In the time of the Order of the Phoenix, a mysterious transfer student from the United States of America comes to Hogwarts. With hair to rival Hermione's, and a tongue to rival Draco's, the suspicions and tensions rise in Professor Snape's classroom. Nobody knows why she came from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts, especially after the Triwizard Tournament's events and Cedric Diggory's death. And we thought Dolores Umbridge was the problem...

This story will be told in many different parts, in many different times. It will jump from the years at Hogwarts to the years after the war, and it'll be up to you to figure out the puzzle.


Prologue


The sounds of the clicking heels would seem nondescript to anyone other than Draco. But he knew that sound, for it had haunted his dreams for years, now. His heart beat fast, and Diagon Alley seemed to go quiet and loud all at once. He spun around and saw that glimpse of glimmering green. She still had the shoes.

She slowed, admiring the windows, and then stopped at Ollivander's. She was tall and lovely, in a fetching summer dress that hugged her slim waist, just as before, and Draco found himself walking towards her. Don't, spoke his mind, she wants nothing to do with you. But the way she swayed in front of the wand shop, the way she then drew her wand and looked at it, held it… Did she sigh? Did he imagine it? Was she thinking the same thing he was?

There it was, in her caramel-colored hands: thirteen and three-quarters inches, blackthorn wood, dragon's heartstring. She still had the same wand, after all this time, after all that had happened. She was still holding it. Her left hand was bare; it was too much to ask that she still had it. She had been hurt too much, and Draco wouldn't have blamed her at all for not keeping it. He often wondered why she wore it for as long as she did.

Without realizing it how long he'd been staring, he looked up to meet her dark eyes. She didn't gasp, and neither did he. He gave a curt nod then turned away. The heels of her shoes clicked up behind him, and he turned at the sound of her voice, still as sweet and terrifying as he recalled.

"You threw me to the Death Eater's, once, and I don't get so much as a 'hello' from you?"

Merlin's Beard, she was gorgeous. She was always a pretty girl, of course, but she'd grown so stunning from age seventeen to twenty. Her round face, her beautiful skin freckled with dots like stars, her full lips painted red…

"Cat got your tongue?"

Draco smiled dismissively. "Sorry, Ella, I didn't think it was you." She rolled her eyes with a smile. "I thought you went back to America," he said.

"I thought you were rotting in Azkaban with your father." His face twisted into a scowl. "I'm sorry. That was mean." There was a tense moment. "How've you been?"

Draco shrugged, without really giving an answer. "You?"

Ella nodded with a shrug, also without really giving an answer. "I heard you were getting married."

His face went white with shock. "Who told you that?"

Ella's eyebrow raised. "So it's true?" She smiled and nodded, pleased with herself, at very least, to still be able to read him the way she could. "To whom?"

He avoided her gaze and put his hand in his pocket, nonchalantly gesturing. "Nobody you'd know."

"It's not Pansy, is it?"

Draco shook his head.

"Thank God; I shudder at the thought of you two procreating." There was, yet another, very tense moment. "Someone we went to school with?" Draco gave her a somewhat nervous glance, almost asking her to stop. "You know, it's none of my business, but if you're so ashamed to say to whom you're engaged, you probably shouldn't be marrying them."

"Well, excuse me, your royal majesty, Queen of Morality—"

"Hey, hey, hey—don't you be turning that venom on me! I'm the wounded party here, remember?" They locked eyes, then looked away from each other. Ella sighed. "Goodbye, Draco." She turned on her heel and walked away.

Don't, he said to himself. Don't be a coward again. Don't make the wrong choice. "I wish it was you!" he all but shouted. Ella stopped dead in her tracks, her shoulders tense. Her head snapped around, her almond-shaped eyes peered in a combination of shock, anger, and disbelief.

"What?"

"I…" He sighed and came towards her. "Can we talk? Can I take you to lunch? Some tea? A butterbeer, perhaps?"

She shook her head. "I can't, I have a train to catch…"

"You can spare an hour."

"Draco, it's a train—"

"And trains run on schedules, don't they? There will be another. Catch the next one. Is there a next one?" A beat. "Please?"

A deeply annoyed frown crossed her face. She then puffed her bangs up off her forehead and took a look at her pocket watch. After a long pause, she nodded and said "One hour. But if I miss the last train, you're paying for my hotel room in London."

"Agreed." He smiled and offered his arm, but she didn't take it. She walked next to him, but kept her eyes forward. He began to wonder why she didn't simply apparate to wherever it was she needed to go. She attempted to make idle conversation as they walked together.

"I wish that someone would take Florean Fortescue's place. What I wouldn't give for a taste of that fairy floss ice cream that he used to make…with lots and lots of whipped cream…"

For someone so bitter and salty, thought Draco, she certainly has a sweet tooth.

"You hate this place." she finally said as they reached the Leaky Cauldron.

"But you don't." He held the door open for her. She gave a smile and walked in.

They sat at a small table, in the corner. He ordered two butterbeers, and Ella asked if they had any of the sticky toffee pudding yet, or was it too early in the day for it. They brought it out in a steaming heap of cake and dates and custard. Ella took a bite, dabbed her red lips on the napkin, and said: "Why didn't you want me to know that you were engaged?"

Draco didn't answer.

