Harry Potter thought Draco Malfoy failing his date was the funniest thing to happen all year. Well, the second funniest thing apart from Moody turning Malfoy into a ferret.

Ron and Hermione thought the same thing, the three of them giggling about it as Isabelle and Clementine passed by.

The golden trio did not even notice as two Ravenclaws briskly walked past them.

"Isabelle, what happened?" Clementine asked her quietly as the corridors got quieter the closer they got to Ravenclaw Tower.

About half the students were still hanging around the Great Hall despite dinner starting over an hour ago. The other half hung around various parts of Hogwarts.

"A vision..." Isabelle whispered back, still trying to wrap her mind around this new skill as they climbed the many steps that led to the tower.

Thankfully, the moving staircases did not shift while they were on them making their trek to the common room that much quicker. And now, as they walked up the dark spiraling stairs dimly lit by candles, Isabelle shivered.

She felt rather exhausted — that vision had taken much energy from her. Especially seeing as it was already the end of the day.

"A vision?" Clementine spluttered. "Lik-like of the future?!"

Isabelle only nodded in response. "It was not bad, as it would turn out Anthony and Padma eventually do get together..." she murmured.

Clementine's eyes widened, but she smiled slightly.

"I knew it!" She cheered. "They're always stealing glances at each other and talking! How far into the future was it?"

Isabelle shrugged. "I couldn't be sure, but if I had to guess probably around eight maybe ten years..."

Clementine's eyes widened. "Oh wow — so they were grown. How delightful!"

Isabelle grumbled as her head pounded. "Yeah, but it'd be more delightful if my head was not absolutely killing me now..." she sighed as they got to the top of the staircase and stood in front of the entrance.

Rowena Ravenclaw sculpted a large wooden door with a shiny golden eagle knocker. The knocker was enchanted by her magic — magic so powerful that the charm has not so much as wained after all these years.

Upon sensing the two students, a deep voice echoed from the knocker.

"Seas with no water. Hills with no Earth. Pathways never stepped on. What am I?"

To always need to answer a riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room was rather tedious. But it kept the mind thinking and allowed creativity to flourish. After all, to answer a Ravenclaw riddle: one must know how to think outside the box.

And no one was better at such a concept than Clementine Goldstein

"As clever as that is — I can still technically step on a map!" Clementine answered breezily, the girl rarely having issues with the knocker's riddles.

Isabelle rubbed her temples as the deep voice echoed out "ENTER" before the door opened on its own accord.

The two scurried inside before it had a chance to start closing — making their way up the last few steps that were hidden behind the entrance door.

Not many people were in the common room as they walked in. Most students simply sat around reading or doing homework. There was one friend group of third-years that sat talking quietly by the fireplace.

Isabelle and Clementine passed by all these people, walking into their dimly lit dorm. Thankfully, there was currently no one else inside. Those who were not still at the Great Hall were no doubt in the girls showering rooms.

Isabelle nearly groaned at the thought. "I need a shower!" She whined, beginning to gather the things she would need for a shower.

She still had a few days before wash day (AKA, the day of the week that she had to wash her mane of curls) so she grabbed her towel, slippers, and soap. After a day at Hogsmeade, she felt gross.

Clementine was doing the same near her bed.

"Are you going to go to Dumbledore about it?" She finally asked Isabelle who shrugged.

"I don't know... he'll definitely tell my mother and then she'll harass me to start practicing it... I don't even want to think about how stressful Christmas break will be in that case..." She shuddered, and Clementine frowned knowing how overbearing Isabelle's mother could be from the stories she'd heard. "But I also do not want to be trained by Trelawney because that sounds like actual hell..." Isabelle continued to rant.

Clementine cringed at the thought of their crazy Divination professor.

"Agreed..." the blonde snorted as they left the fourth-year dorm room to head toward the showers on the floor.

As they walked through the quiet hallways, Isabelle twisted her hair into a bun before putting her shower cap on. The last thing she wanted was to get her hair wet.

