Scarlet had grown accustomed to her life in Hogwarts.
Her day started with an hour of training in her private training room, located not far from the Hufflepuff dorm - just a few flights of stairs to climb. She began at six in the morning, followed by breakfast in the Great Hall at eight, where she sorted through the letters delivered by owls. Oh, how she wished Hogwarts had Wi-Fi and the internet, she could handle everything so much faster on a laptop.
Ron had completed and submitted his questionnaire, securing his pocket money. Besides Ron and Neville, Scarlet handed out a few more questionnaires, steadily building her list of “paid assistants” through conversations. Neville, despite his timidity and forgetfulness, was doing a great job.
After breakfast, she attended classes, finished her homework, and dealt with her business affairs during her free periods. Evenings were spent studying her Muggle textbooks until dinner. She enjoyed light conversations with her friends and housemates during dinner and after meals, and later, she returned to her training room until nearly ten at night. Sometimes she trained, other times she spent part of the time drafting her novel, but she always finished her days by reading the news summaries. Finally, she’d return to her dorm, take a shower, and head to bed.
Her weekends were entirely dedicated to studying high school subjects which she planned to take exams for during school breaks, with morning and evening training sessions as usual. Others would be shocked if they knew about her physical training, but for now, only the professors and the Weasley twins were aware of it. Hermione might have suspected, but not just yet. For now, her friends and classmates all believed she had a quiet room specially reserved for writing her books on peace and confidentially. Her fans eagerly awaited her next book, especially Justin and Maya.
“Wow, you have such a full and busy schedule,” Amelia remarked as the three of them had their usual pillow talk before bed, “I can’t imagine keeping up with all of that.”
“I think it’s fine. Not that busy, really,” Scarlet replied, mentally reviewing her schedule. “If I skipped reading the news, I’d actually have more free time.”
“What kind of news are you reading, anyway?” Amalia asked, curious. “I’ve seen Muggle newspaper before – they look so dull. The pictures don’t even move!”
“If you mean Muggle news, I mainly focus on the latest technology and government updates, both local and international. It helps with my investments.” Scarlet’s thoughts raced, when will the internet and Wi-Fi become widespread? What about those new startups focusing on tech - when will they take off? Oh, and flash drives! If I can invest early, the returns could go towards funding R&D for plastic waste problems. She remembered how damaging plastic was to the environment, yet there hadn’t been much funding for it because solutions were too tedious and weren’t seen as profitable.
Scarlet continued, “As for wizarding news, I just like to keep an eye on the trends so I’m not completely in the dark.”
In truth, most of the Ministry’s news seemed like a farce to her, full of cover-ups and only promoting the good stuff. The fashion trends baffled her, and she wasn’t really a fan of them. But at least she stayed informed.
Amelia and Maya shared details about their days at Hogwarts, too.
Amelia was more interested in fashion, crafting trinkets and accessories that she’d wear proudly. Her creations attracted other girls with similar tastes from all four Houses. Of course, every time Gryffindors and Slytherins were involved, they’d end up sneering at each other, often leading to intense arguments that would draw the attention of any passing professor. But Amelia enjoyed it all the same.
Maya, on the other hand, was a bookworm – specifically a lover of novels. She devoured adventure stories and love tales, whether written by Muggles or wizard. She had her own group of book enthusiasts, sharing novels and thus, spreading Scarlet’s name across the school. Scarlet even gained a subtle fan in Slytherin, who shyly asked for her autograph when no one was around.
Occasionally, Hermione would meet up with Scarlet in the library to vent about the silly things boys had done, especially Harry and Ron – though Neville was always excluded from these complaints, as he’d been a very responsible assistant and hadn’t joined in on the boys’ mischief. Neville could have quit being Scarlet’s assistant by now, having earned enough money for his new tool: a custom-made wristwatch from the Weasley twins that recorded reminders, compared his schedule and outfit with others, and even reminded him to bring his dragon-hide gloves for Potions, even when he forgot to ask. A great saviour for him.
When Scarlet asked why he hadn’t stopped working for her, Neville replied confidently, “I think I can learn more by helping you. You always give me such incredible insight. It’s worth more than Galleons.”
“Well, I’m glad to be of help.” Scarlet patted his shoulder with a smile.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but there were still three things on her mind - three issues she wasn’t sure she should get involved in: Ron’s rat, the soul fragments in Harry’s forehead, and the soul fragments attached to Professor Quirrell’s head.
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She rented Ron’s rat for a week, which Ron happily agreed to - he seemed like he’d prefer a different pet if given the chance. She kept detailed observation notes, writing in the language from her previous life to ensure no one, especially the rat, could understand. She suspected the rat might try to escape the cage and sneak a look at her records.
Her observations didn’t focus on the rat’s physical appearance - though that one missing finger was noticed - but on its soul. That she saw was filthy – there was hardly any bravery or justice in it. Instead, the soul radiated cunning, low self-esteem, and occasionally, sneered at her, as if he knew that if he had power, it would exploit others. It was not the soul of a good person from any perspective. Dark in hue, almost black, with greyish spots, the soul’s aura left her unsettled.
