Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Hidden behind Crystalline Eyes

I've always felt my beauty was something to flaunt. Perhaps without it I wouldn't be whole, or I wouldn't be a remarkable human being whatsoever. Perhaps I just like the attention. But I know most people don't really like me all that much; I'm OK with that. I know I can be belligerent. I don't want people to really know who I am. Not without a bit of effort on their end, anyway. Let them think what they want. There's always been an assumption about me that I know would never change, no matter how hard I try. Why bother trying to change someone else's opinion? It's not like he'll listen.

"It's what's on the inside that counts." That's the lie ugly girls tell themselves. If that was it, people wouldn't assume I was a high-maintenance nuisance to society. If that was it, men would want to get to know my mind, not my body. If that was it, I wouldn't have to hide behind my crystalline eyes and porcelain complexion.

My mother always told me to not let anyone know what you're thinking. I guess I've followed her advice too closely. I suppose I've always been a mysterious person. I just never knew it would end up making everyone think me cold and inconsiderate.

I suppose I've done this to myself. I'm never nice to a person unless they give me a reason to be. I don't just hand out gratitude for no reason. If you start doing that then people will expect you to always be sweet and lovely and perfect. And, really now, who likes being perfect? It's exhausting. I would know; my sister is the sweet, lovely, perfect one. And when she's not perfect, watch out. All the nasty little things it's OK to think and not say build up if you never let off any steam and all of a sudden everything will tumble out of you and you'll end up doing more damage than good.

"Just be yourself." What if being yourself means no one likes you?

You see, all these things that are supposed to make you feel good about yourself really don't. They just bring you down. All self-help strategies do is give you fake self-esteem and false self-actualization. So, inevitably, they are actually very detrimental.

But, I digress. Maybe it's better off this way. Maybe it's a blessing that I'm beautiful and mysterious. Maybe it's a good thing I don't mind when people I don't care about don't care about me. It's the people that I do care about that get to me. If I care about them, shouldn't they care about me enough to dig deeper into what I could be instead of what I am?

A.N. I've been writing this off and on for a few weeks and here it is. I know it's not very good, but I just felt like getting it out there.

Thanks for reading, and drop a line or two if you've got the time/interest.