Magical Muggle

Draco stared at the face looking back at him from the mirror. He was paralyzed with shock, for he knew that he didn't look like that. Maybe his hair was too long and fine to be called masculine, but he'd never seen a girl's face before when he looked into the mirror. He blinked his silver eyes and rubbed them briskly, then looked again. He jumped back a good foot when she reached out a hand to him.

"Help me," she whispered to him, though her lips never moved. "Help me, Son of Slytherin." Her eyes were the same green as the crest on his Slytherin prefect's robes. Her hair was pale blonde, like his own, almost platinum silver. She wore an outfit that seemed to him better suited to a Muggle girl: a pair of blue jeans and a royal blue blouse. He stared helplessly at the image, still unable to move away.

"How can I help you?" he asked, startling himself with the sound of his voice. "How did you get in there?"

"I don't know. If I knew, certainly I could figure out a way to get myself out, don't you think?" she asked waspishly, now that she had his full attention. "As to how you can help me, try reaching out your hand. It's usually the simplest answers that are the right ones." Draco nodded and swallowed. He knew that by all laws of common sense, or rather of any sense whatsoever, he should not be doing what he was about to. But her eyes... her eyes were begging him to get her out of the mirror.

So, against all forms of sense, in the vaguest definition of the word, he put out his hand and pressed it against the mirror. The stone room echoed with a soundless explosion and his vision went gray. Someone screamed with anger and Draco's world went black.

After finding herself somewhere she'd never seen before in her life, Maurae tried to bludgeon her brain into doing something. All she could manage was convincing it to look around after her eyes had cleared. She'd been asleep, she knew that much. Dreaming about a mirror, and... beyond that she couldn't remember. Probably dreaming about Callae, again, and her attempts to get free of her mirror prison. She'd had the same dream before.

After her eyes had cleared of the negative afterimages from her dream, she sat up and looked around, fully expecting to see her familiar walls draped with posters from Star Wars, slightly blurry red glow from her alarm clock across the room on her dark blur of a dresser. Instead, she was met with clear vision of stone walls, stone floors, an elegant, expensive four post wooden bed draped in green, and, oddly enough, a boy about her own age, sprawled out on the floor, draped in black.

She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. When she looked again, her vision was still perfect, and the boy was still there. For the first time in her life, she felt giddy enough to faint, but her practical side took over, telling her that fainting would be unproductive. She grabbed onto that very practical hand and held on for dear life until the feeling passed. True to her nature, she hauled herself onto her hands and knees and crawled over to him.

"Hello?" she asked, startling herself with the sound of her own voice and the way it echoed in the stone room. "Are you... dead?" She lifted her hand to check his pulse, then set it down again. Then she lifted it again, gritted her teeth and pressed her warm fingers against his throat. She leapt back with a yelp as he sat bolt upright like he'd been electrocuted.

"Aaaaaahhh!" he screamed, grabbing his throat, but it came out as more of a whine than a scream. He scooted backwards on the floor, staring at her with anger, self-disgust, and something akin to fear in his cold silver eyes. "Who are you?" he rasped out.

"I should like to ask you the same question. I'd also like to ask you what exactly you're doing in my dream. I could ask you any number of questions, and I should like to as well, but I won't." She was surprised at her cynical speech, and she tilted her head. Her voice had sounded strange. "Of course, I suppose it would make sense to ask you where I am right now." She frowned and opened her mouth to say something so she might figure out what was wrong with her voice.

"You're in the Slytherin dungeon, of course. My private, locked bedroom, I might add," he said, dispelling the fear and focusing on sarcasm instead. Maurae's eyes widened, a reaction that seemed to satisfy him, until he noticed her eyes were not green, like in the mirror, but brown. Her hair was the same, until, as he watched, it darkened from a pale silver to chestnut brown. He stared.

"Did you... just say..." She sat down quickly, her mouth wide open. She felt the cold through the nightgown she wore, thinking absently that she was certainly dressed for dreaming. She looked back across at him and smiled easily, no longer frightened, and having worked it all out in her mind. "I'm dreaming," she told him casually. "See, I'm even wearing my nightgown, so you can't be real, and I have to be dreaming."

Indeed, Draco had noticed her nighttime apparel, and was trying to force his mind past the singular thought that she was really quite attractive, and sitting on the floor of his bedroom not dressed in much. He snorted at her words.

"I'm real enough. It must be you that isn't real because I can certainly feel myself." She looked a little confused at this.

