Scarlett LeStrange, a Slytherin, a pure blood. Raised in Malfoy Manor after her Mother and father were convicted and sent to Azkaban.
She had never felt like a Slytherin, despite her dark bloodline. Secretly she longs to have a family like the Weas...
Arriving at the Quidditch World Cup, the entire grounds pulsed with excitement and joy. Tents adorned the stadium's perimeter, where witches and wizards engaged in games, laughter, and lively banter about their favored teams, with bets actively circulating. The aroma of popcorn, doughnuts, burgers, and chips wafted through my senses as food carts lined the entrance. My mouth watered at the butterbeer, it was my favourite!
"Father, do we have a tent?" Draco inquired, his eyes as alight with excitement as mine at the vibrant scene.
"Don't be foolish, boy! We won't be staying," Lucius scoffed, dismissing the idea of camping as beneath him. Dracos face fell slightly. I nudged his shoulder briefly, followed by a reassuring smile. As much as Draco was a bully at Hogwarts and I didn't agree with his attitude, we became close due to our families lack of affection.
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I had chosen to wear a emerald green dress which cinched my now forming waist with pleats flowing down to just below my knee. Along with black tights, boots and my black dragon skinned blazer coat. I sprayed some of my favourite floral perfume. Draco adorned a sleek black suit, his growth spurt evident as he now stood slightly taller then me. We had to look our best as we were in the ministers box!
As we entered the building, ascending toward the Minister's box, a familiar group of redheads was making their way up the stairs.
"Blimey, Dad, how far up are we?" Ron's voice carried. Lucius turned to us, a malevolent smile playing on his lips, then shifted his attention toward the Weasleys.
"Well, put it this way, if it rains, you'll be the first to know..." he taunted, followed by Draco's jeers. I looked away, embarrassed by the entire encounter.
Feeling eyes on me, I turned to find the more pleasant twin looking at me with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. He had grown significantly over the summer too, his hair longer and his shoulders broadened. He no longer resembled a boy. A small flutter stirred in my belly, leaving me puzzled by this unfamiliar sensation.
I averted my gaze as my uncle and Draco proceeded towards the Minister's box. The view was breathtaking, offering a sweeping panorama of the action. Draco enthusiastically cheered for the Bulgarians, being a Viktor Krum fan. Meanwhile, I rooted for the Irish.
When the game concluded with Krum catching the Snitch, my excitement soared as I realised the Irish had done enough to secure victory. Draco playfully stuck his tongue out at me, but I couldn't help but laugh in triumph.
"I guess you needed to win something... seeing as I always beat you at everything!" Draco jeered as we left the stadium from a secure exit away from the manic fans celebrating.
"Oh shut up you sore loser..." I laugh, nudging draco as Lucius walked ahead of us.
"I'm not a sore loser... it's the truth. I'm on the quidditch team, you're not. I have better grades then you did at my age-" he started listing off my faults before I interrupted him, "except potions!" I exclaimed, causing his eyes to roll.
