Never have I written a whole Harry Potter story, but I thought I'd have a crack at it. I hope I do this story justice. It's an amazing series, and I recommended both the stories and the movies. Srsly. JK Rowling is the epitome of badassery, and I bow to her writing skills. That is all.

This story takes place after the war.

50th chapter, guys! Yay! Thank you for sticking beside me, all this time! I'm so happy!

Evie POV

My first class of the day that I didn't share with either of my mates, or Pansy and Theo.

Magical Theory.

It was in Classroom 5C; the highest I had ever been in the castle, besides my off the cuff tour with Hagrid on Sunday night. The classroom was filled with dusty old books, some ratted, some unkempt and disorganised, some untouched but all radiating with powerful magical knowledge. As I inhaled, it was like I was absorbing some of the goodness that the books emitted, and my stomach warmed instantly.

"You have the Sight," a frail, elderly voice said from behind me, causing me to jump out of my skin, in surprise. The professor, an elderly woman who had to be in her late 60s, with brown hair, which had begun greying at the roots, and laughter wrinkles framing her bright hazel eyes, shining with mirth. I stammered, "What do you mean?"

She shrugged, her marble cane helping her along, her thin-heeled boots clicking against the stone floors, and as she passed me, she commented, "You're going to be an interesting one," and continued on her way towards the front of the class. She was rather tall for a woman of her age, easily 5'6" in height, and I had to look up at her, like I had to with everyone else. Her stature radiated confidence and I felt her magical core dwarf my own instantly.

"Take your seats, class," she said, quietly, and we followed her hushed orders. Finding that Luna was in this class, still wearing those funny circular framed glasses, I chose to flitter besides her, and asked, inaudibly, "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Almost as if I had woken her up out of a dream, her eyes glided over to me, still holding that dreamy, hazy gleam to them, almost as if she were high, honestly, and she replied, "Sure," her Scottish lilt strong in her tone, as she span, her fingers intertwined in front of her, and a small upturn to her pale lips. "Take a seat. Oh wait," she wiped her hand over my right shoulder, as if she were shooing away a fly or something, and said, dismissively, "You had Wrackspurts by your ear," and slid the glasses from her nose, and tucked them inside of her bag. Neville, the quiet, nervous boy from my Care of Magical Creatures class, slid in besides her, and they began holding hands. He stared at her as if she were the only person in the room, sending me a noncommittal smile, to let me know that he wasn't being rude.

I had guessed that anyway.

I didn't know either of them on a personal level, so I couldn't comment on that, but on the surface, they seemed like the most oddly paired couple I had ever seen. She was eccentric, anyone could see that, and he seemed to skittish to handle her, but.. When they looked at one another. I mean, really looked at each other, the love they shared was obvious, even to me. In my eyes, anyway.

"This is Neville," she introduced him, suddenly, as if she had been jolted awake. "He's my boyfriend."

"I noticed," I commented, gently, and slid further beneath the desk, turning towards the teacher, who began writing something on the blackboard with a white piece of chalk, which was a little strange as professors usually used their wand to dictate what they wished on the boards. Once she was finished, she turned to face us, her eyes kind and welcoming, and said, firmly, "I am Margret McGee, and I will be your Magical Theory professor."

A resounding applause was heard, and I joined in, feeling pride shine within me. There were only bout twenty students in this class - the rest of the seventh years feeling to confident in their abilities to take such a 'menial' class. I, on the other hand, realise the importance of finding out the back story to a spell, and figuring out how to configure it to my own body's magical fingerprint.

They were all different, and to be in tune with it meant to be in tune with yourself.

"Today.. We will be learning the magic behind Apparation. This will aid you in your ability to correctly apparate between points, almost completely eradicating the possibility of splinching, which can be painful, at best," her lips formed a grim line and her eyes became playfully accusing, "I know how you kids are.. Always rushing things, wanting to be the best at everything you do. But my advice is, stop. Take a moment before making a rash decision and shape your magic to fit the spell you wish. This technique will nearly double your spell strength and accuracy. So,," she paused, "Let's begin."

"How do we, as wizards, Apparate?"

A girl with pale blue eyes and bouncy, copper curls, raised her hand, and replied, smartly, "We transport from one spot to another."

Professor McGee chuckled, "But how?"

A passage in a book I had read in the Malfoy library, nearly a month ago, rang loudly in my mind, and before I realised it, my hand had rise, tentatively, above my head, and my fingers itched in anticipation.

"Yes.. You?," she pointed at me, and I replied, quietly, yet assuredly, "The three D's play a rather large part. Correct me if I'm wrong, but.. Willkie Twycross of the Ministry of Magic states: 'One must be determined to reach one's destination, and move without haste, but with deliberation.' I think this means that the magic within us must accept our choice in destination, before we are able to properly and safely Apparate.."

