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.

Draco 15

"That American girl sure is cute."

"I hear she's famous in the states!"

"I heard she does potion broomstick commercials…in Japan!"

"I heard her hair is insured for 10,000 Galleons."

"Her father's a Congressman, did you know?"

"I can't believe she's in Slytherin—she's so friendly!"

"Are they dating now?"

"I hear she's got a snake tattoo on her boobs."

"She chose him?"

"I wish I looked like her!"

"Her mother was murdered by Witch-hunters."

"She's so smart! She's even smarter than Hermione Granger!"

"I heard she can talk to animals."

"The Spellings were the ones to industrialize potion-manufacturing."

"I heard she can summon storms—that's what it means to be in Thunderbird House at Ilvermorny!"

"I can't believe someone that pretty is dating Draco Malfoy—isn't she rich on her own?"

"Ella Zamora is flawless."

"What's she doing with a git like Malfoy?"

"She's so pretty!"

"She's organizing a pumpkin carving party for Halloween—have you seen the flyers?"

"Her hair smells of peaches—you can smell it when she walks by."

"She's too good for him."

"I heard Scourers are muggles that capture wizards and force them to oust out others through means of torture."

"I love this American food! Maybe we can convince the House Elves to keep making it after she goes home?"

"Her trunk says E.X.Z.–what do you think that stands for?"

"Hola, guapo."

Draco looked immediately to his right to see the flash of a soft thigh in a flouncy white cotton miniskirt, sitting on the table, attached to the longest, most-shapely legs he'd ever seen, wrapped in navy stockings. A hand came and took his chin to face upward, meeting the eyes of Ella Zamora.

"Eyes up here, slick," she said with a grin. He tried to think of a snarky remark, but he failed. "It's Saturday…. What are you doing today?"

"I hadn't any plans," he answered with a shrug.

"Good, because I want your help with something today," she said with a grin as she plopped down on the bench next to him. He could smell her fragrant hair; sweet and vibrant, like peaches, like summer. Her white blouse was just sheer enough that he could see the marks of her black brassier. "Meet me at the edge of the forest in half an hour; you might want to wear more comfortable shoes."

He frowned. "The Forbidden forest?" balked Draco. "What are you going to be doing there?"

The American girl grinned. "Honestly, Draco, where's your sense of adventure?" Lost in her eyes, he felt her slide her palm over his knee, teasingly, absentmindedly going up the inside of his thigh. "I need you. Will you come with me?" A beat. "Please?"

Draco couldn't recall the last time he'd heard the words 'I need you' or 'I want your help,' if ever. He also couldn't recall the last time someone said 'please' to him in such a way. He was truthfully taken aback by it, and thought for a moment. After some consideration, he shrugged and said: "Why not?"

"I knew I could count on you!" She smiled. "I'll see you in half an hour." She leaned in and kissed him on the tip of his nose, causing a few sounds of silence all around the table. She stood and sauntered on down, between the aisles of the Great Hall tables, allowing Draco's eyes to wander up and down her form; up to her long curly hair and down to her cool gray boots. She barely got five paces before she stopped in front of Loony Lovegood, who was reading that ridiculous publication 'The Quibbler'. Zamora stopped and tilted her head in question, then cleared her throat. The pale Ravenclaw lowered the magazine to reveal her big blue bug eyes. Was she wearing…radish earrings?

"I hope you won't think me rude, but may I ask why you're reading upside-down?" he heard Zamora say.

"Reading upside-down tricks your brain into working harder as it absorbs the knowledge. It's like a sponge doing chin-ups," Loony's lofty voice lilted over the magazine.

"You don't say," replied Zamora. Draco heard whispered voices of gossip going all around him.

"You're an animagus," said Loony.

Zamora nodded. "I am," she said.

"Can you talk to birds when you transform into a raven?" What kind of stupid question is that?

Zamora smiled and sat down in front of Loony, leaning on her elbows with enthusiasm. "Actually, I don't even have to be in animal form to speak with birds…and it's not just birds! I can speak to any creature with enough avian qualities—Hippogriffs, for example." Draco heard quite a bit of gasps and remarks in the ranks of his fellow students.

"Could you speak to a Thestral?" asked Loony.

"What's a Thestral?"

"They're quite gentle, really. Lovely creatures. They're a kind of winged horse."