★✯☆★✯☆★

"So I have heard that you have been gifted with the Sight, Ms. Lockley, is this true?" Dumbledore asked while looking at Isabelle from the other side of his large desk.

His half-moon glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.

Isabelle gaped, blinking as though someone had insulted her, and tilted her head dramatically.

"How the fuck do you know that?!"

Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temples. "Ms. Lockley, please... " He held up a hand to stop her from making even more sounds of shock.

"But, how did you—!"

"I have my ways..." he answered mysteriously, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement at her gaping face.

It was only a few days after she had been gifted with the vision from the Sight. She had not had any other freaky vision of the future since then, but she also made it a point to skip Divination since it had happened.

She didn't want to chance anything triggering another one. The migraine it had given her was even worse than the ones from her period.

Seeing as she doubted Clementine (the only one who knew about her new ability) told Dumbledore, he must have put the context clues together when he found she had been skipping Divination.

Flitwick, the head of her house, pulled her from the passing period and told her Dumbledore was looking for her. It was only nine in the morning, so she had wondered what the old man wanted — but her question was now answered.

And so, she sat in Dumbledore's office (which looked like it came straight out of some flamboyant man's mind, which it did) with her tie hanging loosely from her neck, her robes barely hanging onto her shoulders, and her hair in a poofy ponytail.

She jumped as a cuckoo clock suddenly went off from the other side of the office.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and waved it toward the clock.

Isabelle's eyes went wide when they landed on his wand... because if she was not mistaken, was that not the...

"Is that the Elder Wand?" She asked him in a baffled tone.

The Elder Wand was the most powerful wand in existence — legend has it that Death himself crafted it.

Dumbledore placed his wand back onto his desk peacefully. The ridges and bumps had many cracks throughout but still appeared to be in good shape nonetheless.

"Why, as a matter of fact, it is..." He smiled at her.

Isabelle herself was chosen by her wand in some backwater swamp wand shop in Port Orleans when she was ten.

Violetta Beauvais was one of the finest wand makers back in America. Located in the swamps of New Orleans, her wand shop was a floating shack that moved through the bayou of Louisiana.

She was known to study the arts of black magic and wandmaking — not that her wands were made of black magic, that was purely another hobby of hers.

Isabelle's wand was a mixture of black and brown, built from something called swamp mayhaw wood.

An almost lightning-shaped wand, thirteen inches in length and decently flexible. Not so flexible that it swayed with every movement, but flexible enough that it would not snap if one accidentally sat on it.

Violetta Beauvais, the famous wandmaker of New Orleans, refused for many years to divulge the secret core of her wands. All Beauvais wands adorned the same core.

Eventually it was discovered that they contained the hair of the rougarou, a dangerous dog-headed monster that prowled the Louisiana swamps. It was often said that Beauvais wands took to black magic like vampires to blood, but Isabelle had never had an issue with this.

Or at least, not one she had noticed.

"How in the world do you have the Elder Wand?"

Dumbledore only looked amused.

"It is quite the story that I will be sure to share with you one day, but for now let us focus on you. You have gained access to the Sight — your Inner Eye is open. I have already sent a letter to your family..." He paused as Isabelle groaned dramatically.

She ran a hand down her face. "Great! Now my mom is going to make me practice it all break!"

"I would not worry so much about that, Ms. Lockley, you will come to see soon that your plans may change for the holiday break this year," Dumbledore said mysteriously.

Isabelle once again got a frustrated look on her face, throwing her hands in the air.

"And what is that supposed to mean?!"

"All in due time, my dear!" The Headmaster said joyously. "Nevertheless, it is important to remember that your mother, while she may seem overbearing and strict, does everything out of love. What some students would give to have that..."

A stab of rare guilt shot through her heart at the thought of orphan Harry Potter whose only true family was the Weasleys.

Dumbledore was right, at least she had a family.

She did not admit this out loud, only nodding and continuing on as though he had never said it.

"So I should be expecting a letter from my ma' in the next few days is what I'm understanding?"

There was a moment of silence.

"I would not put it past Raveena Lockley to do such a thing." Dumbledore finally decided on answering causing Isabelle's cheeks to puff as she breathed out.

