Hollywood Endings
If you think this is some happy fairytale where the ugly Slytherin girl becomes the sweetheart and desire of just about everyone in the story by the last paragraph--well, you've watched "She's All That" one time too many. That shit never happens in real life and we all know it. I couldn't tell you why they make films out of such drivel.
No, I did not become the darling of Hogwarts my seventh year. No one made me over, and no one apologized for overlooking me all those years. There is no poptastic soundtrack, no celebrity cameos--unless you count Potter, although he was never of any concern to me before I started fucking his girlfriend--and there are no sweet touching love scenes. There is no coming together of opposing groups.
This is not West Side Story. No one feels pretty, oh so pretty and there aren't any cute dance numbers.
No one dies tragically, unless you count Voldemort, who also wasn't of much concern to me before his death brought about that stupid ball. Yup, the ball where we got caught in the broom closet. You've no grasp of the term "coming out of the closet" until you have fallen out of one because your back was pressed up against the door-- and someone opens it. Nevermind that it's the brother of the girl whose hand is up your skirt. Nevermind that you can't do much other than laugh at the redness of his face. Nevermind that your stomach hurts because you just know this is the end.
You start to really get the terminology at that point, though. See also: Scandalous. See also: Uproar. See also: Denial.
Have you ever personally witnessed and "uproar"? It's funnier than it sounds. No, really. People get worked up to a lather over such silly things--me stealing Potter's girlfriend and Ron's sister and converting her, for example. Oh, please. You like pussy, you like pussy. I didn't force anyone to do anything.
Anyway, if you think she stood by me and everyone accepted us after tears and heartfelt speeches...well. Once again, my friend, drop the Freddie Prinze Jr. movie and back away. Stupid muggle films. The shitstorm that followed the closet incident was anything but pretty. And if you think we perservered and moved to a little flat in London after she graduated and lived on in dykey bliss...well you're just wrong. That, also, is a lie told to us by books and movies. Very rarely does the confused little straight girl drop everything to declare how fully devoted she is to the lesbian outcast she was just caught giving multiple orgasms to in a closet.
Make a movie out of that, and people would get pissed. It wouldn't make any money and critics would slam it into the ground. But...maybe then maybe the next girl like me won't have such high expectations...right?