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. 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.

Ella 18

"Awright, 'ere we are, Missus—10 Spinner's End, Cokewerf." With movement akin to a drunken newborn deer, Ella stumbled off the Knight Bus, clutching the side as the conductor got her luggage onto the kerb. "Fancy lady loike yew in a place loike fis? Psh… Oi, yew awright?"

"You should be shot in the face, you psychotic mouth-breather." And Ella collapsed face-first onto the sidewalk with a bout of nausea. The bus conductor paused for a moment and then gave rather dumb-sounding laugh. The rising sun fell onto the Knight Bus.

"Guess da Knoight bus ain't for everyone, innit? Oi, ain't you that, er, that witch that done punched old—"

"Yep. That's me. Good old me…" Ella was laying flat on her belly on the wet and muddy sidewalk, her head dizzy from the intense motion sickness that was making her see spots everywhere; she swore she could taste pennies.

"Cor blimey! Never fou' Oi'd be da one ta transport da famous Slyfverella!"

"It's—!" Ella jerked her head up off the pavement to protest, but then immediately decided that it just wasn't worth it. She let her cheek hit the sidewalk again. "Ugh. Yeah. Fine. That's me. Slytherella. Whatever."

" 'Oi! Whatchu takin' da Knoight Bus fo'? Can't yew apparate o' somefin? Ca'tchye turn into a bird or somefin?"

"Tragically, my tiny raven body can't carry suitcases…"

"Wouldn' da Ministry be 'elping yew get somewhere? Not da emergency transport?"

"Normally, I like the train, but I didn't think they'd allow caged owls." This was all said more into the sidewalk than to him, as her face was essentially pressed into the cold pavement.

"Ye need 'elp getting' in, missus?"

"Nope. You've done…quite enough. Thanks. Just…" She weakly tossed a few galleons behind her at the conductor's feet. "…take this and promise to never let me on that bus again." The conductor picked up the galleons, looked at them, then shrugged and got back on the bus. Within an instant it was gone, leaving Ella, surrounded by her fine leather trunk, luggage, and caged Great Horned Owl, in her gorgeous green wool coat with the lace trim, lying face-down on the dirty sidewalk in front of her new home in Cokeworth, a misty, muddy mess of a town that would rival a Dickens' novel in wretched-ness.

"Well." She said more to herself than to anyone. "This is an excellent metaphor of my life at the moment."

"Whoooo?" Phoebus hooted from beneath his cage cover.

"Me, that's who…"

A deep sigh and a minor existential crisis later, Ella forced herself up to a standing position and brushed off her coat. It was too dark to see the real damage, but her entire philosophy over the previous week had been "Well, this may as well happen", which was just a step above apathy. She should have been out celebrating with her friends that they were all graduates of Hogwarts, going to parties in London, drinking at the clubs, dancing at the Rainbow Peacock…but no.

Here she was. Ella X. Zamora, eighteen years old, Slytherin Head Girl, graduated top of her class with nothing less than Exceeds Expectations in her lowest of all nine N.E.W.T.s, in Cokeworth. This time, it wasn't necessarily by choice. She put her fetching hat back on and opened the door with the key.

"Lumos maximus," she cast into the center of the room, a glowing ball of light suspending like a chandelier. Turning to her luggage, which was neatly stacked on the curb, she waved her wand and her case, her trunk, and Phoebus's cage all neatly floated into the house, through the entryway, and set down in the center of the living room; she shut the door and locked it, then turned on all the lights. It was exactly the same, exactly as she remembered it, even with the smell of moldy furniture and neglect.

Ella uncovered Phoebus's cage and the Great Horned Owl gave an annoyed twitch, almost as if to say "Are we really staying in this dump?" She opened his cage and offered her gloved hand.

"Come on, Phoebus. We live here now." The owl huffed and hobbled onto her wrist; she lifted him high. "You can go anywhere you like in this house. It's ours." He flew off her wrist and onto the top of Professor Snape's old beige armchair, giving a hoot. "I know," said Ella with a sigh.

