Finals week flew by perfectly for Isabelle Lockley. The same could not be said for other students, including her friends, who all were panicking over everything.

But for Isabelle, her finals week started in Potions on Monday morning where she brewed a near-perfect mixture of the common poison antidote. Snape had even given her a compliment — a simple sharp head nod and no critiques. That was big for Snape.

Draco was just behind her in terms of grades for Potions, but seeing as Isabelle dabbled in the hoodoo arts, it would be near impossible for anyone to beat her out in Potions as the two were so closely related.

Hoodoo was just more d̶a̶r̶k̶ ̶q̶u̶e̶s̶t̶i̶o̶n̶a̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶s̶c̶a̶r̶y̶ fun!

Transfiguration went well too — Isabelle was one of the only students to turn her whistle into a watch on the first try. Her grade was just behind Hermione Granger's in that course.

History of Magic was easy enough, a boring written exam on the Troll Wars. Isabelle aced it, of course.

Divination was a little more questionable, there was quite literally no form of exam — Trelawney just randomly gave them all grades. Most students got 'Outstanding' minus Malfoy and his posse who got 'Exceeds Expectations'.

Malfoy was outraged by this and threatened Trelawney until she fixed his grade. He had a right seeing as she clearly graded based on favoritism alone, even Snape was not so bad as to have no exam whatsoever and grade purely based on those he liked more.

Isabelle had the hardest time not laughing as she listened to Malfoy curse and threaten Trelawney in every way possible in the middle of class.

Unsurprisingly, Harry Potter tried defending Trelawney — more to piss Draco off than anything — and also got his head bitten off.

Charms was an easy 'Outstanding' for Isabelle, the girl able to perform any spell that Flitwick asked of her. Herbology was similar, an 'Exceeds Expectations' being earned which Isabelle was fine with.

She was not super interested in Herbology.

Care of Magical Creatures was another easy 'Outstanding' along with Astronomy and Ancient Runes.

Overall, a very successful semester.

It's why Isabelle was able to sneak out of Ancient Runes early as she was one of the first to finish her exam. As it was her last exam of the semester, Isabelle was free to do as she wished until the next term started in two weeks.

She did not need to see her grade when it was released later to know she either got an 'Exceeds Expectations' or an 'Outstanding'.

Isabelle decided to use her newfound free Thursday afternoon to make another trip to Hogsmeade. Even as she had been there a few days ago, Isabelle needed to do some Christmas shopping.

She only planned to get Clementine and Anthony something so it would not take her too long. But she'd rather get it out of the way now so she did not need to go back to Hogsmeade for a while. And she figured there was nothing wrong with another miniature 'stop' at Scrivenshaft's while she was down there.

Surely Draco Malfoy could use another letter from her — hopefully, he'd already picked up the last one she left for him.

The snow crunched under the pressure of her dark rubber boots, the girl clad entirely in black. From her black jeans to her black trenchcoat and even the dark flannel resting under the trenchcoat.

Her trek to Hogsmeade did not last long, the girl thinking of everything and nothing all at once. Mostly, her thoughts resided on what she planned to do that night.

It was time for her to start practicing Divination.

The last thing she wanted to do was miss her family vacation this summer. Especially when she would miss it to be slaving away in the Lockley Estate library with her mother breathing down her neck.

The Supreme Witch was meant to be incredibly gifted in the art of Divination: meaning that while Isabelle would never be able to look into the future just on a whim, she could encourage visions to come to her.

Her plan was to brew some herbal black tea infused with lavender and sip it while meditating on her bed. AKA, laying on her bed with her eyes closed attempting not to fall asleep but rather send her mind into the future.

Isabelle was not sure how successful she would be, but seeing as she promised both Dumbledore and her mother that she would practice Divination, she had to try it sometime soon.

As Isabelle walked from the forest pathway and entered the little village, she was unsurprised to see that it was rather dead.

The student body was either finishing their final exams or resting from having just taken them. This included Beauxbatons students and Durmstrang students.

The Christmas shopping rush would not start until tomorrow when final exams were officially over.

Isabelle chose to get both Anthony and Clementine small gift bags of their favorite sweets from Honeydukes. This along with some new painting supplies for Clementine and a rather snazzy watch for Anthony.

