Three people were sitting at a dining room table, obviously having a family discussion. The woman spoke first, shaking her head slightly, "We should have sent you to Beauxbatons. Their training is quite fine, and they keep everything neat and organized. I heard, though, that Madame Maxine is really strict."
"She is, Mom," the girl snickered, as if remembering something. "But I reckon she and a teacher were having an affair. According to Potter, the gamekeeper even wore eau de cologne!" she guffawed.
The woman looked surprised. "The filthy giant—what's-his-name—Hagrid? Having an affair with such a—well, I have to say, Maxine is well-groomed and well-bred, but she is a giant," the woman nodded.
"As long as she can keep her students in order, Beauxbatons would have been a good choice," said the man. "But you know, we were seriously considering Durmstrang. Are you listening, Scarlett?"
"Yes, Father," replied the girl—Scarlett—haughtily. "But were you honestly considering Durmstrang? It's a horrible place, apparently, and that Igor Karkaroff man was just as horrible as his school."
The woman spoke once more. "Sorry, Geoffrey, but I have to agree with Scarlett on this one—Karkaroff was absolutely horrible. He didn't have the guts to face the magical community without the Dark Lord's protection, and he believed that the Dark Lord had fallen."
"But our Marks, Linda, they're getting darker!" Geoffrey insisted. "He must be rising, or they would be getting darker."
"It's getting darker outside, too," Linda cut him off swiftly. "You'll be going off to bed quite soon, Scarlett. We'll be discussing your school options."
Scarlett whined, "I like it there at Hogwarts. And anyway, Mother, isn't it that most Death Eater's children attend Hogwarts? Like those Crabbe and Goyle blokes—their parents are Death Eaters."
Geoffrey drew in a sharp breath. "That's enough for one night," he concluded. "Scarlett—it's bed with you."
September 1st of a new quarter seemed to come too soon. Scarlett had woken up and, within the duration of breakfast, had received several 'encouraging' comments from her father, such as, "Up and at 'em, Scarlett—starting a new school year!" and "It's your fifth year, you ought to get a little smarter, don't you think?"
She managed to get through breakfast alive, and while her father had to go meet up with some men called Yaxley and Mulciber and Nott, so Scarlett's mother, Linda, was responsible for sending her to King's Cross Station.
At King's Cross, Scarlett's mother pulled an unsightly face and said, "I can't stand Muggles—I'll be off, now. You'll be fine by yourself, with that Parkinson girl, right?"
"Yes, Mother," Scarlett grinned.
"Well, I'll see you during break, then, I'll be off," Linda said again, and disappeared in the midst.
Scarlett was left standing there for a while, clutching at her trunk and owl cage.
"Scarlett!" a sickeningly familiar voice shrieked.
Deciding now was the best time, Scarlett turned around with a bright smile. "Pansy!" she shrieked in return, feeling her stomach twist. It was just the squealing and over-bright personality that Pansy possessed that made Scarlett feel sick to her stomach.
"Oh my God, my parents were almost considering transferring me to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang," Pansy continued, dropping her voice, pushing her cart along, "since they're the only wizardry schools nearby in Europe, but I convinced them not to."
"Same..." Scarlett said suspiciously.
"I bet they were plotting it together," Pansy said with unexpected venom in her voice. "Anyway, I'll see you on the other side, all right?" Pansy waited for a passing crowd and vanished.
"All right, Mrs Weasley," said another sickeningly familiar voice, and Scarlett winced.
There could only be one person who would speak that way—either Harry Potter or Hermione Granger. Now, since Scarlett was sure that over the summer Harry hadn't yet reached puberty—Potty was a mere baby, his voice couldn't possibly be so high. Or he could've been strangled.
Scarlett spun around, her dark hair whipping her face. It was only shoulder length and did that easily—the whipping her face part, that is. Quickly—and for some reason, holding her breath—Scarlett ran towards a very familiar piece of wall and closed her eyes. She came out the other side, perfectly intact, yet a little shaken.
Leaning against the wall and breathing hard, Scarlett felt curious eyes burning her. She opened hers to find Pansy observing her. "What took you so long?" she finally asked.
Scarlett told her everything and even made insulting jokes—it wasn't like Harry Potter was her favourite person. She, as a Slytherin, was proud to be one. Her parents' reputation—which was, undoubtedly, suspicious—made it easier for her, Scarlett, but didn't make it much easier for the other Death Eater's children. For instance, Maria Nott was finding it difficult to make friends.
It had been easy to avoid Maria—she clung on to you like superglue to anything. Maria, however, was a Ravenclaw, which proved to be a very difficult House to be in. Scarlett always wondered how Loony Lovegood did that, but then, her name said it all—she was Loony. That must be how she'd passed all her tests.
With her dreamy stance, it was a miracle she never crashed into a wall.
Scarlett shook herself out of all these random thoughts and proceeded to follow Pansy, who was leading her to the familiar compartment that the Slytherins would always take up.
"So what did you do over the summer?" Pansy asked.
"Other than argue with my parents about my school options," Scarlett responded airily, "nothing much. We stayed in London, and just... kind of talked. Dad had to go visit a bunch of the... the others, you know? It was kind of awkward, since they had meetings at our house and not the Malfoys. I wasn't allowed out of my room," Scarlett admitted.
"That must have been torture," Pansy agreed enthusiastically. "But I wasn't locked in much—we went to Paris!"
"Well, you can get the slack," Scarlett rolled her eyes, even though she wanted to hear about Paris, "your parents aren't... you know."
"That's true," Pansy acknowledged the fact with a small nod. "Still, I'm glad I'm not one of them. I'd rather have a clean slate, clean conscience."
Scarlett couldn't help but point out, "You're Slytherin—it doesn't make it any easier."
"Least I'll have a better status," Pansy shot back, and the girls fell into a fit of what Scarlett called pointless giggles.
The compartment door slid open, and there stood Malfoy with his fellow cronies Crabbe and Goyle.
"Don't you ever go anywhere without them?" Scarlett nodded towards his henchmen.
"They're like protection," Malfoy sneered, "the kind you don't have."
Scarlett rolled her eyes, while Goyle—or was it Crabbe?—grunted. Just then, Blaise Zabini appeared at the door, followed by a wary-looking Zacharias Smith. Scarlett widened her eyes, and then narrowed them into tiny slits. "What are you looking at, Smith?" she demanded carelessly.
He was a Hufflepuff—not much worth, but fun to tease and diss.
"He and I have a little business to sort out," Malfoy interrupted, as Smith was about to answer.
Scarlett raised an eyebrow—was it just her, or was Malfoy actually defending a non-Slytherin, someone other than himself?