Chapter Text
“ She was spoiled, she was bratty. She was super-narcissistic before selfies were even invented. In short, she was a pretty awful person (with extra emphasis on the pretty and oh wow, we wanted to be her. “
As the fire exploded behind me, I grabbed Julie and tore down the hallway, our giggles filling my ears instead of the sound of fire catching onto curtains behind me. Julie looked back and bit her lip, her cheeks flushing from the heat. The burning smell was putrid, but it just made it all as fun. Two blue skirts billowed behind us, our flats heels ringing in the empty corridor. I blinked, before coughing from the carbon monoxide. *Okay, maybe doing this in a enclosed area was a bad idea.*
Julie dragged me further, pushing open double wide doors that led to the courtyard. A group of girls in white pants and cobalt blouses looked confused, then quickly noticed the blazing fire behind us and started to panic. The teacher, Ms. Jeanne looked angry. Not really saying much by this, the old bitch always looked angry and every girl and boy in Beaux-Batons knew it was because of her husband taking the house in the divorce.
“Qu'est-ce que tu as bien pu faire?” — *What on earth have you done?* she said. Julie scoffed, our arms intertwined as we clutched each other. I looked at Julie, before putting on a fearful face. “Oh, Ms. Jeanne— me and Julie, we went down to your classroom in hopes of chatting with you and there was a fire!” I said as tears fell from my eyes, and Julie pressed herself into my side like a scared toddler.
“Oh, Ms. Jeanne, I think I’m traumatized!” Julie squealed, tears rolling down her face too. Ms. Jeanne, knowing better, sent her students to put out the fire we caused. “You two — “ She bit her tongue. “You both go to the headmaster’s office. Now.” I cried harder, looking at her with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster up.
“Now I said!” She shrieked, sounding akin to a dragon. Me and Julie sniffled and walked off to the headmasters office. I rolled my eyes, wiping my tears away and whispering into Julies ear— “Putrid old hag.”
Our parents were called, and in the moment I was in the chair next to my mother, crying my eyes out, mascara running down my cheeks as I swore to merlin that it wasnt me and it had happened on its own.
Headmaster Beaufornt scoffed in my face, and looked to my mother. “It is obvious that she did it. Her little friend already fessed up to causing the fire.” She spoke as she rolled her eyes. My mother let out a gasp, her arms going to wrap around my shaking body as I continued to fake sob. “My Lottie would never do something so— devilish! You’re nothing short of evil for accusing her of something so terrible!” My mother shouted, covering my ears, the continuing to run her fingers through my blonde hair.
She kissed the apple of my cheeks, her long eyelashes brushing my face. “You will be getting a call from our lawyer for expelling such an excellent girl! You will be regretting this in the future when you no longer have a star student!” My mother shrieked as we both stood up and left her office.
As we got out, a group of girls were huddled by the door, listening in. They all gasped at the look on my face, and rushed around me. Murmurs went around, and I brushed my pretend tears away. I faked being emotional as I pushed past them and huddled into my mother's side.
Once we left the campus, my mother had a quill and parchment in hand. I was playing with my wand, smoothing over the pearl at the end. I sighed, looking out the window. The thestrals were flying high in the sky, and I could see the distant town beneath us.
I wondered what would happen if I hopped out, before retreating back to my seat. “Mama?” I called out, looking down at my cobalt skirt as i toyed with the petticoat underneath. “Yes?” She returned, continuing to write. “Where am I going now?” I asked. She sighed, the quill in her hand falling onto the parchment.
“I don’t know. Three schools in four years. That doesn’t exactly look good on records.” I rolled my eyes, glancing at my nails. “Whatever.” My mother flipped her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder, thinking. “Hogwarts could be good for you. You’ve got history there, on your father’s side.” She added as she continued writing.
“Who’re you writing too?” I asked while taking my flats off. This would be a long ride. “The publicist. We can’t let the daily prophet know that you’ve been expelled while your father is running for minister of magic in France. Its bad news.” I rolled my eyes at her, looking away. “I assume that we’re going to have to try and get you into Hogwarts as quickly as we can. They aren’t a year round school, but they start sometime in September.”
She spoke while tucking away her letter into a envelope, then began writing another. “You are so difficult. Your father will be livid, don’t you know? This could soil his reputation.” I huffed out dramatically, the heels of my feet knocking against the bottom of my seat.
“Who cares? He’s already been the minister.” My mother gasped at my rottenness, her hand reaching out and slapping me on my knee, leaving a red handprint. I flinched away, tucking myself into the corner of the carriage as she yelled at me for being disrespectful.
As I returned home, I remembered the never ending white paneled walls. I walked into the living room, the secondary assistant behind me. Margo, the assistant, announced my presence to the manor.
I walked into the living room, hearing the murmuring of two men.
“Right… he’s getting to the age, you know? It’s about time.”
“Well, she’s still in school.”
“Give it a few months. She’ll warm up to the offer.”
“Right.. thanks for the offer, Mr. Thornehill. I’ll think about it.”
“Father?” I said, causing Mr. Thornehill to cough in shock. Must’ve not heard Margo. She wasn’t very loud, anyway.
“Oh. Scarlett. This is Mr. Thornehill, Raynard Thornehills father.”
“I know.”
Mr. Thornehill must’ve felt the tension in the room, taking his hat off his head and putting it to his chest. “You two have a good night. …. Right. I’ll be on my way.” He murmured before leaving the house.
“What was that about?” I asked while my father called over Margo, getting her to refill his glass of bourbon.
“He wants to get Raynard married soon.” He said with a straight face, talking like it was just the weather we were discussing. He walked over to the window, grabbing his glass out of Margos hand.
“To me?” I asked while staring bullets into his back. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his blonde (mostly grey) hair. “Yes.”He spoke lowly, his hand pausing over his heart. I blinked, before excusing myself and walking upstairs to my room.