She knew Professor Dumbledore wouldn't approve of her being out so late on her own, especially so close to the Forbidden Forest, but Morgana D'Angelo was, as always, curious. She had heard some of her peers discussing hippogriff sightings in the area, and had wanted to see if the rumours were true. She had hoped to find Rubeus Hagrid, the school gamekeeper and keeper of keys, wandering about the grounds, but so far she had had no luck in locating either a hippogriff or Hagrid.

Morgana reluctantly began heading back towards the castle, still searching the darkening skies for any sign of a hippogriff. She would have given almost anything for a chance to see one, even from a distance. She thought they were the most majestic creatures in the entire world.

Morgana had just passed the Quidditch pitch when she saw a strange figure striding directly towards her. The young witch firmly gripped the handle of the mahogany wand that was concealed in a pocket within the folds of her burgundy red cloak. She was confident enough in her abilities to take on most wizards and witches if the need arose.

As he reached Morgana, the man's topaz-blue gaze settled on her suspicious face. She looked up at him curiously but levelly, saying nothing. He was much taller than her, and he stared haughtily down his aquiline nose at her. He had the pale skin, the disdainful expression, and the aristocratic bearing of centuries of breeding. He held a long black cane in a gloved hand, the silver hilt of which gleamed against the darkness of his attire, and luxurious platinum blond hair fell straight down his back, a startling contrast to his black cloak.

He was absolutely beautiful.

The man silently took in the girl's thickly lashed dark eyes, the loose black curls that tumbled wildly over her shoulders, and he felt a sudden calmness settle over him as he reached her, inclining his proud head ever so slightly as he did so.

He held her open stare as he passed by, and Morgana spun round to watch him go. Within moments he was lost to the blackness of dusk, but he did turn that handsome head, just once, to glance back and smile.