A/N: Sorry if this sounds slightly bitchy, but if you put my story on either story alert, favorite story or add me to your favorite author/author alert list, then could you please review? I would like to thank Ima .soc. razy for reviewing. You really made my day. Same goes for most everyone else. I'll post a list at the bottom of this chapter. This chapter is dedicated to Ima .soc. razy and to PrincessMersadi's, because you helped me overcome my writers block. REVIEW!

Disclaimer: No, I DO NOT own the Harry Potter series. However, I own Stella, Nina, Alli, Alex, Scarlett and everyone you don't recognize. WHOO ME! Mafalda I partially own, J.K. Rowling had the idea and I put it into motion.

~passes around two bowls of sour and regular skittles… (those things are good =D)~

Chapter 9: Good Morning, Sunshine?

"So, what do the twins usually eat?" Mafalda, the pink obsessed evil cow asked, looking to the entrance of the Great Hall expectantly, adding a very worried statement under her breath, "Where are they?"

WOW… she sounds like their mum. Weird. No, wrong….

"They tend to wake up really late. Late enough so that they have most of the sleep needed for the next year or so…." I said, fuming in my brain pessimistically. I was really pissed that Mafalda had to be in Gryffindor for the year. Professor Dumbledore had commented how practical it would be for her to be among familiar people and even though I saw his logic, it didn't mean I had to be happy about it.

"I wasn't asking you." Way to ruin my day, again.

"Yet still early enough to make it to class and proclaim, in the middle of History of Magic, that they haven't had enough sleep and 'would you please write notes for me, Stella….'" Stella added, smiling at me, trying to lighten the mood and looking at me cautiously, like a bomb about to go off. "Normally, they stuff just about everything they can get into their mouths…."

I remembered Ron, and looked over to see him, chatting, and eating simultaneously, with Harry Potter. Harry, caught my eye, and then blinked away nervously, obviously still unsure about my random conversation and the gapping at him yesterday. I speared part of a waffle onto my fork and popped it into my mouth.

"You hold your fork weird, you know?" Mafalda said, a slight lilt at the end of her speech, making a normally neutral conversation cross into the code red zone.

"What? Oh yeah. I don't know. I guess I just do…." I eat like a normal person. I didn't chuck stuff into my mouth, pour gravy and slobber it down, nor do I hold my fork weird…. I eyed her, baffled at her apparent need to find something wrong with me.

"Yes. When my dad was working in Paris, he was invited to some very important dinners. My mom thought it was necessary to learn proper dining technique. But, not everyone will know that sort of thing here, I expect…" she eyed Ron's shabby robes and looked around coldly. Right from the start, she seemed to have thought she owned the place.

"Yeah. Well…" Stella was trying to loosen the mood up again, "what's your favorite subject?"

"Advanced Intermediate Potions. I was the best in the class. It was just too easy. Transfiguring a tiger into an armchair really isn't that difficult…"

Advanced Intermediate Potions! Holy crap. You can barely transfigure a porcupine into a pincushion without it squealing when it sees a needle….that was one funny class period….

"You have advanced classes? That's amazing. So how does that work?"Stella asked incredulously. She was the smartest in our year and had even been offered to go on an exchange to Beauxbatons, but she had declined. Her parents hadn't been able to afford it.

"What! Hogwarts doesn't? Well, basically, if you are the top in your grade you get moved up a year, and are in the same class as people a year above you. Sadly, you can't skip three times, so let's say, if I'm in 1st year, I can't go up to fourth year to learn….." Mafalda lectured Stella, who looked only mildly interested. Suddenly, I saw Fred and George walk into the Great Hall, Lee following behind them like a lost puppy. Mafalda looked up eagerly. I stabbed my waffle with force, cutting the waffle into two uneven halves.

Halves can't be uneven. That's the whole concept. A half is one EQUAL part out of two….

Two tan and muscular hands covered my eyes. I groaned. I mean, how much worse does the day have to be without someone obscuring my line of vision and distracting me from my uneven waffle halves? Don't answer that. It was very rhetorical.

VERY rhetorical? Sweetie, we need to work on your use of adjectives. It is either rhetorical or it isn't. Very does not exist in this realm. AAH! Your line of vision is being restored. Hiss….the light…..ha-ha I'm a vampire! Matches with Ginny's original theory at least...

