Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, Sherlock, or Mulan.
Molly's stomach fluttered like butterflies. She had risen early that morning to bathe. Molly's mother and aunt had scrubbed her so much, she was surprised that she still had her skin on. Her hair had been brushed, tugged and pulled every which way before it was finally braided and pinned on her head. The dress she wore was a golden colored silk with white lacings that complemented her brown eyes.
She now stood in front of the matchmaker's house with her mother, Mary, and Aunt Martha on either side of her.
Aunt Martha smiled and patted Molly on the shoulder. "Don't worry dear, you'll be fine. You look very lovely."
Molly forced a smile.
The door opened and a woman wearing a pink dress and headpiece strutted out and called, "Molly Hooper."
"Here!" cried Molly, a little louder than she intended.
The pink clad woman smiled in a rather sickeningly sweet way, then replied, " A proper young lady does not raise her voice above the soft whisper of a breeze."
"S,sorry."
Molly lowered her eyes, embarrassed. A few seconds into the meeting and she's already made a bad first impression.
"Now then," said the woman, "I am Madam Umbridge, and I shall examine you to see if you have the makings of a suitable wife. Right this way."
After receiving a final hand squeeze of encouragement from her mother, Molly followed the matchmaker into the house.
After closing the door, Umbridge led Molly to the center of the room then walked in a slow circle around her.
"Rather petite, aren't we?"
Molly thought the comment strange, coming from a woman who was shorter than her.
Madam Umbridge stopped in front of her and studied her face.
"Skin too pale. Brown eyes (pity, most men prefer blue or green ones). Features are rather mousy."
Honestly, with the way Madam Umbridge was grinning at her, Molly FELT like a mouse about to be devoured by a cat.
"Fortunately, looks are not everything," said Umbridge. "Let us continue, shall we?"
She went to the table, and Molly finally got a good look at the room.
On the walls were paintings of black kittens on pink pillows.
There were pink tapestries on the windows, a pink rug on the floor near the fireplace, even pink flowers in a pink vase on the table.
Madam Umbridge must really like pink, thought Molly.
"Ahem"
Molly's attention snapped back to Umbridge who was now sitting at the table, with a goblet and a pitcher of wine in front of her.
"Recite the first rule of the duty of a proper young lady."
Molly straightened her shoulders and spoke confidently; "Be careful what you say, for your words reflect upon your family's reputation."
Despite her smile, Umbridge looked disappointed, as though she had not expected Molly to know the answer.
"Pour the wine please."
Molly picked up the pitcher and started to fill the goblet.
"What are your skills?" asked Umbridge, "Do you play any instrument? "
"O yes, I play the pipe."
"You mean...the flute?"
"No Madam, the pipe."
Madam Umbridge sipped the wine, still smiling, but now in a condescending way.
"I see. A peasant's instrument."
Molly's cheeks flushed.
Umbridge then rose and went to stand near the fireplace.
"How a young woman enters a room, with dignity and grace (something I'm certain you lack) also reflects upon her family. Take a stroll around the room please."
Molly placed the pitcher down, straightened her back, held her head high, then nervously started walking. She had been practicing with her mother, but Umbridge's insults were getting to her.
She was so focused on walking correctly, that she didn't notice the pink rug.
Her shoe caught the edge and she tripped.
Trying to catch her balance, Molly bumped right into the matchmaker, practically knocking her into the fireplace.
"O! You clumsy.. " Umbridge started, but stopped when she realized her dress had caught fire.
She grabbed her dress and started shaking it, but that only caused the blaze to spread farther.
In a panic, she began screaming and ran out the front door.
Molly grabbed the pitcher and ran after her.
"PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT!" shrieked Umbridge as she burst out the door.
Molly followed, seconds behind, and threw the wine on Umbridge.
SPLASH!
It put out the fire, but unfortunately Umbridge was now soaked and furious. She viciously turned on Molly.
"You will NEVER bring honor to your family! You are a disgrace! A shame, an outrage, a..."
"Enough!" Mary planted herself in front of her daughter. For a moment, she and Umbridge glared at each other.
"I am truly sorry for what happened and will pay for the damage, but I will NOT tolerate having my daughter spoken to in such a manner."
She took the pitcher from Molly and handed it to Umbridge, who snatched it then promptly strutted into the house.
A/N: Ugh.. This chapter did NOT want to be written. But I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out. Please leave a review and tell me what you think so far.