Amarantha was most definitely not expecting to be named Head Girl, nor did she think she even wanted the position, and yet she still rolled her eyes and made a slightly sour face when it was given to the most prissy, goody-two-shoes Gryffindor they could possibly find in the whole school. At least the new batch of Slytherin Prefects seemed promising, not that she knew much about the students two years below her. What she was most interested in was the sorting as she had four family members starting today and the first was her baby sister, Hyacinth; she still couldn’t believe that colicky little brat was eleven already.

She frowned slightly as even from a distance, Hyacinth didn’t look to be doing too well; she was far paler than she usually was and it seemed she was a tad wobbly on her seat, but she supposed it could just be the nerves; Amarantha thought back to her sorting and she watched as the boy after her got sick on his shoes before stepping up to the hat. But that frown turned into a look of pride and superiority as the hat called out ‘Slytherin’ and she couldn’t help but smirk over at Isobel over at the Gryffindor table as if they were somehow in some competition on who got each of the four girls. She couldn’t wait to guide her darling little sister over the coming school year and show her what Slytherin could offer her if she knew where to look.

But pride turned to horror as she watched her sister hit the floor and even worse when before Amarantha could get up out of her seat to go to her, that little mudblood that her Great-Grandfather had escorted in Diagon Alley last month ran to Hyacinth and put his hands on her. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at the boy as she moved closer to them in the gap between the two tables, “Get your filthy mudblood hands off of my sister, boy. She doesn’t need help from you.”