Draco Lucius Malfoy, named after the constellation and his father thank you very much, was not a total douchebag.

It was a known fact that he was popular and idolized among his Slytherin peers but loathed by the other houses.

Of course, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang weren't counted in this seeing as they were outside of Hogwarts little bubble.

This being said, Draco chose to at least attempt to give Élise Barbier a fair finish to their date.

She did not want to eat at the Three Broomsticks despite Draco himself being starving — he'd even offered to pay for them, but something about calories and garbage food and Élise would not be eating that.

Sure — the Three Broomsticks did not have the nicest food — but there was still something oddly good about it despite the absolute rubbish quality.

He tried to explain this to her but Élise did not understand such a concept and only waved a finger in his face.

Draco had gone cross-eyed and scowled at the gesture: not used to being treated as such.

However, he chose to overlook this and made no comment about it, something that was rare for him. If it was anyone else he would have snapped at them to get their "vile finger outta my face!"

Draco Malfoy of all people was suggesting to eat there: she would do well to listen to him when he recommended a place for eating.

She also had not wanted a butterbeer, so the two sat there for over an hour without any food or drinks as she talked his ear off. It was the worst hour of Draco's life.

Finally, Draco convinced her to leave — the both of them moving on from the Three Broomsticks and into Honeydukes. They did not stay long when Élise realized this was a candy store... she said something about French chocolate being far superior to the Scottish shit they called chocolate... so she could not get anything from Honeydukes.

Or at least, that's what Draco gathered from her busted English.

Obviously, Draco Malfoy had eaten French chocolate multiple times in his lifetime. And while he fully agreed, French chocolate was superior to Honeydukes', it did not make Honeyduke's sweets unenjoyable.

Draco had thought he was spoiled before he met this girl who turned her nose up at everything Hogsmeade had to offer.

But, of course, the one place to catch her attention was Madam Puddifoot's.

Draco was practically dragged inside, after which he ordered them both some tea as they sat in the back. It was a cramped steamy place with pink all over it, decorated to the brim with frills and bows.

Maybe if he was with the right person, it could have been fun.

But Élise Barbier was anything but fun as she sipped at her tea and boasted to Draco about the newest pegasus her father had bought her. Admittedly, that was actually pretty cool but the way that Élise explained it made it sound anything but.

He knew that he also had a bad habit of boasting to people when he spoke with them, but he severely hoped that he did not sound like her when he spoke to others.

Draco could not be sure how long they were in there before they left.

"Élise I had a fun time..." Draco lied straight through his teeth as they stood off to the side of the crowded Hogsmeade streets. Now, how did he deliver the bad part? That he had no interest in speaking to her ever again. "But I think—"

Élise held up a hand. "I must stop you..." Her French accent was thick. "I don't think we should see each other again. You are a nice boy but much too young and immature for the likes of me..."

Now, Draco should have been delighted that Élise did the hard part for him. He did not need to do anything now!

Alas, Draco Malfoy had an ego the size of Texas (as Isabelle would put it) and he did not take too kindly to be the one who is rejected and insulted. Especially when he was about to do that very thing to her.

And also he was maybe just a tad hangry (irritable from being hungry). He had only had shitty tea and no food, after all.

And so, no one should be surprised when Draco's face turned beat red and he snarled a loud... "Too young for you? Well, you're too old for me you damned Frenchy crone!" He said while pointing at her accusingly, releasing his inner hostility.

There was much more he wanted to say — many insults that lay on the tip of his tongue from how bad this date was and how stupid of a witch she was. And yet, he held himself back for the sake of his family name, sneering at her frightened expression and storming away.

If he ever had to talk to that idiot again it would be too soon!

He angrily shoved through students as he ripped his way toward the one store he wanted to go to before he left Hogsmeade.

Draco stormed right into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop in a heated manner, his mind reeling from the audacity of that bitch!

Fucking French witches!

Scrivenshaft looked up from where he was restocking one of the shelves, craning his neck to see who walked in. He was not surprised that Draco Malfoy walked in, but he was surprised at the fact that he stormed in similar to how Isabelle had just a bit ago.

What was in the air today?

Scrivenshaft met Draco at the expensive quill case where he was already overlooking the new editions.

"Ya' here to test out some quills or pick up yer letter, laddie?"