"Are they more equine or avian?"

"I'd say more equine, but also reptilian."

"Reptilian, eh?" Zamora considered this for a moment. "Well, I do speak Parseltongue, so I guess I could give it a go."

"You're a Parselmouth?"

Zamora laughed. "I think you're only a Parselmouth if you're born with the ability; Parseltongue was a language elective at Ilvermorny," said she. "It's the most-common secondary language at Ilvermorny, next to Spanish, but I already speak Spanish. As it turns out, it's extremely interesting, so I took it for all four years. I think I still have the textbooks. You're more than welcome to them, if you're curious, too."

"Say something in Parseltongue," said Loony.

Zamora opened her mouth and out came a hissing sound, long and bone-chilling, with flecks and lisps here and there. Loony didn't flinch, where many students did.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I said that I liked your hair—although it's technically 'fur', as Parseltongue has no word for 'hair,'" she said with a smile. Loony smiled, too. "Maybe if you find a Thestral, we could try and see if I can talk to it?"

"There's a whole flock of them that live in the forest. You'll be learning about them, soon, in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Are you a fifth year? I don't think I've seen you in my classes."

"No, I'm a fourth year. But I like Thestrals."

Zamora smiled. "I like creatures, too. My mother ran a rescue for magical creatures when she was still alive. We had a whole herd of Hippogriffs…that's when I learned I could talk to them."

"We have Hippogriffs here, too," said Loony. Draco inwardly cringed at that bloody chicken that almost murdered him just two years ago. He wasn't about to mention that to Zamora, though, with the way her face lit up.

"By chance, is one of them a gleaming chestnut called 'Fleetwing?'" she asked.

"Yes," said Loony. Zamora's face spread into a wide smile.

"That's my old Hippogriff!" gasped the American, causing more than a small eruption of gossiping gasps around her. "When I was seven, we had a herd of them that we were rehabilitating. They were taken from a circus… I used to ride her all over our property! I heard she came back to Europe. What luck that she's here, if it is her!"

Loony smiled. "They're extremely intelligent creatures. If it is her, I think she'll remember you."

"I'll be heartbroken if she doesn't, but I suppose I'll understand—I'm sure I've doubled in size since she's last seen me…" Whispers echoed all over as Zamora's mind spun behind her brown eyes. "Oh, but listen to me chattering on and on and I don't think I've even asked you your name! How rude of me!"

"I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood."

Zamora extended her hand. "Ella Zamora, simply delighted to meet you, Luna." Loony shook her hand; Draco realized that, as he had been watching, he wasn't certain if he saw the weird Ravenclaw girl blink once. "I must be off, but I'm sure we'll meet again—" Ella stood up and quickly stepped away to bump into Longbottom, carrying that freaky festering-boil-looking cactus of his. Quick as a hiccup, Longbottom's books fell to the floor and he was crouched over, staring open-mouthed at Ella, who had caught the freaky cactus with one hand. He quickly bent over and gathered his books.

"A-Ahm—er—uh—I'm s-s-s-sorry—"

"—Is…Is this a Mimbulus Mimbletonia?" Longbottom's fat white face went red as he stood up straight. "In real life?" Zamora asked. Draco huffed to himself, annoyed.

"Longbottom's a disgrace to the wizarding world, just like the Weasleys," said Draco to Crabbe and Goyle, who both nodded vigorously.

"I-I, ah…" Longbottom cleared his throat, and smiled; he looked rather stupid when he smiled. "Yes! My Great Uncle Algie got it for me for my birthday," he bragged.

"But they're so rare!" said Zamora, who seemed to be causing all the other girls in Hogwarts to eye Longbottom. "They're in paintings, sure, but I've never even seen one in real life before, much less held one…" She then frowned. "Wait, when was your birthday, Neville?" His fat face went even redder than before, and Draco was sure he was going to pop. "Something I said?"

"No! No, not at all!" insisted the fat lard. "I-I just…I didn't know you knew my name."

Zamora laughed through her nose and went back to staring at the plant. "These are so valuable…you sure are lucky to have an uncle like the one you do," she said. "What are you planning on doing with it?"

"I'm going to try breeding it!" announced Longbottom, which seemed to impress Zamora.