"Then... maybe..." She frowned again. "What is wrong with my voice?" she suddenly asked randomly. He raised one eyebrow. She looked at him squarely and imitated his gesture.

"There isn't anything wrong with your voice," he said. "You don't have a stammer or a lisp, or even a bloody accent, so if we could get back to the matter at hand?" he replied, exasperated. Her face brightened.

"That's it! My accent!"

"I told you already," he began with a sigh. She cut him off.

"I shouldn't have an accent, but I do." She glanced at his face. "Of course, not to your ears, but to mine. I sound English, but I'm not."

"Yes, that's all very well. What House do you belong to? I'm going to have to report this, as a school prefect."

"Oh, that... well... I don't think anyone will care. I don't belong here. At this school, I mean. I belong back home, in bed, ready to go to school tomorrow, on a bus."

"You expect me to believe that you're a Muggle?"

"Okay, you said Muggle, now I know I'm dreaming." Draco shook his head, a stabbing pain throbbing behind his eyes. He closed them for a moment.

"Will you come with me, please?" he asked politely, walking to the door and holding it open for her. Maurae smiled and followed him from the room, calmly accepting the fact that she was dreaming and holding onto it as tightly as she could. Draco led her through a large room draped with green the same as his bed and out through a stone wall that swung open at their approach. She accepted it all calmly from all her years of reading the Harry Potter fantasy books. Small wonder she was dreaming about it, though none of her other dreams had ever been this vivid or long. She followed Draco only at a few steps, looking around her in awe, trying to fix it all in her mind. He led her up two flights of stairs, through seventeen torch-lit doorways, and past twelve suits of polished armor until they arrived at a stone statue of the ugliest gargoyle she'd ever seen. "Sugar Quills," Draco said to it, creating an opening in the wall, which he led her through. Up another, winding staircase, and they paused in front of a wooden door. Voices emanated from within, and he knocked briskly on the door. It swung open and he shooed her through it. The door closed behind them.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy. And... I'm sorry, my dear, I don't recognize you," a man said from behind the huge desk. He had sparkling blue eyes that stared right through her, and long silver hair that covered his chin and all of his head.

"I'm Maurae. You don't want my last name, believe me. It's too hard to say, even for people who've known me a while," she replied cheerfully, striding forward to take his offered hand.

"Try me," he said, smothering a smile.

"Grabeklis."

"Ah, I see. Latvian, is it not?" She stared at him, impressed, and nodded. "Your grandfather was the Latvian, wasn't he?"

"He was. How did you know?"

"I have a better question for you, Maurae. How did you arrive here?" She shrugged eloquently. He turned to look at Draco, who echoed her gesture.

"She appeared in my room, Professor. I don't know any better than she." Maurae took the seat he'd offered, waiting for Draco to sit down. He remained standing. "I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I didn't know where else to take her. I thought she was crazy when she told me she was American, but now that you've spoken with her..."

Maurae suddenly spoke up, fear beginning to appear in the lines of her posture. "I'm not dreaming, am I?" Dumbledore turned his gaze on her again, and she nearly flinched, panicking.

"I'm afraid not, child," he said, as gently as he could. Her eyes widened and the pupils grew, almost hiding the brown iris. This time when her body told her to faint, she did.

The first light that shone through her eyelashes was a dagger to her sensitive eyes. She blinked rapidly as her pupils shrank slowly. Then she rolled over and groaned. "I need curtains," she muttered to her arms. She sat up and threw off the covers. "Mom, why didn't you... AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" Her question ended in a scream so loud, four or five people leapt from beds or chairs and the doors at either ends of the room banged open to spew people. Maurae dived back under the blankets, holding the thin pillow over her head and shaking in fright. "It's not real, it's only a dream... it's not real, it's only a dream..." she murmured, her voice growing louder and shakier with each repetition. She shook so hard her teeth began to rattle together as she spoke.

Gentle hands lifted the pillow and then the blankets off her. She looked up into a kind face that did not belong to her mother. She wanted to faint, but as usual, her body wouldn't oblige her. She stared, tears finally making it past her thick eyelashes. She began to sob.

"Shh... quiet now, dear," whispered a soothing voice. Maurae gave the woman a dirty look.

