When in the actual ever-living fuck did the British win the right to hold the finest male specimen who ever walked this planet in their country?

Did anyone know? Because Isabelle Lockley sure wanted the answer.

"You actually need help."

Isabelle blinked from her daze at the voice of her friend mentioning his unwanted opinion in her ear.

"Because how in the bloody hell do you of all people fancy a git like Malfoy?"

Isabelle shook her head while tearing her gaze away from the one and only Draco Malfoy. She had been staring at him a little too intently.

It was getting creepy.

Anthony Goldstein was the one who had spoken through a mouthful of toast while his twin sister doodled away in her sketchbook.

Clementine Goldstein hummed a muggle song from where she drew.

On this lovely morning, Isabelle was smashed between her two favorite twins.

And it definitely was not the moronic Weasley clones.

She thought that Clementine's tune might be something by Michael Jackson. Seeing as all three of them were pureblooded, one would think them to not be familiar with such things as muggle pop culture.

But Anthony and Clementine Goldstein were anything but prejudiced and Isabelle was simply too spunky to not enjoy a bit of muggle pop culture.

Especially someone as iconic as the King of Pop Music himself.

When she was home, Isabelle loved walking through the city of New Orleans and taking in the atmosphere.

Her grandmother owned a little hoodoo shop in the city.

A place that attained to backwater swamp witches and wizards on the lookout for hoodoo spells, trinkets, curses, potions, grimoires, and everything in between.

Much of which that walked the delicate line of illegal. But Isabelle would never rat her grandmother out.

Isabelle's grandmother, Evanora, was a master in the arts of hoodoo magic. And she taught Isabelle everything she knew.

Of course, anything to do with magic came easy to Isabelle, the perks of being the newest Witch Supreme and all. But nothing came easier nor interested her more than the arts of hoodoo magic.

"Oh, Dracooooo!"

Isabelle gritted her teeth and made a fist of her right hand. Her eyes once again fell upon the Slytherin table. Somehow Pansy Parkinson's annoyingly high-pitched voice was loud enough to travel over for her to hear.

Then again, the Ravenclaw table was like right next to the Slytherin table.

Her heart rate picked up at the sight of her white-haired crush: Draco Malfoy's face twisting into a frown as Pansy sat uncomfortably close to him. However, it appeared he did not say anything to her, simply rolling his eyes as the Parkinson girl smiled and joined the conversation he had been having with Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

The truth of the matter was that Pansy Parkinson was actually a rather pretty individual — on the outside, at least — she was certainly ugly as hell on the inside. In Isabelle's totally unbiased opinion, of course.

"Perhaps I should make a poppet doll of Parkinson..." Isabelle grinned, and there was something twisted in it. Anthony raised a concerned brow at her words.

Her interest in the art of hoodoo never failed to both fascinate and terrify him.

"Can I help sketch a design?" Clementine suddenly tuned into the conversation, stopping in her drawings and giving a wide smile that showed all of her teeth to her friend.

Isabelle nodded eagerly. "Well, of course, I wouldn't have anyone else do it!"

"Uhm, no — absolutely not. I don't think making a cursed hoodoo doll of Pansy Parkinson is the answer at all." Anthony scolded while shaking his head.

While he and Clementine were aware that Isabelle came from a rather powerful bloodline, they also knew that she often dabbled in the hoodoo arts. Well, more than dabbled, and they also knew about the hoodoo shop her grandmother owned in New Orleans.

It was certainly interesting to listen to some of the stories and watch some of the magic that Isabelle performed. However, while they knew that Isabelle was a talented witch, they did not even know the half of it.

Isabelle needed to keep her connection to Abigail Castor and the fact that she is a Witch Supreme under wraps — no one at Hogwarts other than Albus Dumbledore himself knew. And she made sure to keep it that way.

"Ugh!" Isabelle knocked her head on the table, forcing her gaze away from the Slytherins. "Why not? It'll help me get over this stupid crush!" Her Southern accent rang thick, but thankfully, nobody other than her two friends was paying attention.

The fact that she had a massive crush on Draco Malfoy of all people would make for good gossip around the castle walls. As attractive and rich as Draco Malfoy was — he did not exactly have too many admirers apart from Pansy Parkinson and a few other pureblooded Slytherin girls.

Females from other houses' simply found him too mean and too intimidating for any type of attraction to ever form. Isabelle was the odd one out — as always.

Anthony scoffed while shaking his head and Clementine only tittered while continuing to draw. Upon a glance, Isabelle realized it was a sketch of a bird.

"At this point — I fear that Malfoy somehow managed to slip you amortentia and is playing a cruel trick on you..." Clementine said, and though it was meant as a joke — Isabelle still could not help but stiffen and lock her gaze onto Malfoy suspiciously.

Like always, the Malfoy heir was clueless to her constant staring, not even so much as glancing at the Ravenclaw table. No one from Slytherin's house did, the only house that ever got any attention from Slytherin was Gryffindor when fights would break out due to the long-standing rivalry between the two.

Also, the hatred that Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter seemed to harbor for each other.

Other than that, Draco could either be seen boasting with other Slytherins or sitting quietly listening to others.

"Look..." Anthony started as he finished off his toast, "We have gone through this many many times since we met you last year," it had been almost a year since Isabelle officially started at Hogwarts and befriended the Goldstein twins, "the best we can do is hope that this is the year your heart agrees with your mind and declares Draco Malfoy as nothing but bad news."