Draco nearly bit the man's head off for calling him "laddie" but just as he opened his mouth to do so: the words hit him.

Pick up his letter?

The anger in Malfoy immediately disappeared only to be replaced with confusion and slight excitement. In his anger, he'd forgotten that the last time he was here, he'd received a note from his secret admirer.

And now there was a letter waiting for him.

The first love letter and the note were stored away in his dorm, hidden near the bottom of his trunk. Draco took either out sometimes to try and guess who it might be.

After comparing both hand writings, he was positive that the author of both the first letter and the note was written by the same person.

Draco had come up with no conclusions as to who it could be though.

He'd hit dead ends left and right.

"What letter?" Draco quickly demanded, shoving his hands in the warm pockets of his dark trousers and snapping his head around to fix the owner with a pointed stare.

Scrivenshaft walked behind the glass counter casing of the expensive quill section, reaching under it before pulling out a half-folded parchment paper.

Draco eagerly pawed it out of his hands, unfolding the letter and beginning to read.

He knew immediately that it was written by the same person — the cutesy divine swirls of letters was the same handwriting.

His eyebrows furrowed as he read through the letter — his mouth unconsciously curving upward with amusement as he read through the various insults that his secret admirer called Élise.

Élise Barbier had to have been hit from all directions with varying insults. The girl who wrote the letter also proceeded to stroke Draco's ego more than a little and confess her love for him (again).

His lips formed a full-fledged smile as he got to the part about what a date would be like with her. Even he had to admit she made the idea sound appealing: he had a feeling that she was right in saying that they would have a lot of fun.

However, that smile melted away as he got near the end of the letter.

The part where she questioned what his reaction was: if he was disgusted and creeped out at the thought of this girl who left him notes. His stomach stirred sadly as read through the part where she stated she had no desire to be targeted by him.

And he could not exactly blame her, he had a notorious reputation for being the school bully.

But even Draco — as mean as he was — would never take this girl's delicate heart and shatter it. He would not humiliate her by taunting her for leaving him such notes. Even if the two were not as compatible as this girl believed: Draco would never mock her for such.

Then again, that was a hard thing to believe coming from a Malfoy.

His hands clenched the parchment harder, but not hard enough to break, as she wrote down how he was such an unattainable thing for her. How her facelessness was for the better.

To her: Draco Malfoy was a hopeless romantic teenage dream. Something the boy, no matter how entitled he was, had never even thought himself close to.

He was far from perfect — but if he was reading between the lines correctly, then this girl thought the opposite of him. This girl thought he was perfect.

And while that stroked his ego, it also made him sad.

He wanted to know who wrote this. He wanted to know more than anything he had ever wanted before.

His shoulders sagged as he read through the last lines.

ℰ𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓎: 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓎𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓁𝓅𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒾𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓈𝑒𝓁𝓎, 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜.

𝒮𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊.

ℬ𝑒𝓈𝓉,
𝒜 𝒢𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝒮𝓂𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒴𝑜𝓊

But what about HIS subconscious?

While Draco was happy that writing him another letter had seemingly taken some weight off of her shoulders, he was now more vigorous than ever.

She would clearly be glad when news spread that his date with Élise Barbier was an utter mess. There was no way the French girl would keep it a secret, she would probably even try to point the blame to Draco.

Something he would shut down immediately.

Barbier may have been pretty and popular, but even she was no match for the likes of Draco Malfoy.

Nevertheless, it was not fair: Draco wanted to know who was writing these letters to him. Who was the girl who had noticed so much despite never talking to him?

It was apparent that Draco now had to be much more observant if he wanted even a chance at figuring it out.

That was... unless he could get it out of Scrivenshaft...

Draco looked up, bringing the parchment down to his side and schooling his features into familiar coldness. His grey eyes bored into Scrivenshaft's cooly, the boy resting the arm that was not holding the letter on the glass casing.

He adorned two rings on his right hand.

On his ring finger sat a pure silver family emblem — a large 'M' for Malfoy carved into the center. On his middle finger was the Slytherin ring he'd had since he had been sorted. It had once been his father's, passed down to him.

The Slytherin ring was also pure silver, a serpent carved into it — its fangs on full display.

He tapped his middle finger against the glass causing a clicking noise to sound about the quill shop.