"Would you be quiet if you'd just learned that you weren't at home, in your bed, where you should be on a Saturday morning? Because, I assure you that I have absolutely no intention of being quiet again until I find out why the hell I am here!" Her voice had risen in both pitch and volume until she was shouting at the woman. She crossed her arms over her chest, less terrified now than angry, which was good, because she'd have plenty of time for fear later. "So don't tell me to be quiet until you can tell me why I'm here!"

"Miss Grabeklis, I expected more from you," chided another voice, this one male and familiar. She turned to see Dumbledore walking towards her, flanked by a good two-dozen people approximately her own age. She slid off the bed and to her feet, not at all cowed by his comment.

"Yes, well, I expected to be home and in bed when I woke up, but I'm not, as you can very well see!" she replied, gesturing to the room around them. She glared at him, and he appeared a little surprised by her sarcasm.

He recovered quickly. "Since you are here without cause, we must assume you were brought here by magical forces. Until such time as you return to your home by other magical forces, we shall provide you a home." Maurae shook her head.

"This is all too much for me," she said, sitting back down on the bed. "I suddenly arrived here, and..." She trailed off, thinking about her dreams prior to appearing in Draco's bedroom. "Mirror demon..." she murmured under her breath. She shook her head again. When she looked up, her face was resigned. "You know, I am not magical. Not at all. No magical blood in me." Dumbledore smiled.

"Not true. Your great-grandfather was a powerful wizard." Maurae smiled.

"I have no magical blood. Grabeklis is not my birth surname. My mom married him when I was fourteen. Didn't even meet him until the Christmas before my fourteenth birthday." Dumbledore kept smiling.

"I didn't say your great-grandfather Grabeklis was a powerful wizard. What I meant was your great-grandfather Sullivan, your grandmother's father. Elizabeth had half-magical blood, but wanted none of it. She married a Muggle, and raised normal, Muggle children." Maurae gaped at him, then closed her mouth.

"How did you know that my maternal grandmother's maiden name was Elizabeth Sullivan?" she asked, somewhat miffed that he'd proved her wrong. He shook his head.

"Another time. Now, had you not been born in the United States, we would have at least notified you of your magical blood. That is standard policy. However, you are right in saying that you have no magical powers. Your blood has been diluted too much by Muggle blood." He stopped. "Therefore, we cannot allow you to attend classes with the other students, but there is no where you could stay until we are able to send you back. The House prefects will conduct a ceremonial Sorting to place you where you will stay for the time you spend with us. That House will provide you a place to sleep, a place to eat, and clothes to wear." He turned and left the infirmary, leaving her with the nurse and the twenty-four prefects. She sat perched on the edge of the bed and sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

They let her change, first, into something a little more concealing than her nightgown. When she reappeared from behind the curtain, they all started in on her at once. She simply stared at them until their voices trailed off one by one.

"Thank you," was all she said.

"Well, I think introductions would take too long, so let's just start with you," drawled a voice she remembered. "Name?"

"You know my name," she replied perfectly calmly, determined to be contrary. Draco's eyes blazed and she offered him a cat's insolent grin. He flushed with anger but managed to hold his tongue.

"I think he meant for the benefit of those of us who don't know your name," interrupted a different voice. Maurae turned to look at the speaker. His dark, tousled hair fell over his forehead and into eyes greener than bottle glass. He offered a lopsided smile. "If you don't mind."

"My name is Maurae." Draco sighed. "I'm set to turn eighteen in two weeks."

Someone giggled at her phrasing and she smiled slightly, not finding it very funny. She nodded her permission for the continued questioning and hoisted herself up onto the bed. "All right, that helps. Um... where are you from?"

"Colorado, right smack in the middle of the U S of A," she replied with a drawl imitating cowboy movies. Someone else laughed and the whole group noticeably relaxed. "What else could you possibly want to know about me? Come on! Ask me any question you like. If I don't like it, the worst I could do is not answer, right? So bring it on."

"What do you study in your Muggle school?"

"Human anatomy and physiology, psychology, math analysis, physics, French, English Literature, choral music... that's all this year."

"You study... what are all those?"

"Which don't you know?" she countered.

"The two after psychology."

"Math analysis and physics. Math anal is... well, I don't quite know how to explain math anal, except as my least favorite class and the biggest waste of my time imaginable. Physics is the study of all manner of things, like light and sound and heat and motion. The physical world."

"What is your family like?"

"Wonderful. My mom is the awesomest, my dad is pretty cool, for a guy his age. My brother... what's to be said? My brother is a pain in the tail, but he's my brother and I love him. Now you're getting personal. You've been warned."

"What about personal values?"