And while that was the hope, all three of them knew the chances of that happening were slim.

Isabelle started at Hogwarts mid-way last year joining into the class of third-years. It is now roughly a month into their fourth year, and sadly it already appears as though this year is not going to be normal.

Last year, while Isabelle was not involved with the "incident", it would turn out that Sirius Black kidnapped Harry Potter only to have Professor Lupin (their DADA teacher at the time) rescue him.

However, the rescue didn't last long because apparently he was a werewolf and changed under the full moon that same night and ended up putting Harry Potter and his friends in even MORE danger.

The details that the students were given became kinda wack after that. Apparently, Snape was involved somehow and Sirius Black was allegedly 'caught' only to escape later that same night?

And now he's still on the loose.

Isabelle did not have the energy to question it but there was like 100 different things that did not add from the story they received.

But according to every student at Hogwarts: there's always something going on at this school.

Before that — the Chamber of Secrets had been opened the previous year and students were getting petrified left and right. And before that, the DADA professor ended up being some evil guy trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone or something?

The thing these all had in common? Harry Potter. He was always involved somehow.

This year Dumbledore announced at the start-of-the-term feast that Hogwarts would be playing host to something called the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It had been discontinued for many years due to the number of student deaths it caused.

Isabelle figured it was probably smart to keep it discontinued, so she was confused as to who the hell thought that it was a bright idea to bring it back.

Like what in the fuck?

And these people wondered why they could never have a normal year!

Nevertheless, this year Hogwarts would be competing against two other schools — Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute.

The only safety measure they put in place this time around is the fact that all participants need to be 17 or older... and there are "stronger" protective spells in place. Whatever the fuck that means.

Yeah right, Isabelle is willing to bet someone will die by the end of the year!

Both schools would be arriving sometime in the next week or two.

Isabelle's right eye twitched as she once again heard Pansy's grating voice from across the hall, but she did not bother to turn this time. Anthony had taken to a conversation with Padma Patil and Clementine was still engrossed in her sketch.

Isabelle's irritation grew and everything all but snapped inside of her when she remembered that all she wanted for breakfast was her dear Fruity Pebbles — a popular American no-maj cereal that she ate religiously for breakfast back at home.

Some may call it an addiction, but Isabelle called it a loyalty to the brand.

And with that thought, she slammed her hands on the table and stood up furiously with a screech, "IS IT SO HARD TO ASK FOR SOME DAMN FRUITY PEBBLES?!"

She looked simply feral with her big long curls and her mouth drawn into a sneer.

Almost the entirety of the Ravenclaw table turned to the girl with huge eyes. Clementine looked up from her drawing with furrowed brows and Anthony was gaping. Thankfully, the other tables' attention had not been caught by the ruckus.

Isabelle blushed and grabbed her bag.

"I'm not hungry anymore," she grumbled sourly before all but up and running out of the Great Hall.

Slowly, Ravenclaw House began talking once again and Clementine sighed while putting her stuff away. She had long since finished her breakfast.

"I'll go after her," Clementine told her brother who nodded and went back to speaking with Padma.

The best way to describe Clementine's chaotic friend would be the epitome of salt and sass. Well, to everyone except Draco Malfoy.

Isabelle made her way to her first class of the day — Charms — the girl chose to sit in the middle and off to the right of the classroom. It was the furthest and most invisible seat from where Draco Malfoy and his entourage normally sat.

They often sat in the back left corner. And no, it was NOT weird that she memorized where Draco normally sat in all his classes.

Isabelle was the first person to arrive with thirty minutes until the class was meant to begin. Sitting down in the seat nearest the wall, she wasted no time in cracking open the newest grimoire she was reading on hoodoo magic.

She had found it deep within the Lockley Estate library — it was written by some ancestor of hers during the times of the American Civil War. No greeting was given as Clementine suddenly walked into the classroom sitting down in the seat directly next to Isabelle.

The dark-skinned girl gave her friend a small smile before going back to her reading and Clementine pulled out her sketchbook continuing her drawing of the bird. A few minutes later, Professor Flitwick arrived and was surprised to see the two girls already in their seats.

However, it was the students from his own house of Ravenclaw that normally arrived early.

A small greeting was given before he began to set up for the class. Slowly, the rest of the students began to trickle in.

Isabelle allowed her gaze to float up as Hermione Granger entered the room with Harry Potter only for Malfoy to suddenly get between the two of them hurling an insult before swaggering toward the back of the room.

"Having a nice conversation with your mudblood girlfriend, Potter?"

Isabelle had never held any sort of conversation with Harry Potter or Hermione Granger. But there had been one occurrence last year where Ron Weasley had been sitting in front of her in Defense Against the Dark Arts and turned around to ask her for a quill.

He had been rather surprised when Isabelle lent him a rather nice fountain pen instead. His surprise turned into joy when he realized just how easy and nicely it wrote, the boy having thanked her a million times before class ended that day.

That was the furthest her interaction had gone with the rather popular Golden Trio.

Potter spat some mean comeback. "And she's still a thousand times better than you'll ever be!" But before it could escalate into anything further, Flitwick was quick to shut it down. Both boys grumbled as the class got settled and Isabelle was left sighing.

It appeared as though today was bound to be a boring day at Hogwarts.