Scrivenshaft pretended not to notice, continuing in whatever busy work he was doing. He pretended as though he did not feel the boy's stare drilling holes into him.

Draco was different from Lucius in many ways, but there were also the moments that he was eerily similar to his father. In other words, the look that Draco was currently hitting Scrivenshaft with was a look the boy had no doubt picked up from Lucius.

Finally, Draco took a deep breath — gaze unwavering. "Who left this letter here for me?" He demanded.

"I already told yah', I don't know her name..." Scrivenshaft mumbled and Draco just about blew a casket.

Her pale face seemed to gain a tinge from anger, lips pursing.

"How the bloody hell do you not know her name if you're allowing her to leave letters here for me?" Draco hissed.

At least he now knew for certain that the person leaving these letters was a she. He had no idea how he would react if he found out this was just some stupid Weasley twin prank.

"Lad, I don't nose my way into people's business — the girl asked to test out this quill," He pointed to a red leather quill that was displayed on the glass. Draco immediately studied the red quill finding that even as it was one of his least favorable colors, he also quite liked it. "...On a piece of parchment, so I let her and that 'test' happened to be a letter that she requested be given to you if you so happen to wander in... nothing more nothing less..." Scrivenshaft finished.

Nothing more, nothing less?

NOTHING MORE, NOTHING LESS?!

Draco wanted to hex this idiot of a man — obviously, there was more to this!

"You have to remember what she looks like then! This is the second time she's requested to leave a note for me! There's no way you don't even know what color hair she had!" Draco practically yelled, his voice sounding almost hysterical.

Scrivenshaft scratched his thick beard and looked around mockingly. "Well... now that you mention it... I think she might have been blonde?"

Draco lit up — it was not much but it was something! Now he just had to figure out the house!

"Actually, maybe it was brown? Yeah, definitely brown... oh no, wait! It was red!" Scrivenshaft said before throwing about five other hair colors out there.

Immediately, Draco deflated, becoming angry as he realized the old quill man was toying with him. Now Draco was just as clueless if not more than before.

"Enough! What did she look like and what house did she belong to?" Draco spoke through clenched teeth.

Finally, Scrivenshaft rolled his eyes.

"If it wasn't obvious before, I'm not telling yah' anythin'! Both on request of the girl and that I don't know what house she's in! She's never come in wearing a Hogwarts uniform!" Scrivenshaft exclaimed.

And perhaps that was how Draco realized that he would not be able to break this man. Not when his secret admirer had already asked Scrivenshaft to not dispel any personal details about herself to Draco.

It was absolutely infuriating.

Like that Draco pointed an accusing finger at him, hissing a dramatic, "My father will hear about this!"

Lucius Malfoy most certainly would not hear about this, but that did not stop Draco from saying it.

With that, the Slytherin whirled on his heel, letter clutched in his hand as he stormed out of the quill shop. His thoughts ran a thousand miles a minute, trying to think of any way that he might be able to figure out who was leaving these letters.

★✯☆★✯☆★

Later that evening, Isabelle sat with her two closest Ravenclaw friends plus a few extras in the Great Hall. Those extras being Padma Patil and Cho Chang.

Isabelle ignored them; however, opting to talk with Clementine as she furiously attempted to solve a muggle puzzle.

Terry Boot, a sort of muggleborn (magic had skipped his family for a few generations, he was the first wizard born of the Boots' in nearly one hundred years), had lent Clementine some muggle contraption called a 'Rubix cube'.

It was a small colorful square that one had to solve to get every color in lines and rows.

Surprisingly, it was rather difficult for a muggle invention and Isabelle sat staring as Clementine continued to try and solve it. The Goldstein twin was now in her third hour of doing this as Boot had lent her the puzzle as soon as they came back from Hogsmeade earlier.

"Damn it — this is utter rubbish!" Clementine said loudly as she once again got it wrong.

Isabelle scratched the back of her head thoughtfully, but she offered no help. She had no clue how to solve something like that, but it was certainly fun to watch.

"That's it I give up! Terry!" Clementine wailed as she dropped the Rubix cube on the table.

She had long since finished her dinner, the girl choosing to eat a potato soup with bread on the side. Isabelle had chosen to eat something heavier — her plate still a quarter full with only her vegetables left.

