Disclaimer: I only own Cynthia and Matthew. All other characters belong to Jo Rowling

Warning: Language

Quail Eggs

Cynthia Higgs wasn't Scorpius Malfoy's first choice for the Yule Ball, and everyone knew it. His first choice was some Hufflepuff named Claire. Yes, Hufflepuff. If he were anyone else, Cynthia would have ended her friendship with him for even considering such a thing. But he wasn't anyone else: he was Scorpius, and Cynthia would always make an exception for Scorpius.

Good men were hard to find these days: at least, good men who shared her values and her class upbringing. Long gone were the glory days of Slytherin: most of the boys in her House more closely resembled trolls than men. They were constantly making crass jokes, never tucked their shirttails in, and could barely scrape together one E amongst the lot of them. Still, they were better than the stuck-up prats in Ravenclaw or the Gryffindor goody-goodies.

The Hufflepuffs didn't even come into the equation.

At any rate, Scorpius was by far the best boy in the entire school, so Cynthia was willing to forgive him his flaws. She was also willing to do whatever it took to win his heart. They'd been friends since the beginning of school, and she'd been in love with him nearly the entire time. The trouble was, he only saw her as somebody to chat with occasionally in the Common Room. And there was no question of him just possibly being shy and hiding his feelings for her: if there was one thing Scorpius was known for, it was his romantic tendencies. He had what Cynthia's grandmother called "an old soul." When Scorpius fell for a girl, he fell deeply and madly. Everyone could tell immediately, and Scorpius would make his feelings very clear to the girl. There were no furtive glances across the classroom or sketchy after-hours make-outs with Scorpius Malfoy: if he wanted you, he would court you and make you feel like the most precious person alive.

Cynthia had watched him moon over and ask out countless other girls (well, it seemed like countless, but it was probably closer to five). She had seen him obsess, gaze up at the sky and write beautiful poems that would have been ridiculous coming from anyone else. She had also seen him fall out of love faster than anyone would think possibly. He would woo a girl, take her to Hogsmeade, date her for a month or two, and then lose interest. At first her Housemates had speculated that he put on the romantic act for as long as it took the girl to drop her knickers, then he split once he got what he wanted. But one of his more promiscuous short-term girlfriends had confessed that even though she had tried to push him into it, they had never gone further than kissing. Indeed it seemed that Scorpius had never even passed first base.

Knowing him for as long as she had, Cynthia was certain she knew the answer. Scorpius always fell for the same type: sweet, seemingly innocent, kind girls. He idealized them in his mind, only to feel disappointed when he got to really know them and the reality fell short of his expectations. One day he was going to wake up and realize he was wasting his time on those silly, vapid girls and see Cynthia standing there.

When he'd asked her to the Ball, she'd thought that day had finally come, even though he had added the caveat that it was only as friends. She knew he'd been planning on asking Claire the Stupid Hufflepuff and her heart had soared at the thought that he'd chosen her instead. Her happiness had only lasted an ethereal trip up to the dormitory, where she'd flounced in to discover her roommates gossiping about Albus Potter asking Claire the Stupid Hufflepuff to the Ball, and how he must have done so because he knew Scorpius was over the moon about her.

Yes, that had effectively killed Cynthia's dream.

Regardless, she was determined to have fun tonight. More importantly, she was determined that Scorpius had fun tonight. And she would ensure that by using her greatest talent: plotting revenge.

Her cool gaze settled on Al Potter. He was sitting across the Hall with Claire, both of them seeming more engaged in their food than each other. Yes, he had clearly made this move not because he was interested in Claire, but as a challenge to Scorpius. For what purpose, Cynthia wasn't sure, but one could never be certain with Al. He was the first member of the Weasley clan in generations to be sorted into Slytherin, and no one knew quite why. He didn't get along with his Housemates, he always supported whatever team Slytherin was playing against, and he never sat at their table except when forced to for special events like Halloween. Unlike his Gryffindor relatives (particularly his brother James), he wasn't aggressively against Slytherin, but he was incredibly anti-social within his House. Admittedly he wasn't particularly social outside of Slytherin, but he was definitely less frosty.

