No one had to tell me I was adopted. The couple who raised me—average, fantastically wealthy German pure-bloods—always referred to me as "Darling Bella" and "our beautiful swan," never daughter. Unlike other parents who instructed the nanny to discipline and only reward good behaviour, the Schwanns made sure I was given everything I wanted and treated me like royalty: the kind that might have them executed if they displeased in any way. Naturally I found their slavish devotion charming.

My amiable guardians' only flaw was an irrational fear of snakes. I adored snakes, and snakes gravitated to me, eager to press against my warmth and whisper secrets. My first nursemaid, Helga, used to quake in fear of what she would find in my cot each morning. My fourth nursemaid, Gretel, said she learned from her predecessors' tragic deaths to wait in the corridor outside the nursery until I released my nocturnal companion into the garden and called out that I was ready for breakfast.

Growing up, I had the advantage of so many nannies, governesses, and tutors; when I went to Durmstrang I was bored. The coursework offered first year students was too simplistic. I was forced to exploit the resources of the Verboten Section to amuse myself.

By the end of sixth year, I was skilled in Legilimency, Occlumency, and Necromancy as well as top of the class in ordinary curriculum. My Dark Arts teacher, Professor Endor, was so impressed by the Dark Mark I created to brand all my admirers that he begged to have one, too.

My future as a seventh-year—add to the growing ranks of my minions, raise an Inferi army—seemed so bright, it was a shock when Headmaster Badinov visited our summer home in the depths of the Black Forest to relay Headmaster Snape's invitation to become Head Girl and the first transfer student at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Inside the letter's envelope I found a shiny badge and a photograph of a skeletal wizard, a black-haired hag, and a giant cobra.

I knew instantly I gazed at my true family. "Tell me her name," I said.

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Badinov replied. I gave him a look that made the colour drain from his face. "Oh! You meant Nagini, the snake."

Nagini. How lovely. I sighed.

A month later, I frowned as two oafs dragged my trunk into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. The train was less than bursting with students. What if I didn't gain as many followers as I'd had at Durmstrang?

I forgot my angst when I met the smoky gaze of the most intriguing boy I'd ever seen.

"Who are you?" he asked, in a sullen voice that made me shiver.

"Schwann," I answered. "Bella Schwann."

"I'm Draco Malfoy."

Draco was part-veela, I was sure. How tantalising. I held out my hand—and then I glimpsed what was hidden beneath his sleeve. "You've been claimed," I said, backing away. No amount of sex appeal could make me touch him now. I refused to share anything, especially minions.

I stumbled into the corridor and walked until I found a compartment with a lone occupant. "Leave," I said. "I want to be alone."

"No. This is the prefects' carriage, and I'm Head Boy."

Blond, arrogant, sneering: the boy was no veela, but he was handsome. "I'm Head Girl," I said. "Bella Schwann."

"Zacharias Smith."

I offered my hand. When he reached out to shake it, I saw there was no Dark Mark.


I smiled, imagining a black swan.


A/N: I've never read Twilight, so I'm not a hater, I was just having fun with a Sue-riffic name for a challenge with the prompt of Tom Riddle's love child/transfer student attracted to part-veela Draco and then the unlikely Zacharias Smith. :D Before The Cursed Child, anything was in the realm of possibility.