"You must be really good at Herbology to even attempt it," she said. She then smiled and handed him the plant back. "Maybe when you succeed in breeding it, you'll be nice enough to let me buy one off of you?"

"No! I-I-I mean—erm, yes, of course, but—no, no I won't charge you for it! Y-Y-You can just h-h-have one! R-Really!" the fool stuttered.

"Chicken teeth—I won't hear of it. Compensation in exchange for goods and/or services," she said, her hands firmly on her hips. "I'll pay you every last dragot that it's worth—those things cost a fortune. I won't take 'no' for an answer. Not for your birthday present."

Longbottom's hands seemed to clutch the pot in resolve. "No. I won't take 'no' for an answer. I-I-I'm going to breed this. A-A-And I'm going to give you one. As a gift."

The tension in the Great Hall could be cut with a knife. Draco could hardly believe what was going on. Longbottom was standing like there was a rod up his arse, and Zamora couldn't have been more…what was she? Either way, she eventually shrugged.

"If it means that much to you—"

"—It does! Really, it does!" squeaked Longbottom. Zamora laughed. She bent at the waist, examining the plant from every angle in his arms.

"Do you think that one will be ready for my birthday?"

"Of course!" he squeaked in an unnaturally high voice. A beat. "Erm—just—?"

"March 3rd," she said.

"Wicked," he said. "March 3rd."

Zamora smiled. "If it's not ready by then, don't stress." She then reached into her shoulder bag and dug for something. Her eyebrows went up in satisfaction as she pulled out a well-read book. "Happy belated birthday, to you," she said, handing it to Longbottom, who took it with his free hand. "Don't judge the book by its cover. It's well-read, and I've scribbled in the margins, but it's got loads of info on American herbology. Maybe you'll find it interesting?"

"Th-Thanks," squeaked Longbottom with a stupid-looking smile. Zamora smiled and walked away.

"She's talking to the losers' table," Draco heard someone whisper.

"What does a Mimbulus Mimbletonia do?"

"Longbottom's got a rare plant?"

"Where the bloody hell are Thestrals and Hippogriffs on the grounds?"

"Forget her, Draco." He turned to face Pansy. "She's a weirdo-loving thot." Draco had heard Pansy say similar things about others before, but somehow it never seemed this…ugly.

More whispers rose, and Draco heard them all as he stood. Crabbe and Goyle stood up, too, as did Pansy; Draco waved his hand at them dismissively and walked away, alone. The whispers surrounded him like a tunnel.

"How d'ye think Zamora will react when she finds out Malfoy had that one Hippogriff killed?"

"Her mum ran a Magical creatures rescue in America? How amazing!"

"You can learn Parselmouth?!"

"She's a Dark Witch! That proves it! America sent us a Dark Witch!"

Parseltongue. Zamora spoke Parseltongue. And she had a Hippogriff? As a pet? What kind of Witch was she? What kind of people were her parents?

It had been two weeks since Hogwarts had started and classes were all in full swing. In that short time, Zamora had surpassed Granger in every academic pursuit, mastered every charm and transfiguration in each of their classes, and earned Slytherin an additional three-hundred and twenty-five points. When Draco looked around at the bulletin board in the Slytherin common room, he saw flyers for events and new organizations: student council, pumpkin carving, Thanksgiving Play Sign-ups... How was she doing it all?

Hogwarts was wrapped around Zamora's finger, and it was all too easy to see why, even though Draco didn't agree with her methods of gaining popularity. At every turn, he saw her talking to a new person—to everyone she deemed 'interesting.' To Draco's horror, his fellow housemates were shifting allegiance to her. It didn't matter, though; she was still new, and everyone knows that people tire of new things, eventually. That's why Potter had to come up with a new 'oh my scar is hurting' every other week to keep people's interest. Tosser.

As Draco walked alone towards the dungeons, he couldn't help but notice how differently people were looking at him. The first day of classes was one thing, but the second day of classes was entirely different. In a short twenty-four hours, Zamora had shown grace, strength, resolve, intelligence, and cheek to the staff and student body, and they were talking about it. Draco wasn't sure how else to put it, but here it was: there was nothing in the world like walking into a room with that witch.

When she took Draco's arm, the whole school stared, not in fear but in admiration. The way she held her head high, the quick and powerful way she strode confidently caused all to scurry out of her way. When she walked into a room, it was clear that she owned the room, and everyone knew it. Everyone stared at her. Everyone was starting to stare at Draco in the same way.

