I don't own Harry Potter. I just own this story.

I was inspired by the title of the first Sherlock Holmes story, and I hope you enjoy this.

Please let me know what you think.

A Study in Scarlett.

Basic McCoy.

As she dropped the crushed sleeping pills in the glasses of wine and coke, Scarlett hoped this plan worked the way she wanted, because if it failed the consequences would be severe. She looked around the kitchen, at the mess caused by the dinner she had cooked for her relatives, the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley were in the living room, laughing at whatever was on the TV. As a bonus she could hear Aunt Marge yelling her own laughs; Scarlett had no idea what was so funny, but she knew she had to finish up quickly otherwise one of the Dursleys would be coming in to investigate.

Once the last crushed sleeping pill was inside the final glass, Scarlett swirled it around in the wine glass for a few minutes, wondering how long it would be before the dust dissolved in the glasses.

"Hurry up, Girl!" Marge screamed from the living room. The shout alone made Scarlett's jaw clench.

Scarlett picked up the glasses and took them into the living room, moving slowly so then Marge's disgusting dog Ripper didn't notice her and charge on his bitch of a mistress' command. Scarlett often wondered if the woman who wasn't even really her aunt since she was Vernon's sister had a dog business at all since the only dog she had ever brought with her had been Ripper, but to be honest Scarlett didn't care because after tonight she wouldn't have to worry about the fat bitch ever again.

"About time, Girl!" Vernon snapped, taking his wine glass without a thank you. Scarlett wasn't offended, she had long since become used to the Dursley's rudeness. In defiance, she had adopted a polite demeanour. It was either that or become as rude, and as twisted as they were.

Once Scarlett had handed over the glasses of wine and coke to Dudley, Petunia, and Marge respectfully, she retreated to the kitchen where she got some water, also with some crushed sleeping pills for Ripper before she went back and started on the washing up to give herself something to do while the sleeping pills did their work.

The sleeping pills got to work quickly when she heard the sounds from the TV loud and clear, but the sounds coming from the Dursleys started to fade until there was nothing but silence except for the sound of snores which slowly started up and became louder with every second. Scarlett lifted her head and moved closer to the threshold between the kitchen and the living room to hear better. Then she heard the sound of a glass falling to the floor.

Scarlett clapped a hand to her mouth and she restrained the urge to squeal with joy, and she walked slowly out of the kitchen and into the living area. The snores coming from Dudley, Vernon and Marge combined were enough to wake the dead, and she could definitely see them fast asleep.

Scarlett chuckled, but then she gasped in horror when she saw Ripper lumbering into view from behind the couch. The dog growled when their eyes met and Scarlett rushed back into the kitchen, and Ripper barked angrily as he chased after the girl. Scarlett had the headstart, but Ripper was fast on his feet. The moment she got into the kitchen the girl looked for anything she could use as a weapon, and she found the heavy pot she'd used to cook the last meal of the Dursley family.

She thought it was appropriate. She grabbed it quickly, gasping at the weight which never failed to make her breathless, and she waited for Ripper to come in, which he quickly did.

Ripper growled and charged her, and Scarlett had to fight down the urge to turn around and rush out herself, but the moment the dog came close she dropped the pan on the dog's head. Ripper squealed in pain as the pan suddenly dropped down on his head, the weight alone managing to concuss him. Scarlett didn't give the dog the chance to recover, she bent down and picked up the pan and smashed it down on the dog's head. The dog tried to get away, but she kept smashing Ripper's head in. Blood was beginning to appear from a wound on the top of Ripper's head, but Scarlett didn't let up - she loved animals, but like everything the Dursleys had in their possession, everything they owned turned rotten as if the family themselves carried an infectious, contagious disease.

The pan was heavy in her hands and Ripper was making gasping, wheezing noises as blood was pooling on the kitchen floor from where she had dropped the pan on his head, but she didn't let up.

However, she caught the dog's eyes peering up at her, begging for mercy. For a moment she almost gave in, feeling the dog had had enough, but then Scarlett reminded herself of everything this dog had done.

How he had bitten her leg and giving her a nasty looking scar which the Dursleys had never really treated for her, she remembered hearing Marge and Dudley's laughter as she was chased into the garden. She remembered all the times the filthy mutt had threatened her, and she felt her anger grow and give her the strength she needed to carry on. She lifted the pan again and smashed it down hard on the dog's neck, and there was a dreadful sound which came from Ripper's mouth but it was mixed with the sound of something crunching underneath. Scarlett dropped the pan when she saw Ripper's head lying at an unnatural angle, and she fell onto her backside and watched the now dead Ripper. She felt some stirring of pity and shame for what she had done; she wished Ripper had been raised right, and not raised by Marge to be a weapon against those whom she disliked, like small children whom she and her brother detested for reasons which made no sense.