"I suppose you need those to decide where I belong?" she asked. Not noticing any answer, she went ahead. "Family is number one. Learning, loyalty, friendship, honesty... the determination to do what's right... perseverance... things like that are what's important in life. Success is nice, so are heroics, but they aren't essential to living life." She stopped and tilted her head to the side, meeting Draco's eyes over someone's head. He was watching her hungrily, waiting for her to say something that would give him cause to claim her for his House. She declined his challenge with her next words. "Living for others is what makes life worth it." He grimaced and turned his head away, breaking eye contact.

"I think we've a good idea of where you'd fit in," commented one of the prefects, a girl with sandy hair and amber colored eyes.

"I think..." Maurae began, her voice low and quiet. The prefect spoke over her.

"All the Houses teach something. You have qualities that could place you in any House you'd like." Draco spoke up suddenly.

"She should spend time with us, down in Slytherin. She could learn a few things about success then." He glared stonily at anyone who opened his mouth to protest. Everyone backed down under the force of his glare. Finally, they nodded. "Slytherin it is, then," he said smugly. Maurae shook her head and smiled brightly.

"I would absolutely love that," she drawled, imitating Draco perfectly. Her performance startled laughs out of many of the prefects. She stood and offered a little bow, then sat again, suddenly somber.

"Settled already? Good. Now go, before I throw you all out. This girl needs her rest. She's had quite a shock."

"No, thank you. I'm fine. Shock or no, I'm all right." She batted the nurse's hands away and turned her back, staring idly at the wall. She tilted her head to one side and smiled weakly. "Why won't it go away?" she murmured so no one could hear her. She felt the other prefects leave and heard Draco approach her warily. She sat still, arms encircling the knees she'd brought to her chest.

Warily, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, new girl," he said lightly, teasingly. "Let's go get you some normal clothes." Obediently, she stood, turned and followed him, mildly surprised that he was a few inches taller than she. She'd always pictured him shorter. He led her down the same path he had last night (or was it last night?), in reverse. When they reached the stone wall, he turned. "This password is how you'll get into the common room. You have to remember it and keep it a secret from everyone. Okay?"

"I know what a password is," she replied wearily. He shrugged.

"Pure-blood." The wall slid open with a grinding noise. He led her through, past the occupied chairs and tables, with their openly curious eyes. They stopped before a door, and Draco knocked once.

"Come in," called a singsong voice from inside. He opened the door for her and they entered. "Ah, so this is the pretty Muggle you found, Draco," said a girl inside. She smiled a little too sweetly at Maurae, who offered a fake smile of her own. Draco ignored the exchange. "I found those robes, like you asked. They're on the bed." The girl went back to her mirror.

"Thanks, Pansy." He turned to Maurae. "Maurae, this is Pansy. She is also a Slytherin prefect, and she's agreed to share her room with you until you leave. She found robes for you to wear. You'll sleep on the bed by the window. Any questions?"

"No, thank you." He nodded and left. Pansy turned to Maurae, a scowl on her face.

"Stay away from Draco, girl. He's mine, understand?"

"Of course," Maurae replied, nodding. "I wouldn't dream of trying to usurp your place with him." Pansy squawked, outraged.

"Are you saying he's not good enough for you?!" she cried. Maurae giggled in spite of herself.

"Not at all. It's just that I already have someone. I wouldn't dream of taking your someone." Maurae crossed her fingers against the lie. She didn't have a someone, and she didn't really want one either. But she knew the truth about Pansy and Draco. Pansy offered a sly smile. Maurae returned an openly honest one. She crossed the room to the bed near the window and picked up the robes. "Thank you, very much for allowing me to room with you, Pansy. I really appreciate it." Pansy glowed pink and nodded, pretending to look in the mirror at her makeup. Maurae pulled the pajama pants off and yanked on the skirt, making a face. "I hate skirts," she muttered. Off came the pajama top, and in its place went a white blouse, charcoal sweater, and green and silver tie. She tied it expertly and tucked it into the front of the sweater. Over it all came the black robe, tied in front with black lacings and emblazoned with a green and silver crest over the left breast. Pansy smiled.

"You look like one of us," she commented. "However, we need to do something about that hair." Immediately, Pansy sat her down in front of the vanity and grabbed a brush. She proceeded to brush out Maurae's chestnut curls and arrange them in a half tail, French braid. As she stood back to admire her work, someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" Pansy called, stepping forward to fix a little bit of the top. Someone cleared his throat. Pansy turned. "We'll be ready in a minute. Breakfast can wait that long, Terrence." The door closed and Maurae smiled. "Do you know anything about makeup?" Pansy asked.

