New Place (Open) (Mature Audiences Only)

Of course. She would be the one with the dead parents who had to live with the crazy Aunt that didn't know about her all the way. She would be the one who had to fly all the way a crossed the ocean to live with the one she hardly knew. She was nearly an adult and didn't understand why the fuck she had to do what the law said. In wizarding law, one was an adult at the age of 17. She had about nine months until then. Fuck.

She was sent to a British school. Which was cool. All of her friends were jealous, but she missed her old shitty life. Yeah, it was shitty, but it was better than this ass hole of a place. Here, one had to be sorted into a house. Ridiculous. She told the sorting hat, "Fuck off" when it was placed on her head and started mumbling things. It didn't take to that to kindly. But in her defense, her parents did just die. She could play that card for a while and see were that went. But knew it wouldn't last long.

This people couldn't tell her shit, and she wouldn't do shit in return. So, that's what brought Miranda to the lake. She had snuck off during the time she was supposed to be in the stupid Divination class, and went to the near by village and bought some butter beer. That shit, was the shit. If her mom had taught her one thing, it was butter beer. She looked at the bottle, and gulped it down. She didn't care about anything at the moment, and she knew that nobody cared about her in that moment either. So it was a win win situation.

Aoife liked and disliked fifth-year. There were OWLs coming up and teachers and Ravenclaws wouldn't shut up about them. It wasn't like they mattered. They were just exams. And surely the NEWTs were the important ones, if any. It wasn't like she'd ever need them. But other people disagreed. On the other hand, OWL year meant the occasional free period for "studying". Which she usually spent climbing trees and hiding underneath tables in the common room and laying on the grass cloudwatching. On this particular day she was wandering down to the lake because she had nothing better to do, and she always met interesting people at the lake, as a rule.

There was only one girl there when she arrived, but she was probably interesting, whoever it was. And she didn't want to be alone when she could have the company of an interesting person. So she plastered a grin on her face and skipped over to the girl. "Have you got any more butterbeer?" It was only because she kept forgetting to buy her own. Usually she wouldn't be quite so forward and blunt. Okay, maybe she would. But butterbeer was butterbeer. And butterbeer was the BEST.

And then she realised that this girl was completely unfamiliar. Aoife hadn't talked to most students at Hogwarts but she tended to recognise faces when she saw them, in the corridors and library and wherever. So that meant she had either been hiding away and very rarely going anywhere or she was new. And she definitely wasn't a first-year. "Hello, I'm Aoife!" she introduced, beaming happily. "Who are you? And are you real, or a hologram, or a new student?" Straight to the point, like usual.

She was enjoying a swig of butter beer, and this annoying child came up to her. She was trying to look not presentable. Was she doing the exact opposite? She had on her mother's purple cloak, and a pair of sweats. Fuck the uniform. She was better the uniform. If she got caught, she gave zero fucks. She looked at the red headed ginger child that was probably crawling with ginger diseases still not curable. Was this kid on drugs? She asked if she was a hologram. Miranda replied, "Yes, and you're a ginger bread cookie." Miranda hoped she got the ginger reference. If not, this child was an idiot. Miranda took another swig of butter beer. This was supposed to be a perfect day of relaxing, and this child like thing was ruining her fun.

But she wasn't going to move. This was her spot, and she was here first. She wasn't going to move no matter what the ginger child said. Miranda then said, "Yes, I'm a new student. Why do you want to know?" Miranda was sure to make her American accent show proudly. She was tired of listening to these British people all day. It seemed cool in the movies she had watched with her dad, but now, she just got head aches from talking to them all day, and listening to classes. And what pissed her the fuck off even more, they all claimed to understand what she was going through, when probably nobody really did. Nobody understood, and nobody ever will. She said in answer to her butter beer question, "Nope, sorry Ginger-kid, this is my only one."

She took one last swig and hoped she was either to stupid to notice the six pack behind her, or was getting the hint that she just wanted to be left alone. Miranda didn't care either way.

For the first time in a while, Hunter woke up in a relatively decent mood - or at least, with the feeling that the day might not completely make him want to punch every person that he came across in the face. Every day was bad - that never changed. But sometimes, they were more tolerable than others. So, Hunter decided to take advantage of the day and grabbed a few bottles of butterbeer before heading down toward the lake. Normally, he retreated to his tree by the water when he couldn't handle the castle anymore and needed some space. But today, with any luck, he might actually be able to enjoy the day a bit.

Hunter tucked the bottles into his bookbag, along with one of his advanced potions books, and took off for the grounds. But, surprisingly, when he neared his spot, there were already people there - or at least, nearby enough to be distracting. Aoife's hair gave her away from a distance, but the girl that she was with was harder to distinguish. Hunter furrowed his brow in confusion and headed in their direction - who would Aoife be talking to that he didn't recognize. Oh. It was that girl that he'd seen in DADA, that he'd pegged as a transfer.

He reached them just as the unfamiliar girl was asking Aoife why she wanted to know if she was new. "Because you foreigners are pretty much taking over the school this year," Hunter interrupted, coming to stand beside Aoife. "Though American accents are definitely the strangest. Dutch accents are the best - with Irish in a close second." He gave the redhead a half-smile, but let it fall when he turned his eyes on the new girl as he scrutinized her. She was probably his age. Who knew what house. When she said she didn't have anymore butterbeer, Hunter rolled his eyes and reached over his shoulder to grab a bottle from his own bag, handing it over to Aoife. "I always come prepared," he said sarcastically. "I'm Hunter," he said to the new girl.

