Bonjour all! So you may have hear tell of this particular story before. Yes, my counterpart had done me a great service in writing up the first drafts, however I am thrilled to say that it is finally ready for posting (i believe that's how you say it in your vernacular?!)! Anywhoo, my darling Biffy and I are to blame souly (no pun intended) for any mistakes. If you spot one, do be a dear and leave a comment so we can fix it! Or if you love it, leave a comment as well! All praise welcome! And if you do not understand my accent, please read my profile, it should help make sense of me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time, Harry Potter or magic... but I was there to witness these events, therefore everything here is based off us true stories.

Set in HP canon year 3, Prisioner of Askaban, everything else you'll have to read to find out!

RuffledParasol


Midnight Encounters

The gas lights crackled against the backdrop of the stone walls bouncing dim light down through the library wing. The second year Emma Swan sat perched in her favorite nook tucked back in the corner staring out over the massive Whomping Willow. It was late and judging by the steady downpour and the darkness that engulfed the grounds from under her watch through the window it was later than she should be out. But the young Gryffindor hadn't been able to put down her book down nor move a muscle since she had entered the library straight after her last class with the giant Hagrid. The theories on dragons and dragon riders had her astounded and currently with her head stuck in "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."

That's the one! The blonde perked up after hours of searching cover to cover she had located the most interesting and rarest of all dragons that they had talked about in their brief overview, the Hungarian Horntail. Her overly large and equally loveable professor had only barely mentioned them before disregarding the topic completely. If it hadn't have been for the Weasley girl asking about them - Ginny, Emma recalled from meeting her earlier after realizing they were in the same year- the giant might not have even spoken another word about them at all!

With her nose so far into the old pages of the book she missed the faint pitter-patter of small footsteps approaching her secret spot.

The rain turned from a drizzle to an outright storm against the window pain as Emma devoured every word about the sensation of riding a Horntail. She didn't care about the dimensions of the bronze spikes that cloaked their tails or the scalding heat of their breath that could turn stones red in a matter of seconds. No, she was only interested in the few special cases of wizards actually managing to ride the fearsome beasts. As she flipped the page, a book crashed to her right.

A large jagged shadow overtook the spot where the candle light had been providing a glow for the second year to read. Emma let out a scream, her natural instinct to fight taking over as she raised her fists before thinking of grabbing her wand. Realizing that she had left her second hand 9 inch dragon heartstring wand with her book bag, she scurried to her feet spotting a small figure by the fallen books.

"Ahh! Crookshanks! You scared me-" but what appeared from behind the scattered Transfiguration books was not the orange colored kneazle Emma had expected, but a small rabbit. Nearly blending in with the dark, the tiny black bunny with long whiskers stopped, as if hoping not to have been caught and remain hiding behind the mess.

It's big dark eyes were trained on the Gryffindor almost as if they were studying her.

Emma had seen all types of house pets over her first year at Hogwarts, some in her house even kept rats, but she had never seen a rabbit the likes of this one. With her breath regained from the momentary scare, the blonde squatted down.

"You're a long way from home," she grunted, her blonde curls cascading around her face as she neared the rabbit.

The hare continued to stare almost as if in a trance as the blonde reached out for it. As soon as Emma's hands touched the soft fur though, the rabbit jumped back as if awoken from its momentary state of trance. The miniature hare scurried off, leaving the confused Gryffindor alone yet again in the cold library.

The sound of the rain on the glass windows brought the blonde back to her senses realizing that the night was late and the hours of her second year curfew were long since past. Wanting to avoid the trouble of being caught and her secret place being discovered, she silently went to her nook collecting her bag and stuffed the mythical book inside.

xxx

Deciding to skip the stone bridge due to the heavy downpour outside, Emma rounded the corner to make her way to the covered viaduct.

Her boot covered shoes echoed lightly on the stone floors under her robes as she walked through the empty halls. Emma always thought the castle was so peaceful at night. What with the Chamber of Secrets being opened open her first year she had rarely taken the chance to be out by herself past hours. But this year she was determined to get to know the ins and outs of the school in which she had found herself longing to call home.

Progressing towards the bridge, the Gryffindor steered clear of the bathroom now referred to as "Moaning Myrtle's" and opted to take the long way past Ravenclaw tower.

Coming around the bust of Rowena Ravenclaw, Emma didn't hear the muffled sounds of close voices echoing throughout the halls until a hand reached out and grabbed her from behind. Emma began to let out a yelp, but before she could find her voice a gloved hand covered her mouth pulling her behind the stone bust.

In a matter of seconds the blonde riggled her hands free of her perpetrators grasp and rounded, ready to hex them with whatever spell came to her mind. However, in doing so, the grasp on her arm slacked immensely followed by a hushing sound coming from her grabbers voice. Emma looked up, recognizing the armed grabber as none other than fellow Gryffindor and prefect, Killian Jones. Emma froze, a white pang of fear shot through her as she realized she had been caught much later after hours than excusable, with her book bag no less containing unchecked out library books. Every cell in her body trembled in fear as she saw her expulsion from the school looming, followed by the removal of her from the grounds and cutting off from any and everything she ever knew about magic. With a little dose of desperation the blonde tried to speak to explain herself, but was silenced as the older boy put his gloved hand over her mouth, covering it yet again.