She was not a big fan of vegetables.

Clementine was about to motion over to Terry Boot to catch his attention and give it back to him. He had asked a few different Ravenclaws to help him solve the Rubix cube, each having been unsuccessful.

Clementine was only the next person in the string of failures.

"Wait, let me try, Clem..." Isabelle said, reaching over and grabbing the colorful cube.

Clementine watched as Isabelle now tried her hand at the puzzle.

Isabelle was unable to stop her inner curiosity at trying to solve such a thing. Even if it was muggle.

Her hands moved hesitantly at first as she worked the cube, unfamiliar with the ways that it turned. As she tested the waters, her fingers soon became a bit more confident, moving faster as she discovered the way in which the cube twisted and turned.

"Isabelle!"

She looked up at the voice, seeing Padma calling to her from the other side of Anthony.

Her hands still worked on solving the puzzle despite her lack of attention to it.

"Yes?" She questioned.

"Please tell Cho that she NEEDS to talk to Cedric more! He clearly likes her!" Padma giggled while Cho blushed and looked down.

"Padma." Cho complained. "Stop it, he's going to hear you!"

The Ravenclaw table was smack in the middle of the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables. Both the Slytherin and Ravenclaw seating was longer than usual with the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang extensions.

Isabelle hated the way that Élise Barbier sat on the opposite end of the table complaining about her date with Draco.

What an ungrateful brat — did Élise truly not realize how lucky she was to have been on a date with Malfoy?

Well... Isabelle supposed most people probably would not want to go on a date with him... but she did!

Word spread fast about how horrible their date had gone, something that made a warm happy feeling grow within Isabelle.

It would appear that Clementine was right in her assumptions earlier that Draco had looked dreadfully bored on the date.

Isabelle now only wondered if he had got her letter.

However, back on track, the point is that Cedric was not sitting that far away from them: he sat near the middle of the Hufflepuff table.

If he listened hard enough he would no doubt hear Padma squealing about the crushes Cho and him have on each other.

Luckily for Cho, it appeared that Cedric was too busy talking to other Hufflepuffs to pay the Ravenclaws any mind.

Isabelle was briefly jealous. Not about Cedric liking Cho, but more for the fact that Cho's crush clearly liked her back. Those two actually talked and got along with each other. It was only a matter of time before they got together officially.

The jealousy quickly passed as Isabelle reminded herself that if she wanted anything similar then she would actually need to talk to Malfoy to get there. And other than writing him letters, that was not happening anytime soon.

And so Isabelle, rose a brow. "Cho, Cedric is clearly hard for you—" Both Anthony and Clementine choked on their air whilst Padma and Cho gaped at the foul words. "—So I personally think you just make out, or as you British say 'snog' him and make it official or whatever..."

There was a moment of silence before Anthony coughed into his hand. Except it was not a cough, it was a snide comment. "Maybe you should take your own advice..." He hacked.

Cho was confused by his words as she was not in on the secret.

Padma; however, leaned into Anthony while laughing into his shoulder. Clementine was also hiding a smile as Isabelle glared at him.

She opened her mouth, ready to retort meanly (especially because he made such a comment in front of Cho who did not know about her crush on Malfoy and hopefully never would), but as soon as Isabelle opened her mouth... her mind whirled in a series of bright colors and sounds.

To be a Witch Supreme came exactly as the name suggested.

The Witch Supreme is the ultimate witch — a supreme being of magical forces. The Supreme is said to be the living embodiment of magic itself, and when the Supreme should reach full maturity (sometime in their late 20s') the air around them is said to vibrate with their sheer power.

It is why nature only allows one Witch Supreme every few hundred years.

While there are only three other Supremes in known existence (Merlin, Morgana le Fay, and Abigail Castor) many speculate that there have been other Witch and Wizard Supremes that simply were never identified.

The purpose of the Supreme is simple: keep balance among the magical forces. In old traditions, it has been known that the power of all witches and wizards comes from the Earth. The Supreme renews these bonds for people of magic.

It is why a Supreme must come into fruition every few hundred years, otherwise these bonds weaken.

Of course, Isabelle is still young and had many years before she was expected to master the ways of the Supreme. Many years until she would reach full Supreme magical maturity.