The house was simple enough in design. Snape had a small yet impressive library off to the side of the kitchen, which was across from the living area. Up that creaky old staircase lie three cramped bedrooms and a very tiny bathroom that was barely enough for the tub. Downstairs, which was only accessible by a trap door beneath the rug in the entryway, was a cellar which the Professor had turned into a potions laboratory. There was a cupboard under the stairs for storage, and plenty of tall storage available in the kitchen, which was seldom used. Every cupboard was bare, just as the Professor had left it. All that lay full were his potions down in the laboratory, surely, and the shelves of books, which were piled high in every single room.

Going into the library, she piled some wood and kindling into the fireplace. She wordlessly cast a spell into the logs, causing sparks, flames to fly from the tip of her wand. The room was soon warmed by a crackling fire. It was a rather early morning in late May, so she opened all the windows to air out everything and let the cobwebs dissipate. She wasn't quite cold, necessarily, but the fire seemed to be clearing out the floo and ridding itself of any gunk. When she went to the bathroom upstairs she caught her reflection in the mirror and groaned at how muddy her lovely green coat had gotten.

She removed her coat and set it on the bed, Snape's old bed, which was technically hers, now. It was barely a cot, she realized now that she was really looking at it. The room itself was fairly sparse, with a thin wool blanket on the bed and a few pictures on the nightstand, some on the dresser. Professor Snape seemed to be quite sentimenta; she wondered who some of these people were. She did, however, recognize pictures of Professor Snape as a young boy as well as Harry Potter's parents. It didn't seem right to throw them away, so perhaps she'd turn them into a photo album of some kind and reuse the frames for her own photos. Or, of course, she could take all of the photos and turn them into a lovely display across the walls in the hallway, or perhaps the kitchen?

"Whoooooo? Whoo-hooo?" cawed Phoebus as he nipped at the picture frames on the nightstand.

Ella shrugged. "I'm not sure. It looks like the Professor's old friends from school. I think these people are Harry's parents. Do you think he'll want it?"

"Who?"

"What do you mean, 'who'? Harry Potter? Hedwig's owner?"

"Whooo?"

"Hedwig, the snowy owl; the one that died? You know her? You remember her." Phoebus spun his head around, then cocked it side to side. He flew across the room to the now open window and stretched his wings. He perched happily there and began cleaning his feathers. Ella sighed. "There'll be a lot of things to go through. I'm sure that there will be lots of things that should go to other people." She flopped backwards onto the bed. She'd slept at the Leaky Cauldron the night before and all of the creepy-crawlies in her bed had gotten a far better night's rest than she did. "Ugh, I'm exhausted. Hey. Hey—you bird! Are you listening to me?"

Phoebus stopped cleaning his feathers. "Who who?"

Ella groaned. "Never mind. Go back to preening."

After a hot shower, Ella was beginning to feel something like a human again. She put on a pair of jeans and began to move her things in. A few waves of her wand, and all of Professor Snape's clothes and shoes(which were very sparse, as well) found their way into her trunk, where all of her things went into his old wardrobe, neatly put away. All of her dresses, shoes, blouses and pants, her lovely collection of pointed hats, flitted and floated around the bedroom. Her own pictures came out of the trunk and found their way to the nightstand. She sent the trunk, now full of Professor Snape's belongings, to find its way downstairs into the cellar for storage.

A quick spell on the broom and sponges left in the kitchen caused the whole house to become alive with magic. Phoebus glided up through the house and watched as all of the photos flew from their homes on desks and mantles and tables and found their new homes on the walls. The windows were open, of course, but she didn't expect any trouble. She was, after all, no longer an underage Witchling, but a full-grown Witch in her own home. Besides, the houses were so dilapidated that she figured there was nobody there to complain about any funny business going on. She heard cars and children outside; people must be leaving for work.

Phoebus perched himself on the nightstand and hooted. He then hopped onto the bed and nestled himself on her coat. Ella was a little annoyed, but then realized that she'd have to clean it anyway, so her annoyance soon went away. It was a little past eleven before she realized that she'd scarcely eaten that day, but she felt as though she'd made a great amount of progress in the old house. A knock was then heard at the door.