It was a bit odd that he'd chosen to egg Scorpius on like this. Al usually never provoked a fight and although they certainly weren't friends, Scorpius was probably the least hostile of all their year-mates towards Al. At least, Cynthia thought as she glanced over at her fuming date, he used to be.

Well, Cynthia didn't understand why Al did half of the things he did, but he certainly always had an agenda. He'd aggravated Scorpius on purpose, perhaps hoping for some sort of confrontation that he could use to his own advantage. But he hadn't counted on Cynthia's involvement. Her lips curled into a smile. If it was war Potter wanted it was war he would get.

She and Scorpius were seated in some chairs that were lined up against the wall: he'd shared a few obligatory dances with her before suggesting they rest their feet. That had been over five songs ago and Cynthia's feet were more than well-rested, but Scorpius was still glaring over at Al, as slumped as his perfect posture would allow him to be. Occasionally his eyes would flit over to Claire and a touch of longing would appear in those soft brown orbs, but he was completely oblivious to everything else going on about him. Which left Cynthia plenty of time to scheme.

Direct vengeance was not a good plan. Somehow in the past four and a half years, Al had gotten to know the castle better than anyone else in Slytherin house. He would sleep in half an hour later than everyone else and arrive five minutes earlier. Scorpius told her that he would sneak out in the middle of the night and never be caught. If anyone stole anything of his, he would get it back immediately and the thief would find one of their own possessions missing. He knew about exam dates and pop quizzes before any one else, and on the few days when their teachers cancelled lessons at the last minute, he didn't bother showing up. Derek Midgeon had suggested clairvoyance, but he was just as hopeless at Divination as the rest of them. Cynthia guessed that he was just extremely resourceful and well connected – as a blood-traitor stuck in a Pureblood house would have to be.

No, she would have to strike the next blow indirectly. It was a bit tricky, because Al really had no friends at all. He didn't care about Claire; he was just using her to get to Scorpius. The only hint of vulnerability Al had was his family.

Cynthia's lip curled. The Weasleys. They were the worst part of Hogwarts. She hated that she'd come to school in a time when they were so abundant. Every single one of them was intolerable, including the Potters, who everyone counted as Weasleys. Her scowl probably matched Scorpius as she saw James Potter and Fred Weasley dancing like idiots in the middle of the Hall. They somehow managed to class down every event and special occasion they attended. They were probably more closely related to orangutans than wizards, judging from their manner of eating, their uncouth mouths and their need to turn everything into a physical confrontation. There was a common joke in Slytherin that if you ever got into a duel with a Weasley, don't bother trying to disarm them: they were never going to use their wands anyway. And yet, in spite of their lack of any distinguishable quality, they walked around as if they owned the school simply because they had a few famous relatives.

Yes, the whole family needed to be brought down a peg…or twelve. The question was, who to choose as her target?

The nearest one was Louis Weasley, who was standing with a group of friends he had apparently gone stag with. She watched as one of them was pushed out of the circle toward a nearby group of girls and, to the apparent amusement of his friends, nervously led one of them off to dance. It all seemed rather pathetic to Cynthia, so she turned away. If she picked Louis she was more likely to draw the wrath of his friends than Al, and he was a fourth-year. No, there were bigger fish.

Such as Fred and James. They were still in the middle of the dance floor, whirling their dates around in circles, throwing them at each other, laughing like they were the kings of the school. Oh, Cynthia had hated them ever since Fred sent a gaggle of decoy detonators into the Slytherin Common room in her second year, their explosions causing her to jump in fright and spill ink all over the essay she'd been working on all weekend. But Fred and James were too powerful, too influential. If she messed with them, she was liable to wake up one morning on top of the Astronomy tower, with the door permanently locked behind her. Besides, Al wouldn't particularly care if something happened to Fred and James, or any of his male relatives for that matter. It would have to be a girl, preferably one he was close to.

Her eyes slid to Dom, Louis's older sister. Dom. She had about as much class as a streetwalker, and yet she managed to snag a date with Alan Patrick, the Head Boy. Men were so enchanted by her looks they didn't seem to realize she was just a stupid, crass, conniving slag. She was always off with one boy or another and was almost like a bloke the way she'd sleep with them and dump them. Her two roommates followed her around like little minions, hoping to catch her castoffs as she threw them into the gutter. She acted like she was the best thing that had happened to Quidditch since Viktor Krum and was constantly talking about what professional team she was going to play for, yet in the last game she'd fallen off her broom in the first five minutes. She must be pretty strong, though, Cynthia thought wryly, to lift her enormous head out of bead in the morning.