Silence met my words, and I felt my stomach turn with embarrassment. What if I had gotten it wrong? What if I'd just made an ass out of myself in front of everyone.

Oh dear.

Oh god.

Oh fucking hell.

"The young witch is correct. She," the teacher sent me an appraising stare, "Has been doing her homework. Ten points to Slytherin."

Seeing as I was the only seventh year Slytherin in the class, it didn't really have the desired effect with everyone else, but to me, I was ecstatic beyond the point of reason. My first ever accumulation of House points, and I felt my heart swell with pride.

"How, do you think, we organise our magic to accept our destination - if the three Ds are what we are working from?"

"We must be determined?" Neville put forward, nervously, and she grinned at him, with a single nod of the head, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"To be determined, we must be, what?"

A Ravenclaw chipped in then, "Sure of ourselves?"

With a sure smile, she replied, "Of course," and began a slow circuit of the class, taking in everything with a quiet reserve about herself.

"Raise your hands if you have legally Apparated before."

Nearly everyone, besides myself and a few of the younger Hufflepuffs raised their hands, embarrassingly enough.

"Why haven't you Apparated before?"

The question was directed at me, and I stammered, "I haven't ever needed to."

She hummed, but said nothing else, thankfully, and moved on. That didn't stop Luna's penetrative gaze from unsettling my stomach further, even if I could only see it out of my peripherals.

"You're a strange one, Kendall," she said, nonchalantly, and I grinned, even though I really shouldn't have, and replied, "Pot. Kettle. Luna," to which she laughed.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, we were filing out of Professor McGee's room, when I heard my name being called, and I was told to stay behind.

"Yes, Miss?," I asked, approaching her desk, where she was sitting, her chin resting on her knuckles, a contemplative expression on her face. She waved her wand, the door swinging closed with a loud thud, startling me.

"Sorry, dear, I just had to make sure there wasn't any prying children poking their noses where they aren't wanted," she remarked, jokingly, and I found myself grinning, besides the itching beneath my skin, my gums vibrating with the need to be around my mates, and soon. She seemed to realise something was amiss, and she commented, straight to the point, "You're a Seer, correct?"

My eyes widened, fractionally, and I answered, "N-No.. Miss, you're mistaken."

She raised a brow, minutely, and replied, "Hmm.. I don't think I am. You exude Seer energy."

"Do I?"

This was news to me.

She said, assuredly, "Yes.. I am an eighth Seer on my mothers side.. I can 'see' that you aren't exactly human," and as my face dropped in discomfort, she amended, "I apologise if that came across offensive, I don't mean for it to be. I don't usually ask students of their heritage, but.. There is something different about you. I have met all types of Dark and Light Creatures, logging their magical signatures in my mind.. And you're something that I've never encountered before. Do you mind my asking?"

Finding that I had no way out of this scenario, I chose the high road and answered, honestly, "I'm.. I'm part Veela, part Vampire."

Her expression widened, in all aspects, however she collected herself, quickly, out of respect for me, and asked, curiously, "You didn't know you had Seer blood in your veins?"

Shaking my head, softly, I answered, "No, Miss. I didn't know."

"I can see that you are telling the truth."

Chewing on my lower lip, I stuttered, quietly, "Is that what.. The colours are?"

I always thought it was weird, especially considering nobody else mentioned it to me, however I didn't want to speak it into existence. If I quietly marvelled at it, then it wouldn't be such a weird thing for me to deal with. Her lips pursed, and she replied, contemplatively, "It differs from person to person, but I assume so."

"What do you see?"

I was truly curious to add another piece to the puzzle that was my life. She chuckled, quietly, before shifting in the stool she was sitting on, and replied, "I have an acute sense of self."

My brows furrowed, and she elaborated, noticing my confusion, "I notice the differences between myself and other people's magic. I'm human, I can tell that you aren't, because you feel different. It's like hypersensitivity, I suppose."

I pulled a stool from behind one of the long desks, and sat on it, so I was sat facing her, truly enthralled with her words, and I enquired, "How can I control it?"

"That, my dear," she said, with a shrug, "Is all about time and consciousness. Come here Saturday morning, around 10, and I'll help you get a hold on your Seer magic. It can be dangerous - to yourself, more so than anyone else in this school."

She nudged me out of the room, moments after that, and said, "I assume you have a mate somewhere in the school, so I suggest you find them. They're probably waiting for you, worried out of their mind."

I didn't see the need to correct her.

And I was released from the classroom, only to walk straight into the chest of a very nervous Draco.

"What took you so long?"