𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲¹ | ✓

𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

★·.·´¯'·.·★
. 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘
★·.·´¯'·.·★

         "𝐃𝐀𝐃, 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 to go, I can't be late. He'll just double the detention." Heather Lupin argued with her father, who had opened his mouth to say something but Heather had already pressed her lips to his cheek and ran out, ignoring the first years who stared at her, more importantly, her vibrant pink hair.

Many people question her about her hair, why pink? Why is it so bright? And Heather always has just one answer for them, and that is a cold and harsh, "None of your goddamn business you tosser." For a thirteen year old, she was feared, just like Malfoy. But she didn't bully people like him, she might be cold and unnecessarily harsh sometimes, but she'd never bully someone. Unfortunately, this made her a permanent target for Malfoy and sometimes, she wished she could tell him that her father is a werewolf and that he'd maul him into oblivion, but she'd never expose her father like that.

Her father was always a loving man, understanding and patient. He had told her that he was actually a werewolf when she started at Hogwarts, at first Heather was extremely afraid of her father, lying awake at night on a full moon, hoping he won't enter the room he himself had charmed shut, so he won't pry it open and hurt his one and only. Slowly over the span of two years, she had learned to accept what her father is and be grateful that she didn't bear the same curse her father bore, for that would destroy him.

Her mother on the other hand, she didn't even know her. The only things she knew was that she was a distant family of the Lourdes family, and that she married her father, had her and then disappeared. For three years of her life, Heather had tried to figure out who and where she is, but after she found out nothing but the fact that her mother was a failure of a mother, she dropped it and never bothered ever again.

Heather was running in the hallway, again. McGonagall had given her detention in hopes of stopping her but alas, the young girl had a knack for trouble, just like her father. As she turned the corner, she collided with something solid and went flying to the ground, books falling out her hands and wand cluttering away.

"I'm sorry." Heather mumbled, rubbing her head as she stood up with the help of who she collided with. "Oh—hi Oliver." She happily greeted the Quidditch Captain, who smiled at her. Heather's good mood began climbing a ladder and committed suicide when she laid her blue eyes on Harry Potter and she let go of Oliver's arm, collecting her stuff. She noticed Harry held her wand. "Potter." She growled, venom dripping off that one word. "I'd like my wand back."

"Lupin." Harry growled right back, equally as venomous. He had thrusted her wand into her hand and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Meet us at the Quidditch Pitch in ten Heather, don't be late." Oliver said to Heather, who nodded, then remembered something.

"Can't, I have detention with Snape." She shrugged, knowing fully well that she was late by now, but she didn't care. She liked making Snape angry and this year, he couldn't do anything to her because her father was here. Well, he did give her detention, but that was about it, hopefully.

"What did you do this time?" Harry asked, raising a brow at Heather, who narrowed her blue eyes into deadly slits before she threw a curtain of pink hair behind her shoulder.

"Not that it's any of your business Potter," She began, starting to walk away from the two Gryffindors. "But I accidentally blew up my potion and Goyle's after class. If you didn't dash out there like the goddamn hero you aren't, you would've noticed."

She heard Harry throw a smart remark back at her but she was already sprinting away and when she entered the Potions class, face matching her hair from all the running and sprinting, Professor Snape had glared at her and emotionlessly said, "Lupin, you're la—"

Heather had rolled her eyes. "Late, yeah, yeah, I know. Can we get this started now?" Snape once again glared at her.

"A point from Gryffindor, f—"

"For my cheek, yeah yeah." She sighed, sinking down in her seat. "And another point from Gryffindor for my extra cheek, yeah. I get it."

✦

            "Toss me the knife, would you Percy?"

It was dinner by now, and the question came from Heather, who had been trying to tear through her piece of (dead) meat but had no luck at all. She then had noticed that Percy and Harry were the ones sitting close to the knives, but of course, she'd never ask Harry. He'd toss it right between her eyes, happily even. Percy had eyed her weird and handed her the knife, like a normal person and not a maniac killer. Heather snatched the knife from his hands.

"I said toss, I would've caught it." Heather grumbled and Percy said something, though Heather couldn't hear him with the amount of food in his mouth. "Listen, I know I might be a pig, but I really didn't take you for one Percy. I thought you were, like the twins would say, perfect Percy."

Percy snorted at this and rolled his eyes at the thirteen year old. "Sod off Heather." He said and Heather smiled at him before she stabbed her meat, trying not to be violent. However, the meat was not cooperating at all.

"You might take someone's eye out." Hermione Granger argued with the pink haired girl, who sighed and pushed her plate towards Hermione, who raised a brow at her.

"If I might take someone's eye out, do it for me then." She saw Hermione mumble something under her breath before she cut through Heather's meat, easily. "Thank you Hergranger," She beamed when she saw Hermione glare at her. Hermione hated the nickname Heather picked out for her, and it wasn't hard seeing why. "You're my superhero."

"I feel special." Hermione sarcastically said, going back to her own dish and left the Lupin girl to do what she was doing at the moment, and that was pushing her meat in Percy's face. The Weasley had playfully slapped it away and it had landed on the floor, and he immediately apologized to Heather, who now watched as Mrs Norris sniffed the piece of meat before beginning to munch on it.

"Do my Potions essay and we'll be even." Heather said, smirking at Percy, who sighed as he began thinking about his chances. "I swear I won't loose any points for Gryffindor after that." She added. "For about a day, least I can do."

Percy grumbled something under his breath. "Fine."

"Thank you Percley." She beamed at the older boy, who shook his head but let a smile wash over his face as he pressed his palm against Heather's, for she demanded a high five for her victory.