"A little."

"You can do your own, then. I still have to get changed." Pansy gave Maurae free run of the vanity's contents and then turned away to change for breakfast. Maurae dove gleefully into the glitter. She swirled it over her eyelids along with a soft silver powder, and dabbed a little pale peach color onto her lips. When Pansy turned around again, dressed, Maurae was ready. Pansy nodded her approval. "Very nice." She then led Maurae from the room and down some stairs to the common room draped in green. Very few people remained, having already left for breakfast, and Maurae realized that it was as Pansy had wanted it- she would make a grand entrance.

Maurae's sense of direction helped her memorize the path to the Great Hall, even though Pansy stopped at side corridors often to check her hair or makeup. They got to the huge doors and stopped again. "Professor Dumbledore wanted to announce your presence before you showed up in the Hall, so let's wait a minute." Maurae nodded, not entirely trusting this assessment, but she listened to the muffled words coming from within the huge room.

"She's a brave person... wonderful young woman... sure you'll all be polite... in Slytherin... help her out when she needs... remember to show her... wonderful school Hogwarts..." The doors swung open of their own accord, and Maurae was suddenly petrified. Her glittered eyes widened and she opened her mouth slightly. Pansy looked at her and grabbed her sweatered arm, dragging her into the room.

The silence was overwhelming at first. Just as she was getting used to it, the whole room- over 1,000 students- burst into thunderous applause. She heard a few catcalls, some whistles, and even a couple lewd comments that made her blush pink. Taking her cue from Pansy (useful for once), she stood taller and followed the other girl over to a table filled with boys and girls wearing the same colors she was. She smiled brightly, carefully concealing her nervously twisting emotions with the ease of long, long practice.

Unfortunately, she soon realized that her "Housemates" were not very pleasant people, nor experienced conversationalists. She poked at her food (what looked like waffles, French toast, sausage, and eggs. Way too much for her to eat on her own.) and looked around. At first, she didn't notice it, but as she continued to glance around the huge room, she saw more and more faces turned towards her, not all of them male. She was particularly interested in the Gryffindor table. She knew a lot more about the wizarding world than they realized, from the Harry Potter books, and while it was distinctly weird to be here, it was kind of fun to see what things looked like in real life.

There was Ron Weasley, identified by the bright red hair. Then that must be Ginny, a little farther down the table. Harry Potter sat next to Ron, obviously. She had a sneaking suspicion that it was he who had joked her into giving them her name earlier. On the other side of Harry was a girl that could only be Hermione. Her brown hair was the same color as Maurae's own. Maurae met Hermione's intelligent gaze and was startled to find the girl actually watching her. Maurae gifted her with a smile and let her eyes go off roaming down the table for more faces she thought she should know.

She'd identified Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, Colin Creevy, Dennis Creevy, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown by the time Pansy decided to elbow her in the ribs to get her attention.

"Don't stare, especially not at the Gryffindor lowlifes," she hissed through a mouthful of bacon and eggs. Maurae smiled at her.

"I was admiring the stonework," she said, her voice low. She went back to picking at her breakfast, occasionally putting a small bite in her mouth. Let's face it, after discovering that it wasn't all a dream or a tremendous joke, she wasn't all that hungry. She knew she'd regret it later, but she just couldn't eat. Shortly thereafter, the students began to get to their feet to go to the first class of the day. Somehow, Dumbledore managed to catch her eyes from across the Hall, and motioned for her to stay where she was. The room slowly emptied, some of the Gryffindors and Slytherins remaining, pretending to finish their meal. Maurae stood as the old man approached. She offered a slight bow of her head and neck.

"Well, my dear. You seem to be doing well."

"I want to go home. What am I to do while everyone else is learning? Sit on my hands and hum?" His eyes twinkled.

"What would you like to do?"

"Write in my journal. Do the mounds of homework that I have due on Monday. Read a book I still need to finish. Go outside and run around until I fall down, exhausted. Any number of things. The appropriate question is what am I allowed to do?" Dumbledore's smile grew and he actually laughed.