Her mother would send a howler if she knew that no one else would be around to hear it.

Isabelle Lockley being the newest Witch Supreme both was and was not a secret. She was still young, so only certain people in the world knew of this. This was due to her family's influence, all of them choosing to keep it as discreet as possible for as long as they could.

Unfortunately, the majority of people in the United States already knew that Isabelle Lockley was the newest Witch Supreme. It was only a matter of time before it spread to the rest of the world, especially when people realized that the girl was not attending classes at her home school but rather overseas.

"Ugh, can I at least drop Divination?" Isabelle asked hopefully only to be shut down by a rare stern look that Dumbledore was throwing at her.

"No." He said simply. "I cannot allow you to drop a class mid-semester, especially when it is a required course for students gifted with the Sight."

"Can't you just pretend that you don't know I'm gifted with the Sight?"

Dumbledore appeared to consider this for a moment making hope shine within Isabelle. Only to be crushed in the next second.

"No." And his answer made it clear that he had just been pulling her leg. "But how about we make a deal — as the Shadow Wizards say in New Orleans?" He ended playfully.

He was referring to the "Shadow" wizards of New Orleans, dark wizards who often went around tricking no-majes to make deals with them. Deals that almost always ended very negatively for a no-maj.

While it was illegal to do, many wizards were sneaky and got away with it.

"Well, even most no-majes know not to make shady deals with strangers..." Isabelle said while sitting up straighter in the chair she had been slouching in. "But I'm listening..."

"Very well, I won't tell Trelawney about your gift of the Sight, although I can't guarantee she won't figure it out on her, she is much smarter than people know. However, you must promise to practice your gift on the side. You are a very talented young lady and I trust that you will be able to handle this on your own?"

"Yes!" Isabelle literally jumped from the chair happily. "I promise I will work on it every day — just don't make me train with Trelawney!"

Dumbledore shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Very well, Ms. Lockley, I'll be checking in on you. You are free to go to class." He excused her.

Isabelle smiled brightly, grabbing her bag and turning to walk toward the exit.

"But before you go, I must ask — you have not spoken with Mr. Malfoy recently, have you?"

She stopped in her tracks, cheeks turning pink as she whirled back around. Dumbledore was giving her an indistinguishable look from behind his desk.

Her fingers gripped the handles of her bag tighter.

"Uhm no, why? Did he say something to you?!"

She would admit that was not her finest moment, her voice coming out squeaky.

Dumbledore now looked amused — as he usually was around Isabelle Lockley. He believed that the world was rather lucky to have such a witch as Isabelle as the newest Supreme.

"No, I was only curious. Just remember that there is never anything wrong with following your heart..."

What the fuck?

"Thanks, Professor..." Isabelle acknowledged, looking absolutely humiliated as she finally turned and left.

Dumbledore chuckled before looking down at his half-finished paperwork for the next challenge of the tournament.

★✯☆★✯☆★

Isabelle sat near the back of History of Magic class, the girl thankfully arriving right on time and not drawing any attention to herself.

She sat next to Clementine — their desk situated by Anthony and Padma.

Draco Malfoy sat near the middle next to Zabini and behind Parkinson who was annoyingly passing him notes.

It was annoying to Isabelle, at least.

Draco was entertaining it, a small ghost of a smile on his face as he passed back little notes as well.

Isabelle was trying to manage herself better therefore she refused to let this get to her. She once again reminded herself that it was not even close to her place to be upset over it.

Daphne giggled while bumping Pansy as they wrote another note together — Malfoy and Zabini sharing smirks and quiet words.

It was not uncommon to hear snickers and other banter come from that whole Slytherin friend group.

Sometimes Isabelle wondered what would have happened had she been sorted into Slytherin last year.

The sorting hat took a rather long time to sort her: unable to make up its mind between Ravenclaw or Slytherin.

"An American? A Lockley nonetheless — the newest Witch Supreme!"

Isabelle flinched at the voice echoing in her mind. The girl sat in Dumbledore's office, only the Headmaster himself watching as she was sorted. Everyone else in the school was asleep.