It was academic now. Ripper was dead, but she still had to finish this. She clambered up using the kitchen cupboards to find purchase as she stood shakily up, trying valiantly not to look down at the dog whom she had just killed. She knew she would have to finish everything she had started, but she wasn't looking forward to it, still, she had little choice.

She realised her hands were starting to shake and that her breathing itself was shaky.

Definitely not like the movies, Scarlett thought to herself as she tried to get a grip over herself. She even went to the rack and grabbed a cup and turned on the tap to give her some water to at least steady her nerves. It took Scarlett a few minutes to calm down, but even with the water, the sheer scale of what she had done weighed heavily on her mind. Scarlett took slow, steady breaths, and she saw the knife she had prepared earlier waiting for her. She wasn't sure, but Scarlett could almost hear it calling for her, to be used.

When she had come up with the plan to escape, Scarlett had taken her inspirations from the movie Basic Instinct (in her mind it was one of the greatest films out there, and she had spent weeks practicing Sharon Stones' character to the letter; okay the scene where she crossed and uncrossed her legs was beyond her comprehension, but she guessed she would get there in the end), which she had watched at Mrs Figg's place when the Dursleys had been away.

The opening scene of the movie…. how Catherine Tremell had plunged the ice pick into that man's chest…it had stuck with her. And after another beating from the Dursleys, and the mental abuse she regularly suffered, Scarlett had thought why not?

At the same time, she had watched The Real McCoy, To Catch a Thief, and Marnie. All of those movies had shaped Scarlett's perception of life, and death.

Scarlett had no trouble shoplifting the sleeping pills. She had gone with Mrs Figg into town, and she had simply taken them and kept them inside her cupboard. The Dursleys never expended the effort to search it, and she knew there were dozens of places to hide something safely without it being found. After that, she had waited for the right opportunity. She would need to crush and grind down the pills and then deliver them to the Dursleys without them knowing, and she had waited for months before she had learnt Aunt Marge was coming around.

That was when she had struck gold.

The Dursleys always went out of their way to welcome the woman, giving her lavish feasts (prepared by Scarlett, of course; how else should a freak earn her keep), and it was the perfect opportunity.

Scarlett closed her eyes. She had been preparing for this moment for months, but now it was about to happen….

She had lost the nerve. Killing Ripper had shattered her resolve. She could easily just stop what she was doing, and hope the Dursleys wouldn't kill her…

But they would. Petunia would raise all kinds of hell over the mess in her lovely kitchen, which she didn't really expend much time cleaning herself since Scarlett was the personal maid/slave of the family, and Vernon would be on his sister's side. Scarlett thought about everything the Dursleys had done to her, and she took a deep breath as she accepted the truth. She couldn't leave the house only for them to find her again. She needed to escape and cover her tracks. Scarlett took another deep breath, and walked over to the knife. She picked it up, and she left the kitchen.

She paused as she took in the scene. Petunia was the only one sleeping peacefully; her son, husband, and her sister-in-law were snoring like there was no tomorrow. She closed her eyes. She moved quickly, she gently pressed the cold blade of the knife against her aunt's thin, long ostrich-like neck, and slashed it. Arterial blood sprayed everywhere, some of it even getting onto Scarlett.

The girl gaped, but she felt something….wonderful about her actions.

Hoping to feel that euphoria again, she crossed over to where Aunt Marge was snoozing away. Scarlett had to move her massive barrel of a head to the side so she could slash the woman's fat neck, and she pressed the large knife deeply into the throat before she slashed the throat. This time the sounds from Aunt Marge changed from a deep rumbling snore to a choking, gasping, gurgling sound as the blood came out of her throat, although there was no arterial spray.

Scarlett then turned to Dudley. Out of all of them, this was the hardest since Dudley was her age, but she knew she would have no alternative but to kill him given she could not leave any witnesses behind. She tilted his head back and slashed his throat, feeling the same euphoria as she murdered him.

The worst of them all, Uncle Vernon, the man who had taken to verbally cursing her and her drunk bastard parents. Scarlett was almost positive everything the Dursleys had said about them was a lie, but with no way of proving them wrong, she had little choice but to accept what they said. She stared at Vernon for the longest time even as Dudley, Petunia, and Marge, his entire family, were cooling near him and he didn't even know it. Scarlett lifted her hands to arrange Vernon's posture so she could deliver the blow, but she found she wanted this one to be different - Scarlett would later guess it was because of the abuse she had endured at Vernon's hands, but at the time she decided it made little difference to her. She walked around the couch and she took one look at her massive and obese uncle, whose hands which had done so much to her over the last few years of her short life.

She plunged the knife into his chest, and then she slashed his throat. She plunged the knife again and again into Vernon's chest, remembering all the times this man had beaten her, cursed her, and humiliated her. After slashing and stabbing the dead man more than once, Scarlett stopped, and she dropped the knife on the floor.

She had to clean herself up, take anything she felt could help her, and get out of Little Whinging. Hopefully, by the time the police themselves arrived, she would be gone.