He changed into a clean black linen shirt with a woolen coat over it. It was sunny outside, but that wouldn't likely last, considering it was autumn. He changed from his school shoes to his outdoor shoes, handsome black leather boots which he laced all the way up. He wondered why Zamora had chosen such skimpy clothes for a walk in the woods, and then quickly determined that it was likely she wished to show off and look nice.

When he met her at the edge of the forest, she was wearing a fitted cranberry red cardigan with fetching gold buttons and the gleaming golden Ilvermorny crest on the breast. She did look lovely, with her long hair down in a waterfall of healthy black curls. She smiled at him.

"Thirty minutes, on the nose," she commented.

"Punctuality is a sign of discipline and respect," he replied.

She seemed a little surprised for about half a moment, then quickly grinned. "You respect me," she said.

"I do," he admitted.

She nodded pointedly towards the forest. "Come on," she said. Draco hesitated. "What's wrong?"

Not wanting to admit his own reservations, he simply gestured to the woods. "You're not afraid of what's in there?"

Zamora grinned. "Not when I have such a powerful wizard on my arm to protect me."

"So you wanted me here as a human shield?" asked Draco, a bit turned off.

She glanced down for a moment, thought, and then took a step towards him. "Actually, I just wanted to be alone with you." Draco frowned.

"Why?" he asked before he realized what he was saying.

Her eyes went a little wide at his question, which truthfully came more out of impulse than anything. Eventually she shrugged. "I didn't think I needed a reason to want to," she stated. She then glanced over her shoulder. "What's in there, anyway? Hodags?"

Draco hadn't any idea as to what a Hodag was, but it didn't sound like any creature he'd ever heard of before, so he shook his head. "No."

"Glawackuses?" she asked, looking back at Draco.

He had definitely never heard of one of those before, so he shook his head again.

She glanced at the forest again, then back at Draco. "Snallygasters? Hidebehinds? Wampus or Spintercats?"

At this point it sounded like she was making things up. "No, none of those things," he said. He looked back up to the Forbidden Forest. "But the fact of the matter is that I cannot allow you to go in there. Professor Snape made me responsible for you, and the Forbidden Forest is just that—forbidden."

Zamora frowned in thought. "This doesn't change the fact that I have to go in there," she said.

"Why do you have to go in there?"

She paused and wrinkled her nose in thought. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked with a grin.

Draco thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Why not?" he said, realizing he'd already come this far.

Zamora came close. "I need a tree," she said lowly, "specifically a pine tree. It has to be the right size, and it has to be the kind that's freshly-fallen, so that I'm not killing a young tree, but I'm not taking away a rotted one that could be home to someone else."

It seemed a rather specific thing, and a rather difficult thing, at that, especially considering the sheer size of the forest itself. "Why in the world would you need that?"

"That part is a surprise." She then reached and clasped his hand, tightly lacing her long fingers with his. "Come on. We'll be safe as long as we're together. It's often the scary things in life that are the most worthwhile." She led him into the forest, passed the thickets and mossy knolls, down and up hills, deeper and deeper.

"You know I've the right to give you detention for this," he said, growing uneasy. He could swear he heard the Centaurs running in the distance.

"You do," she agreed. She turned and smiled at him, and he felt his stomach grow tight.

"You're not afraid I'm going to?"

She smiled again and shook her head. "No."

A lump caught in Draco's throat. He'd never held a girl's hand before, especially not the hand of a girl like this one. She really was quite lovely, and it was apparent that she—like others—was blossoming from girl to woman. He'd never seen anyone quite like her before, and he had to admit that he really did like how bold she was. She then turned and smiled at him.

"Tell me about yourself," she said.

"So this is your idea of a date?" he quipped with a grin.

She gave a laugh. "Well, you were taking forever to ask me on one, so…" He couldn't help but smile.

"Traipsing through a Forbidden Forest isn't my kind of romance," he said. "But perhaps you'd like to accompany me to Hogsmeade after this," he said.