It was late and Isabelle had only just arrived: Dumbledore had come to Lockley Manor to pick her up earlier.

Getting through the international cupboard traveling network had taken a few hours as it was a rather busy day at MACUSA.

The time difference also did not help causing them to lose about six hours of the day.

And now, she sat with wide brown eyes on an armchair, the sorting hat on her head. It weighed down on her big fluffy hair.

She'd read a little bit about how the Hogwarts hat sorted its students in Hogwarts: A History (which she read as soon as she knew she was going to Hogwarts). Her cousins had also told her about the sorting ceremonies at Ilvermorny which was immensely different than Hogwarts.

"Yeah..." Isabelle replied back in her mind unsurely, she was not sure how to react to a talking hat.

"You should be at Ilvermorny no doubt, but I see old Dumbledore is once again pulling some tricks..."

Isabelle had no clue what that meant and did not bother asking.

"Difficult, but only between two houses. Slytherin or Ravenclaw? You are very cunning and resourceful — you have the drive and ambition to achieve what you want. You are not selfish but you are also not selfless..."

The hat was not lying no matter how much Isabelle wanted to roll her eyes at that. It was not her fault that if all the vampires in the world suddenly decided to have an uprising she was prepared to save herself.

For many things: Isabelle looked out for herself first and foremost.

As dark as it was, when it came down to it: better a stranger die than her.

And this was coming from the Witch Supreme, the one who was meant to renew the bonds of magic between the Earth and her people. But Isabelle was still young, and she still had much growing to do.

"Like the water — Slytherin flows as a serpent, you would do well in that house..."

There was a momentary pause and Isabelle was sure the hat was going to announce her as the newest Slytherin student.

But no.

"But Rowena valued the intelligent. Knowledge ran through her veins. Curiosity and wit are what make the House of Ravenclaw, driven by creativity and the ability to think beyond. In your soul is intelligence, creativity, and curiosity. You ask the big questions, and you can SEE the bigger picture... though you do not always acknowledge it if it does not benefit you."

He briefly paused.

"Like the air — Ravenclaw is free, and they soar to great heights..." The hat mumbled. "But where to put you? Slytherin or Ravenclaw? You will do great things in both..."

But what house would she be happier in? Isabelle could not stop her mind from thinking about this question.

And that question is what gave the sorting hat the answer.

"Better be — RAVENCLAW!"

Isabelle sat staring at the Slytherins and decided that had she been sorted into Slytherin last year, not much would have changed. Other than the fact that she would not be friends with Anthony and Clementine Goldstein, and that would definitely suck.

She did find it amusing that it was not even a question if she belonged in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.

Isabelle decided to think it was because they were undeserving of a bitch like her.

"Can anyone tell me what drove Salazar Slytherin to believe in pureblood supremacy?"

The previously rowdy class went silent at the ghost professor's question.

Despite the now heavy atmosphere, Binns looked bored as ever — as though he did not ask such a controversial question.

Malfoy pointedly sneered at Hermione Granger, eyes turned to slits. A glare that soon transferred to Potter and Weasley as they glared back at him. Hermione ignored Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin students who were now murmuring about Salazar Slytherin being correct.

Pansy Parkinson raised her hand.

"Because mudbloods are disgusting!" She exclaimed as Binns called on her seeing as she was the only one in class to raise her hand.

It was obvious that no student actually knew the answer as it was not explicitly written in any texts. Pansy only raised her hand to make a show of herself and her beliefs.

Immediately, the rest of the Slytherins laughed loudly while the other half of the class (made up of the other houses) argued against that. Not all the Slytherins were laughing, namely it was the gang of wealthy pureblooded ones.

Binns was quick to break it up when it turned into Malfoy hurling insult after insult toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The three of them fighting back with their own words.

So many phrases were thrown out in a matter of seconds that Isabelle could not keep up.

Words from Malfoy along the lines of, "...mudblood, mudblood, mudblood... filthy Weasley, Saint Pottah'!" And about every other curse under the sun.

