[i]Hannah[/i] - [u]The Red Fox[/u]

[i][color=662d91]I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.[/color][/i]

With a dry smirk and a soft patting of a heavier book on the inside of her robe's pocket, the sixth year student walked into the great hall with the remaining mass of students. In the crowd, she was invisible. The sort of invisibility that she enjoyed, anonymity perhaps even to an extent. Day one's work was already complete, tonight was a matter of delivery and securing payment. 

With the mild touch of a square of paper, somewhere on the train on the way to the school, one of her clients had written a name. A name that she was to retrieve, and a price offer to go with it. 

Five hundred galleons was an offer she couldn't refuse.

A cunning smirk that never faded as she nonchalantly sauntered into the great hall for the great feast with the remainder of the students. It was amazing to her, the lack of security that was in the Library on the first day, yet then again it made sense. The entirety of the student body was supposed to be converging on the great hall. There was supposed to be not an inkling of thieving risks. 

Sitting down at the table as the First Years started to be crowded into the line that was to decide their fate, the Sixth Year student watched them from the corner of her eye. Looking, naturally, for the traits that were ingrained into her usual customer. Fine clothing and robes that were obviously expensive as a show of status, and a passive arrogance that seemed always present. 

More often than not, her clients tended to be Slytherins. With the speckling of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Rarely if ever, was there a Hufflepuff. Perhaps too humble for their own good or something ridiculous of the sort.

Speaking of ridiculous however, there was the matter of the zealous pride of Gryffindors as a display of their zealotry in concerns athleticism ([color=662d91][i]Even while going to a spectacular school, how sad.[/i][/color]) came on display. With a prideful chant that made her eyes roll, it was not as if she could expect any different. It was that very same pride that she took advantage of from time to time, retrieving forbidden texts for a profit. Then again, Gryffindor was the only house that tried to betray her once. So with caution was how she treated those of the Crimson and Gold ilk. 

Noble in the physical arts they might have been.

Yet in the game of shadows and wits, they fared poorly.  

Such an attempted betrayal came at a heavy cost. 

After that, there was not a single betrayal as rumors spread through the school like wildfire. Some students, probably working for the faculty or prefects promptly threw away their contact notes or tore them to pieces. For them, there was no penalty. 

The option to stop being a client of hers was always open. So ceasing contact was perfectly reasonable. Betrayal however, was not. 

Slipping one hand into the breadth of her sleeve and subtly taking hold of her wand, Hannah easily devised a plan by which to take care of the prideful idiots chanting with their nonsense and drivel. A softly murmured incantation beneath her breadth would go unnoticed by the prideful roar, and a subtle hand would triumph over the most brash as suddenly the scarves of crimson and gold burst into flame.

Within seconds, they were little more than ashes. Of which they were suddenly replaced with scarves of the other three houses as they were whisked off the necks of three students to wrap themselves about the cup. Instead of the sinful pride of crimson and gold, the cup was covered in the colors of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. 

Idly, she simply folded her hands one over the other, waiting for the sorting to finish so that she might continue onward with her business, after the Feast that is.