Unsure of what to do next, she was lost in thought until she overheard a conversation about those who had been awarded the Order of Merlin. Professor Dumbledore had received it for defeating Grindelwald in 1945; Newt Scamander had been awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class, for his work in Magizoology and for writing Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
“And Peter Pettigrew, posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, ten years ago because he confronted Sirius Black and was killed along with twelve Muggles during the incident. Only one of his fingers was left.”
One finger?
Scarlet’s ears perked up. Turning toward the students chatting nearby, she politely interrupted, “Sorry to disturb you, seniors, but could you repeat that? The one awarded the Order of Merlin?”
“Sure!” they replied.
Quickly, Scarlet scribbled down the name, thanked her seniors, and hurried toward the Gryffindor table. She grabbed Ron’s robe, her mind racing. “How long have your family had your pet rat?”
Ron blinked in confusion but answered anyway. “Almost ten years. A bit more than nine, I reckon. Why?”
“Nothing, just needed to confirm that for my notes,” Scarlet replied, patting his shoulder before hurrying off. “Thanks, Ron!”
She made a beeline for the library and headed straight to the Books for Record. She found the section with Hogwarts yearbook section and started counting back the years. After some flipping, she found it: Peter Pettigrew.
He looked younger in the photos, much cheerier with other students around, one of them looked amazing similar to Harry. But there was no mistaking it – the soul hiding in Ron’s rat matched this image.
Awarded for confronting Sirius Black, a follower of the mighty dark wizard, and dying a hero, huh? Scarlet thought to herself, well, he’s alive. And since he’s hiding, maybe...maybe Sirius Black was framed? Could he be innocent?
The gravity of the situation weighed on her. I should report this to someone – Pettigrew is dangerous, and an innocent man might be in prison because of him...but how? I can’t just march up to the Ministry and say the rat is the true culprit...
She didn’t trust them with their ridiculous regulations.
Could she rely on Professor Dumbledore? Should I take that risk?
“Hermione, dear,” she said, finding Hermione tucked away in a corner of the library. “Do you know any spell that can turn a human into an animal?”
“Temporary or long term?” Hermione asked, glancing up from her book.
“For the long term.”
Hermione thought for a moment before replying, “You’re probably thinking of the Animagus Transformation. Transfiguring a human into an animal only works temporarily. An Animagus, on the other hand, is a witch or wizard who can transform into an animal and back again at will. It’s a skill you can learn through a sort of ritual process. Professor McGonagall is one of the registered Animagi. Why do you ask? Are you thinking of becoming one?”
“No, just...looking into something.” Scarlet replied. In truth, her role as a priestess of the Queen granted her the ability to transform into a bear - an ability more akin to that of a traditional Druid than a Animagus. In fact, she should probably be called a Druid rather than a priestess if she skilled in magic and ancient wisdom, but the Queen didn’t mind the title, as long as Scarlet served her purpose.
“Thanks, Hermione. See you later.”
“Wait, Scarlet...” Hermione called out, but Scarlet had already hurried away, heading toward her training room for some quiet space to think.
To her surprise, the Weasley Twins were there, jumping and cheering, clearly celebrating something.
“Hi brothers. What are you so excited about?” Scarlet asked, considering whether she needed to find another place to contemplate her dilemma.
“The quill, Milady!” the twins chorused, presenting her with a delicate quill.
“Endless ink,” Fred explained, “You can store any colour you want in the feather, and switch between them by pinching the coloured part.”
“The quill can capture any colour you see,” George added, “Just point the nib at the colour and say the magic word ‘capture’.”
“It has a voice-to-text function, mimicking your writing style while correcting any mistakes.”
“And the nib is changeable!” George said enthusiastically. “You can imagine any type of nib you want, and the quill will take that shape. Whether you need a broad stroke or a fine line – it'll do it! And--”
The twins finished their pitch in unison, “--it looks pretty! You can pin it in your hair or on a hat!”
Scarlet couldn’t help but smile with amusement as she looked at the quill in her hand. “It certainly pretty,” she agreed.
“And it can even give you suggestions if you’re stuck while writing.” George added.
“You mean I can...chat with it?” Scarlet asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly!” Fred grinned. “It responds to questions, but be warned - it starts giving dumb replies if you ask too much. We’re working on that part.”
Well, isn’t this just like the chatbot AI engineers are dreaming of creating? Scarlet mused, her lips curving into a wry grin, “Thanks! Here’s the other half of the payment.”
The twins accepted the pouch of Galleons with eager smiles.
“Oh, by the way,” Fred asked, “why are you here so early? You seem worried - those frowning brows say it all. Anything we can help with?”
“I’m not sure...” Scarlet replied, glancing between the twins. After a brief pause, she asked, “Do you trust Professor Dumbledore?”
“Of course we do! Why?” George asked, his curiosity piqued.
Scarlet’s lips twisted into a slight frown. “Because I have something really important...something I think only he can handle. I don’t think the Ministry of Magic is reliable enough for this.”
The twins exchanged a serious glance before gesturing for her to sit down. “Scarlet, let’s have a talk,” George said, his usual playful tone replaced by a more thoughtful one.