Harry and Ron had yelled back things like Malfoy being lazy and useless, something about his 'horrid' hair color, and insults toward his father.

There was a "my father will hear about this!" before it was cut short.

"Enough, enough..." The ghost floated through the rows of desks, his tone never changing from its droning lull. "Ms. Parkinson, that was not the correct answer..." Binns said calmly, not so much as scolding her for her derogatory use of language.

She snickered at this, knowing that Binns did not care enough to take house points away. Turning around, she flashed Malfoy a sleazy smile to which Malfoy shot his brows up with a head nod.

"Does anyone else have any idea of what the correct answer is?"

Isabelle did.

She was surprised no one had got it. Sure, the specific reason was not written in the texts, but if one thought hard enough and looked between the lines, then the answer was quite clear.

It all narrowed down to the time he and the other founders were living in. People of magic were being persecuted left and right during their time: public deaths such as hanging and burning at the stake were the norm for those who were discovered as witches and wizards.

And the no-majes had always far surpassed the number of magical people in the world, so it mattered not how powerful someone's magic was if they were going up against massive numbers of no-majes.

It is why Hogwarts was created: both to educate the young and to protect them from the non-magical people who would do them harm.

That alone was enough to make witches and wizards of that time cautious of non-magical people and those associated with them (AKA muggle-borns).

But Salazar Slytherin himself had a rather rough personal history with the muggles.

Unlike the other founders, he was pursued by witch hunters for many years, and before he founded Hogwarts — he married and had three children.

Maximiliana, Cenric, and Aurelius Slytherin.

Aurelius was killed by witch hunters and burned to a crisp at the stake by the time Salazar and his wife arrived.

And so, they took their other children and fled. A few years later, Salazar met the other founders and became good friends with them: eventually, they would all create Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was no secret why Salazar loathed muggles and anything to do with them. Sure, he ended up taking his beliefs way too far in the end, but one could easily see how they started.

Isabelle was shocked that no one else in the class grasped this.

Even Hermione Granger did not appear to know and was patiently waiting for Binns to explain.

"You look like you know the answer," Clementine whispered seeing the knowing look in her friend's eye.

"Because I do..." Isabelle spoke right back, her tone quiet.

"Then raise your hand," Clementine retorted, speaking under her breath.

"No, I don't want to," Isabelle stubbornly responded, speaking under her breath as well.

Before either could say another word, Binns suddenly floated in front of them making them jump. The entire class turned their attention to Professor Binns, Isabelle Lockley, and Clementine Goldstein.

Isabelle made it a point to not so much as look at Draco Malfoy when she briefly noticed his gaze on her. Well, probably not her solely, but the situation she was in, at least.

"Ladies, I may be dead, but my hearing is still sharp. Which one of you claims to know the answer?" The ghost questioned.

Clementine wasted no time in pointing to Isabelle whose shoulders slouched at being outed right away. Multiple snickers echoed throughout the room, the girl able to pinpoint Draco as one of them. Her cheeks tinged the slightest bit pink at the fact.

She had never been called on in class since attending Hogwarts, and she was cursing the Gods for making today the day that it happened. Especially seeing as Malfoy was in this class and his attention was now on her.

"Ms. Lockley, please explain to me what drove Salazar Slytherin to become a pureblood supremacist?"

A few confused murmurs bounced around — not many had ever noticed Isabelle Lockley's presence. And no one except those she had spoken to recognized her name.

Lockley was a family name known in America, not Britain. Just as names like Malfoy and Nott were known in Europe, but not as much in America.

Finally, Isabelle cleared her throat and spoke. Her Southern accent stuck out like a sore thumb and caught the already undivided attention of everyone in the class. Even more whispers jumped around at the sound of an American student.

Draco Malfoy's full attention was caught as he recognized the student he'd been curious about for weeks now. He was shocked when he heard her American Sweetheart lull of a voice — he had never heard her speak before but he was certainly not expecting her to be a Southern American.

He'd never met an American witch from the South before, and he wondered exactly where it was that she was from in that huge country.