Frowning in confusion, Ella apparated downstairs and straightened her hair a bit before answering the door. When she opened it, it appeared to be a great potted monkshood plant being held up by a pair of blue-and-yellow starred stockings and pink galoshes. Ella laughed.

"Luna, what a pleasant surprise!"

"I've heard the news. I've brought you a housewarming gift, as well as a subscription to the Quibbler, which should be arriving shortly. You'll get a new copy every week," said Luna's soft voice, lilting over the plant.

"Please come in. I'll find a place for this." She took the plant and set it in the library. "Make yourself at home," she called, "Heaven knows I'm trying to," she said to herself as she situated the plant on the table by the window. Monkshood did just fine in shady areas, of course, but a little sun couldn't hurt it.

"What a lovely house," said Luna, who had taken off her galoshes and left them by the door. "There are lots of memories here. No nargles, it seems, but it looks as if you've got wrackspurts all over. I see you're settling in. Perhaps changing the color of the walls might help make it a bit more cheerful? But not pink; pink walls have been shown to induce insanity." Ella shrugged. Luna took her hand in comfort. "I know that Professor Snape left you this place for you to make a home in. He would want you to be happy here."

Ella gave a sad smile. They sat together on the threadbare old sofa in the sitting room. "I'd offer you some tea or something but there's not a crumb of food in the house."

"I've already had luncheon, thank you. But by the look of you I suspect you might be in need of some pudding, or at least a licorice wand."

Ella smiled and shook her head. "It's alright. Really. I guess I'm still sort of processing all that's happened. It was here and gone so quickly, it almost feels as if I dreamt the last three years." As if on cue, Phoebus flew down from the upstairs and landed on the sofa's arm, right behind Ella's head. "But then this beastie shows up and reminds me that it was real." She gave a scratch to Phoebus's feathers, which he seemed to enjoy. Luna smiled.

"The Professor was very dear to you, wasn't he? Like a father? It must hurt, knowing all the things people are saying, now."

"They've said even worse things about me. I know the truth, which is enough."

"Still, you must be feeling very conflicted. Bad thoughts attract nasty creatures, you know. I'd hate to see the insides of your head all gobbled up by wrackspurts, or worse, especially when you have so much to offer. And I hear that moon frogs have begun to breed in nearby rivers. They're quite beautiful but very destructive, such as most invasive species."

"If I see any moon frogs in the river, you'll be the first person I call." Ella stretched a little and popped her neck. "Anyway, how are you?"

"Very well, thank you. I've gotten my grades just this morning. I've received an Oustanding in my N.E.W.T. for Care of Magical Creatures. I think I'll be pursuing a career as a magizoologist. There's a very good program in Sweden, which is precisely where Crumple-Horned Snorkacks live."

"I think the news of such good grades calls for a celebration."

"There's going to be a graduation party later this evening at The Burrow. You should come."

Ella cringed visibly. "I don't think that I'll be welcome there."

"Hermione at least will be expecting you."

Ella rolled her eyes back and allowed her head to fall upon the arm of the couch in a rather dramatic fashion, causing Phoebus to shriek in annoyance. "Oh Hermione…"

"If you'd like to be alone tonight, I do understand. Solitude can be cathartic, in small doses. I simply suspect that Hermione feels you've isolated yourself over the last year on a level that's quite unhealthy."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Phoebus pecked at the black curls on Ella's head. "I wouldn't have been able to get all nine N.E.W.T.s done right had I any sort of social life."

"Did you do well on your N.E.W.T.s?"

"The lowest I got was an Exceeds Expectations," bragged Ella with a wry grin.

"In which subject?"

"Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic. I only barely scraped by on that one, though…I was terrified to get an Acceptable. I haven't a head for dates, honestly, and that was a fair portion of the test. I received an Outstanding in Potions, of course, as well as Herbology, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts…well, you know. You were there for most of my classes."

"I think that's all the more reason to come and celebrate with us. You've accomplished much. Dwelling on the darkness can smother the wonderful glowing light within you."