"Good morning, sunshine!" It was George (or Fred). I faked a grin, nodding towards Mafalda and rolled my eyes. He looked at me and nodded, thoughtful. SO! Aha! It was George! He had always been the more thoughtful twin…. But then, wait….where did my waffle half go? It was gone!

It's not a half! It might be three-eighths of a waffle or five-eighths, but it is not a half!

"George or Fred? Give me back my waffle half! I speared that myself, you know?" I exclaimed indignantly. The twins both turned to me and shook their heads, giving me the you-are-such-a-retard look I had become accustomed to and was reserved especially for me.

"I'm George." Said George, chewed up waffle in his mouth. I resisted the impulse to look away; I had to train for a WHOLE summer with my step brothers, so instead I turned to the other twin.

"I'm Fred." Said Fred, chewed up waffle dangling out of his mouth, too. Crap. They both had waffle in their mouth. How was I supposed to tell them apart and figure out which one had been thoughtful?

They don't look exactly the same, you know. Stella can tell them apart and besides, one is taller than the other….

Very helpful! If I could tell them apart I would! Why does everyone seem to think I'm stupid?

"Why oh why do you have to be identical?" I wailed at them, put on my best puppy dog face. That is, if a puppy dog was battling twins and was pissed at a pink obsessed cow. That would actually be kind of cool. "Do you guys have any distinguishing birthmarks or something stupid like that? No freckle counting though. That would take forever."

"Umm. Hate to disappoint you, but we are wickedly handsome, witty, hilarious, sexy-"

"-arrogant sods. I guess Sharpie will have to work then…." I chuckled to myself gleefully, rubbing my hands together mischievously. The guys paled. Oh, poor dears. They have no idea what I'm talking about.

"Umm…. Stella, what is a Scarpie?" Fred and George said in unison, creepily, looking at her nervously, as if they would hide behind her in case I attacked them with a 'Scarpie'.

"A harpy? Well in Greek Mythology-"

"A Scarpie. Scarlett threatened to attack us with a Scarpie." One of the twins said. Stella shrugged. She hadn't been raised by Muggles and she had never seen a Sharpie.

"A Sharpie is a permanent marker." I explained grinning at their unusual reaction. They still looked puzzled. "It's like a permanent quill. I was going to give you guys mustaches or label you with them." I shook my head at them and reached into my book bag to get out an old purple sharpie of mine.

"Excuse me. Here are your schedules." A clear, commanding voice broke the awkward silence that had ensued my Sharpie explanation. Professor McGonagall gave me my schedule and then took the Sharpie out of my hand examining it. After what seemed like ages of holding our breath everyone relaxed again as she handed it back. "Miss Smith-Weasley, please remember the guidelines. I remember quite clearly that I have told you, your skirt needs to be at least two inches, from where your fingertip touches, long. This is far too short. Please address this problem. Now, I'll see you in class."

Mafalda flushed bright red, because as Professor McGonagall strode away we had all turned to examine the offending object. I grinned to myself, looking down at my own uniform; long light grey stockings, a checkered black and gray skirt, a white short sleeved shirt and a scarlet and gold tie that hung loosely around my neck. I was very glad that Professor McGonagall had found out that Mafalda was trying to pull off a mini skirt and long legs look, especially when I looked at Mafalda's medium length legs. Mafalda glared at me as she caught me grinning and with a flick of her wand, lowered her checker skirt down till it was acceptable looking. Not that anything that slut wears will ever be acceptable looking.

Hey now! Be nice. Though, way to go McGonagall!

After jumping up cheerfully, receiving looks from a lot of people, realizing that my conscious had agreed with me, and McGonagall, I decided to look at my schedule. Marveling at the large free periods and the new classes (Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes) I grabbed Alicia's schedule and compared them.

"Okay, so we have Potions this morning, then Care of Magical Creatures, both with the Slytherins….uggh. Tomorrow, we start with Ancient Runes with Ravenclaw. Wait, Fred… are you taking Ancient Runes or Muggle Studies? Hmm. Okay." I said, grabbing Fred's and George's schedules and comparing them to mine, as well.

"Why aren't the two of you taking Muggle Studies? You could use it. Especially with your fear of the Scarpie," I inquired, nudging the twins with my elbow and then cracking up at their pissed expressions.

