Cruel Beauty

Chapter Four
Erotica

Once you put your hand in the flame
You can never be the same
There's a certain satisfaction
In a little bit of pain
I can see you understand
I can tell that you're the same
If you're afraid, well rise above
I only hurt the ones I love—Madonna

Velena had a thousand reasons behind everything that she did. She was reluctant to grant me permission to attend Hogwarts, which I assume was because she wanted to teach me everything herself. And, of course, she was well aware that Albus Dumbledore was Headmaster. She no doubt felt my education would only be tainted.

I would have begged to go, but I knew that would not work with her. Velena does not respond to pathetic things like begging; if you lower yourself in front of her she will not respect you. And if she doesn't respect you, she will grant you nothing. So I did the only thing that I thought might work, I pretended not to care. And in hindsight, I really didn't. Don't fool yourself into thinking that I was dreaming of going to Hogwarts because I might get to see my family or make friends that would last a lifetime. I had family, I didn't like her. And as for friends, I didn't need them—I was better off alone. All I wanted was freedom; Azkaban could have sent me a letter requesting me to come live with them and it would have been all the same to me.

However, in the end, Velena allowed me to go. But of course, not without her cherished words of wisdom. She told me that this was a good opportunity to practice my "skills" and it was about time that I learned how to depend on myself to get ahead in this world. And some other stuff about remembering who I was. I was an Evansole and I should never forget that and what it means. How could I? She's been practically beating into my head since I came here.

We went to Diagon Alley to retrieve my school supplies, though I could tell that my aunt was disgusted by the very thought. She thought that the shops in Diagon Alley were for the common people and Evansoles did not associate themselves with people of common stature.

For a woman so elegant and defined, my aunt complained a lot. She kept mumbling on about how you should be able to purchase Hogwarts robes in Paris. Did I mention that whenever we went shopping, it had to be Paris? Velena was positive that all the best fashions were in France, and I have to be inclined to agree. She may be wrong about a lot of things, but the woman had style.

The only things that I needed to get were my robes, books, and wand. I had gotten everything else previous to my acceptance letter. The first thing that we did was go to get my wand. We went into a shop called Ollivanders. It was dusty and dirty; frankly, I was surprised that Velena would even set foot in the place.

A man with frazzled white hair came out from the back and greeted us with a smile. "Ah, the youngest Weasley, I was wondering when I would see you."

My aunt scowled at him. "She is most certainly not a Weasley."

He practically shrank in fear. People are always way too intimidated by Velena. "My apologies, Miss Evansole," he immediately said, "of course she isn't."

"Ginevra is in need of a wand," Velena stated with a swish of her hand in response to the apology.

Ollivander left immediately to search for wands to try out. After about an hour I found my wand: eleven inches, unicorn hair, mahogany, and very powerful.

We went to pick up the books next. We walked straight into a store which was nearly overflowing with people. Crowds, however, had a habit of always parting for Velena. I used wondered if I could pick up the feature, it was pretty useful.

I had my cauldron filled with books and found that I only needed to find one more. Thank God, I was starting to feel claustrophobic. I was following my aunt to buy the required books when I heard a shrilly male voice call out, "Oh my, it can't be Velena Evansole!"

Gilderoy Lockhart. That man was convinced that he and my aunt were destiny because she was, according to him, the second most beautiful creature in the world. Himself being first, of course.

"Gilderoy!" Velena greeted in her own cheerful way. "It has been far too long since I saw you last!" My aunt and Lockhart talked privately for a few moments and I noticed all the jealous stares from women that she was getting. I was sure that Velena was relishing in this. After they finished their discussion we continued to the counter but Gilderoy insisted on paying for my things, so we just left.

On the way out of the store a man asked if he could take a picture of my aunt but she refused. She told me that she didn't believe in getting her picture taken. I was always convinced that she didn't have a soul so she wouldn't show up in the picture. As I was closing the door I heard Lockhart saying, "Oh my, it can't be Harry Potter." I attempted to turn back to catch a glance, but Velena would have nothing of the sort. Evansoles did not gawk, she reminded me. I had heard the rumors that Harry Potter had returned to the Wizarding World but had forgotten that he would be around the same age as me. Guess that meant that I would see him around Hogwarts.