Zamora smiled. "Mama told me all about Hogsmeade! She talked about the candy shop and the butterbeer… We have butterbeer in America, but she always said it wasn't the same, so I never bothered." 'Mama?' Thought Draco with an inward sneer. "When you were little, did your parents ever tell you stories about Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," he said. "They told me about the Slytherin Common Room, all about the friends they made…"

"They were popular, then?" she asked. "They're social people? Threw parties and such?"

Draco had to think for a moment before deciding that the answer was 'no.' "Father says that such frivolities are gauche."

"'Gauche'," laughed Zamora. "That sounds like the exact opposite of my parents. They were always throwing parties or going to parties… Daddy was always at the Country Club with my grandparents on weekends, and we tagged along, too. We'd watch Lacrosse, Quidditch matches… There was always a benefit here or a gala ball there, but I never got to go to those. I was just to stay home with my Nanny." She laughed at the word 'nanny.' "It sounds so odd to say the word 'nanny,' I know, but I was very grateful to her—she was an Animagus, too, that could turn into a Trumpeter Swan. She was the one that taught me how to fly."

"Your mother and father didn't teach you?" Zamora shook her head; Draco frowned. "Aren't those traits hereditary?" he asked.

"Animagus traits?" she asked. "Oh, I suppose," she said. "It must be recessive in my bloodline. I'm the only one in my family that can do it naturally. One of my cousins tried to train to be one at school, but it didn't really work out. Her animagus form is a toad—which is hilarious, if you've met her."

"I thought about training to become an Animagus once," he said, looking away.

"What kind of animal do you think you'd like to be?"

"Something that flies," he initially answered. "Something powerful."

"A dragon?" said Zamora, leaning her cheek on his shoulder as they walked.

Draco sort of shrugged, then grinned, feeling heat in his cheeks grow as he realized how close she was. "That might be fun," he mentioned.

"Yeah… Not very subtle, though. If you ask me, the biggest benefit of being an Animagus is that you can blend in or spy without being noticed. I don't suppose you could be subtle as a dragon."

"I suppose not. An owl might be subtle enough," supposed Draco.

"I love owls. They're not particularly powerful, though. Perhaps something with a little more panache, like a Bald Eagle? Or a Kestral?" He looked over at her. "Then you could fly with me." She smiled again.

He couldn't help but smile back. "Are you still 'you' when you change?" he asked, pulling away just enough to look at her face. "You still…?" He wasn't quite sure what he was asking. The way that her hair caught the dappled sunlight was truly making it hard to concentrate on conversation. She smiled.

"I do. I'm still fully conscious, lucid—whatever you wish to call it. To be fair, though, I can't say if it's the same for every Animagus. I couldn't even tell you what it's like, to be a raven… I've been doing it since before I was born, so it's not like I have much basis for comparison…know what I mean?"

He nodded 'yes,' even though he didn't quite understand, but he had an idea of what she meant. His eyes wandered through the forest, which was mossy and foggy and dark, even though it was early morning. He quickly concluded to himself that should they get caught, he was merely being a good Prefect by going in after a student that had wandered out of bounds. Even better, he'd be the hero that went into the dark forest and rescued who had gotten lost. He noted that she was still holding his hand, and the more he thought about holding hands with a pretty girl, the more he felt as if his insides were cold butter on warm toast. She turned back at him and smiled.

"Slim pickings, so far," she commented.

"We've only been walking for a moment," he replied. Zamora nodded and continued looking around.

"Mostly fir trees, it seems," she said; he noticed how her dark brown eyes seemed to glow a golden chestnut color when the light caught them just right. "Pine trees tend to grow in more mountainous areas…I was hoping that there would be some here."

"I can't ever recall seeing pine trees around here," he commented. "What will you do if you can't find what you're looking for?" he asked.

"I've got a Plan B," she replied, scanning the trees. He noticed how bright and alive her eyes were, how a million thoughts must be racing behind them. She was nothing like Pansy, who only looked at him. Zamora was engaged in her intents, clearly passionate and exceedingly cleaver. Somehow, Pansy's devotion seemed to pale in comparison; it seemed so shallow all of a sudden.

Pansy hadn't necessarily been Draco's girlfriend, but she was the prettiest girl in Slytherin House that was also a Pureblood and unfailingly loyal to Draco and his every whim. She wasn't ever in front of him, like Zamora was, but always trailing behind, always asking if he was alright when injured, always swooning at the sight of him. He enjoyed the attention, of course, but now it was just so…superficial. The difference suddenly became clear in his mind, as she pointed towards an upward slope and tugged him along by the hand: Pansy was simply ecstatic to simply simper on his arm and take his cue; Zamora strode proudly, side by side, as an equal.

