She whispered walking past the first of her two best friends. Sturgis Podmore was a prefect and had been keeping watch for her.
“Heading back already?”
“Who knows, the night is young, and the kitchen is full,” she hinted.
“Don’t get caught,” he said and turned to leave. It was only him and the other Ravenclaw prefect, Zelda Smalls, on watch tonight, along with the Gryffindor prefects, who were much too cool to punish anyone from their own house.
“Oh!” Gen called back, causing him to turn around. “We’re going to have to sabotage some quidditch later.” Edmund was on the Gryffindor team, and thus Gen would need to find a way to have some direct interaction with him. “Temporarily, of course.”
“Just as long as you’re the one casting the spells, I won’t be getting kicked off this early into the season” Sturgis played for Ravenclaw and, unfortunately, had morals.
“Whatever you say, Stu.”
Gen had opted out of a kitchen run, and instead decided to head back to her common room, like the good little Gryffindor she was, to retell everything to her other best friend, Emmeline Vance.
She crept back up into the 6th year girls’ dormitory and peaked behind her friend’s curtain.
“Emmeline, darling, time for breakfast.”
“You’re joking,” she moaned and rolled over onto her stomach.
“Don’t you want to hear my exciting news?”
“It’s not even news anymore, Gen, hail to you, Hogwart’s finest heartbreaker, England’s biggest drama queen.”
“His name is Edmund.”
“Is he fit?”
“Fit enough,” Gen mused dancing back across the room to her own bed. She curled up, waiting for sleep to come.
And as she waited her mind drifted back to last Christmas, actually the evening before, when she and Stu had gone out into the city to celebrate simply being alive. Later that night they were laying on her bedroom floor, drunk and waiting for their minds to shut down and for sleep to over-take them, just as Gen was doing in the present.
“Do you ever get sad?” he had asked her.
“Sad about what?”
“About what you do.”
She had to admit, there were times when Gen got glimpses into who a person really was, and she was reminded that they really were a human being and not just a rat, as she liked to call them. And it had made her sad. But she had to remember why she was there in the first place; because They. Were. Rats. They had hurt someone and now she was there to hurt them. This was the block that had always been there, it was her greatest strength, this ability to block things and push them from her mind. And it hadn’t failed her yet.
A/N: Wow, it’s been awhile. I’m excited to rewrite this. There were lots of dumb grammar mistakes and it was extremely confusing because I was just a thirteen year old writing an off-the-cusp story with a plot based on a Skye Sweetnam song. I hope this is much more clear and enjoyable. Thanks for sticking with me!
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