Rise of the Death Eaters [3]

Chapter 2: Socialites and Horseback Riding

*Long Chapter. Heads up*

It was a warm summer morning in the first week of July and I was already sick of being home. Theo had been right; this place was for the dogs ever since our friends went away. But I guess that was expected once we all turned 14.

When wealthy families had children old enough to be involved in their social scene, they are pushed to travel as much as they can, making friendly calls, meeting with children from their parent's connections, and taking up extra courses abroad if you were inept socially. Anything to boost your character.

Then the moment I got home, Theo pulled an invite out from under me and sped off to visit Xander in Switzerland for the fourth of July week, leaving me all alone

in this massive house with only my parents and cat for company. Even Rosalie was gone, visiting her grandmother in Connecticut. I was tempted to do the same and visit grand'mère, except that she had been rather frail since that fall in June. It was best not to exert her.

So, what was I up to?

Reading the newspaper outside by my mother's newly installed fountain in her rose garden. Ever since Diggory's death, I was irked to keep track of what was happening, in case something suspicious came up. But nothing ever did, at least, not in the American newspapers.

In fact, the only news about the British were jabs at the British prime minister for causing such a scandal between a school headmaster and a student. Harry Potter of course. Though they never explained why Dumbledore and Fudge were fighting. At least, not into detail with Cedric Diggory. His death never graced the papers. The only focus the American papers seemed to have were on our new president elect, and how he was doing a terrible job keeping jobs secure in MACUSA. And on money. Always on money.

Since money was the least of my problems and MACUSA had nothing to do with me, I found the news dull. I turned the page to a perfume ad which wasn't much better.

"Mon Ange, if you sit out here much longer you will burn," my mother announced as she walked toward me in her usual lazy elegant way. She was wearing a summer dress of Cinderella blue that showed her smooth shoulders. A line of simple pearls was clasped around her neck and pearl studs decorated her ears. Her hair was down for a change, in loose ringlets that circled her face like a halo and her eyes were sharp, watching me like a hawk.

For a woman in her early fifties, she looked amazing. But this was old news to Ava, who had long ago accepted that she would never be as graceful as her mother. No matter how many years she studied at Beauxbatons, some graces people were born with, not learned.

"I don't burn, Mamen. I golden. Besides, it's only mid-morning and I've only just sat down." My mother scoffed gently before joining me.

"The last thing I need is my daughter entering the sailing club all pink like a lobster- "

"Sailing club? You're not making me go to that, are you?" I asked, uncharacteristically lazy for a change. My mother matched my stare, giving me my answer.

"Couldn't you just tell people I'm still in the Netherlands or something? It's not like the rest of us are here anyway, people will believe you."

"And have me go to that event alone? Absolutely not. You will come with me and you will like it," My mother said in a final tone. I huffed in defeat and closed my newspaper. There goes my self-care day.

"There is someone I want you to meet," my mother informed me with a sly smile that I didn't like seeing.

"Who?"

"Do you remember the editor of Witch Weekly's daughter? Charlotte, I believe is her name."

"Yes, I remember. But I haven't seen her since I was eight." My mother waved the number away as if it were a spare fly.