Velena didn't see me off on the Hogwarts Express, but then again I hadn't really expected her too. She took me to the station in a chauffeured muggle limousine (if you must travel by muggle transportation, at least make it the best was her reasoning) and handed me my ticket. "Do not converse with the wrong people and do not disappoint me. I expect nothing less than perfect marks; I did not raise you to get any less." I nodded and started to get out of the car. "And Ginevra?" she added. I turned to look her in the eyes, "Do not forget who you are."

Once I was in the station I ran into the wall between platforms nine and ten and found myself in front of a red train. I wrinkled my nose in disgust; it was a tacky color of red, too. I quickly boarded the train and found an empty compartment. I changed into my plain Hogwarts robes and sat down. I saw people rushing past my section and hoped that none of them would come in. I did not wish for the company of my peers.

To my immense relief I was left alone. After the train arrived I heard a loud voice booming "First years over here!" I followed the voice and saw the biggest man that I had ever set eyes on. He had a long beard that looked as if it inhabited creatures. Great, this was who they sent to guide the little children to Hogwarts.

The giant led us to some boats, I chose one by myself. We drifted along the water until we arrived at a giant castle. I saw the other children gawking at it but I kept myself composed. When we entered the castle a stern looking woman with her gray hair pulled tightly back in a bun greeted us. While she explained about the four different houses and how we would be sorted I was half tempted to explain to her that if you pull your hair that tightly back you are just asking for more wrinkles. After she was finished the others first years chattered excitedly amongst themselves. I hoped that they knew that they looked like sniveling little dogs the way they were yapping away.

After our brief wait she led the group into the Great Hall. I saw the other students sizing up the first years, trying to guess what house they would be placed in. The woman who called herself Professor McGonagall stopped in front of a stool with a battered old hat sitting on top of it. So this was the famous Sorting Hat. I briefly wondered how many heads it had been on and if it had ever been washed…it certainly did not appear to have ever been cleaned.

The hat sang an annoying sort of song and then the official sorting began. The other kids were rapidly paying attention as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. I didn't really care where the other students were sorted; it was of no consequence to me. I glanced at my surroundings and saw four red heads sitting together at the Gryffindor table gaping at me. I wondered if they were relatives of mine. My eyes continued down the table and I saw a boy with messy black hair and a scar. Harry Potter, I thought. I looked down at the crest on his robes, a Gryffindor. I rolled my eyes and looked forward once more, of course hero boy would be in the so-called noble house.

Finally my name was called, "Ginevra Evansole." McGonagall said loudly.

I heard someone clear their throat, "Weasley." The professor looked shocked that someone would interrupt her. In fact the whole school was now looking at the owner of that bold voice. It was one of the red haired twins. Guess that left little room for doubt on the relative issue. "Her last name is Weasley, Professor McGonagall," the boy continued.

Everyone started at me, waiting for clarification. "My last name is Evansole." Please, as if I was going to claim the Weasley name. This satisfied McGonagall and she motioned for me to put on the hat. I sat on the stool and slipped the old hat on.

Hmm, another Weasley.

I am not a Weasley.

But it is all here, right in your head. You cannot hide your identity from me.

The blood of a Weasley may run through my veins but my heart as well as my head is clearly that of an Evansole.

Very well…you do realize all the other Weasleys have been Gryffindors…but I see something different in you. Yes, you have the bravery but there is something more. I see that you are very intelligent, Ravenclaw perhaps? Ah, what is this? You have a cruel streak in you, don't you? Extremely cunning, well then it better be…

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat yelled. I hopped off the stool and walked over to the far table. I sat down beside a girl with black hair and did a quick double take. It was Parkinson! If she was in this house then this was just going to be a barrel of laughs. Although, this would give me the perfect opportunity to torture the girl…I mentally laughed, yes, this wouldn't be so bad after all.

My thoughts were interrupted by a lazy drawl. "Well, isn't this interesting, a Weasley in Slytherin." I looked to my left and saw a blond boy with a smirk on his face.