"I suppose you're wanting that ring back?" A lump caught in his throat. "Well, you're not getting it. I don't even have it on me. So don't ask."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"What did you tell your mother?"

"She's gotten over it. My father says it's just as well."

"Because it's already been dirtied by a Mudblood's finger, has it?"

"Ella!" gasped Draco, appalled that she'd say that word.

"Don't tell me that's not what he said." Draco looked away, ashamed. That was, in fact, exactly what he'd said. His mother had fainted when she'd found it gone, and threatened to disown Draco if he didn't get the ring back. He then felt Ella's hand on his. He looked up. "I'm sorry, okay? It's not your fault." She smiled. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I…" He cleared his throat. "I was curious as to what you were up to these days."

"It's my first day back from Brazil." She tucked a black curl behind her ear absentmindedly. "I've just come from Slug & Jigger's. They were interviewing for a spot as an apprentice, but I turned it down."

"Why? I thought you wanted to be a Potioneer."

"I do, just not there. At least, not yet. Professor Snape wanted me to continue my education as best I could. I spent a couple of years in Castelobruxo studying potions and herbs there. Have you ever been to Brazil? Portuguese is a fascinating language, and honestly quite hard to learn…thank goodness they spoke Spanish down there. English, too, but what's the point of travelling to a new place if you're not going to learn a bit of the language?"

"Oh." Draco fidgeted. It was so gauche to talk about money, but Ella didn't know that. She couldn't help it; she didn't have any. "How did you afford that?"

"Professor Snape left me everything in his will. I know, I was just as shocked as you. But I think that he knew his life was…" Her eyes welled a little, and she looked away. "Well, I don't think I'll ever starve, is what I'm saying."

"He left you everything?"

"He left me everything, right down to that threadbare sofa in the house in Cokeworth. I was on my way back there now."

"You live in Cokeworth?" Draco spoke the word as if it tasted like acid on his tongue.

Ella frowned. "What's wrong with Cokeworth?"

You shouldn't be in Cokeworth. You should be living in a palace on a hill. "You're the brightest witch I know."

"So?"

"So, you're too good for Cokeworth. That place is filthy."

"If it was good enough for Professor Snape, it's good enough for me," argued Ella. "It's quiet and secluded and I rather like it."

"Excuse me, is this the same witch that would chew my ear off for two hours straight if she happened to get mud on her skirt?"

Ella leaned forward on her elbows. "Why don't you tell be about your fiancée? The mysterious one I'm not allowed to know about?"

He sighed. "Her name is Astoria Greengrass."

Ella guffawed. "You've got to be kidding me—Daphne's little sister? Daphne, as in, Diet Pansy?"

"She's a pureblood. One of the last—"

"You settled for a junior version of a mean-girl cronie, all because she's a pureblood," said Ella, her face twisting a bit in a sneer. "Don't even, Draco, don't even start—you know that's the most-extraordinary thing about her because that's the first thing you said."

"Keeping up with your occlumency, I see?" shot Draco.

"No need for magic," said Ella. "After all this time, I can still read you like a book."

"Well if I could marry you, I would have—"

Ella burst out into laughter so loud that caught the attention of every patron in the Leaky Cauldron. "Who the hell are you trying to fool with that one?"

"Keep your voice down, you bloody yank!" he whispered angrily. "You don't understand."

"You're right, Draco, I don't understand. I don't understand who is stopping you from living your life at this point. I don't understand how you can sit high and mighty on that pureblood throne and still defend your actions after everything. I don't understand how, after all the horrible things that your father put you through, all the pain he caused you, how you can still sit there and pretend like what he thinks of you matters anymore. Above all, I don't understand how you can sit there and lie to me, still, after all this time about how you would choose me, when at every test, you didn't."

Her voice cracked. Suddenly, he wasn't aware of those that might be staring, the people that might put this scandal in the Daily Prophet the next morning. 'Malfoy Heir seen with Muggleborn Ex-Lover in Public House.' He moved his hand to touch her face. "Ella," he all but whispered, his voice full of every emotion he'd ever felt all at once.

She sighed and went cold again. "Congratulations on your engagement to your beautiful bride." She stood and brushed off her skirt. "Thank you very much for the butterbeer, the toffee pudding, and for reminding me of what I am definitely not missing. I wish you many years of happiness and fat babies."

She turned on her heel and stormed out, head held high, her long hair flying behind her. He tried calling after her, but she was already gone. He dropped a handful of galleons on the table and left. Three days later, he received a letter carried by a Great Horned Owl, written in green ink. When he opened it, a silver ring fell out onto his desk. Four karats, asscher cut, a halo of diamonds around the center stone.

Draco,

I intended to throw this into the filthy river, but I didn't. It's the choices we make that determine if we are good, and not our intentions. I hope you, your mother, and your father can all enjoy knowing that a "filthy mudblood" is a better person than they'll ever be.

It was unsigned, but he knew who it was. The return address was clearly written:

Miss Ella Zamora
10 Spinner's End
Cokeworth, UK


Thanks so much for reading! This story is going to jump around the timeline, so you get to find out the whos and the whats and the wheres in different points of the story! It will be fun-like a puzzle! I hope you all enjoy it. This is my first time writing a Harry Potter fanfiction, even though I've been reading the books since they came out!