Is This the Devil Having Fun? || MARLENE

"Let me go you sodding git!"

"Or you'll what? What'll you do you fucking faggot freak?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Screams ricocheted against the cold, stone walls of the dungeons, echoing throughout the underground darkness. Despite the abundant amount of Slytherins that inhabited this dank, deep place, Waverly had always found a certain amount of solace in it. It was by far, the most peaceful of walks when she was on her way to potions class. There was something comforting about its labryinthine corridors and the cold chill that filled the air. Waverly wasn't unaccustomed to traversing its shadowy paths when she couldn't sleep and knew all those bothersome Slytherins would be tucked away in bed. If it weren't for the infestation of privileged, prejudiced prats with over-inflated egos, she'd probably come down here more often than she did.

Tonight though, she hadn't come down to the dungeons for a dose of tranquility. She'd come here strictly on business. Waverly really wasn't the revenge type, but when pushed around enough, she could have quite the relentless temper. It was easy to write her off as that loner, Hufflepuff girl, but Waverly was a lot more than that. In fact, she was a powerful force to be reckoned with. More than people even knew.

A few days prior, Waverly had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hufflepuffs with Slytherin. As could be anticipated, neither houses particularly enjoyed being in such close proximity together. Especially considering the subject in question and the professor who taught it. There was always a blood-purity undertone to everything Professor Riddle said, no matter how impartial he thought he appeared. At least, that was how Waverly felt. Every word that dripped from his lips was poisonous, and those ignorant Slytherins just licked it up like honey. It was almost torture having to listen to his rubbish. During that class period, some stupid Slytherin had made a snide comment about muggle-borns, and chaos ensued. Almost immediately, Waverly had stood up to that git, not much caring if Riddle was standing right there, listening to her every word about blood-equality. If there was one thing Waverly couldn't stand, it was pure-bloods thinking muggle-borns and half-bloods were in some way beneath them. Pure-blood propaganda if she ever heard it. Hexes had been flung and points deducted from both houses. How could people be so hateful? That was something Waverly asked herself over and over.

Still riled up from the outbreak, Waverly sneaked out of her dormitory, determined to send those idiots a message. She'd show them just how tenacious Hufflepuffs could be. Spray paint in hand, she stood before a stone wall that was the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Without hesitation, she shook the bottle and sprayed her message on walls: SUCK IT. Short. Simple. Straight-forward. It wasn't the most original message, Waverly was aware. But it got the point across. She lingered there for a moment, savoring her quiet victory. Right when she was about to leave though, she felt something hit her hard on the head, and she was brought to her knees.

Before her stood a group of Slytherins. Three boys. One girl. She recognized none of them, but knew she was in trouble now. Bollocks. She'd flung a blasting curse at the lot of them, but even with her sharp wit and deftness with a wand, she knew she couldn't take them all. Eventually, the girl, who was the eldest of the four Slytherins, restrained her with a charm conjuring invisible ropes, and Waverly was resigned to laying on the ground.

"We hurting you yet, freak?"

"Not yet. Kind of tickles." Waverly bared her teeth, struggling against the invisible constraints. How brave. Four Slytherins against one. Truly admirable.

Just another day in the life of "fucking faggot freak" Waverly Cassel.