It's unexpected, and she loves it.

Maybe schemers and dreamers didn't work out.

It was such a cliche, and she knew that.

So maybe she's not cut out for the life of a 'bad girl'.

I still loved him, but you knew that, didn't you?

Such a cruelcruelcruel manboychild to drive her to this.

Because she was all icebluejoy eyes, shinycornsilkandsungold hair, freckles farastheeyecansee, happyhappyhappytoseeyou smile. And he finally saw it.

She settles her problems with alcohol, and sometimes razorblades.

It's like choosing between a classic novel and the newest book on the shelves. Either is great in its own way.

My day starts out as it normally does. Breakfast also proceeds as normal. Class is normal, passing time is normal, next class is normal, lunch is normal, everything is normal! Even Divination is normal! Even Luna is normal - for her! Then he appears...

An acrostic.

A poem about what should've been.

His death was her fault. She should've seen the signs, having known him for seventeen years.

Dominique Weasley was strong. She was the 'bad-ass' of the Weasley family. She could beat anyone at anything. But there was one thing that she wasn't good at: boys.

A poem.

"Tell me a story about a butterfly!" Her daughter's request for a story brought back the memory of what ended up being one of the most important days of Ginny Weasley's life, in more ways than one.

It was just another typical fight between Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They had one every day. But was this fight really one of their typical fights? Or was it something else? Originally uploaded as "The Lies We Tell Ourselves".

A poem about Lily and James.

Dominique Weasley, the middle daughter of three children, had never been a people-person.

It was the photo album she had begun almost ten years ago, in her seventh year at Hogwarts...Ten years later, and the memories of yesterday still haunted the poor girl.