For a moment, Aoife had thought that this girl was cool, that she was spontaneous and kooky judging by her uniform, but she wasn't. She was mean. Not only mean, she was GINGERPHOBIC. And she didn't put up with gingerphobics. "I think you should shut up now," she scowled. "Since clearly you discriminate against people who don't have BORING hair colours like you." She was proud of how calm she was being. It was good. She was controlling her anger, being a better person! "I just wanted to know who you were and you had to viciously attack me with words!"

"And I wanted to know because I was curious, since you obviously aren't one of us cool Hogwarts students." America, huh? She didn't like the sound of America much. It was big, and complicated, and she didn't think there were as many fields to frolick in as there were in Ireland. And if all Americans were as stupid and gingerphobic as this one, she had no respect for that country. "Fine," she said grumpily. "I wouldn't want to accept food off you anyway." It might be poisoned.

Usually she wasn't overwhelmed with joy when Hunter turned up, as he constantly did, but this time she was glad. He brought a funny remark and butterbeer. "Irish is SO MUCH BETTER," she insisted. "But I don't want to have this argument again." Aoife smiled and took the bottle of butterbeer. "Good! I like you much better than HER. I mean, she's so gingerphobic!"

Now the ginger freak had a sidekick. Fucking great. Miranda was tempted to give them the finger and go some where else, but she was here first. This was her fucking territory, so fuck them. The ginger child started arguing back at her. She could win in this argument. And now they were insulting her country. Shit just got real.

She stood up and said, "Maybe, the reason they are bringing in transfers, is to show you Britts how to do magic. Because, obviously, we are better! Secondly, I'd rather have boring hair then be crawling with who knows what kind of diseases you have." She turned to Hunter, and said, "And fourthly, fuck you."

She sat back down to prove a point that she wasn't leaving, so they might as well leave her be. Miranda wasn't taking this shit from anyone. And if they insulted her country, it was too far. She then added, "It's not like I had a fucking choice to be here anyways." Maybe that would make them feel sorry for her, and they would leave her alone. That was all she wanted, just some piece and quiet. And they had to ruin it for her.

"You can think that," Hunter replied to Aoife, who was still under the misconception that her accent was better than his. He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised that she'd said she liked him out loud for the second time in her life, and even more surprised that she'd said it in front of another person. "Wow. That must make her pretty bad then, if even I'm better than her," he said sarcastically. "Anyway, you only like me when there's something in it for you." That something was normally butterbeer, but occasionally consisted of other things.

Alright, apparently, this girl hadn't gotten the memo that Hunter's decent moods were a rare thing nowadays, because she didn't seem the slightest bit appreciative of the fact that he didn't flip her off for being in his typical spot. What the hell was she even going on about? "I'm not a brit," Hunter retorted simply, crossing his arms and staring defiantly back at the girl. Brits were from Britain. Hunter was from Netherlands. "I'm Dutch. Honestly, are all Americans as daft as you? I knew where you were from without having to ask." Clearly he wasn't British.

His face darkened slightly, whatever was left of his tolerance for this girl disappearing when she insulted Aoife - and her hair. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he asked. "She's better looking than you. Not that it's saying much," Hunter added, though it wasn't necessarily the best insult because the other girl wasn't bad looking, in all fairness. But she didn't need to know that he thought that. And if she was going to be so childish as to insult Aoife's appearance, she could only expect the same back. He raised an eyebrow at the girl's next words, directed at him, and a humorless smirk played onto his face. "You wish." He ignored her when she said she didn't have a choice. "Do you have a name?"

Aoife shrugged. It was true. There wasn't any point denying why she liked him on and off sometimes. "Yeah, really bad." She really didn't like gingerphobics. "On a scale of Aylee to Seren, you're about half way and SHE is almost at Seren." That was saying a lot, to be almost as bad as the person she disliked most in the world. She made a bad attempt at a wink and took a swig of the butterbeer, for the sake of proving his point.

And then she returned her attention to the girl, who was still being stupid. British? That was one of the biggest insults she'd ever heard. "I'm IRISH, and everyone knows Irish people are the best witches and wizards." At least, they were the best quidditch players, from the Ballycastle Bats magazines she'd been reading.

She laughed. Because it was just funny now. Diseases? Because she was ginger? People with boring hair were much more likely to have diseases and be evil demons. Just look at this girl. Aoife wasn't going to bother retaliating, but Hunter had that down anyway. Yeah! She was much more attractive than the American! The next thing Hunter said didn't even make sense. He was so bad at comebacks. Or maybe it was just one of those stupid teenage comebacks that she didn't understand, or didn't want to understand.

Miranda breathed in and out. These children were driving her insane. But, she wasn't in the mood to make this fight go fucking further. So, she decided to be the fucking bigger person. She said, "I can't believe I'm saying this. But, I'm sorry I insulted you're hair, even if it is full of diseases. I am not daft, I've just had a rough day, and honestly probably couldn't tell the difference between a sheep or a goat. Can we please pretend this never happened? Oh, and it's cute that you think she's better looking than me. I'm Miranda by the way."

She rolled her eyes, offering her apologies and sat down at the tree. She wasn't in the mood for this shit. And she didn't care if they were Chinese. She sat down and opened up another butterbeer. This was how she was spending her day, and she didn't care if they liked it or not.