"Very good. Very good. I suppose you may do what you'd like. Of course, I cannot help you with your homework, or the book you need to finish. But we do have an extensive library, and I would be happy to find a journal for you somewhere. You may, of course, go outside. We have no rules against that." He smiled and glanced around. Maurae followed his eyes when they came to rest on Hermione, Harry, Ron, and another boy she didn't recognize. Hermione turned just at that moment and Dumbledore caught her eye. "I shall have Hermione escort you to the library." He waved her over and she came, followed by her comrades. "Miss Granger, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Grabeklis to the library?" Hermione nodded eagerly. Dumbledore smiled, nodded and left without another word.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, offering a hand that wasn't full of schoolbooks. "We don't have a class now, so would you mind if I brought these fellows along?"

"Of course not. I'm Maurae."

"This is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, seventh years in Gryffindor, and Peter Graham. He's a Ravenclaw seventh year." Maurae nodded to and shook hands with each. As Hermione led, they left the Great Hall for the library. "Hogwarts has a great library. A couple years ago, Madam Pince added a new section called Magical Muggle Fiction. Some of the books in it are quite interesting. Muggles see magic in many forms, but they don't really believe in it, so they just make it into stories." Hermione smiled. "So not only are you a Muggle, you're also an American. What's it like, living in the United States?"

"Dirty," she replied promptly. "I suppose I don't mean that in a literal sense. Americans seem to be the world's garbage. High crime rates, exponentially growing population, substandard education... things like that. Don't get me wrong, I'm a patriot, but there are so many things to learn, and we can't learn them because our government would rather spend money on building weapons of mass destruction that we say other nations aren't allowed to possess, instead of on education, like we should." She shrugged. "I guess I'm just used to it."

"Sounds interesting," Hermione said absently, pushing open a door. Maurae stood in the doorway and stared.

"I have never seen this many books all in one place. And I own a small library myself." She looked up, up, up at the shelves, seeing them stretch to the ceiling at least three stories above. She found herself being propelled forward to a table with six chairs around it. The others set down their things and sat, except Hermione.

"Here, I'll show you the new section." She took Maurae's arm and led her away, towards the back, and a staircase leading up to the second level. They climbed the stairs and Hermione pulled her past a section of huge, leather-bound books to a section tucked away, and filled with small paperback novella. Maurae's eyes widened.

"You're kidding," she said, eyes smiling as her mouth gaped, surprised. She reached over and pulled a book off the shelf. "This is the book I need to finish." Hermione looked at her. "I cannot believe this." She saw the books next to it and nearly laughed out loud in delight. Glancing over the shelves, she saw something that sparked her interest. "Don't tell me..." she began, trotting over to the ladder on wheels. She climbed up four or five shelf heights and rolled herself towards the books. This time she did laugh out loud. "I am in heaven," she said. She climbed back down, book in hand and smiled warmly at Hermione. The other girl smiled back and they went down the stairs to the table and the boys, where Maurae dropped into an empty seat. She removed the robe and the green and silver tie, folding them over the back of her chair. She leaned back, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her skirt in firmly around them. Then she opened the book to find the page she was on.

Chuckling softly, she fell into the story.

Hermione watched for a while before pulling out her homework- a parchment essay, four feet long- for Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had invited Head Boy Peter to join them for studying because she was tutoring him in Muggle Studies.

It was ten minutes before Hermione realized that Maurae hadn't turned a page. She was staring at the book with a dreamily vacant cast to her eyes. She smiled and tapped her on the shoulder. Maurae automatically turned a page, then blinked. She turned to Hermione and smiled again.

"I was wondering how your book is. I haven't read that one yet."

"It's lovely. I love this book."

"What's it about?"

"It's about four ten-year-old kids who have ambient magic. This particular one is the last in the series, when Briar, the boy, goes into quarantine for a new, unknown disease. When he gets out, he has to help find a cure. Then his teacher gets sick and almost dies. He would rather kill himself than live without her. She ends up losing the ability to speak, but she relearns it. A good book, actually." Hermione nodded, impressed.

"You've read it before?"

"Yep. A couple of times." She went back to her book as Hermione turned back to her essay.

Maurae became lost in the book again. It was almost a half hour before sounds started making it through her reading barrier. "No, Peter. I don't think that was it. It was Michael Faraday."

"But it says in our book that Benjamin Franklin invented electricity."