As they climbed higher, Draco noticed that the fog was thinning and mountain flowers were fading from their summer colors. He wondered if they were trespassing on Centaur land, or if any giants might come bounding out. He also wondered what the creatures she was speaking of were, and why there might be any in the Forbidden Forest. They were likely American creatures, and she seemed to know lots about them, but he was beginning to wonder…

"What's a Snallygaster?" he asked.

"It's an American dragon that's native to the East coast," she answered, looking around. "They tend to like hilly areas like this," she said. "They're distinguished by their metallic beaks and belly-tentacles."

"'Belly tentacles'?" Draco repeated in horror.

"Oh, yes," said Zamora. "Snallygasters have four legs, but they have these long, octopus-like tentacles that are tucked up under their bellies and come out to snatch unwary prey from the ground. They're extremely dangerous because they don't make noise when they fly."

Draco cringed in horror. "How are you supposed to defend yourself against one?" he balked.

Zamora shrugged. "They say that Dwayyo urine, sprinkled around your property, is a good way to keep them at bay, but I've never seen anyone actually do it. Snallygasters and Dwayyos are natural-born enemies, but nobody's sure why. I hear that you can buy Dwayyo urine in hunting supply stores, but I don't know if it's the real stuff, considering how Dwayyo's are..." She then gave a sort of dismissive laugh. "To tell you the truth, though, it's easy enough to keep out of Snallygaster territory, so most Wizards and Witches simply avoid them."

He felt a little terrified that such a creature existed. "What if one catches you?" he asked.

Zamora shrugged again. "Make peace with God, I guess." He gulped. "At Ilvermorny, they teach us how to identify when we're in Snallygaster territory, their behavior patterns and how to avoid them…but that's it." She then smiled. "Why do you think you've never heard of one before? You can't tame them; any Dragonologist will tell you so. That's why they weren't in the Triwizard Tournament last year." Zamora looked up at the canopy. "Y'know, Nana always told me that there were Snallygasters in the forest near where she lives, but I think that was to keep me indoors after dark."

"'Nana?'" he asked.

"My grandmother—my dad's mother, not my mom's. I call my mom's mother Meme. Did you know she's going to take me to Paris for Christmas? I'm so excited for it; I've never been to Paris. Barcelona, yes, and San Sebastien, but never Paris… Have you ever been to Paris?"

"When I was four," he commented. "Though I frankly don't remember it…" He would normally say something dismissive, something to infer that it was truly boring and beneath him, but he didn't.

"I don't see the point in going on vacations with very small children," she said. "My parents and I didn't travel until I was seven or eight, when I was old enough to really remember it. It was my mother's idea; she said that she doesn't recall much before age six or seven." A beat. "Well, 'didn't' recall much before age six or seven…" Zamora suddenly sighed and grew very quiet, looking around, avoiding his eyes. He felt her palm go sort of cold and clammy in his.

By now, the stories had flown all around Hogwarts and Zamora was more famous than Potter. Her mother was tortured and burned alive by Scourers, they say. Draco had heard of Muggles being the lowly bottom-feeders of the world, but it hadn't occurred to him that they were truly dangerous. He was told, of course, to stay away from them, to never expose the Wizarding World to them, but he'd never met anyone who had come in such dangerous contact with them. He wondered if she was alright; she certainly seemed to be, though he couldn't be sure. Truly, this was more proof that only Purebloods should be allowed to learn the magical arts.

"Hmm," she said, stopping near the top of the hill, where a bit of a rocky clearing was. "Shall we keep looking?" she asked. "I'm wondering if this is even the right place to find Pine trees…"

He didn't want to go back to the castle, nor off to Hogsmeade quite yet. He hadn't realized how much he had wanted to be alone with her until they were. Out of everyone in the whole school, she'd chosen him, and everyone had seen. He looked up at a great fir at which they were near the base of. "Wait here," he said, taking out his wand and stepping directly underneath the tree.