Seeing as she was not anywhere near that, her magic was still new and tenuous.

Isabelle was powerful and talented among those of her own age, but even she would struggle if she faced off against an older witch or wizard or any other being of magic.

Unfortunately, being a Supreme does not make one immortal. More powerful? Sure. But a Supreme's life expectancy was the same as the average witch or wizard.

This all being said: Isabelle Lockley was still gaining many abilities of the Supreme.

She had legilimency, occlumency, and most elemental magic mastered. However, abilities like turning into an animagus, metamorphmagus (which is a hereditary skill for all other witches and wizards, but the Supreme had this ability, it would probably take many years before Isabelle could do this though), the Inner Eye (AKA the Sight), and many other skills that she still had to learn.

Many of these skills reflected the usual magic that witches her age had to learn, but others were skills that were typically hereditary and things that normal witches and wizards did not need to learn.

Like the metamorphmagus talents. That would no doubt take her years to understand.

However, in terms of the Sight — this skill came at the most random moments.

In other words: Isabelle Lockley was gifted with a vision from the Sight for the first time ever. And it was triggered (much to her annoyance) by Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil of all people.

While she would never admit it out loud, she was actually rather glad that her first vision of the future was a happy vision starring two of her friends.

Merlin knows it could have been something far worse.

Padma leaned against Anthony as he drove a muggle vehicle down busy London streets. He weaved in and out of traffic easily, his face lit up with joy as he and Padma listened to the muggle radio.

They both appeared older — somewhere in their mid-20s.

Surprisingly, they were both adhering to muggle clothing. And it had changed, the future look was far different than that of the 90s'. Anthony was wearing a polo with slacks — dark sunglasses covered his eyes and his brown hair was longer, more unruly than the clean-cut look he had at Hogwarts.

Padma adorned low-rise jeans with a dark tank top. Dangly golden hoop earrings hung from her ears, her face enveloped in colorful makeup.

Her hair, which had a natural wave to it, was burned straight. Half of it held back by a ponytail.

Isabelle was surprised that they both immersed themselves this heavily into muggle culture.

While neither of them were blood purists, they were still purebloods. And even purebloods who did not believe in muggle-wizard separation typically did not immerse themselves in the world of the no-maj this much.

Or at least, such a concept was rare.

But Isabelle supposed this was the future and things change in the future.

Especially when the people in question were now full-fledged adults capable of making their own choices.

The vision seemed to skip: Anthony and Padma stood outside of the vehicle, their arms linked as they took in the sight of a brick townhome in muggle London. It was on the outskirts of the city in a quieter place.

Anthony had turned his head down to look at Padma.

"For us to grow old in..." His words seemed to blur in and out of existence.

Padma smiled a thousand watts, going on her toes to kiss Anthony sweetly. Their laughter and joy echoed in Isabelle's mind.

And she knew at that moment, despite the hardships they would both face, they would grow to live happy lives.

And like that, Isabelle was thrown out of her vision, the girl gasping as her eyes went wide.

No one else noticed her sudden odd nature: Anthony and Padma still laughing at his previous comment quietly while Cho looked between them confused.

Only Clementine noticed, the girl's smile dropping as she looked at her friend worriedly.

A sudden click sounded — Clementine and Isabelle looked down only to see the Rubix cube had locked into place. Completely solved, not one color out of position.

Even through the vision, Isabelle's hands had still been twisting the Rubix cube frantically. She had solved it without even focusing on it.

Clementine gaped at this, her gaze slowly trailing up to meet Isabelle's frenzied eyes.

Isabelle swallowed harshly, her head pounding from what the Sight had delivered to her.

But before either could say anything — Terry Boot suddenly drew the attention of many at the table.

"You've solved it!" He cried out rather loudly.

Padma moved away from Anthony, both of them with nearly invisible pink tints on their faces as they realized that in the midst of their laughing, they had been all up on each other. Cho smiled knowingly but chose not to say anything — looking to Terry Booth instead.

Anthony and Padma quickly took their attention off each other out of embarrassment, darting their gazes between Terry and Isabelle.

A few other Ravenclaws looked at the scene with curiosity, a few of them having already tried to solve the muggle puzzle to no avail. To see someone had actually solved it within minutes was more than impressive.