Ella smiled and shook her head. "I don't like crashing parties much anymore. I think I'll just get settled in."

"I understand. When my mother died, all I wanted was to be alone. Eventually, I came around when I was ready." Luna gave Ella's hand a squeeze. "You know where to find us, should you change your mind. I think I'll find some pudding for myself. Perhaps a pumpkin pastie." And just like that, Luna skipped out of her house.

Twenty minutes and a brief nap later, Ella heard another knocking at the door. Confused, she answered to see a lanky Gryffindor in a knitted cardigan, smiling with a bouquet of pink glimmeroses.

"Hello, Ella. These are for you." Shakily, he held them out to her. Ella smiled and took the roses, giving them a smell. She liked the pink glimmeroses the best, for they smelled like bakewell tarts.

"Thank you, Neville," she said with a grin. He gave a smile, then nervously shifted, putting his hands in his pockets. "Won't you come in?"

Neville shifted nervously and looked up at the house. "Well, erm—"

"His ghost isn't here. It's not going to jump out of the cupboard and spook you for not doing your homework."

Neville laughed nervously, poked his head inside, and then withdrew. "I-I just wanted to give you those."

A beat. "That's it?"

"Well, I figured you're moving in, and you haven't much time for company…that I'll come back when you're all settled? I'm taking my Gran to tea, anyway. I'd invite you, too, but I know you like to plow through work and all, so…"

Ella gave a laugh. "Yes, I suppose. I haven't anything to offer you, yet, anyway. But I'll throw a party once I get everything settled."

"Speaking of which, there's a big party at The Burrow tonight. Everyone's invited. Are you coming?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, thank you."

"But— It's not like we mind that you're a Slytherin at all—I mean, you're a good one. What you did with You-Know-Who—"

"See, the problem is…you think that all Slytherins are bad. You immediately group me in with a terrorist group just because I happened to be in the same place that they once were in. Slytherins aren't horrible racists, Neville. And those who are can't help themselves."

"Wha—?"

"Have you ever thought that maybe the reasons some Slytherins act like total buttmunches because they're expected to by other houses? They're bullied and made fun of, so then they start becoming jerks for real, even when they don't want to?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"—I know that you didn't mean anything by it, but the fact of the matter is that…you said it. You said it because you think it, whether you think it's okay or not. I asked to be put in Slytherin, you know. And it's not why you think." There was a very awkward pause. "Thank you for the glimmeroses. They're really beautiful."

Neville smiled nervously. "They'll really brighten up your house. And I figured you could still use the powder when they've all dried up." Ella smiled; Neville smiled, too. "Let me try again; would you like to come to the party with me tonight?"

Though she smiled, Ella shook her head. "No, thank you. But tell everyone I said hello." And she closed the door. She smelled the roses again, this time they smelled of fairy floss. Sighing, she found a vase in the kitchen and filled it with water for the roses. A quick wave of her wand would help them last longer, and they'd look lovely by her new bed. Going upstairs, though, she sort of shuddered at the thought of sleeping on the bed of a dead man, even if that man was as dear to her as Professor Snape had been.

Having a quick change of clothes into a crinoline green dress and popping a lovely hat on her head, she extinguished the fire, put a quick protection spell on her house's windows and doors, and then proceeded to gather her things to a trip to Diagon Alley. She then realized that everyone she knew would likely be near Diagon Alley. Did she want to face anybody today? Did she truly have the strength, now? And where would you buy a new bed on Diagon Alley?

Eventually, Ella convinced herself that, even if she could find a new bed and mattress easily today at the IKEA in London, they'd likely not deliver to Cokeworth today. Her best bet of sleeping on a fresh bed tonight was to go to Diagon Alley. Resigning herself to her fate, she put on some tasteful red lipstick and the happiest face she could and apparated there.

As always it was flourishing with life. Little had changed, except for now a few shops were empty. The Weasley brother's shop was still there, still a bright spot, which was truly a testament to the powers of joy. Joy and laughter was a weapon to be used against the darkness, and magic taught her that over and over again.

