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Scarlett had been up all night in her dormitory, tossing and turning and getting not one wink of sleep. All that was on her mind was the letter. The goddamn letter. She didn't know what to feel about it. How to react. Part of her wanted to scream and shout and throw fragile things like china pots and dolls and first-years. The other part of her wanted to curl up into a ball in shock and block out everything until the problem went away. However, there was a third part of her - one that didn't really fit in with the maths but certainly fit in with her normal attitude. The part that would relentlessly hunt the problem down and wouldn't sleep easy until it was destroyed. Naturally, that was what she did.

The letter was written in a vaguely familiar cursive script - elegant and perfect, just like the sender. Or what the sender seemed to be, at least. It briefly and bluntly described how she needed to go home, how her mother was waiting, how her - her father was waiting. When she finished reading it, she had swung her legs over the bench at the Gryffindor table and ran out of the hall, immediately heading for the Grounds to think.

There, she had ripped grass out of the ground and screamed and kicked until she couldn't anymore, and her face as red as her hair, she collapsed to the ground, her ginger-red locks fanning out beside her. Scarlett's expression was positively murderous and it was simply good fortune that no one had stumbled upon her. In that state, she would've died from embarrassment, then come back to life to hex the intruder into oblivion.

Feelings racing - mind reeling - she felt an overwhelming shockwave of emotions ranging from a spark of happiness to a ruthless desire to - to do something - something to her family for abandoning her. She didn't know what she wanted to do, but she definitely did want to do something. Something not so nice. Her parents had left her for five years. Abandoned her, departed, whatever. They had left. And now they came back, wanting to chat and catch up and act like it wasn't their fault? Fuck no.

That didn't mean she wasn't going to go back home, however. Scarlett was definitely returning home, though not to drink tea and exchange pleasantries. She wanted answers. And if her parents weren't going to give them to her, she would force it out of their pretty, pure-blooded mouths the hard way. A small part of her wanted to run home and sob desperately in her mother's embrace, but that had been pushed aside in favour of a cold and harsh manner.

Fiona had come to collect her, and neither of them had said a word about the situation. Her aunt's mouth was a grim, slashed line and her hands were cold as they Apparated back to Godric's Hollow in silence. Thoughts were racing through Scarlett's mind. Why did her father leave? Why was he coming back now? Why was mother there? The swish of the wind slapped her in the face as a response and she glanced around. The softly-lit halls of Hogwarts had now been replaced with the brisk, autumnal Godric's Hollow.

Fiona practically dragged her through the town, the two of them still silent. They wounded through the cottages and the statues, the shops and trees all the way to the edge, where a massive villa lay, all cream walls and ivy foliage. In a gold plaque on the door, it read 'Marigold Villa'. A light was on in one of the rooms.

Scarlett bit back a scream. Her parents were in there. What if they hated her? What if they really abandoned her? The last time she had been in the house was to collect her items to move to Fiona's, her mother in that horrifying state of depression in her room. And now she was back. After six long years, Scarlett knocked and opened the door, stepping inside the villa and letting Fiona drift away.

***

The house smelled vintage and dusty. It retained the distinct scent of marigolds but that had almost faded after years of neglect. Quiet talking came from the living room. Scarlett crept down the hallway, glancing at the rugs and vases and everything that reminded her of her early childhood. She pushed the door open to where her parents stood.

They hadn't changed. Her father was tall, dark and handsome. Her mother fair, slender and beautiful. How had she - Scarlett - the one who loved tomfoolery and playing around and getting into fights - ever had parents like this? She wasn't that pretty for Merlin's sake. That was all pure-blooded families were - rich, pretty, powerful supremists. They looked at her before her father spoke.

"Sit down Scarlett," he said. "We need to have a talk."

Scarlett had many prepared responses to whatever her father could've said - apologies, explanations, the like - but asking her to sit down and listen after being gone for nine tedious years? Not fucking likely.

"I will not sit down I will not listen," said Scarlett with a snarl. "You've been gone for nine fucking years and unless I get a decent explanation of where you went and why you went, I'm going to leave the house and go right back to Hogwarts."

"Scarlett, please listen to what your father has to say," said her mother. Weak.