Her Christmas shopping did not take more than thirty minutes seeing as it was not busy in town and she knew exactly what she wanted to get them both respectively.

And now, she strolled on the brick pathway, two bags hanging from her arms.

Of course, she paused outside of Scrivenshaft's, eyeing the small store before shrugging and going in. She figured that if Draco Malfoy had happened by here and picked up her letter already, she'd leave another one.

However, she would not be put off if she found out he had not picked up the letter yet. It was still very recent as to when she had left the last one so she would not be shocked if Malfoy had not yet made another Scrivenshaft trip.

The little overhead bell rang as she bounced in, the door closing behind her as she wiped the snow off her boots on the front mat.

Scrivenshaft was leaning on the back counter of the expensive quill casing, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet, a steaming mug of tea in his hands. The store was decorated all Christmasy — and Scrivenshaft himself wore a rather festive red sweater and floppy holiday hat.

Isabelle snickered at the sight.

Scrivenshaft rolled his eyes as he looked up from the newspaper and noticed Isabelle walking over. The older man could not believe she was back already, this was quick for even her. There was normally a full week or two in between both hers and Malfoy's visits.

"Back so soon?" Scrivenshaft questioned, putting down the newspaper.

Isabelle did not answer that question, instead raising her brows at the decorations. "Decorated for Christmas, I see? A little late for that, isn't it?"

Christmas is just a little more than a week away.

Scrivenshaft shrugged at that. "What's yer name, kid?" He finally asked, realizing that he did not even know this girl's name.

And she'd been shopping in his shop for over a year!

Isabelle stopped on the other side of the counter.

"Why? Not planning on telling Malfoy, are you?"

Scrivenshaft snorted. "Please, if I was planning on tellin' Malfoy who you were or what ya looked like, I woulda' done that ages ago." He waved it off, his Scottish accent looping through every syllable.

She paused, biting her lip in thought.

"Isabelle..." She finally decided on saying, her response short but her voice sweet.

Scrivenshaft looked at her curiously. "And you're from America, Isabelle?" He'd never bothered asking about her accent, something odd seeing as this part of the world did not tend to see many Americans.

Isabelle spoke easily. "Louisiana, New Orleans to be exact..."

"Hmph, a little far from home, aren't you?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Didn't really feel like attending Ilvermorny, what student wouldn't want to go to school across the pond for a bit...?"

"Ah, so a transfer student? Going back to America for your other school years?" Scrivenshaft questioned.

Isabelle answered shortly. "We'll see..."

Technically, she could leave Hogwarts and attend Ilvermorny anytime she wanted to. She'd just never wanted to do that.

"I hope you know that you're a weird kid," Scrivenshaft said with a small smile, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a folded piece of parchment.

Isabelle scoffed but was not offended. He was not wrong. "And you're a weird old man, but you don't see me judging..."

"I don't think you're in the place to judge..." Scrivenshaft replied while handing over the folded parchment.

Isabelle took it in a confused manner. "And what's this?"

"Open it and find out."

Isabelle did as instructed, unfolding the parchment. Nothing could have prepared her for what was inside: of everything in the world, she was not expecting a response from Draco Malfoy. She supposed that the thought of him even being able to reply had gone over her head.

She was scared of his response — scared that it was him cursing her out and telling her to never write to him again. But her curiosity was greater than her fear, and she found herself reading through the letter at the speed of light.

Her heart hammered like a hummingbird's wings in her chest.

Her hands were clammy, and she felt a little lightheaded at the thought of her longtime crush actually speaking to her in one manner or another. The only thing that made her relax was the fact that he still did not know her — he was responding to his "secret admirer".

Isabelle died and was resurrected in the same second as she read the first line.

He called her "little bird"? Did he know she was in Ravenclaw?

She wanted to scream, cry, throw up, and jump around all at once. If anyone else in this school dared call her "little bird", she would probably kill them.

No joke.

But it was Draco so it's totally fine.

She was surprised at his shock — Isabelle knew that Draco Malfoy could be rather full of himself. That's why she fully expected him to write something along the lines of: "another love letter from one of my many admirers" or "of course you would be in love with me, what's not to love".

