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The Art of Being Bad by liltinglight
Chapter 1 : Prologue
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 17


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*Authors Note: Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction EVAH! So if you are reading this I am so thankful! I know this prologue is uber short, but that's just because this is a brief introduction to the actual story. The next chapter is when the story really commences. Please review and I'll love you forever! Also, this story is dedicated to Dally from the Outsiders. :)Oh, and anything you recognize I do not own. Also, avec is French for with. Yeah, that's it. :)


 

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THANK YOU TO ILLUMINATION AT TDA FOR THE BEAUTIFUL CHAPTER IMAGE! :)
 

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You see, it all started with a boy, like any other predicament of a teenage girl.
 

But then I had a bout of impulsive stupidity, followed by mortification and too much Ben and Jerry's, and before I knew it I had personally enlisted the aid of my arch nemesis in an insane scheme to ruin my reputation and ultimately win the heart of Lysander Scamander.

Sure, reflecting on it now, it sounds pretty darn bonkers.

On my defense, the plot seemed completely logical at the time, which was around midnight. And at midnight, everything just makes sense, even the crazy wild stuff in your dreams. And zany plans that involve your enemy's assistance.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Because, like I said, it all began with a boy.

Lysander Scamander.

Now, believe me, I, Rose Weasley, am not one of those bimbos who giggles when a decent-looking bloke walks by. But Sander...

Cue the dreamy sigh.

Lysander Scamander is something of a god to Hogwarts. I'm not even exaggerating; first through seventh years literally worship the kid. And I don't mean just the girls either; practically every guy is desperate to earn his 'mateship'. Because once a dude squirms his way into Sander's inner circle, said dude scores the prettiest girls, the hottest party invites, and the popularity that only Sander himself could rival. And as for the females... well, let's just say that he has the lot of us swooning. And, actually, a fair amount of guys too.

So you might be mistaking him for a ladies man. The kind without a heart but mindblowingly attractive looks. But he's actually a really good guy. I mean, he's sweet to everyone, even professors. And not to mention well rounded. He's the captain of the quidditch team and Head Boy. The boy is like the epitome of perfection.

And beautiful. Really freaking beautiful.

But the factor that triggered my infatuation with him is his brains. I mean, sure, the looks don't hurt either. But I'm not really the type that goes crazy over appearance. Actually, I don't really go boy crazy at all. The only guy I've ever honestly liked was Sander.

Okay, okay! I've always had a really weird crush on Rhett Butler, but I swear that's it! If Rhett Butler isn't the perfect specimen of man I don't know who is.

But, as I was saying, Sander is extremely smart. I've heard that he receives all Es and Os on his papers. And that he's a natural at potions. Which is probably my favorite subject.

I have adored Sander for five years... Since the moment he cast me that smile, his famous dazzling pearly smile, as I was first seated at the Gryffindor table.

And, as ridiculously cheezy as that is, that was the beginning of my creepy crush on Lysander Scamander.

Cool story, really.

And now I feel completely pathetic for rambling on about a boy. But it is necessary that you comprehend the perfection that is Lysander Scamander in order to understand why I did what I did.

You see, I don't usually do stupid things. And when I do stupid things, it is always unintentional. Like biffing it down the stairs, or colliding with other people in the hall. Which both occur way too frequently now that I mention it. But I never put myself out there. Which is sort of strange considering I'm a Gryffindor. And voluntarily engaging in idiotic affairs is practically what Gryffindors are famous for. But me, I'm just a wallflower. You know, always hanging back, keeping to herself... that's Rose Weasley. Except when I'm falling flat on my face, people don't really seem to notice me. Which is completely fine by me. My cousins can be the conspicuous, outgoing ones for all I care. The whole concept of being social isn't really my thing.

Merlin, I really sound like a fruit cup. Or one of those antisocial psychos. But you see, I'm just incredibly freakishly awkward, so I would rather just spare myself the humiliation of attempting socialize. I'm really just looking out for everyone's best interest by refusing to mix with others. Because if I mingle with someone, I will inevitably make them and myself feel awkward, so its best that I just keep to myself.

And I almost always keep to myself. But earlier, like I said, I had a spurt of reckless stupidity which started with Lysander Scamander and ended with fraternization avec the enemy.

Now, you've most likely gathered that I'm helplessly in love with Lysander Scamander. And that I'm an awkward fruit cup.

And, well, you see, awkward fruit cups and hot guys don't mix.

Particularly when said fruit cup confesses her undying affection for said hot guy on top of the bloody astronomy tower.

It's kind of a funny story.

But not really.

Because, before I could reclaim my rejected love, I had consumed enough cookie dough ice cream to sustain Canada and was begging Scorpius Malfoy for lessons in the art of being bad.

Yeah, I'm screwed.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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