Draco shot his wand into the air. "Ascendio!" He shot straight up and into the fir's branches and caught onto one of the larger ones. He put his wand in his mouth and brought his leg up to grip on and began to climb. The tree was old enough and thick enough to be sturdy near the top, enough to see over the forest, to see if he could identify any pine trees.

He grunted as he struggled upwards, but he found his footing with a fair amount of ease. Fir trees weren't the ideal type for climbing, in Draco's mind; he much preferred things like oak or willow trees to climb, for they were much more interesting. A tree like a fir tree generally had an arrow-straight trunk and plenty of branches grown in a sort of spiral-like succession, but it truthfully made him dizzy, spinning around like that. With climbing an oak tree, you could see everything, and make jumps or swings to other branches which led you higher. He was unsure of how high he was, but Draco wasn't afraid of heights. He finally reached the top of the tree. He swung his arms over the top-most branch to hoist himself up, only to find that Ella was already there, perched on a branch on the other side of the trunk as him.

"How did—?!" He quickly caught his wand with his free hand as it fell from between his teeth.

She pointed at herself. "Raven," she said. Draco's initial reaction was annoyance, but he was then impressed. She certainly wasn't afraid of heights. He looked away, his eyes scanning over the forest. It was then that Draco saw how far they were from the castle, and just how far the Forbidden Forest spanned. "It's beautiful up here," she commented. Draco then felt her hand atop his, which was gripped around the trunk of the tree. He couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. "It is."

"I love forests," she softly whispered. "They're both quiet and safe as well as loud and dangerous, all at once." She deeply inhaled as a breeze came. "Smell that?" she asked. "There are pine trees here, for sure." She looked south, from whence the wind came. "Perhaps this way?"

Draco looked. He scanned the tops of the trees, and pointed to where he saw a Pine grove. "There. You see?"

Ella transformed into a raven again and flew around to share his branch before transforming into a human girl again. The tree's bough bent, but not enough to worry. She frowned. "Where?"

Draco pointed straight ahead. "Just there, by that cliff. You can't see it?" She shrugged.

"No… You must have amazing vision," she said, grinning at him. He shrugged and smiled at the compliment. "But of course you have amazing vision!" she then chastised herself. "It's not like you'd be awarded the position of Seeker had you un-amazing vision!"

"Naturally," he agreed. "Y'know it's not just me being Seeker—when I got the position, my father bought the entire team a round of Nimbus 2001s." He looked away, grinning, then glanced back to see if she was swooning; she wasn't. She was smiling, but she certainly wasn't swooning.

"That was very nice of him," she commented.

He suddenly became annoyed. "Do you even know what a Nimbus 2001 is?" he sneered.

Zamora shrugged, then shook her head with a smile. "The best racing broomstick that money can buy?"

He glared and looked away, feeling miffed. He heard her scoff, and then the beating of wings. She landed around the trunk of the tree, her feet sharing his same branch, her arms sharing the same his own were swung over; her face was inches from his. "Are you honestly sore with me for not swooning at your money?" she asked quietly, her eyes studying his. "Lo siento mucho, guapo. You'll have to find another way to impress me. I'm rich, too." She swung an arm off the branch and hung off the bough of the tree, stretching. "Anyway, you should look at it like you now have the opportunity to educate me on something you like. It's not like I'd get sore with you for knowing nothing about flying."

"I know plenty about flying!" Draco protested.

"Oh?" She snapped her head up and brought her body towards his again. "Prove it," she challenged with a grin, a sudden spark behind her warm brown eyes. "Race me to the pine grove." Before Draco could ask 'how', Zamora whipped out her wand. "Last one there's a rotten egg." She quirked a brow when he frowned. "Scared?"

Against the wishes of the voice of better judgement in his head, Draco sneered and said: "Do your worst."

She whipped her wand at him and cast: "Mutata figura!"

A white-and-purple light swirled from her wand and he felt himself shrink. He almost screamed, but this voice sounded extremely shrill. He looked around and the world was entirely different, swirling in colors he hadn't ever been able to imagine, light patterns invisible to the human eye...he heard her laugh and fall backwards from the tree. He jumped out after her and held out his arms, but they weren't arms. He stretched his limbs out and whoosh he went upwards, so high, higher than the tops of all the trees.

