Chapter Ten
Carolina had not spoken to Marcus in weeks. In fact, he hadn't said one word to her since the day of the Slytherin Gryffindor Quidditch match. He hadn't glared at her, looked at her, or acknowledged her existence in any way whatsoever. Their mother had met them at King's Cross so Marcus hadn't even had to apparate home with her.
Mealtimes had been particularly dull, and Carolina often excused herself early seeing as nobody attempted to engage her in any conversations. She took to serving herself as little as possible, so that she could be out of their company and back in the safety of her bedroom as quickly as her parents allowed. Then, late at night, when her stomach growled, she would return downstairs to hunt for leftovers.
She had finished all of her summer homework within the first week, and had Adrian not written to her nearly daily, she felt she would have lost her mind. So it came as a particular surprise when her father addressed her one hot July morning during breakfast.
"Carolina," he said, "it appears your O.W.L. results have come in the mail." He held up a large rectangular envelope.
Carolina let out an audible yelp and quickly scampered around the table, her chair scratching the wooden floor in her haste, to snatch the envelope out of his hands.
"Carolina!" Her mother scolded, "you're sixteen—you should know better than to grab!"
"Sorry, mum," Carolina mumbled, staring transfixed at the envelope, before making quick work of the seal and ripping it open. She pulled out the parchment from inside and unfolded it.
"Well?" Her father asked. "Hand it over."
"Okay," Carolina said without really hearing him, her eyes darting across the parchment.
"Ordinary Wizarding Level Examination Results: Flint, Carolina. Slytherin," the top of the parchment read. Beneath it was a list of classes with a letter next to each class:
"Arithmancy: O
Astronomy: E
Charms: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Herbology: A
History of Magic: O
Muggle Studies: O
Potions: O
Study of Ancient Runes: E
Transfiguration: O,"
A key at the bottom of the parchment explained each of the different letters, stating: "O for Outstanding, E for Exceeds Expectations, A for Acceptable, P for Poor, D for Dreadful, and T for Troll."
Carolina frowned. She had expected the E in Ancient Runes, it had been a difficult test and rote memorization was not her forté, but in Charms? She had felt relatively confident going into that examination, and had been sure she had scored high on her practical. But someone must have scored higher.
And the A in Herbology… that was fine, she had been planning to drop the useless subject anyways. What did she need to know how to grow plants for when she could buy them from an actual trained herbologist?
"Carolina," her father said again, his palm outstretched, expectantly.
Carolina's heartbeat temporarily quickened; she didn't want her father to know she would be continuing with Muggle Studies as a N.E.W.T. subject.'
"I'll read them, so both you and mum can hear," Carolina said, thinking on her feet, and she proceeded to list off her grades, changing Muggle Studies to an A.
"Those are quite the marks, Carolina," her father said, before turning back to his morning Prophet. Carolina felt her cheeks burst into a wide smile; she couldn't remember the last time her father had paid her a compliment.
"Perhaps warranting a celebration?" Her mother said, turning to her father and raising her thin eyebrows.
"Ah yes, Carolina dear, we've been invited by the Malfoy family over for dinner tomorrow evening—you may know their son, Draco? He's two years below you, and quite close with Marcus."
Carolina nodded hesitantly. Was this their idea of a celebration? Bringing her to a dinner that she would have probably already attended anyways? Or had they been planning on forgetting to mention it to her?
"I hear Draco is quite handsome," her mother said, turning back to smile primly at Carolina.
"He's a third year!" Carolina exclaimed.
"A fourth year now," her mother countered.
"Either way," her father said from behind his paper, "it would be prudent for you to be there, to show them that we are a powerful, intelligent Slytherin family."
"I suppose," Carolina consented, leaning back in her chair. So much for a celebration.
"I believe there will be other families attending as well, all with sons who are friends of Draco's," her mother said conspiratorially. "And if I say so myself, there could be no better way to celebrate a successful academic year than finding you a proper beaux."