"Ben Franklin only discovered that lightning was electricity. Michael Faraday developed it and created the light bulb," Maurae said suddenly. They all looked over at her as she turned a page, still apparently absorbed in her book. "Ben Franklin used a kite in a rainstorm to prove his theory that lightning held electricity, which could be used as a powerful energy source. Michael Faraday later developed Ben's idea and refined it until he could actually use electricity as an energy source. Thus, he invented the light bulb, providing steady illumination stronger and more reliable than flame." She stopped and turned another page, still managing to read and recount history at the same time. All four of them stared at her.

"I'm Muggle born and I didn't even know that," Hermione said at last. Maurae looked up from her page.

"You never went to Muggle high school, where they drum it into your brain until you learn. It's not exactly the stuff they teach you in grade school." She returned to her book, smiling to herself. A bell rang overhead and they began to gather their things for class.

"Charms next," Harry remarked. Maurae waved goodbye absently, too busy reading to notice their departure. "Boy, Hermione, she's just like you when you're reading," he teased as they left. Maurae looked up as the door shut behind them. Madam Pince was walking towards her, a sour look on her face.

"Good Morning," Maurae said softly, marking her place with a spare piece of parchment. The librarian looked at her.

"Young lady, there are certain library rules I expect you to know and obey. The first is never raise your voice in here. The second, be kind to my books or you will earn yourself detention. And by being nice, I mean never dog-ear my pages. Never leave a book open facedown; it is hard on the spine. Never mark your place with anything but paper. Do not eat while reading my books. Do not drink while reading my books. Leave them inside at all times. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I swear I will respect your books and respect your library," Maurae replied seriously, though her eyes crinkled with mirth. The woman looked at her hard for a moment before leaving, the sour look still on her face. Maurae picked up the book and opened it, determined to finish it within the next half hour before she went outside.

She finally reached the last page when the library doors opened, admitting two dozen or so students about seventeen. She read it as fast as she could, then climbed to her feet to put it back on the shelf where she'd found it.

She put it back and trotted down the stairs to retrieve the robe and tie she'd left draped over her chair. Draco Malfoy was sitting in her seat, leaning back casually. She sighed and went to retrieve them anyway. He looked up as she approached.

"Ah, look who we have. Join us," he said, phrasing it more like a demand than a request. She smiled and pulled her things free.

"No, thank you. I'm going outside." She pulled the robe on and turned, leaving the library before he could reply too well. A few moments later, he caught up with her on the stairs. "You don't have to accompany me, you know," she said acidly, stuffing the tie in a pocket of her robe. He said nothing, but continued to follow her. She shut up and let him.

He followed her as she headed for the lake, watching their breath puff in the chilly air. The lake was dark and smooth, not disturbed by the light breeze teasing Maurae's hair. She leaned out over it and stared at her glittery reflection in the deep water. She leaned down and pulled up a handful of water to wipe her face with. The glitter clung to her skin stubbornly.

"Damn," she muttered, pulling more water to wash her face. A pale hand thrust a handkerchief in front of her face. She took it and scrubbed. "Thank you," she said softly, rinsing it off in the lake. She wrung it dry and handed it back to him.

"You look better without makeup. More human, more alive. Pansy needs that stuff to make herself pretty. You don't." He followed her again as she wandered around the lake and into the trees. It wasn't quite the Forbidden Forest, but it was getting close.

"Thank you," she said simply. They both jumped when they heard an animal scream followed by loud thrashing in the bushes. Draco grabbed her arm and started to tow her back the way they'd come, but Maurae pulled away. "It was just a wolf," she said quietly.

"There are werewolves in this forest," he remarked blandly. She stared at him, scared.

"Okay, that would be cause for alarm." This time when he reached for her, she allowed him to lead her away. The animal screamed, closer this time, and the two teens were still surrounded by trees and darkness. Draco was looking for a way that would take them back to the school when Maurae cried out and tumbled to the ground next to his feet. He whirled, whipping out his wand. He stared.

The creature standing on her back was all black. Its head was shaped with a wolf's muzzle, filled with a feline's sharp fangs. The paws were tipped with feline claws, and the tail was shaped as a wolf's. The fur covering the body was rough and shaggy, while the fur around its small face was smooth and sleek. The body was a wolf's with a chest supporting large lungs. The eyes were the most startling- a wolf's amber-brown, they were slit-pupiled like a cat's. Draco swallowed hard.

The Felanoid kitten stared back at him and promptly sat on Maurae's back. The girl sat up with a lurch, and the tiny creature hung on to her robe with its claws. Once she was fully upright, the little thing climbed up her shoulder to drape itself over her shoulders and neck, purring loudly, like a cat. Maurae looked at her new addition, then at Draco.