Dom would definitely deserve whatever Cynthia dished out and Scorpius wouldn't fault her. It would draw Al's attention and make him realize that he couldn't just challenge Scorpius like this without serious consequences. And Cynthia would enjoy doing it. She hated Dom. Hated her.

But she wasn't the one Cynthia hated the most.

At long last, Cynthia's gaze settled on Rose, who was dancing with her date. She hadn't been sure it was possible to truly loathe every essence of someone's being until she met Rose. From the very first class she'd hated everything about her: the way she never raised her hand and just blurted out the answer, her stupid wild hair that looked like it had never had a comb dragged through it, and the way that she'd argue with teachers like they couldn't possibly be experts on subjects they'd been teaching for years, and then never admit she was wrong once they proved themselves. She seemed to be naturally gifted at just about all her subjects and would float through most of them with ease and little studying. Rose had become especially unbearable this year, now that they were both Prefects and had to spend an increasing amount of time around each other. She was constantly getting ahead of herself and offering suggestions to the Heads like they were equals, sometimes giving orders to the other Prefects. Worse still, she acted as though she'd already been pre-selected to be Head Girl and no one else had even the slightest chance of competing against her. Cynthia had been waiting all year for the chance to put Rose in her place.

And Scorpius would definitely appreciate it. He was the only one who could ever beat Rose in anything, and would occasionally rub it in her face ever so slightly when he did better on written assignments and tests than she did. In Cynthia's opinion he ought to do it more. Unlike Rose, Scorpius worked extremely hard and earned everything he got. He was always studying so hard, putting in the extra time despite being a Prefect and a Chaser for their House team. Cynthia looked over at Scorpius longingly, her heart aching. It really wasn't fair that he hurt like this. She steeled her resolve and stood up.

"I'm going to the buffet, do you want anything?" She asked him, knowing that he was too depressed to eat and feeling a little twinge of elation when he shook his head slightly. Oh, she knew him so well, if only he would see it. He will soon enough, she told herself as she marched over to the buffet table.

Her goal was not, in fact, to grab food, but to get closer in proximity to Rose. She was dancing near the edge, not too far in to be inaccessible, but distracted enough to be an easy target. Her date was Mathew Jacoby, her fellow Gryffindor Prefect. They'd seemed very friendly with each other during Prefect meetings and maybe, like Cynthia, Rose was hoping something more than friendship would emerge from this Ball.

If that was the case, then Rose was out of luck.

Cynthia eyed her target through a glass swan sculpture. Rose had certainly put some effort into looking nice tonight. She was well kempt for once – there were certainly no signs of grass stains on her billowy blue robes. She actually looked as if she'd put on makeup and even her hair was somewhat contained, piled and twisted on top of her head. It was still rather voluminous and could possibly have several small animals nesting in it with no one the wiser.

That was it.

Fixing a sweet smile on her face, Cynthia waved over the nearest House-Elf and gestured to the pile of Quail eggs on the Buffett. "Excuse me, are these fresh eggs?"

"Sorry, miss?" The House-Elf squeaked, her hands nervously smoothing her little smock.

"Are they fresh?" Cynthia repeated, trying to keep her annoyance about House-Elf stupidity contained. "Or are they pre-cooked and packaged?"

The House-Elf seemed to register what she was asking and her face practically shone with indignation. "No, no, miss, they are most certainly fresh! We take pride in our work and only serve the best quality of food!"

"Oh, I wasn't trying to offend you." Cynthia lied – for indeed, offending the House-Elf and getting her too worked up to think straight had been part of the plan. "It's just that scrambled Quail egg is one of my absolute favorite meals." She laid on the sugary charm. "I have it at home all the time, but you never seem to fix it here. But apparently you have Quail Eggs, so I figured they must be pre-cooked."

"No, completely fresh!" The House-Elf twisted her hands together. "I've never heard of scrambled Quail egg, but if miss would like them for breakfast we can certainly do that for her!"

