"Good morning, class!" Professor Sprout's loud voice booms around the greenhouse after breakfast in the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Professor Sprout!" the class echoes back.

Isabelle stands with Tonks, Olivia and Isaac as per usual, Tonk's arm wrapped casually around her shoulders. The Metamorphagus sports straight, spiky, deep red hair, and has shaped her lips more into hearts than they normally are. Isabelle quite likes the new look.

"Welcome back from your holidays!" Professor Sprout continues, beaming around at her students. "It's the start of a new term now, and we only have one more plant to cover before you formally begin your studying for your Herbology NEWT."

Isabelle breathes in deeply. Even though she only has two NEWTs to complete, and everyone else has way more, and even though she technically doesn't need to complete her NEWTs for her desired career, as her OWLs are enough, she still wants to do her best, and is already incredibly nervous.

"So, our final plant we are looking at this year is Moly. Who can tell me what they know— Olivia! Go ahead," Professor Sprout smiles, gesturing to the brown-haired girl as usual.

"Moly is a powerful plant that can be eaten to counteract enchantments, and is easily recognised by their distinctive black stems and white flowers," she says, smiling shyly at Isaac as she finishes.

"That's correct! Take five points for Ravenclaw," Professor Sprout says. "Is there anything she— Isaac, of course!"

"Moly is also used as a potion ingredient, such as in the brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion," the freckled boy says, flashing a grin at Olivia.

"It is indeed! Five points to Hufflepuff!" Professor Sprout says. "Now, everyone take out your quills and we'll take notes this lesson before we begin to take a proper look at this plant..."

The lesson continues like that until the bell rings, and Isabelle waves goodbye to her three Herbology friends, before slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading down towards the Forest for her next class.

Charlie's there when she arrives and he grins as she comes to stand by his side, smiling up at him.

"Welcome back, class, welcome back!" Professor Kettleburn's voice emerges from the trees a second before he does, hobbling happily towards his four students.

"Today we will be beginning on our final creature for this year, and as it turns out, all your schooling here at Hogwarts!" their teacher continues, seemingly even more excited than usual.

"It's one of my favourite creatures that we cover, which is of course why I saved it for last. The Thestral!" Professor Kettleburn declares.

Isabelle's eyes widen. She was wondering if they'd get to learn about Thestrals this year.

"Now, as Thestrals are rather famous creatures, I figured each of you must know at least something about them, and I would therefore like to hear from each of you this lesson, not just Thomas," Professor Kettleburn says, smiling cheekily around at his students.

"So!" he says, clasping his hands together, "Who would like to go first? Thomas, why don't you start us off?"

"The Thestral is a breed of winged horse with a skeletal body, face with reptilian features, and wide, leathery wings that resemble a bat's. They are native to the British Isles and Ireland, though I believe they have been spotted in parts of France and the Iberian Peninsula. They are very rare, and considered dangerous by the Ministry of Magic. They are carnivorous animals and I've also heard that they are lured by the scent of blood," the blond boy says, winking at Isabelle.

Charlie tries not to react.

"Indeed they are," Professor Kettleburn says, a big smile stretched across his face. "Take twenty points for Ravenclaw! Now, who's next? Charlie, how about you?"

The Gryffindor boy clears his throat before beginning.

"Another distinction of the Thestral are their sharp fangs used to seize and slash their prey," he says. "They're social creatures, who live in herds, and I've heard they're extremely clever and can even understand specific human words. They can be found in a dark environment and the forest is their natural habitat. They also communicate with each other through a shrill and strange shriek that resembles some sort of monstrous bird. I've also heard that they often attack birds, which means that they don't only hunt for food on the ground, but are also able to pursue flying prey."

"Well done! That was very well-worded — take twenty points for Gryffindor!" Professor Kettleburn says when Charlie finishes. "Amelia, how about you next?"

"The most well-known ability of these beasts is their invisibility to those who haven't seen death. In other words, they're only visible to people who have seen someone dying and fully accepted, understood and internalised the concept," the Slytherin girl begins, causing Isabelle to go completely quiet.

Charlie notices, frowning.

"They also have quite a useful sense of direction, and can understand exactly where their riders need to go. If their riders have a certain destination in mind, they only need to say it and the Thestral will carry them to the intended location — much like owls do with letters. Their powerful wings are capable of lifting at least the burden of two humans plus their own weight."

"Well done, Amelia, that's correct! Twenty points for Slytherin," Professor Kettleburn beams. "And finally Isabelle — anything more to add?"

The French girl nods her head slightly.