"Salazar Slytherin hated muggles to the fullest extent, so it would stand to reason that he hated magical people born from those with no magic as well. That's why he held the beliefs that he did..."

"Very good," Binns complimented her half-assed answer. "But why did he hate muggles so much?"

Isabelle barely had to think, doing her best to block out the whispers and stares as she spoke.

"Back then, no-maj people were violent against wizards and witches..." More mumbles at her use of 'no-maj' over 'muggle', "If a person was discovered to have magic, then the no-maj people would hang us or burn us or drown us or stone us and everything in between to kill us in the most savage way possible. People put on witch hunts to track us down."

"Salazar Slytherin was a victim of this, chased for most of his life by witch hunters. And while he was never caught by the no-majes, his youngest child was... and Aurelius Slytherin paid the ultimate price — death by fire."

There was silence at Isabelle's words — the air was heavy and dark as the realization settled upon everyone. How lucky everyone here was to have been born in such a time that they were not hunted for their magical abilities.

"Salazar Slytherin was never able to forgive and he took his anger out on anything non-magical..." The Southern witch finished. "Including those of magic born from no-majes."

The entire class was staring at her and Isabelle did her best not to shrink into the seat when she realized that her answer was perhaps more than anyone was expecting. Her dark skin, thankfully, hid her small blush.

She tried not to notice the way that Draco Malfoy was staring at her with an indistinguishable look.

Isabelle was smart, her answer was purely factual and did not reveal her own opinions.

In America, the secrecy of wizarding kind to no-majes was much stricter than in Europe. So much so that it was illegal for magical people to marry or even befriend a no-maj until 1965.

Isabelle Lockley truly did not mind no-maj-born wizards and witches. But she was certainly cautious of full no-majes, although the majority she had come across when walking through the no-maj world had been quite kind.

"Very good, Ms. Lockley, that is entirely correct—" The professor was cut off by Draco Malfoy.

"So muggles — or excuse me, no-majes..." Draco started, his British accent sounding very odd as he said the American word for muggle.

Isabelle was so shocked by this that she looked up, briefly meeting Draco's eyes, the boy smirking and shooting his eyebrows up at her attention before she quickly turned away.

"...Are evil then?" He finished, voice snarky and full of attitude as he watched the American girl who would not dare look at him again before he moved his gaze to Hermione Granger and turned it into another sneer.

And maybe he said it for a few different reasons, but the biggest one was to see if he would get a rise out of the American girl.

The peculiar American witch who said 'no-maj' instead of 'muggle'.

He managed to briefly catch her off-guard by saying 'no-maj' but that was all he got.

Ms. Southern-Sweetheart did not react to the rest of Draco's words. Instead, it seemed she was doing her best to keep her gaze averted from him. However, he did get a rise out of Granger, Potter, and Weasley which was almost as good.

He was not sure why he wanted to try and rile the new student up, but that was always his go-to when he wanted attention from someone. Whether it was to see her personal views on muggles, or because he thought it would be funny to rile her up, and even because he just wanted to hear her talk in that lull again was beyond him.

All Draco knew was that it did not work and he found himself slightly disappointed about it.

Before Binns could hope to respond, Hermione slammed her hands on the table glaring at Draco heatedly. He scoffed at the display.

But Hermione Granger was done with his bullshit.

"Well, Salazar Slytherin had a ridiculous thought process! Muggle-borns would have been in the most danger seeing as they were born into a community of people who would kill them at the first sign of magic! But rather than protecting them, he turned his back on them and put them in danger by the wizarding community as well!"

"To hate them and put them in the same category as muggles during that age is preposterous and cruel! And muggles have long since changed — I certainly have never seen a muggle put on a witch hunt!" Hermione yelled angrily at the glaring Slytherins.

"Once again reminding us that you're nothing but a filthy little—" Draco's furious slur was cut off by the ghost teacher.

Ron had moved to grab his wand, no doubt ready to throw a hex at Malfoy, but Harry stopped him.

"Enough!" Binns' bored voice took on a rare stern tone. "We have not yet entered the term for speech and debate: even so, yelling over each other is not a productive conversation." His ghostly eyes stared straight into their souls.