"So if Ancient Runes is with Ravenclaw and so is Herbology, then we have Charms and Transfiguration with Hufflepuff and….Cedric!" I said, exclaiming the last part with Alicia and Katie, both reading over my shoulders by now.

"Gorgeous Cedric." Angelina said, sighing. Fred, behind her back, gagged. I rolled my eyes at him. He poked out his tongue. "Never mind, cute guys can wait. Are you trying for the Quidditch team again this year, Scarlett?"

"Yeah. Oliver probably won't let me play Chaser, because you guys already are Chasers and you are my best friends, as shocking as that might be sometimes." I told them rolling my eyes at the way the captain and the keeper of the team was disregarding me. Favoritism. "Besides, I might just stay on the reserve team."

"You could try for Seeker." Piped up Lee, grinning at me, flirtatiously. I wacked him in the head with one of his dreadlocks. But, I couldn't help but feel that he had a point.

"My brother Charlie left a year ago and he used to be the teams seeker so I guess you could try out." Fred or George said. "We haven't properly won a match against Slytherin in almost five years!

"What's so bad about the Slytherins?" Mafalda said, twirling a lock of her auburn hair around her finger. Collective gasps gathered around her as the whole Gryffindor table looked at her in shock. Okay, maybe, I'm over exaggerating. Maybe just the part of the table that heard her. Stella, the ever composed one, turned to her and explained.

"The Slytherins have never gotten on well with the Gryffindors. The original heads of the houses got into a fight and I guess we're still fighting. They also tend to be sneaky and cruel, teasing Muggleborns, making fun of half-breeds and causing chaos by bullying the other houses. Just like oil and water. They don't mix."

"Which one of us is oil?" Fred (or George) said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Which… one…of….us….is…oil?" Mafalda half squealed, giggling like a small girl. She smiled flirtatiously at Fred, who didn't seem to notice as he was very busy trying to make a waffle house. I glared at her. "But yeah, thank you so much, Stella, for explaining. You are so good at that. You'd make a great teacher."

Stella smiled at her modestly, even though I knew it had touched her heart. Stella had always wanted to be a teacher. Mafalda told everyone exactly what they wanted to hear. ARRGH!

"Stella, do you want to come back up to the Gryffindor tower with me? I think I left my stuff there." I turned to her and then found I was looking at an empty space. I look around for her and found her walking, no, being pulled out, by Mafalda. I glared after her, attempting to burn a hole into her back. It didn't work.

Well, go figure. Stella is just nice to EVERYONE.

"Erm." The twins waved their hands in front of my face, apparently thinking I had gone into another daydream. I looked at them and giggled. They turned to each other, confused. Then, realizing nothing was wrong with their faces (yet) they turned back to me and gave me another we-don't-want-to-understand-you look. Then, I yanked the twins and Lee along with me, hooking my book bag over my shoulder and leaving the Great Hall without another backwards glance.

"Hey Scarlett!" Fred hissed over. I could tell it was Fred, because earlier that day I had scribbled some Sharpie on to his face in the shape of an f. I had decided to not do it to George, because otherwise I might get confused and mix up the g with the f. That and the fact that the Sharpie had been wrestled out of my hand by George and Lee, before I had a chance to maim either of them.

They were very lucky, even though marking people with Sharpie isn't a good idea.

"What on earth? Fred?" I whispered to him, leaning over to him, nearly toppling over. Professor Binns didn't seem to notice, his head bobbing up and down, as if he were still just a wizard asleep by the fire. Fred motioned towards his empty desk and then feigned sleeping.

"Could you write notes for me?" Fred stage whispered back at me, causing giggles to erupt all around the classroom. I groaned and got out my quill and ink, prepared for another boring History of Magic class, writing notes for all my friends.

"Oh no, that's fine, Scarlett. If you don't want to be troubled, I don't mind doing it." Mafalda said, leaning over to us, whipping out another piece of parchment and beginning to scribble at it ferociously. I rolled my eyes, put my head back and resumed my daydreaming.

"Miss Winterbourne? Miss Winterbourne?" A wheezy, hollow voice said. Professor Binns was gazing down at me inquiringly. I nodded to let him know I was listening and then he continued on, slipping a small note onto my desk.

"The headmaster would like to see you in his office," Professor Binns claimed, tapping the envelope with his ghostly translucent finger. I made no effort to move. "He would like to see you now."