"Zestrals are loyal creatures, able to tell a friend from an enemy, and offering 'elp to 'umans in need of transportation. Zey will forcefully attack anyone or anyzing zey see as a zreat, and in zee case of a domesticated Zestral, any enemy of its owners. Zey are not marks of ill omen, nor are zey in any way zreatening to 'umans. I 'ave also 'eard zat Zestral tail 'air is a powerful and tricky substance zat can be mastered only by a witch or wizard capable of facing deaz," Isabelle finishes, her voice soft.

"Indeed, indeed! Well done, Isabelle!" Professor Kettleburn says cheerily.

Charlie finds himself still looking at Isabelle long after she's finished; the Thestral seems to be a creature she knows a lot about. More so than the other creatures they've covered this year.

"Now, due to Thestrals' classification as XXXX, only experienced wizards are meant to handle them. Breeding as well as owning these creatures may be discouraged or even illegal without Ministry consent. In saying that, we have a beautiful herd of Thestrals living in the Forbidden Forest, which I'm sure you would all love to see — if you can, of course," Professor Kettleburn says, turning serious.

"Out of curiosity, who can see Thestrals?" the teacher asks.

Isabelle's the only one that raises her hand.

Charlie stares.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Professor Kettleburn says, still solemn.

The French girl only shrugs and smiles sadly in response, using all her willpower to keep her mind trained on the lesson at hand, and not to drift off.

The professor clears his throat, turning away from Isabelle and continuing on with the lesson.

"The herd of Thestrals in the Forbidden Forest are familiar with our Groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, who has kindly agreed to take us into the Forest and introduce us to the herd. Hagrid, if you will!" Professor Kettleburn calls out, and on cue, the massive man emerges from the tree line, carrying what looks like half a cow's carcass.

"Ready?" Hagrid says cheerfully. "Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what you're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em."

"You're sure they're trained?" Amelia asks, frowning up at the half-giant.

"Course they're trained," Hagrid says, hoisting the dead cow a little higher on his shoulder. "Follow me!"

He turns and strides straight into the Forest. Isabelle and Charlie set off after him, Thomas and Amelia following hesitantly, Professor Kettleburn bringing up the rear.

They walk for about ten minutes until they reach a place where the trees stand so closely together that it's as dark as twilight. With a grunt, Hagrid deposits his half a cow on the ground, stepping back and turning to face the class of four.

"Gather roun', gather roun'," Hagrid encourages Thomas and Amelia, who remain several paces behind the other two. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, cause they'll like ter know it's me."

He turns, shaking his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face and gives an odd, shrieking cry that echoes through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. He waits a beat and gives the shrieking cry again.

And then, as Hagrid shakes his hair back for a third time and expands his enormous chest, Isabelle's eyes widen, looking towards a black space between two gnarled yew trees.

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes grow larger through the gloom and a moment later a dragonish face, neck and then skeletal body of a great, black, winged horse emerges from the darkness. It looks around at the class for a few seconds, swishing its long black tail, then bows its head and begins to tear flesh from the dead cow with its pointed fangs.

"Why doesn't Hagrid call again?" Amelia whispers after a few moments of silence.

"It's right there," Isabelle murmurs in response, continuing to stare at the frighteningly beautiful creature.

Immediately, the Slytherin girl steps back, eyes wide.

"Where?" she asks.

Isabelle points to beside the dead cow. Amelia looks rather horrified. The only creature she's not too sure about, evidently.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" Hagrid says proudly, as a second Thestral appears out of the dark trees, folding its leathery wings closer to its body and dipping its head to gorge on the meat. "Now... put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Once again, Isabelle's the only one that raises her hand. Hagrid nods at her.

"So, we started off with a male an' five females. This one," he pats the first Thestral that appeared, "name o' Tenebrus, he's my special favourite, firs' one born here in the Forest."

Isabelle studies him closely, subconsciously taking a small step forward.

"Want to come an' say hello?" Hagrid asks, looking at the French girl.

Isabelle's eyes widen, and she stares up at him in shock.

"Really?" she asks eagerly.

Hagrid nods.

"Course! C'mon, righ' up this way," he says, beckoning her forward.

Without even hesitating, Isabelle walks slowly and soundlessly forwards, right up to where Hagrid's standing, his hand still on Tenebrus's hide. Isabelle reaches up a pale, dainty hand, the Thestral halting his consumption of the dead cow to sniff it.

Seemingly unbothered, he goes back to gorging on the cow, and Hagrid beams.

"Oh, well done, he likes ya! You can pat him now, if ya like," Hagrid says, giving Tenebrus a pat himself.

Isabelle reaches her hand up further, and starts to stroke his leathery skin, a small smile stretching across her face.

She finds herself glancing back at Charlie, who looks confused and slightly sad, but his eyes soften considerably when he sees her beaming, a small smile working its way onto his own lips.