However, that is not what he said. Rather, Draco Malfoy seemed rather confused as to both how and why Isabelle Lockley fancied him. Especially seeing as in his mind, he'd done absolutely nothing to try and seduce anyone.

Isabelle was not surprised when he finished it by pumping himself up slightly — saying he supposed his dashing good looks were hard to resist. She rolled her eyes at that, but there was still a wide grin on her face.

As she read, she could practically hear his smooth voice speaking to her. As though he stood right next to her, talking into her ear.

He thought she was funny, the things she wrote about Élise and Pansy cracked him up. She understood his frustrations about Pansy, to lose a friend over such silly things.

It also made her feel better that he had thought of her for the Yule Ball, but because of obvious reasons he could not exactly ask her.

Her eyes widened when she read about how he'd be rejecting Pansy on Christmas day. She almost felt bad, this would no doubt turn to be a horrible Christmas for Pansy Parkinson.

She almost fainted when she read the part about him thinking she was a Ravenclaw. At least he did not think she was a Hufflepuff, even if he'd not completely written it out.

He suspected because she was a seer that Ravenclaw was a fair shot — which he was not exactly wrong. What Draco did not know was that she was far more than just a seer.

Isabelle would not tell him she was the newest Supreme Witch because even if people at Hogwarts did not realize it, it would not take much digging into American affairs to find out that she was the Witch Supreme. She had no doubts that Draco would do digging on who the Witch Supreme was and find out that it was American Isabelle Lockley.

The good thing about it was that Isabelle would not go crazy from her Inner Eye like many seers tended to do in the later years of their lives. Being the Witch Supreme gave her more than enough power to handle not just being a seer, but being many other things.

Namely: an animagus and a metamorphmagus respectively.

Now, I have a proposition for you, little bird.

Cue Isabelle dying once again as she read that line.

Draco wanted her to continue to feed him these breadcrumbs, she'd effectively caught his interest and he liked this little game. And he bet her that he would figure out who she was based on these small hints.

She once again experienced a heart attack upon reading him calling her 'love'. Because was it not every teenage American girl's fantasy to have a British guy call them 'love'?

Isabelle could envision him calling her love — that British accent breathing into her ear.

He wanted to know if she was in the same grade level as him, she read through that part next. And he was fond of her!

He wished her luck on her finals, not that she needed it seeing as she got high marks on everything. But then — oh, then — he promised to give her a kiss at the Yule Ball if she revealed herself.

She smiled at this little quip. He wrote that he'd kiss her even if she was ugly. Please! Isabelle was not ugly. Did she have her insecurities? Sure. Did she think she was ugly though? Fuck no — there was far uglier bitches at Hogwarts.

He then wrote that he was kidding and he was sure that she was beautiful. While all fingers pointed to that statement being something that should make Isabelle scream with glee, it made her frown with worry.

Because beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and what if when he saw her he did not think her to be anything special? Especially at Hogwarts where the stereotypical beauty standard were girls who had pasty skin and even lighter hair.

Suddenly, Isabelle felt more self-conscious.

She chose to continue reading, shaking her head. She did not need to worry about that, he did not know who she was.

Nevertheless, Draco promised that no matter who she turned out to be, he would be kissing her.

At that moment, Isabelle's mind was flooded with visions of kissing him under the mistletoe. Innocent enough: just the simple image of her staring into his grey eyes.

They'd be alone in the corridor, both dressed impeccably from Yule Ball and shrouded in the light of the full moon that came from the corridor windows. Draco Malfoy would look beautiful as he glowed under the rays of the moon.

His white hair would be soft and snowy — pale skin in great contrast to her own darker tones.

They would stare into each other's eyes: Isabelle into his cerulean and Draco into her firey caramel. Everything about them would contrast but go together so beautifully.

Like yin and yan, push and pull, ice and fire.

The thought was both poetic and romantic to Isabelle.

In that moment, in the silence of the corridor, and standing under the hanging mistletoe — they would both lean in. Slowly, eyes hesitantly flickering to each other's lips. And just as their lips touched—Isabelle was pulled from her daydream.

