Marcus climbed the many stairs leading to the Owlery. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of the owls, they were beautiful birds but so many of them together did make a horrible stench. His lips twitched up into a smile as he pushed open the heavy door and entered the room. He adored this place, nearly as much as the dark forests. It was a contrast to the closeness of the trees, the dampness of the ground. Here it was light and airy, the sun easily hitting every corner of the room from the many windows. Perhaps it was the fact that he could easily escape from here, or that he shared the gift of flight with the birds. Whichever it was, this was his favourite daytime hide out. Most students avoided it, due to the stink, which made it even better for Marcus. He walked over a window and leant against it on his slim, yet muscular, arms. He took in a deep breath then jumped up onto the window sill, holding on to the frames to support himself. He looked down at the ground, his heart jumping joyfully at the height. As usual, he felt the urge, the pull, to let go and lean forward, to fall to the ground. 'Perhaps that urge is why so many people are afraid of heights,' he thought. After a few moments, he crouched down. As he did so, his skin began to turn black. His body shrunk and changed shape, two large and powerful wings replacing his arms. His nose twisted into a sharp, pointed beak. Glossy black feathers sprouted over his skin as his feet turned into golden claws. When the transformation was done, he cawed happily, flapping his large wings and springing out into the air. He let himself fall for a while, before beating his wings and swoaring upwards. 'So alive, so free! I envy the birds who can stay like this forever,' he thought as his sharp eyes picked out tiny details in his surroundings.

Rose sighed, climbing the rickety stairs to the owlery. It was time for her weekly letter to her father - she'd have to borrow a school owl, of course, as she saw no point in owning one when most of her friends outside school were muggles anyway, and Gary and Faith both had family owls to write to her with over the summer. Before sending her letter, she crossed quickly to the window, breathing in the fresh scent of the grounds. It was just before sunset; the blue of the clear, cloudless sky was just beginning to blend into a purplish pink on the horizon, behind the thick, black tangle that was the Forbidden Forest. A bird soared high in the sky - there was something familiar about it, but she couldn't think what. And then - an owl flapped unexpectedly behind her, and she jumped, turning quickly to see what had caused the noise. The scroll of parchment fell from her hand, down, down, down towards the murky depths of the bottom of the tower. Leaning out of the window she felt a sudden urge to just jump after it, but resisted, watching it fall in vain. There was no point in running down to fetch it. All was ruined now.

He laughed, the sound coming out in a chorus of caws. He swooped around, his keen eyes catching the glint of someone else, standing at the window. 'I wonder who that is....' he thought, flying a bit closer to get a better view. 'Ahhh Rose,' his eyes followed the direction of hers and caught sight of the golden parchment falling to the ground. He cawed again then tucked in his large wings, his body becoming more stream-lined. He dived down after the parchment, falling faster and faster, his heart pounding with excitement. He reached out with his talons and caught the scroll, being careful that his claws didn't rip the paper. He stretched out his large wings and beat them, pushing himself up before he touched the ground. He continued flying upwards, then dropped the scroll in Rose's hands, perching on the window sill.

"I knew it was you!" she exclaimed in delight as the bird gave her her letter back. He sat there proudly, perched on the windowsill. She reached out to touch him - his feathers looked so soft - and began to stroke his head gently, her finger moving to the smooth underside of his beak. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice soft and genuine. It was a heartfelt letter - the kind that was never the same when rewritten.

Marcus was a little disgruntled by the attention, he usually took this form to get away from humans. He cawed once, nibbling at her finger, gently so that his beak wouldn't pierce her skin. 'If only you could share this with me,' he thought, 'i know you would love it.' He looked at her with his eyes, one black and one blue, and cawed again. He ruffled his feathers then pushed off of the window sill, soaring into the air again. He flew high into the clouds then tucked in his wings and plumeted [spl] to the ground, pulling himself out of the dive just in time. He spread his wings out wide, soaring around in a large arch, before landing on the window sill again. His chest rose and fell rapidly from the excitement as he clicked his beak.

She laughed as he returned to her, not entirely sure what was funny, but it all seemed so strange and theatrical. It ought to be a scene in a muggle film, she thought. He could be the bad, misunderstood guy that everyone likes but he doesn't return their feelings, and I'll be the slightly reject girl who steals his heart and he shows all his secrets to, and then everyone else is jealous of her. She laughed more at her little plan, wondering how much of it was true, and how much was just her imagination. "Being a bird suits you," she said to him, talking casually, as if he was in human form, too. "Gary always says my form suits me, but I'm not so sure. Well, it must, I suppose, otherwise I wouldn't have got it, but I don't like the suggestions that come with it."

Marcus clicked his beak again, in what could only be described as laughter. He cocked his head to the side, wondering what her form was. He hadn't realised that she was an animgaus as well. 'I think some sort of cat...' he thought, she did have a feline elegance about her. He nussled his way past her, landing on the floor of the Owlery and transformed, stretching his arms high above his head. He walked back to the window and leant against it on his side, so that he was facing Rose. "It's easier to talk this way... What animal can you transform into?" he asked, smiling at her.

"I'll show you," she said, smiling widely and winking at him. She stepped back to the place where he had transformed and in one swirl of orange and black, there she was: a fire-coloured vixen, with a black tip to her bushy tail. Elegantly, she licked a paw and began to clean her ears, then cocked her head and looked up at Marcus expectantly, as if she was waiting for a comment or a judgment. It was strange; despite the fox's canine roots, Rose's vixen moved with a catlike grace, as she herself did, and retained that feline calm she also had in human form.