Carolina's father made a sound of approval from behind his paper.
Carolina grimaced. Friends of Draco meant Crabbe and Goyle—who, after stepping on her hand at the Quidditch final, she considered to be the least eligible bachelors of Hogwarts.
"We'll have to find you something suitable to wear, of course," her mother continued. "Perhaps a dragon leather dress from the storeroom? One of the unreleased designs?" She asked her husband, who nodded imperceptibly in response before lowering his paper and fixing Carolina with an unwavering stare.
"Carolina," he started, "you will undoubtedly be asked about your O.W.L. results. You will not, under any circumstance, let it slip that you took Muggle Studies. Is that understood?"
"Yes, father," Carolina said, feeling drained by the earlier promises and letdowns of the conversation. "If you would excuse me, I should go write Adrian my O.W.L.s." She pushed in her chair, and retreated to her room glumly.
Later that evening, Carolina was standing by the fireplace in a fitted green dress with cap sleeves; the dragon skin glinted yellow in the lamplight. Marcus stood next to her, staring fixedly across the room at a painting of an old wizard with a crup on his lap. Her brother's dress robes were black with buttons and accents made from the same dragon hide as Carolina's dress. Her mother had always enjoyed dressing them to match.
"We will be flooing, so Carolina, make sure you land like a lady—no falling out of the chimney like a drunken house elf like you did at your Great Aunt Garrol's funeral."
"Yes, mum," Carolina replied.
"Right, I will go first," their father said stepping forward, "then you," he nodded to his wife, "Marcus, and finally Carolina. It must be that order." Carolina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Then, he grabbed a handful of floo powder from the small bag hanging next to their fireplace, stepped in, tossed it on the ground and yelled "Malfoy Manor!" amidst the burst of green flames, before disappearing.
Then, Carolina's mother stepped into the fireplace and was gone in a flash, the same way as her husband, leaving Carolina alone with Marcus for the first time since they had thrown hexes at each other on the Hogwarts grounds. Carolina felt her pulse rise, nervous that Marcus would instigate something, but he merely followed suit after their parents without the slightest acknowledgement that he had been anywhere near her proximity.
Carolina sighed and grabbed a handful of the floo powder. It was smooth and cool, just like fine sand after dark. She stepped into their ornate fireplace, before throwing the powder down onto the floor. She felt the green flames—cool, just as the powder had been—leap up against her legs, and she confidently called out "Malfoy Manor!"
Carolina ran a hand through her hair, attempting to calm down the flyaways that traveling by floo always seemed to cause. She then gently straightened her dress, which had gotten twisted as she had hurtled from her own chimney to this grand one, before stepping out and taking in the room.
"And this must be Carolina," a voice simpered and a thin blonde woman stepped forward, grabbing her forearms and leaning in to kiss her cheeks.
"That she is," she heard her mother say, before the woman continued on.
"Oh, isn't she just darling!"
"Carolina, this is Narcissa Malfoy, and her husband, Lucius Malfoy, and you know Draco…"
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Carolina said, shaking hands with Mr. Malfoy, before nodding to Draco. She could almost feel her mother's ferocious smile burning into the side of Carolina's head—a smile to mask the nervousness at being in the presence of such a well regarded pureblood family.
"And this is Gorlick and Matilda Goyle, their son is in Draco's year as well," her mother continued to make introductions. Carolina shook the two hulking men's hands.
"Unfortunately Gregory couldn't make it tonight," Mrs. Goyle stated, "however he sends his regards."
Carolina forced herself not to scoff. It was highly unlikely that Goyle knew what "sending your regards" even meant.
"You can tell him that he will be missed," Carolina said politely, before returning to stand by her mother. She knew this was not the time or place to allow her true thoughts to be known.
"Oh, how nice, Carolina," her mother simpered again.
"Are the Crabbes not in attendance?" Her father turned to face Lucius.