Malfoy shivered at the look.

Isabelle was watching the chaos unfold with wide eyes — the girl doing her best not to chortle at the disarray. Clementine was covering her mouth in shock, eyes darting back and forth between the opposing sides.

Anthony and Padma were delivering looks of irritation toward the Slytherins.

Isabelle's right leg started bouncing up and down nervously. As strong as she tried to act, she was nervous on the inside — she did not like being part of the spectacle. Especially seeing so many students whispering and looking at her.

The New Orleans transfer student. The backwater swamp witch, Isabelle Lockley.

"I have one last question for you, Ms. Lockley as I am quite impressed by your previously correct answer. But how did you know — there is no direct explanation of how Slytherin came to be a blood supremacist? So how did you know?"

Isabelle shrank as the class once again went quiet, all looking at her.

"There is not always an explicit answer..." she started quietly, "All one needs to do at times is look between the lines — by analyzing Salazar Slytherin's past, we can presume that it's his driving point for his intolerance..."

"Very good." He nodded at her turning to address the rest of the class. "I asked Ms. Lockley this question to teach you all what you will need to start doing from here on out. Not all answers will be in text, and not everything will be so black and white — you will all need to start thinking unconventionally and analyzing to find such things..." Binns explained while floating to the front, his voice back to its dull tone. "Thank you, Ms. Lockley: twenty points to Ravenclaw..." he announced.

Students in the other houses groaned at this while the Ravenclaws cheered.

Many teachers often only gave 5-15 points for correct class answers. But then again, Isabelle answered a rather difficult question that took more than just memorizing the text. It took analysis and constructing skills.

With that, the class was over and Isabelle was rushing out with Clementine, Anthony, and Padma on her heels. She hated the feeling of everyone staring at her, but in the midst of her rushing, she missed the long look that Draco Malfoy was throwing at her.

He mused over her last name; 'Lockley', it was unfamiliar but that was to be expected seeing as she was a transfer student from America. He did not ponder over her blood status assuming she was pureblood: his father once told him that in America since they were so much stricter with wizard-muggle relations, purebloods were much more common.

It was also a much bigger place so the families there were not forced to inbreed as many elitists had done in Great Britain.

The Malfoy family, to Draco's relief, was not so crazy about blood purity that they would marry their own cousins. Draco would off himself if he had to marry a cousin.

While they were certainly prejudiced against muggleborns they were not that opposed to half-bloods. Unlike his mother's side of the family, the Blacks, the Malfoys do not engage in inbreeding.

Not that his father wanted it pointed out, but Draco swore there was a half-blood or two on his family tree. And lots of foreign witches and wizards: a marriage tactic to keep their blood pure but inbreeding out.

"When the bloody hell did Hogwarts get an American student?"

Draco's attention was pulled to Zabini who was staring at Malfoy expectantly. Draco pursed his lips, disappointed that Blaise seemed to not know any more than him about this new exchange student.

It appeared he was wrong in his assumption a few weeks ago that many people must have been talking about the transfer student and Draco had simply missed out on the gossip. Interestingly enough, it seemed no one had been talking about it as the majority of people were only just now noticing her.

Other than the majority of the Ravenclaws, of course.

"I don't know — Pansy?" Draco demanded in a bossy manner, turning his steely eyes to her.

Pansy only shrugged, seeming to care little about the new student. "I don't know, and who cares? An American witch, big deal, there's plenty of French students and the Durmstrang students who come from all over Europe. I don't know why everyone's freaking out all of a sudden..." She said in a snarky but careless manner, Bulstrode nodding with her.

Malfoy frowned at this, but did not say anything. Not because he was scared of disagreeing with her, but because he supposed she was right in a way. There were plenty of foreign students at Hogwarts this year, who cares about one measly American?

A measly American who was pretty and whose voice sounded like honey when she spoke.

Draco shook his head at the passing thought.

"Never mind, let's just go," He rolled his eyes, walking out of the classroom with his friends on his heels.