Marcus smirked at her, "Well it's not quite the cat i had in mind, but it's close enough." He crouched down so that he was level with her and smiled, "Beautiful in all forms," he murmured, reaching out a hand and stroking her fur. It was quite rough to the touch, but he could feel the soft under coat. He smirked, "Both keen hunters, both after the same prey," he said. He could picture her hunting, a firy streak across the black of the forest, his smile broadening at the image.

Beautiful? She yapped, questioning the word, but doubting he'd understand. She often forgot she was in animal form and began to 'talk', much to the confusion of anyone around. Gary had worked out a fairly accurate code of what she was talking about, but only because she'd done it so many times to him. Marcus was very different to Gary, though. He seemed to be all the masculine, dominant, and sensual parts of Sammael, and all the strong, loyal parts of Gary, with none of either the vampiric violence or the self-pitying whining. He even looked like a mixture of the two.

Marcus smirked, "I don't speak fox, i'm afraid." He stood up and went back over to the window, turning around and leaning against it with his back. He folded his arms across his chest and regarded the fox in front of him. "It suits you, that animal. I had some sort of cat in mind, but somehow a fox seems to fit better." He smirked again, "Mmm definitely suits you." He looked at her orange fur which seemed to gleam in the sunlight. 'She really is beautiful,' he thought.

She transformed again, and stepped towards him gracefully, smiling widely. She couldn't help but smile when she was with him. You've only met him twice before, she reminded herself sternly, keeping her cool and not letting her imagination get carried away. "So you like it? Most people tend to make some kind of joke along the lines of 'foxy', but I'm glad you didn't. I've heard that one far too many times, and not always in relation to my animagus form..." She rested both her elbows on the windowsill again, quite close to him, her skirt almost short enough to give away the colour of her underwear as she leaned over. She decided to let the 'beautiful' comment slip without question; it was too petty a detail to pick up on. He was probably just trying to chat her up to keep his chances for going back to her room again.

[Very R+V stylée...]

Marcus smirked, "I did contemplate it but then i guessed that most people would make that comment. It seems i was right...." His eyes flickered down her body and up again, as they had done each time they had met. "Why did you choose a fox?" he asked, dropping his usual cold tone of voice and replacing it with a curious one.

"I didn't choose it," she said matter-of-factly, still staring out of the window, oblivious to his wayward glances. "I learnt it from an ancient book I found in the restricted section of the library - I translated it from the Runes. It said to let your spirit freely choose, without caring about superficial appearances. The fox chose me, not the other way round. Each animal has different qualities and characteristics which define the person it is attracted to. Where I come from, foxes are considered lucky; they have all the good qualities of a cat and all the good qualities of a dog. Foxes are brave hunters, but they are also cunning and intelligent. They're loyal, but also strong-willed and can be perfectly independent. Like me, yes?" She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, causing a flowing movement around her hips as she did so, drawing attention to her body without even realising it.

Marcus smiled, "How interesting...." he murmured, staring at this miraculous girl infront of him. She seemed so different from the others, just - as she said - like a fox. "Yes i would say it was exactly like you. I chose a bird of prey so that i could have the freedom of flight, but also the skills of a hunter." He shifted his body so that he was now looking out of the window and not at her. "It is marvilous, to be able to fly without the aid of a broom. Before i knew that i was a wizard, i would often dream about flying."

She turned to him suddenly. "I thought - because you are a Slytherin - that you were a pureblood?" She sounded a little curious, but mostly as though she had picked up on some flaw in his words. "Surely you always knew, if that's the case? And if it isn't...why are you in Slytherin, the house which makes the lives of muggle borns and halfbloods like myself hell?" There was a note of anger in her voice now; many a time she'd stood up for a student she didn't even know the name of against that jeering wall of insults that came with being a so-called 'blood traitor'.

[sh*t...forgot about that....quick improvise!!!]

Marcus smiled, "A question which is asked many times. Yes, i am a pureblood, but i was brought up by foster parents. I never knew my biological parents, they left me at a muggle foster home when i was just a baby. I've never felt any urge to persue them, i've never felt a physical attraction to them. My foster parents have been my real parents all along, whether they shared the same blood as me or not. So unlike many, in fact possibly all, Slytherins, i am quite accustomed to muggle born and half-bloods."

"Ah, so that's why you weren't bothered about actually being in the same room as me," she replied sarcastically, turning back to look out of the window. "It's a shame, really; most of you Slytherins are so good-looking, and none of you would touch me with a barge pole. Except Edward, but that's different - he has his own prejudices to battle against without having to worry about condemning me for my blood status." She sighed, a soft breeze pushing some hair from her face and opening the top of her shirt a little further. Breezes were lovely; she adored the way they made her feel cool and warm at the same time.

Marcus smiled, "Ahhh Edward, what a fantastic character. I have only spoken with him twice and already i'm intrigued by him. There are certainly some interesting people in this school." 'The only reason i'm here,' he thought, his smile turning into a smirk. "Blood status has always been an issue in the wizarding world, although i can't see why. We are all the same, at the end of the day."

"But please," she began, twirling some hair around her fingers. "What makes you a Slytherin? I'm a Ravenclaw because I'm clever and I like to study and get good grades and read a lot. I'm not a Gryffindor because I don't have blind bravery, and I'm not a Slytherin because although I am an ambitious person, my need for knowledge and intellect if far greater than any other aims I might have. But you don't seem very ambitious either, and I thought that was the mark of a Slytherin...?"