"Regretfully, they couldn't be here tonight, but have assured me they will make themselves available in the future," Lucius said.
"Quite a shame," her father responded. "My son tells me that Vincent and Gregory would make good additions to the Slytherin team, perhaps as beaters. Isn't that right Marcus?"
Marcus nodded stupidly, unaware that it was his turn to uphold the conversation. A swelling silence overcame them for a moment, before Carolina felt it her duty to step in and save her brother.
"Mrs. Malfoy," Carolina said, turning back to the blonde woman, "your home is beautiful—and is that an original painting of Damocles Rowle?" She wasn't lying. The manor seemed immaculately decorated from what she could tell from the sitting room they now occupied.
"It is," Narcissa said, "by a very well-regarded painter as well. It was painted just after he stepped down as Minister and has been passed down through the family since then. A very good eye you have there, not many your age would recognize him."
Carolina smiled as her father stepped in. "Carolina has a penchant for magical history. She was the only fifth year to receive an O on her History of Magic Owl."
"Is that so?" Lucius trailed off, eyeing her carefully.
"Yes, sir."
"And otherwise how did you fare?" Mrs. Goyle questioned as all eyes turned to focus on Carolina.
"Quite well," her mother jumped in. "Six O's, and three E's!"
"Very well, indeed!" Mrs. Goyle said, nodding in Carolina's direction.
"But I hear this isn't the only news we have to celebrate?" Lucius stated.
"Yes, our family is simply reeling from our most recent development!" Her mother said jovially.
"My son tells me that Marcus has been drafted to play on the Falmouth Falcons!" Lucius continued.
"What!" Carolina whispered in shock, before covering her mouth, and playing it off as a cough. Marcus certainly wasn't that good. She eyed her brother suspiciously, but he was ignoring her again, his chest puffed out as he fielded questions from the Goyles and Malfoys.
"Excuse you," her mother leaned over and harshly whispered to her while the other guests fawned over Marcus.
"That is certainly news to celebrate!" purred Narcissa. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room for a toast?"
After the initial discussion of her O.W.L. results, Carolina was greatly ignored for the rest of the meal.
She was occasionally entreated for personal information from Mrs. Goyle and Mrs. Malfoy who were seated opposite her and her mother, but the majority of the conversation between the women focused on the new designs of her parents' dragon leather clothing, and whether Gladrags or Twillfitt's or Madam Malkin's was the superior store to carry the clothing line.
Down the table from her, Carolina's father and the two other men had been gravely discussing the falling standards at the Ministry of Magic. If Carolina heard it right, and she often did, it sounded as if a ministry employee had disappeared at the beginning of the summer and no effort had been made into investigating her whereabouts. Carolina was about to open her mouth and ask how that could be, when she felt her mother's pointed heel dig into the top of her foot and she quickly shut her mouth, casting a discreet glare at her mother who merely widened her eyes dramatically in response, as if to say "not here."
Marcus, still, was treating her as if she was a particularly transparent poltergeist and had been engaged in a conversation with Draco for much of the meal. So, after the dessert, the after-dinner drinks, and retiring to the sitting room, Carolina breathed out a sigh of relief when her mother stated that it was getting late and they should be heading home.
"Why don't you take Carolina home, dear," her father responded. "Lucius, Gorlick and I have a bit more to discuss." So it was decided that Carolina and her mother would return home, while Marcus waited with Draco for their fathers to finish.
Once home, Carolina quickly brushed her teeth and hair, before getting into bed. She couldn't' however, for the life of her, fall asleep, as something was tugging at the back of her mind. It was strange, she thought, as the hour grew later and later and still her father and Marcus hadn't returned, that her family had only been invited over to the Malfoy's now, even though Draco and Marcus had been playing quidditch together for two years. Yes, even though her mother and Narcissa seemed to move in the same social circle. Why now? And it was only at one in the morning, when she finally heard the gentle whoosh of floo powder and hushed voices echoing up the stairs, that she fell into a deep slumber.