With some struggle, she released herself enough to breathe as the tall crepuscular prefect looked down at her. Emma still didn't understand how the stubbled faced boy had become a prefect. Just like everyone, she knew he copied off of the gaunt scrawny kid in Potions class - Rumplestiltskin if she recalled right. The scrawny boy was unnervingly small, unhealthily so, everytime Emma laid eyes on him he looked thinner, but it didn't seem to bother him, he only had eyes for the pretty brunette Hufflepuff at the front of class.

Emma only knew so because she had had to spend a week in that so called Potions class, rewriting a 15 foot scroll essay that she had neglected the first time because of Quidditch tryouts. She had skipped her class, asking her lupine-like friend Ruby to cover for her, and copied the girls essay to turn in. Needless to say Professor Snape, no matter how much he resemble a snake that had fallen in a vat of unfortunate hair grease, was like a hawk and had caught her deception within a moments notice. And it was there in her detention that she had noticed the prefect boy throwing magically augmented paper planes at the back of the scraggly boys head whenever he dozed off staring at the brunette girl.

One particular day of her detention the Gryffindors eyes had glazed over as she had gotten stuck rereading the same line of parchment, when the heavy dungeon door to the Potions classroom swung open in medias res of one of Professor Snapes diatribes against an unknown Hufflepuff. Her head snapped up at the disruption, as did everyone else's, to stare at the newcomer who dared to enter the class late.

Emma's breath stopped as she caught sight of the girl that was stood at the end of the long hallway. She had seen the girl around the castle multiple times before, for she was prefect and the only 5th year to ever be head girl of Slytherin house, but had never caught wind of her name.

The older girl was stunning, her long dark brunette-black hair perfectly styled, half pinned up, ending in a loose curl around the middle of her back. Her emerald and black robes nearly glistened in the dungeon light. The way they clung to her figure spoke volumes of how expensive they must be. Judging by the way the light reflected off of them Emma assumed they must be made of some heavy fabric.

'Velvet,' the second year thought aloud, then aptly covered her mouth. All eyes in the room were trained on the Slytherin head girl. Emma realized that the professor must have spoken as, multiple sets of widened eyes now bounced back and forth between the two opposing forces. Emma gulped, finding herself drawn to the scene but completely unaware of what was being said, all she caught was a, "sorry I'm late," from the brunette.

Then all of a sudden, the older girl was walking down the aisle of the classroom, taking a seat next to the recently ridiculed Hufflepuff, pulling out some parchment, ink and quills from her Slytherin emblazoned bag.

Emma gasped in surprise, not only was she entering halfway through lecture, but the 5th year brunette had taken up camp in the middle of a distinctly 6th year class! However, to her astonishment, Professor Snape only seemed momentarily stupefied before he continued on with his denunciation of the blushing 'Puff boy.

The second year stared at the Slytherin prefect the whole rest of the class, not noticing until everyone had gotten up to leave that from behind her the stubbled faced Gryffindor boy had been staring all the same.

The same boy who was stood in front of her now, holding her mouth as to keep her from speaking. It was only moments later that she realized he was trying to say something to her.

"Do you understand? Don't speak or we both will get caught," the lightly bearded boy spat.

Emma nodded her head in agreement. The moment she felt his gloved hand slide from her mouth she let in a gasp of air earning a sharp look from the 6th year prefect.

Regaining somewhat of normalcy in her breathing, the blonde whispered, "What are you doing out here so late? I thought prefects were supposed to be rule followers."

"Never you mind," the boy shot back before he hushed himself as much as her and dragged her further behind the bust.

"Look, I've caught you way past sleeping hours and on the other side of the castle no less, so it's you who should be worried not I. But right now we've both got bigger problems if anyone overhears us, so stay quite and you might escape this alive." He whispered.

"Escape wha-" but as soon as the second year began her thought she heard the tell tale whisper of hushed voices coming from around the other side of the Ravenclaw bust. There were two distinct voices, one male one female. Emma could swear she recognized the cadence and amber tone of the females yet she couldn't figure why. But as soon as she heard them they stopped, dropping to an even lower hum. Whoever it was on the opposite side of the hall near Ravenclaw tower did not want to be caught just as much as the prefect before her didn't want to be seen breaking rules. However when the voices seemed to pick up again, the Jones boy took a chance and glanced around from their hiding spot. When he didn't immediately pull back Emma followed, peeking from behind the large stone bust to see the outline of what appeared to be one of the 6th year Ravenclaw boys from the Quidditch team. He had sandy blonde hair that was combed over nicely to one side, however it hung almost loosely on him, giving him an outdoors look along with his black and blue robes. For a moment she thought it to be Cedric Diggory, before she realized it was one of his best mates but for the life of her she couldn't recall his name.