Although the ice cream parlour was gone, she bought herself some sweets before going to Gringott's and making a withdrawl. She chewed on a licorice wand as she walked up and down the Alley, stopping to smile at the lovely robes in Twilfitt and Tattings. Finally, after scouring the Alley, she didn't find any furniture store that she liked…so she resigned to take a turn elsewhere, to Knockturn Alley, which was not surprisingly sparse considering the events of the war. Borgin and Burkes, however, was still open.

The place was undeniably creepy, but something about it was….enchanting. Borgin withdrew at the sight of Ella, then hissed: "What do you want?"

Ella shrugged. "I'm looking to buy a bed. I need a new mattress and bedframe. Can you help?"

"We sell magical artifacts here. And none for the likes of you."

She squinted. "Is it because I'm the one that did you-know-what to you-know-who, or is it because I'm—?"

"Get out of my shop! We've nothing for blood-traitors!"

Ella sighed. She considered turning him into stone, or a dog, or a chair, but then simply jingled her coin purse and shrugged. "Alright. I'll try somewhere else."

When Borgin saw the glimmer of golden galleons, he quickly tried to change his tune, but Ella eventually found a bed for herself at a furniture shop that had just opened up at the end of the Alley. It was about nightfall when the new bed was being set up in her cozy little home in Cokeworth, complete with sheets of a cool dove gray that paired so lovely with the emerald blankets she'd found. Her new bed reminded her of her old four-poster at school, in that cramped little room with Tracey and Millicent and Daphne. The only difference was that this was a Queen size, which was probably a bit large for the room, but she could worry about that later, perhaps knock a wall down or move a wall over a few feet. It was hers now, of course, so she could renovate.

She paid the delivery man and settled in. The sun was setting over Cokeworth and Ella climbed to the pitched roof to see it. The smell and haze over the formerly industrial town was fairly clear, and she could see the river. Up close, there was surely lots of garbage and whatnot, but she could only see the sweeping willow trees and rolling hills that were just outside. Ella let out a breath, and felt all that was thick and full of bile within her well up to her eyes and stream out her face. She buried her face in her hands and wept silently into her palms. So much had happened, it didn't seem real.

At about 7 o' clock, Ella was just settling into a cup of tea and a sandwich, while she began to look through the books in the library. She was slowly dozing to the sound of the radio going in the background when she suddenly felt her house shake and pop and shake again. Suddenly, she heard some cursing outside, then footsteps, then some frantic knocking at the door.

"Ella!" came a familiar voice. "Ella! Are you in there?!"

In a cocktail of confusion and anger, Ella rose to the door and opened it, only to have a flash of red and brown wrap their arms around her.

"Ella, thank heavens you're all right!" Hermione pulled away and looked at her face. "When you didn't show up I was so worried!"

"Wha—?" She shook her head in confusion. "What in the world are you talking about? And how are you here? Why are you here?"

"The party!" Hermione stormed in through the foyer and turned a sharp right, then pacing back and forth angrily in Ella's library. "I can't believe you didn't come! Head Girl of Slytherin, that speech you made, and you didn't come to the graduation party?! I thought you were dead! I thought somebody had killed you!"

"I decide not to come to a party and somebody thinks I died?" She pursed her lips, almost impressed that she had remained somehow so important after school had ended. Another popping quickly came, and then another flash of red and brown came in.

"Hermione!" came Weasley, rushing passed Ella and to the Gryffindor's arms. "Why did you run away? What are you doing?"

"How did you all—?!" Ella couldn't even finish her sentence of protest before Potter came bashing in through the front door.

"What's going on here? Is everyone alright?"

"No! Please! Everybody come in! I'll put on the kettle!" said Ella with heavy sarcasm.

Potter and Weasley turned to see Ella, looking rather perturbed. Finally, a "Sorry, Ella," came from Potter's lips, with much stuttering and gesturing alike.

Ella then had the trio sit on her threadbare sofa, which she should have replaced while she was out, but hadn't thought to until just that moment. After some pacing and rage-filled miming, she finally turned to the three of them and said:

"Why. Are you all. In my House?!"

