Like a Slap in the Face

Oliver Wood is an insufferable good-for-nothing twit.
All he does is swagger around, flaunting his Quiddich title and show off his godly good-looks. Wood is the sort of person who is bloody gorgeous and knows it. He isn't afraid to show it off either. And boy does he make an effort of strutting around, sending his petty fan girls winks. He can't keep his self-obsorbed, nosy attitude to himself, either. And the toerag can go die in a hole full of nagging, strict Percy Weasleys and sharp basilisk fangs for all I care.
But don't get me wrong, I love the guy.

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10. Four Eyes

"Delly. Move your arse."

I looked at the tall boy beneath me and grinned.

"I don't believe I will."

Now, any smart person wouldn't argue with me. Because let's face it; I'm stubborn. And if there is one thing I hate, it's people telling me what to do.

Too bad Oliver isn't smart.

Being the pooh he is, my friend shoved me off him. And onto the ground. Ow.

"Fine. My presence isn't wanted." Dang I am sassy. So, with my sassy-sway-strut, I left that low life and went to my dormitory. Now Aeron appreciates my presence.

"Ooh kittyy!" I sung, skipping into my room.

Freeze! Now let me tell you now, I was expecting to see my baby curled up on my bed, purring away with her cute little vocal chords or whatever. But that's not exactly what I saw. 
Smaller than me Rosa was huddled on her bed, sobbing her heart out. "Rosa?" Startled, she looked up, tears streaked down her face.

"S-sorry!" She stuttered, attempting to get off the bed. "I'll just–" her leg tangled in one of the blankets, causing he to fall off the bed. My eyes wandered around the room, stopping at a pair of broken glasses. "No, no! Are those yours?" I pointed to the glasses with a frown. What was wrong?

She sat up, ashamed. "Yes..." I walked the other side of the room and picked up the broken glasses, muttering a repair spell.

I gave her the now-fixed glasses and smiled. "That's better. Now, tell me what happened." I sat on the bed next to hers, that just so happened to be mine, and smiled.

"I really don't want to talk about it..."

"Then how is it going to get better. If you tell me what's wrong, I can help you fix the problem."

"That's the thing...I'm the problem. Just like everyone says; I'm a four-eyed freak."

Okay everyone. Now is the time to introduce one of my largest peeves; people thinking they aren't worth anything. But one thing that makes me even angrier is when people make someone feel like they aren't worth anything. If you aren't meant to be here, why are you?

"Who told you that?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice as quiet as possible. Rosa looked at her bed.

"Nobody."

"Who?"

"Nobod-"

"Who?"

"No-"

"WHO?"

"Fine!" Rosa sighed, giving into my expert persuasion methods. "Marcus Flint..."

Fudge...why does everything come back to him?

 

A/N

Hello everybody! This is really IMPORTANT! I have decided to let my fans decide where the story goes. I'm considering finding a beta...but anyway, you can email me any ideas you have about this story at andreariddle@hotmail.com Also, if you are interested in being my beta, you can email a Delly/anyone oneshot! I feel like she's just not getting enough love...you can email me the oneshots, entries are due by January 27th!

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