"I think she's decided to adopt me," she said calmly. Draco shook with barely suppressed fear and anger.

"Don't you know what that is?" he asked. "No, of course not. What you have draped around your neck is a Felanoid. A female Felanoid. Felanoids are vicious, deadly creatures that kill everything they come into contact with that is not their bonded companion. And they only bond once in a lifetime, which tends to run at about 70 to 80 years! They're wicked fast, smart, and..."

"So maybe she chose me as her bond. Really, she hasn't killed me, in case you were confused," Maurae responded waspishly, before she noticed his paper-white skin and shaking hands. She stood slowly, trying not to jar her passenger. "Draco," she said, putting a hand on his arm, the one holding his wand. He turned his wide silver eyes on her and she froze, lost in his eyes.

He was similarly transfixed. Pansy's eyes were blue, and he had only ever looked at them once, when he'd told her he didn't love her like she wanted him to. He had never stared at anyone, much less a girl, like this before. He found he quite liked it. He covered her hand on his arm with his other hand and looked down, drawing her gaze to their joined fingers. Then he lifted a hand to her face.

At least, that was his intention. As soon as the hand came within range, the kitten lashed out, claws extended, and drew four bloody tracks in his skin. Maurae and Draco leapt apart, and Maurae tumbled the kitten from her shoulders into her arms.

"No!" she exclaimed, swatting its rump. Draco looked up while she disciplined her "pet." She glanced up and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry."

He waved it off. "So, what are you going to do with it?"

"Her, and I don't know. She needs a proper name, don't you think?" Draco shook his head, resigned to the fact that she was going to keep the thing.

"I guess. So, what will you call it- her?"

"I don't know. Whatever she likes."

"What would she like?"

"I have no idea." As Draco led them back to the castle, they tried brainstorming name ideas. The little kitten shook her puppy's head to each one. Finally, they ran out of names and started trying mythical creatures. "Dragon," Maurae suggested with a wink at Draco. The Felanoid shook her head. Draco grinned and tried one of his own.

"Unicorn? Luna? Pegasus?" She shook her head to all three. Draco sighed.

"Griffin?"

"You can't call her that! Not in Slytherin House!" Draco protested, but it was already too late. The kitten had nodded her head eagerly. Maurae smiled at Draco.

"Sorry. She chose it."

"Great. It's not bad enough that it's a female Felanoid. It had to be a female Felanoid that wants to be called Griffin." He shook his head as they climbed the stairs to the front doors. He pushed one open and let her through before following. Just inside, Dumbledore waited.

"Ah," he said, seeing Griffin perched on Maurae's shoulder. "I see you've found something to occupy yourself with," he remarked casually, as though it was a simple kitten, and not a deadly magical creature that sat there. "Mister Malfoy, I believe you have schoolwork to attend to. I would like to speak privately with Miss Grabeklis for a moment." Draco nodded reluctantly and climbed the stairs to return to the library. When he was gone, Dumbledore drew her along the corridor. "No doubt Mister Malfoy has told you exactly what this creature is."

"Yes, sir. He told me."

"She will be your responsibility, and I expect to hear no reports of mauled students at its hands... er, claws. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir. It is a she and her name is Griffin." His eyes sparkled with amusement, then turned serious again.

"Good, good. Now, my dear, as the prefects have told you, each House has something to teach you. There is one class I think you would enjoy, and it is the only... one of the only classes I can let you participate in. Peter told me of your aiding him with his Muggle Studies homework, and I think that class could be a good place for you to go and learn. Also, Astronomy and Runic Studies are open classes for you because neither involves real magic. You cannot spend every day here doing nothing." He stopped to gauge her response.

"I would love that. Absolutely love it!" she assured him. He smiled. I will inform Professors Sinistra, Lewis and Montague. We will see about getting you the proper equipment for each class. I suppose you'd better go back to your room and change. Your robes have holes and tears in them." He left her so dazzled she couldn't even call a thank you after him.

Happily, she trotted down to where she knew the wall to the common room was. "Pure-blood," she murmured, to preoccupied to care about the magic making the door slide open. She ran through the common room, ignoring the many students there, and straight up to the room she now shared with Pansy. She burst through the door, out of breath, to find Pansy sitting at her vanity once more, fiddling with her makeup. The other girl turned to greet her, but her eyes went wide and terrified. She backed up and knocked over a chair.

"Oh My God, is that... a Felanoid!?"