"They followed me here," said Hermione, shushing them both before they could stutter more. "And I'm here because Neville mentioned he'd been to see you."

"Neville?" Ella then paced around a bit. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he cares for you and was concerned. When he said you were living in Snape's old house, we…" Ella's face must have shown her sudden rage, for the way they quickly changed directions in the conversation. Hermione then stood. "I know that the last year for you has been difficult. It must have been. You must be feeling grateful for the home, bereaved for the professor, overjoyed because of your grades, confused because you don't know if you should feel any sort of joy during grieving, then conflicted because—"

"If I go to the party and stay for twenty minutes, will you stop? Will you just stop?"

"Well I'm so sorry that I've annoyed you with my friendship!" hissed Hermione.

"You've annoyed me by busting into my house unannounced and bringing your jolly pirate crew with you—honestly, what if I did that? You'd be calling the police if I did that."

"Why didn't you come to the party?!" insisted Hermione.

"Why do you care so much that I didn't come to the party?!" screeched Ella.

"Because I can't live with the fact that you're not alright!" There was a sudden, very long silence. "You're my only friend from Slytherin and you're living proof that they aren't all bad. And I can't stand the thought of you being alone after everything. Your entire House turned against you and you still fought to save Hogwarts alongside everyone else. And to top it off, when you returned, you were awarded the position of Head Girl and did amazing on your N.E.W.T.s..."

Ella shrugged, almost dismissively. "The serpent sheds her skin when she's outgrown the old one."

"That's not it. You've always been you but Slytherin went from loving to loathing you."

"That's not true. There were a few choice bigots in Slytherin that were loud about it—the other two-hundred-something in Slytherin rather liked me. Just because I didn't appear to have a clique last year didn't mean I was lonely."

"But…" Hermione's eyes welled. "You barely spoke to anyone. You went from ruling the school with an iron fist to being shunned in the shadows and—" She gulped back tears. "Listen, I just wanted you to come to the party. I wanted you to know that we're here for you."

There were too many things left unsaid, and Ella didn't have the strength to have that kind of conversation while Harry and Ron were sitting on her threadbare sofa, gawking at them both. Finally, Ella sighed and said: "If it means so much to you, I'll change and we'll go to the party."

She could tell that Hermione wanted to be overjoyed with this news, but was quite hesitant about it. "I don't want you to come if you don't want to."

A beat. "I feel like that's a thought you should have had before you tried to apparate into my house."

"She's got a point," muttered Ron, causing Harry to smirk a little.

"Come on," said Ella. "Let's go to this party of yours."

Ella extinguished the fire in her fireplace and they all climbed to the second floor. In the empty fireplace in the second-floor library, they all floo'd to the Weasley's house, where there was a celebration like Ella hadn't seen in years. Neville came up to greet her with a tight embrace when she arrived.

"I thought you weren't coming!" he said as he pulled away with a toothy grin.

She wrapped her arms tight around him. "I just like keeping you guessing," she said as she gave him a quick kiss on the nose.

Neville laughed. "Dance?"

"God, yes."

The next hours were full of laughing and dancing around the big summer bonfire, more food than anybody could ever imagine, and true joy like she hadn't felt the entire year. There was dancing and firewhiskey up til the wee hours of the twilight. Ella woke sometime in the early afternoon back in her bed, all curled up in the twists and tangles of her sheets, feeling a rather hairy leg with the sole of her foot. Rolling over, she saw Neville sharing her pillow. She caressed his whiskered cheek, and he stirred. Smiling at her, he said: "Good morning."

Ella nodded and sank her head into the crook of his neck, curling her fingers through the hair on his naked chest. "Yes, it is…" She sighed happily as he wrapped his long arms around her. "Glad to know you've gotten over your fear of the house."

Neville laughed. "They don't call Firewhiskey liquid courage for nothing."

Thanks to everyone for reading and favoriting! Thank you for my comments! Thank you all! Sorry I've not been updating this often. I have a crazy life. Anywho, I hope you've enjoyed.