"And you!" snapped Scarlett, whirling to Evelyn. "You're just as bad. Don't think that because you left by accident that means you haven't hurt me. You're fucking weak. Instead of helping your daughter when her father left, you left as well! In your little fucking room acting depressed and dramatic. And you were perfectly fine all along."

"Hey, you know what?" continued Scarlett, losing her cool. "I'm going to leave now. I'm going to leave and I'm going to leave permanently. I have Fiona. I don't need you two."

She turned around to march out of the door, her intentions clear, when her father's hand caught her wrist. "Let go of me you little motherfucker!" she shouted, wrenching out from his grasp.

"Scarlett," he warned in a deadly voice. "If you don't hear us out, we'll remove you from Hogwarts. We are your legal guardians. Now. Sit. Down. And. Listen."

"Colloportus!" muttered Evelyn, waving her wand to lock to door. Her parents turned to her. Her mother spoke first. "Scarlett, we love you. Don't you understand that we left to protect you?"

Scarlett took a new approach. She gave them the cold shoulder. Stone silent. It might've been a relief to them now, but later she would simply ignore them. She would listen but not respond. Scarlett knew this technique was infuriating, which was just how she wanted it to be.

"There are dangerous people in this world Scarlett," continued her father, as if her parents had been scripting the whole talk. "I haven't told you this, but the Adens are tremendously wealthy. They've made enemies and people could go after you and hurt you to ransom for our fortune. It's dangerous. I left to protect you, and keeping you in the dark could do you good, so you could grow up normal."

She said nothing.

"I decided to go and find your father after around two months. I broke out and found him after a long search. We re-convened and travelled the world. We stopped a few harmful people." Her mother gave a small smile, directed at no one in particular. Scarlett had been disgusted at the 'travel-the-world' part. What sort of parents would go and explore the world when they had just destroyed their child's life? But Scarlett stayed silent, her eyes glaring at her mother and father with such ferocity that they visibly winced.

"Me and your mother both agreed that we would return when you had turned thirteen, so you could cope with the news better. Scarlett, don't you understand? We did all this to keep you safe," said her father. "Sadly, the vacancy cut a hole in our reputation. We slowly returned to the local area when you were at school, and we found that no one remembered the Adens anymore. We did some more digging and found that we were barely known."

"The Fultons remained as well-known as ever," said Evelyn haughtily. "But still, not that much."

"Anyway," her father said. "We've fended off dangerous people. They know not to mess with us. We'll fly back up to the top of the pure-blood rankings and we'll intimidate those people even more. We will get our reputation back."

"Your father and I have made some plans," confessed her mother. "It's been a while, but we're going to attend the Beckett New Year's Gala, and hopefully people will recognise us."

Scarlett sat up straighter at the word Beckett. Fuck no. It couldn't be - could it? Beckett as in - as in -

"I heard Oliver Beckett and Athena Beckett haven't been seen in public for months now," remarked her father. "I believe their child Anastasia is hosting it this year. I saw her some years ago. Lovely little girl. I heard she goes to Hogwarts. Do you know her Scarlett?"

Scarlett's eyes had become fire. She leapt to her feet, irises burning as she glared at her family. "Lovely little girl indeed," snarled Scarlett. "I will not - I will not - go to the Beckett Gala, no matter what you say."

Evelyn stared at Scarlett coolly. "Perhaps you'll be more convinced if we take away your schooling at Hogwarts. It's a simple matter to move to America, you know."

Scarlett was speechless. They dare threaten her with her schooling, they dare threaten to take away what she loved most? What fucking lovely parents. Scarlett didn't say anything in return. She whipped out her wand and said, "Alohomora," and strode outside, slamming the door shut as hard as she could. She knew that in close proximity to adult pure-bloods, the Ministry couldn't technically track the spell to one individual.

Scarlett had many thoughts racing through her mind, but she didn't stop to process them. Instead, she shouted, "I hate you two!" before storming outside and forcefully swinging the front door open, slamming it behind her. She heard a wall crack and clenched her fists in satisfaction, odd as it were.

Fiona looked her in the eyes. "I'm not going to ask how it went. I know I hate them too. Come on," she said, gentler now. "Let's get you back to Hogwarts."

And that was the end of her disastrous reunion with her parents. Scarlett felt that it was a terrible way to start her birthday week.

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