Isabelle stared at Terry blankly, slowly looking at the solved Rubix cube.

How she had done that — she had no clue.

"Yup, here ya' go..." she said, her accent thick as she stood up, tossing the solved Rubix cube to a happy Terry.

He turned the cube every which way to confirm that it was in fact solved. His grin turned even bigger as he was met with not a color out of place.

Isabelle hastily grabbed her bag, muttering some half-assed excuse before leaving the table.

Anthony and Padma watched her go questioningly but said nothing as they soon fell into another conversation with Cho and Terry. Michael had also joined them seeing Isabelle leave.

Clementine chose to be a good friend (as she was also the only one who knew about the Supreme stuff), grabbed her own bag, and followed Isabelle off.

Isabelle was walking to the doors, deep in thought about the new ability that had just presented itself.

She was meant to tell Dumbledore every time a new ability appeared, but this had not happened during her time at Hogwarts thus far so she had not had to do so.

What was Dumbledore going to do about it? Make her go home? Make her see Trelawney about her Inner Eye?

Isabelle shivered at the thought, she surely hoped not. For both of those. She did not want to go home so her mother could help her master the Inner Eye nor did she want Trelawney to train her.

Maybe she should just keep it under wrap and attempt to master it on her own. Surely one of her grimoires could help her — she was always a rather hands-off learner anyway. She did not need someone to walk her through something, she could learn just as well from the text.

As she neared the large doors, between the end of the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, she was so focused on her thoughts that she did not notice him standing up from the Slytherin table.

Unfortunately, she was walking rather quickly and he stood up rather abrubtly as well.

She bumped into him harshly, the girl letting out a wheeze of air at the collision.

Draco Malfoy yelped as someone rammed into his side, the boy nearly falling back into his seat if he had not managed to catch himself. His white-blond hair shifted from the sudden movement.

He was slim with a sharp jawline and sharper features. Draco was not particularly muscular nor was he all that tall, but he was not short, and he was taller than Potter so that was all that mattered. While he was slim, he was not scrawny — he had grown up never needing to fear when the next time he would eat would be.

There was always food and more available when he was hungry.

Say what you want about his parents, but Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy never let their son grow up feeling unloved.

There may have been a lot of pressure on him to uphold the Malfoy standards, but he was spoiled nonetheless.

And he played quidditch, so that helped in terms of building his strength.

Overall, the point was that Draco Malfoy was not easily one to fall over from being hit.

Unless Crabbe or Goyle went mad and punched him one day, but that would never happen. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on and his family name did enough to scare most into submission.

That's why he was so surprised as he stumbled — surprise that quickly turned into irritation.

Especially seeing as his day of a shitty date that turned into trying to figure out who was behind his letters had hit a dead end.

A sneer painted across the boy's features, his silver eyes glowing with disdain as his fist clenched angrily.

His head snapped around, the boy ready to chew out who dared knock into him.

"How dare you—!" He spat, turning around only to come face-to-face with... nothing?

His features schooled into confusion. Obviously, someone had to have been there — it could not have been air!

"What the bloody hell?!" He asked himself in an upset manner.

"What is it, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson asked in a worried tone from where she sitting.

It appeared that no one else had seen who ran into him.

Pansy immediately came flocking back to his side once she heard about his date from hell.

Draco closed his eyes in an irritated manner, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"Nothing, Pansy..." He hissed, trying his hardest not to snap at her for the air apparently hitting him. "Nothing at all..." He said in a sour tone as he sat back down glaring to the space in front of him.

Pansy did not say anything else to him. No one did seeing the scowl resting on his face.

Isabelle, on the other hand, had never moved faster. When she realized she had bumped into Draco Malfoy and made him stumble — she was gone faster than the speed of light.

She huffed from her place outside the Great Hall where she was leaning against a wall and huffing.

"Izzy?"

Isabelle jumped and let out a small bark of a scream as Clementine came up from behind her.

Isabelle took a breath of relief, eyes blown wide as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Merlin's beard, Clem, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I wasn't trying to—!" Clementine was quick to defend herself.

Isabelle ignored her, cutting the girl off by grabbing her arm.

"C' mon! Something just happened but I can't tell you out here!"

And like that, Clementine yelped as Isabelle Lockley pulled her through the corridors and toward the Ravenclaw common room.