Just then the other unnamed voice came into view and the blondes stomach flipped. There, stood out long past midnight and far away from her sleeping quarters, was none other than the stunning Slytherin head girl.

"Regina Mills," came a faint growl from beside her.

"Huh-" she mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Escape Regina Mills,. That would be her over their talking to that Locksley punk long after hours. I've been following her for weeks waiting to get something on her and I've finally figured out her vices and I will not lose this chance to exploit her once and for all because of you." The older boy barked roughly into her ear.

Mills, she knew that name. Of course! The prefect brunette girl was none other than the Lady Mills daughter. Everyone knew of her high standing and power in the Ministry of Magic what with her generous funding and luxurious charity balls. But few knew anything more of her daughter except that she was born to the legendary Cora Mills, and a half-blood at that. However that fact was hardly ever exposed or discussed. Emma however was privy to the knowledge due to her hours sitting in the back of the library back home by her orphanage, where she over heard many conversations from unknowing passers byers.

In this moment, all that she had learned about the girl suddenly started to make sense as the older boys words suddenly clicked in her head, "Wait why?"

"Never you mind your pretty little head lass," the 6th year responded. It was in that moment that Emma decided that she did not like being referred to as 'lass' nor 'pretty' as she was pretty sure he had meant it in a derogatory way.

"Well I've seen enough," the Gryffindor prefect whispered, pulling out his wand. Instantly sparks ignited from the tip, shooting off around the bust and clanging against the stone walls.

Emma whipped her head back round as the the Mills girl and Locksley boy suddenly jumped from their spots close together in front of the Ravenclaw tower entrance, looking frantically for a place to hide. In a rush, the Slytherin prefect and the Ravenclaw chaser, looked breathlessly at each other before taking off in opposite directions towards their respective houses.

When the pair had vacated their standing place, the lightly bearded Gryffindor prefect stepped out from behind the Ravenclaw bust, dragging the blonde along with him.

"Well now I get to question as to why you find yourself out here in the middle of the night?" he spoke rounding on her.

"I won't tell if you won't tell." Emma heaved breathesley.

The older boy smirked, a bushy eyebrow shooting up on his thin angular face.

"Deal."

xxx

The walk back to the Gryffindor common room was full of silence. Every time that Emma tried to ask the Jones boy why he had been out, or why he had been stalking the famed Regina Mills he shut her down with a harsh reminder that he could still get her a detention due to 'harassing a prefect.'

The moment the image of the Fat Lady's portrait appeared from behind the moving staircases leading to the secret entrance of Gryffindor common room, Emma knew something was wrong. The large seat that housed the unusually large lady who personified the phrase 'when the fat lady sings' was empty, the lady in question no where to be found. The second year looked from portrait to portrait as all of the residences of nearby pictures looked back at them in horror. It was then when Emma noticed that she and the Jones boy were not alone in the hallway.

Swarming around them were the faces of her fellow classmates and Gryffindors all lined up outside the portrait concealing the doorway. She found herself and the prefect next to her being distanced as she was swallowed into the belly of the crowd. The nervous energy was electric as it made its way through the onslaught of terrified Gryffindors.

She turned, nearly tripping as the mass thickened. It was only then when she caught a glimpse of the unmistakable red streaks in her best friends hair across the sea of bodies.

Rubys large mouth was open wide in horror showcasing her large wolf like teeth. Emma pushed her way through the throng of pajama clad students, thankful that no one had noticed that only her and Killian were still dressed in their house robes.

"Red!" She yelled over the heads of some first years.

"Emma?!"

The svelte brunette turned, her neck craned, lifting her nose as if she were sniffing out a scent, eyes flicking through the crowd until they locked on the blonde in question.

"Red!" the blonde called using the nickname she had given her best friend in their first year. When the girl had accidentally singed the tips of her long hair in a potion, turning them red for a whole month, the name had stuck. And when she decided to keep the color permanently via bright bold streaks she nearly gave her elderly grandmother a heart attack when she went home over break. "What's going on?!"

"Oh Emma!" The girl grasped onto her, "Didn't you hear? The Fat Ladies gone missing!"

"How?" Was all the blonde could think to ask.

Suddenly the lot began to split apart, the two second year friends grasped a hold of each other as to not lose one another in the fuss. From behind came the Headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore, followed closely by his right hand help, Mr. Filch.

The two girls watched as the head of the school made his way through the crowd followed by his lackey, to apex of the scene where the singing fat woman was nowhere to be found. There was some mumble about a dog with dark eyes, a horrid scraping noise and a 'Sirius Black'. Then Emma spotted her fellow Gryffindor, Harry Potter at the front of the crowd. The masses had moved to follow the headmaster where he now stood in front of the new portrait containing the fat lady hiding behind a large hippopotamus. All of a sudden, the giant pack began to move again, back towards the common room entrance. Apparently all were being sent to bed as it was long past sleep hours and the door to the secret entrance was open again. Emma shuffled along, letting the momentum of the group carry her. She only got a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of the small figure perched at the edge of the crowd, unnoticed by most in the commotion. But there behind the common room door was the small rabbit that had been in library an hour before.