"It wouldn't be too much trouble?" Cynthia pressed, pretending to be concerned. "You wouldn't have to order any extra?"

"We have plenty left over from the Feast, it is no trouble at all!" The House-Elf looked up at her with a crooked smile. "We would be most happy to cook scrambled Quail egg for miss every day if that would make her happy!"

"Oh, no, just tomorrow morning would be fine." Assured Cynthia hurriedly, who had indeed never had scrambled Quail egg and figured she did not want to eat it every morning for the rest of school. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it."

The House-Elf looked on the verge of crying from happiness and bounced away. Cynthia waited a moment before casually making her way over to the nearest window and cracked it. Fortunately there seemed to be a charm keeping the cold at bay because she stayed warm.

"Accio raw Quail eggs." She whispered, sticking her wand out the window. It was a relatively new spell for her and she hoped she hadn't put too much power behind it – the last thing she wanted was for a slew of raw eggs to come zooming out of nowhere at her.

She must have preformed it perfectly, for within a few minutes five little eggs tamely floated through the window and into her outstretched hand. Cynthia concealed them in her palms and shut the window. She then headed back to her previous position by the swan and waited until Rose made her way near.

Piling the eggs into one hand, she pointed her wand at them at mumbled, "Wingardium Leviosa!" Very carefully, her heart pounding at the notion of being caught in the act, she guided the eggs toward Rose, who had stopped to catch her breath, her back turned to Cynthia…

They buried themselves in her hair and when Cynthia dropped the spell, she was pleased to discover that they had stayed put and Rose didn't seem to notice. She then quickly made her escape from the scene of the crime and plopped down innocently next to Scorpius.

"What have you been up to?" He asked her suspiciously, taking in her out of breath state and crooked grin. Cynthia's heart swelled once more. He knew her just as well as she knew him.

"Oh, just grabbed a few Quail eggs." She replied, winking at him conspiratorially. He would know in a minute, once one of them fell out, or Rose went to pat her hair-

A shrill shriek drew everyone's attention and Cynthia saw several people back up as Rose frantically dug through her hair. She looked away quickly and watched Scorpius taking in the scene before looking back at her with an amused grin.

"What did you do?"

Cynthia didn't have time to respond, for Rose was making a beeline over to them. She looked demented, her face red as her hair, which was half hanging down and had cracked eggshells nestled in it. Her finger was outstretched, pointing toward Cynthia like a compass. "You!" She bellowed, frightening several nearby Hufflepuffs.

"Yes?" Cynthia replied innocently, hoping that the scene wouldn't attract any teachers.

"Don't give me that, Matt saw you lurking behind the ice sculpture!" Rose screeched. "You put the eggs in my hair, I know you did! What the hell were you playing at?"

To Cynthia's absolute delight, Scorpius replied before she had the chance: "Perhaps she mistook your hair for a nest."

Rose's face went even redder if possible and she rounded on Scorpius. "Oh you think it's funny, Malfoy? You think you're awfully clever, don't you?"

"Cleverer than you, that's for sure."

She let out an out-of-control laugh. "Beating me on a few tests does not make you cleverer than me! It just makes you a boring swot who does nothing but study."

"The only reason you don't study is because you know you're not actually the smartest person in our year." Countered Scorpius. "If you don't actually try, you can just pretend you're not the best because you didn't feel like studying."

Rose's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Is that a challenge?"

"No, it's a fact." Scorpius taunted. "You couldn't beat me on a written exam if you tried."

She glared at him for a moment before turning on her heel and walking straight out of the Hall, probably to wash her hair. Cynthia watched her go, then looked back at Scorpius, who had stood up and was holding his hand out to her.

"My feet are definitely rested up," He told her with a wide grin. "Let's dance!"

AN: Just a fun one-shot from fifth year I've had in my head for a while. Cynthia will show up in Pawn as Scorpius's school friend who Rose does not get along with. This fic came out of a fun little bit of banter I imagined for Rose and Scorpius ("I never understood why you two couldn't just get along." "She put eggsin my hair!" "Are you sure she didn't just mistake your hair for a nest?"). I'll include a version of that in Chapter 3 of Pawn, which should be out sometime next week.

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