Gossips about the new transfer girl spread through Hogwarts within just a few days.

First, there were whispers about her strange accent and way of speaking, followed by talk of her light-hearted and joking attitude, which fit right in with the prank-loving twins. Then came the rumours about her poor class performance – her homework riddled with red ink, especially her Potions assignments. There was even a story circulating that she had cried, “He’s not my idol anymore,” after Professor Snape tore into her work; everyone was shocked that she’d ever considered the gloomy bat her idol. But the latest gossip?

“She’s got a crush on Cedric, our third-year senior.”

“...What?” Scarlet blinked, momentarily thrown.

Amelia, thinking the innocent ginger-haired girl – who had no interest in school romance - didn’t understand, repeated her words with more flair. “Alexis Everhart, the American fashionista, has a crush on Cedric. She’s trying her best to be his girlfriend, writing him love letters and even composing love songs.”

“Her songs aren’t bad,” Maya chimed in, “but her writing is awful – grammar mistakes, spellings error, and her handwriting is a disaster.”

“...How do you know all that?” Scarlet asked, both dumbfounded and intrigued.

“She asked for help with her love letters after Cedric rejected the first one,” Maya explained, gesturing animatedly. "Apparently, our reading club was happy to lend a hand. Cedric returned her letter with corrections marked in red ink. You can imagine how much red there was. She looked like she was about to cry when she got it back, and Cedric seemed just as uncomfortable. Poor guy, probably the first time he’s had to reject someone who’s only known him for a few days.”

“She’s a bold one,” Amelia remarked, sounding impressed. “I’m starting to respect her.”

“And she has good taste,” Maya added. “Cedric’s such a nice boy. Everybody likes him. He’s like the charming prince from a fairy tale.”

Scarlet recalled her own encounters with Cedric – always helpful, always friendly – and nodded. “He’s definitely a good senior. I wouldn’t be surprised if he became a prefect.”

There was a knock at the door. It was Hannah with a message. “Scarlet, Potter and Weasley are looking for you. They’re still in the Great Hall.”

“Thanks.” Scarlet replied, wondering what this was about. When she met up with Harry and Ron, they hurriedly dragged her to a conner where no one could overhear. Harry, looking both anxious and excited, whispered, “I found a mirror! I can see my parents in it!”

“But I didn’t see his parents,” Ron cut in. “I saw myself as Head boy, holding the Quidditch Cup. I was Quidditch Captain! Do you think it shows the future?”

“What’s so interesting about that? My parents are what matters!” Harry hissed. “I’m going back to the mirror tonight.”

“Mate, seriously?” Ron shook his head. “I’ve got a bad feeling about it. Don’t go. Scarlet will tell you the same.”

“Scarlet.” Harry turned to her, looking hesitant but hopeful. “You’re with me, right?”

Scarlet thought for a moment. “From what you’ve described, it sounds like the mirror shows you whatever you desire the most.”

Both the boys stared at her, clearly confused.

She continued to explain, “It means that it doesn’t show the truth, just an imagined reality – something you deeply wish for. For example, a girl who’s insecure about her appearance might see herself as the most beautiful person in the world.”

She turned to Ron. “So, Ron, if you want to be Quidditch Captain and Head Boy, you’d better start working hard to make that dream come true.”

Then, she looked at Harry, who seemed deflated. “Harry, I know how much you want to see your parents, to have a complete family. You can look into the mirror, but don’t get lost in that feeling, alright? It’s a beautiful illusion, so beautiful that it can pull you in. The more you visit the mirror, the deeper you’ll sink into that illusion - and you might lose yourself in it.”

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“I-I-but...” Harry stammered. He knew Scarlet was right. She was always right and gave the best advice, but...those were his parents.

“How about this,” Scarlet sighed. “I’ll go with you tonight, and this will be your last time. Tomorrow, I’ll report the mirror to Professor Dumbledore or Professor Sprout, and they’ll make sure it’s kept somewhere safe – somewhere no one can access. Does that sound okay?”

Harry, looking defeated but understanding, nodded, “Alright. I’ll meet you here.”

“No, meet me in my training room,” Scarlet instructed. “Fred and George know where it is. Ask them to bring, or they can tell you the way. I’ll be waiting there.”

“Okay.”