I jumped up, suddenly jittery and unusually giddy. A couple students laughed, but my face flushed red, burning. I took the note in my hand and picked up my book bag, exiting the classroom swiftly, as Professor Binns resumed his monotonous drone and began teaching again.

"What would he have to say?" I said to myself, attempting to reassure myself that all was alright. I had never been sent to Professor Dumbledore before. Sure, I wasn't the most well behaved student, but I had never pranked anyone seriously enough to cause real injury. I brought my index finger to the sides of my forehead, rubbing it around, trying to think of something, anything…that I had done. Someone coughed, and I turned around to see a tall boy with green eyes and tousled dark chocolate brown hair.

"Are you okay?" the guy asked me, concerned. I half smiled at him.

"Oh crap. Lovely first impression, huh?" I said, waving bye quickly, which was depressing as he was right in front of me. I rushed ahead, up the stairs and away from the complete stranger who must have thought I was crazy. I muttered to myself, "talking to myself, almost running into a complete stranger, who is cute, and trying to calm myself by rubbing my temples. Lovely first impression!"

If you keep talking, he really is going to think you're a loon. Just saying….

I had reached Dumbledore's office. Huffing and panting, I sat down next to the stone gargoyle that guarded it and got the letter out of my skirt pocket. Folding the crumpled note down, I began running my fingers across the blue ink.

To Miss Scarlett Winterbourne,

The password is Licorice Snaps.

Professor Dumbledore

Huh? Seriously. That's all he tells me. How am I supposed to get into the office?

Yeah. And YOU are the smart one. The password, you dimwit! Say it to the gargoyle…duh!

I calmed down and slowly and steadily said Licorice Snaps to the gargoyle. The gargoyle leapt aside, startling me, and the wall behind it split open, revealing a staircase. I stepped forward and stood on the first step. Suddenly, the staircase started moving like an escalator. I smiled and began jumping up the steps. Eventually, though it stopped and I found myself in front of a large polished oak door, with a knocker in the shape of a griffin on it. I wasn't feeling so peachy anymore and when I knocked my fingers were shaky.

"Enter." said Professor Dumbledore, his tone serious and grave. The door swung open and I walked into his office. His office was in the shape of a large oval, with windows on almost all sides and portraits of wizards and witches all along the remaining wall. Professor Dumbledore motioned towards me to sit in the armchair in front of the large, claw-footed desk behind which he was sitting. His desk was strewn with papers such as newspapers and very official looking documents. He was holding a large red quill and a silver ink pot and he was observing a muggle newspaper called The London Times through his half moon spectacles. I looked at him inquiringly and he smiled. It was not an unpleasant smile, but it was a grave, pitying and serious one and I could almost feel my heart drop to my stomach.

"You are Scarlett Winterbourne, right?" he asked and I nodded from my sitting position in the armchair. He nodded back, as if he only seemed to be confirming the details. "And your official name is Gwyneth Cleopatra?" Once again I nodded, but this time I was really freaked out. No one used my official name except for when they were really mad at me and most of the people I knew had no idea that I wasn't really named Scarlett. How had Dumbledore, of all people, known?

"Could you fill me in on who your family is and where they live?" Professor Dumbledore inquired, looking at me as if in an interrogation. I nodded, shaking my curly hair back, and begun to speak.

"My mother's name is Jenny Winterbourne and my aunt's name is Julia Winterbourne. My step dad's name is Daniel Lyon and my step siblings are called Stephan, Thorsten, Thomas, Anthony and Benjamin. They have the same last name as my dad. And we live in Brentwood, near London. " I blurted out, rushing through the names as fast as I could. The look in Professor Dumbledore's eyes seemed slightly amused, but then he blinked and his crystal blue eyes seemed only full of grave news.

"Well, Scarlett. I'm afraid that you have just confirmed some very serious news. Yesterday evening, in a small cottage near London, many members of your family have been murdered. Your mother is alright, but she's slightly, well, shaken. Two of your stepsiblings survived, but they are in critical condition. " I froze. Professor Dumbledore did not seem surprised at my expression, and I couldn't help but notice a hint of remembering in his eyes. I couldn't feel anything anymore. I couldn't talk, and for all I knew, I probably wouldn't have wanted to either. A nagging feeling hit my heart, burning in a permanent black hole. A nagging feeling of loss.

A/N: OOH! A cliffhanger. Well, sort of. Please review. Thank you to my reviewers….

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