Draco stopped in his tracks. A shiver had gone up his spine. Was he going mad? No. He shook himself. He was not seeing ghosts this far from the Wizarding World and he most certainly was not going mad.
Draco Malfoy was leaving a local muggle pub, the stars high in the sky, when he saw her, with an armload of supplies heading the opposite direction. Malfoy spied a thin, carved piece of wood in a leather pouch buckled round her calf. Noticing the wand, he quickly darted into an alley and put a disillusionment charm on himself. Coming out of the alley, he saw a ruffle of skirt disappear in between rows of corn. He stalked on, all too aware of the squelching sounds his boots made in the mud. Following her over some rolling pasture and through a thicket of trees, he found she had led him to a small cottage.
Draco watched from within the tall, tawny grasses as the woman walked right into the shack. It was threadbare, looking as though the slightest gush of dry air could kindle a fire. From what he could see, the shack was one room. Earthen floors and bare, wooden walls set off the worn wooden table. There was a large bed with an ornate wooden headboard. Intricate carvings had been slashed through with what he perceived as a zealous dispassion.
The tall woman walked about, setting a bottle of rum down on the table. She moved to the bed, seating herself down on the edge. She bent down and arching her spine, she fell down onto her back and closed her eyes. Sitting upright several moments later, she pulled off the light peasant top and tossed it aside. Draco felt now he was most definitely trespassing yet could not turn and leave. The woman was looked strong, with tangled strawberry blonde hair and a pearly white scar running diagonally from just under the collarbone down the length of her chest. She bent below level of the window, probably removing her dusty brown skirt, Malfoy considered. Just then, though he was half expecting it, Malfoy let out an involuntary gasp as a mass of muscle flew through the air, pearly champagne fur blurring before his eyes. He watched as the lioness settled herself down and, closing her intense golden eyes, became a tangle of lounging flesh.
Draco awoke, a cool, early morning mist drifting through the windows. He hadn't slept much; the dreams were back. He rose, put on a tattered black cloak- 'If father only saw me now,' he thought. This was, in fact, the very same cloak he had been wearing over a year ago on the night the Dark Lord was vanquished. Draco had told himself a brisk walk would do him some good, although, almost subconsciously, curiosity was fuelling this decision.
His aunt's cottage was settled in a valley, and there were two paths that presented themselves that morning. The grey cobbled path leading to the main Muggle bridleway, and a small dirt path leading up and into the woods. Curiosity led him up through the trees. The feeling he had been trying to deny was becoming more prominent as he passed boulders and brush. Small birds were nervously landing and taking flight from tree branches, adding to a flutter in his stomach. He definitely wasn't just taking a stroll through the woods. The trees started to part, giving way to glistening water.
Just then, a lioness leapt from the opposite bank and was submerged in the stream. A woman came up, water streaming down her skin, a face framed by a thin, tangled mess of ruddy blonde hair. She opened her eyes and Draco slinked further into the trees. The woman dove again, coming up with a look of benediction on her face. As she opened her eyes she spotted him. Someone was in the trees. She stood up, not caring that her skin was bare.
"Have you been watching me long?" she spoke in a vexed voice.
"I was merely out walking." He had not meant to be seen. "You should be more careful, a muggle could see you."
"I need not act with care, no muggles bother with my lands."
"I was not aware you owned them."
"I do not, they own me." She was getting quite frightening now. "…and may it be known I do not bother with officials, muggle or magic."
Malfoy lashed back, "Why, what'd you do? Eat someone?" It sounded like she wanted to eat him.
In a blur the lioness was lunging toward him. He turned and ran.
"What the hell was a wizard doing in my forest?" wondered Ainsley, after her temper had mellowed. She had pretty well scarred him, of that she was sure. Was he going to report her? No, what the hell was she doing? She was thinking too hard. Still, what on earth would bring a wizard to this random muggle village, there wasn't even any good open space to play quidditch! Ainsley racked her brains, and decided she would never understand wizard folk and left it at that.
Why'd I have to be so clumsy and let myself be seen!? Draco was furious with himself. What had that devil curiosity led him to do!? What the hell was going on here? Why was an animagus living here in the middle of Nowhere, Scotland? How long had she been here?
With a certain feeling of unrest at the subject, he decided to push the thoughts back and distract his brain with a book. He was never much one for reading, but he had picked up the book in the muggle village. A play, actually, he corrected to himself. This one had been written by some muggle pansy in tights. Draco was particularly attracted to the idea that blood was a central theme, or so the shop owner had told him. The opening had a trio of witches, and Draco allowed himself a laugh at the way the muggle had portrayed them as old ugly hags.
Back at her hut, Ainsley decided a bit of rum was in order. She took out an old silver goblet with an ornate W carved in the face and sat down, picking up her much worn copy of Macbeth she settled down for the afternoon.
Ainsley had been half reluctant to re-visit the spot she had seen the wizard boy, but since she was really quite fond of the place, she had decided one measly boy wasn't going to stop her. With an ominous feeling in her gut, she went ambling down towards the riverbank.
Her gut was right, round the other side of a large boulder was a tall, cloaked figure, a dementor. Without a second thought, she shifted into her feline form, but the figure wasn't focused on her, there was someone else, the wizard boy. She stared, helpless, from behind the boulder, he was trembling, he tripped as he tried to take a step backwards.
"Eh- E Expecto Pa Pa Patronum. EXPECTO PATRONUM!" There was a glow of silvery light. Even as quickly, it was gone and so was the figure.