She shook her head, forcing the imaginary vision away and allowing her gaze to flick through the remainder of the letter.

He called her 'love' again, talking about how he would take her up on her Hogsmeade date offer. She almost laughed out loud when she read about how they both must really love quill shopping if they were trusting Scrivenshaft with these delicate letters.

Letters that if anyone else from Hogwarts ever saw would no doubt lead to weeks of gossip and months of humiliation.

But then he said one of her favorite lines.

All is fair in love and war.

And not that she realized it then but in that moment her heart officially decided and her magic forged its pathway.

He was the only one for her.

Isabelle's smile turned into a wicked smirk at that — indeed all was fair in love and war. He signed away with much endearment and as she finished the letter her head was left swirling.

Her skin was sweltering despite the cold out: her palms were sweaty and her heart was beating out of her chest.

She was in love with Draco fucking Malfoy, and it was spiraling, there was nothing she could do about it at this point. It did not matter how much she tried to talk sense into herself or think about what her mother would say — she was falling without a hope of ever hitting the ground.

Isabelle giggled like the teenage school girl she was, excitedly folding the letter and putting it in her pocket safe. There was so much she wanted to say, she wished Draco was here so she could chat his ear off.

But no, that would not be good.

"Scrivenshaft — I need a quill and parchment!" She said happily.

Scrivenshaft raised his brows, reaching for her desired objects and handing them to her.

Isabelle wasted no time in getting to work. The expensive self-filling quill scratched as she wrote quickly, her writing more swirly but still legible with her enthusiasm.

Dear Draco,

I can't believe you actually responded! Don't worry, I also did not think of the fact that you could technically leave notes for me as well. Scrivenshaft is brilliant — oh look, I've taken to saying the word brilliant like you lot now — who knew the old man had such great ideas!

I'm more shocked that you actually wanted to reply. I mean, I was positive you were incredibly creeped out by the thought of this and wanted nothing to do to me. You are THE Draco Malfoy, after all.

Anyway; yes, I agree to your proposition, this should be a fun game. Yes, Draco, we are in the same grade level. That's my hint for you this letter.

I'm not telling you what house I am in other than the fact that the thought of being a Hufflepuff makes me want to jump off a cliff. Actually, scratch that — you didn't read that! I still might be a Hufflepuff.

Fuck you for making me so excited that I'm giving away more than I intended.

Finals went well for me, how about for you? I did not get anything below an 'E' on anything, not that I'd want to. Although, sometimes I troll assignments on purpose just to keep it interesting.

Are you serious, you'd actually kiss me? Wow, my dreams must be coming true... but I'm still not going to reveal myself. Why make it easy when I can make you work to find me?

Also — I'm not ugly — there are far uglier ducklings at this school than little ole' me.

Are you excited for Christmas? I am, I don't need to go home this year which is nice! While I do love being home, my mother can be rather overbearing and strict at times. Joy of being a pureblood, I suppose.

Fuck, ignore that too — that's not a hint! I could be a mudblood for all you know!

Then again, I guess a mudblood probably would not call themselves a slur...

I typically don't call them mudbloods either, I'm trying to be more understanding so I totally meant muggleborn. Muggleborn; yes, I might be a muggleborn for all you know!

So... moving on... I've got to say that I'm rather surprised to have come to Hogsmeade with the intention of purchasing my friends a Christmas gift and leaving you another letter only to be receiving one as well.

Love the Christmas gift, Malfoy.

And calling me 'love' in the same thing? Making me blush over here, I might faint from how much you tugged at my heart.

Kidding... mostly.

You'll need to let me know how Pansy takes the news. I do feel bad for her, I can understand why she fancies you: she and I are in the same situation, after all. I'm just in a better place than her? I think?

I mean, you're entertaining these letters so I must be.

What day is your birthday, Draco? I've always pegged you as a Leo or Aries sort of sign.

Seeing as I am running out of parchment, I sadly need to end this. Merry Christmas, Draco.

With Much Love,
A Girl Who Is Irrevocably
Infatuated With You

Isabelle ended the letter happily, folding it and handing it to Scirvenshaft who took it with raised brows.

"For—?" His question was cut off.

"The young Mr. Malfoy." Isabelle ended for him.