A cawing raven, beautiful and powerful, soon joined at his side, with the flap of wings. He flapped, too, and flew higher. He felt clumsy and scared, and couldn't help but notice the thirty-something new shades of light and shadow he could see. What could describe that, the way the light now seemed to fall in ribbons and waves, like an ocean? He looked again, and the beautiful raven's feathers shone iridescently in a rainbow of color when the light hit it just right. The wind, the air, everything around him seemed tight and loose all at once. But the raven was flying fast ahead of him, and he couldn't allow that to happen.

He flapped and dove, dove and flapped, following and watching as her tail feathers moved. She quickly dropped down, and when he didn't, he was violently shoved up and to the side with a gust of wind. He tumbled and tried to fly straight, but it was no use, for he fell through the canopy of the trees. By the time he reached the tops again, the beautiful raven was out of sight. Draco panicked and raced to the pine grove as fast as the wings she had given him could take him. He wondered what kind of bird he now was, and if all birds could see this glorious spectrum of light and shadow. He wondered how it would feel to be another type of animal. Once he realized how wonderful flying felt, he was overcome with a strange sort of floating joy that he hadn't felt in...well, he couldn't recall.

When he reached the pine grove, he dipped down into the canopy, calling out in chirps. He then found Zamora, standing in a clearing, beneath one of the pines. He swooped around to her, and with a flick of her wand, he changed back to his human form mid-flight, landing hard on top of her with a thump. They fell hard on the forest floor, and Zamora began to laugh heartily. Draco couldn't help but throw his head back in laughter as he propped himself up with his hands. He looked down at the gorgeous girl spread beneath him, whose cheeks were flushed with laughter and eyes bright with joy. Her hair was splayed out gracefully, like tangled ivy in a halo around her head. His laughing slowed; she grinned and gave him a...look.

If you were to ask Draco what kind of a look this might be, he couldn't tell you. It wasn't a smile, nor a wince in pain, nor even a jest. It was a look of...well, he didn't know. He felt the inside of her thigh suddenly push him over on his back, and the next thing he knew he was pinned beneath her, nestled between her legs. He quickly tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down to the ground with a thump. He was certain the blood drained from his face when she grinned the way she did and tucked a curl behind her ear. He felt a sort of strange heat and rigidity in his body as she leaned down slowly, and in that moment he realized that they were about to kiss. She put her hands on his chest and let her body slowly press into his. He closed his eyes and tensed as he felt her curls falling on his face, her hot breath on his lips...

"Z-Zamora—"

"—'Ella,'" she whispered, her lips brushing against his. "My name is Ella."

Draco opened his eyes and became lost and found all at once. She was everything, and for a moment he felt whole in a way he didn't know he could feel. He gulped, and out of his mouth spilled: "Your eyes in Heaven, which through the airy region stream so bright, that birds would sing and think it were not night."

Suddenly, she stopped and pulled away, her eyes wide. "Shakespeare?" she asked.

Draco gulped. "I found it in the library, once," he said. "It looked interesting. Turns out it was." He felt her body shake a little with a tiny laugh; he gulped and put his hands on her hips. She quirked an eyebrow with a grin. "My father says I ought not to read such romantic dribble—"

"—Your father is wrong," she stated. He felt his body twitch beneath her. "Close your eyes," she said. Draco gulped. "Close your eyes," she whispered again. He licked his lips nervously and gulped. "Fine," she whispered with a grin. "Keep them open." She closed her eyes and leaned down, only to stop just as quickly when a sort of strange grumbling was heard. She tensed and looked up; her body hardened in fear. Draco quickly shot his gaze upward, paralyzed in fear. "It's...!" she gasped.

"GIANT!"

HAH! I'm such an asshole for cutting it off at this point...but it's like midnight where I am right now and I'm really tired.

This is a fun chapter. We know lots of things about what happened after this, but it's really fun to see how it all began. I figured it'd be fun if the No-Maj classics had made it into the Hogwarts Library circulation through the years, because hey, why not? And we don't know that Shakespeare wasn't a Wizard! What if he was a Squib, really writing about all of the real witches he knew from Macbeth? I also didn't feel like composing anything in iambic pentameter at midnight...but I needed something fun.

Make sure you try to pick up on details, because they'll matter later. PROMISE! As always, thank you to HeartofAspen, SabrinaJasmine, and Pancakestack for reading and reviewing!