Later that night, when Scarlet went for her training, she found not only Harry there, but Fred, George, and Ron as well.

“I get why Fred and George are here - this is their workshop as well,” Scarlet remarked, eyeing the two younger boys. “Harry’s here to meet me. But, Ron, what are you doing here? Don’t you have other things to do?”

“Hey, it’s not fair that I’m the only one left out!” Ron protested, his chin up defiantly.

“So now Percy’s the one left out, is he? And what about Hermione?” Scarlet rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“If Percy were here, then this would be the secret Weasley base - the ginger kingdom!” Fred declared with dramatic flair.

“Milady, lurking in the shadows of the Hogwarts, secretly teaming up the Weasleys to fight off the strong!” George chimed in, spinning an elaborate tale. “Sounds like the plot for your next book!”

“No, I’m thinking of writing something cyberpunk now,” Scarlet replied, sighing.

Harry giggled, while the Weasleys exchanged puzzled looks, not knowing what “cyberpunk” was or why it amused Harry.

“Harry, Ron, take a seat,” Scarlet instructed as she began stretching her arms, walking toward the centre of the vast room. “Fred, George, grab your swords and get ready.”

“As you wish, milady,” the twins responded in unison.

Ever since the twins had become her training partners - using their Quidditch skills to send Bludgers flying at her as part of her dodging practice – they had been eager for more challenges. One day, they each found a large sword somewhere in the castle and asked her for sword training. Not just any swords, but greatswords that required two hands to wield properly.

“Because swinging swords looks so cool!” they had exclaimed, stubbornly refusing to switch to the lighter one-handed longswords she’d suggested.

Though their physical skills were decent, they struggled to control the massive greatswords. Usually, Scarlet went easy on them. But tonight, it was clear she had no intention of holding back.

“On guard!” Scarlet shouted as she easily blocked Fred’s shaky slash. “Grip the sword tight! Did you waste all your dinner?”

Twisting her waist while keeping her feet planted, she spun just in time to thrust her spear at George’s leg as he tried to sneak up from behind. “Footwork! Agility! Have you turned into a turtle since getting off your broom?”

“Use your waist!” she barked.

“Stay grounded! Your lower body’s a mess!”

“Block my thrust! If I were serious, you’d be dead by now.”

Harry and Ron stood frozen, watching Scarlet thrash the twins with blank expressions. In their eyes, Fred and George had always been the energetic, physically fit Beaters of the Quidditch team – strong, agile, and seemingly unstoppable. Yet here was Scarlet, a quiet and wise girl a full foot shorter than the twins, swinging a spear effortlessly and barking orders like a harsh coach. She dominated the fight, leaving the twins no chance to gain the upper hand.

After an hour of teaching (or rather, beating), Scarlet finally withdrew her spear into a low wing stance, signalling that their session was over. Fred and George collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air, drenched in sweat as if they’d just swum across the Black Lake.

“Told you to start with the longswords,” Scarlet said, rolling her eyes. “You don’t have the muscle for a greatsword yet.”

“We-we’re just training...” Fred gasped.

“...to l-look cool, not...planning to f-fight anyone...” George added between heavy breaths.

“Shut up and focus on your breathing,” Scarlet said, checking her pocket watch. “It’s about time. Ron, take care of your brothers. I’ll be quick. Harry, let’s go.”

“Whe-where are you going?” Fred managed to ask.

“Just stay there and don’t give me a reason to knock you both unconscious.”

As Harry put on his invisibility cloak and Scarlet strode out in her battle gear, Ron knelt beside his brothers, glancing at them. “She’s joking about the unconscious thing, right?”

“No, sh-she's serious,” Fred panted, wincing. “Oh, my leg...”

“Oh, my shoulder...” George groaned, equally in pain. “Ronny, be a good brother and get us the yellow paste from the desk.”

“Wow, you’re covered in bruises,” Ron said, amazed, watching them apply the yellow paste to their injuries. “Is she mad?”

“No,” Fred muttered. “She’s just doing her best to stop us from following her.”

“What?” Ron looked confused for a moment before the realisation hit him. “Oh, that’s why...”

“Oh, little Ronniekins, you’re still such an innocent boy,” Fred teased, though weakly.

“Stop calling me that!”