It had been two weeks now and Diana Preston was certain. This certainty was what caused her to plonk herself down next to Stiles in English.

"Erm, Hello?" He shifted nervously, Diana was one of Lydia Martin's closest friends and she was leaning into his space. Scott was in front of him, looking worried.
"How long has your boy Scott been a werewolf?" Diana demanded outright. It was an aspect of her personality that Lydia loved so much, her ability to dive straight in.

The boy paled. Stiles began to shake his head no; Diana only rolled her eyes,

"How, er, how do you know about this stuff?" Stiles asked carefully, Diana gave him a blinding smile, she looked at his pencil currently being held in his right hand,
"What colour's your pencil?" She asked, Stiles looked confused but answered correctly,

"Blue."

"Okay." Stiles looked back at the now neon pink utensil in his hand. Diana lent back across and blew on it, before the boys eyes the pencil turned back to blue.

"What? Did you just do?" He floundered, Diana winked,

"Magic." She whispered.

"Witch!" Stiles blurted. Diana had begun to copy from the board but nodded at the accusation.
For the rest of the English lesson Stiles was astounded and blatantly stared at her. So much so that when Mr White came to hand out the homework he commented on it.

"Mr Stilinski, since you find Miss Preston so fascinating she will be the one that you work on the extra reading with, next class you two will be reading aloud passages five through fifteen."

Diana's head whipped round to a very red Stiles sinking lower in his seat. She sighed and packed up her things to the bell. Stiles watched her again as she did so, he couldn't quite figure out how he had missed it for so long, the faint aura of power about her but maybe she had always looked like that?
Diana stood, a slip of aged looking paper slipped from her folder falling onto the ground just by Stiles, it looked important so he bent to pick it up,

"Hey Diana, you dropped this."

Diana looked back just at Stile's hand made contact with the paper

"No!" She shot out her hand but it was too late. He held it in his right hand.

"Agh!" Stiles threw the paper away from him in pain clutching his wrist. He glanced up to Diana, she was close to tears. Cautiously he scooped up the paper again slowly giving it back to the only other person in the empty classroom. She shakily took it from him and dreading what she would find looked the now crumpled papyrus over. Totally blank.

Stiles would be saying he was lying if the crushing disappointment that bloomed in her eyes didn't hurt but he tried not to let it show, especially as she stormed from the room leaving him standing foolishly looking after her.

Diana felt herself become despondent for the rest of the, thankfully, short remainder of the day. Eventually the last bell rung. Everyone was filing out of school to the parking lot and Diana was with them. She had to talk to Stiles; he had no idea what he had just done. The hell that this could put her through. Scanning the corridor she spotted the back of his head and ran after him.

"Stiles!" She cried out making him stop and turn.

"Hey." He greeted confused. He still was surprised that Diana knew his name let alone was speaking to him. She seemed twitchy.

"I need to talk to you, could I come over tonight?" His eyes widened but he nodded emphatically.

Diana pulled out her phone and offered it to him,

"I'll text you; it's the parent teacher thing tonight so we should have maybe an hour and a half." He took her phone and imputed his number giving the rose gold device back to its owner.

"Hey, look I'm sorry about what happened in English by the way." He tried but Diana shrugged,

"Don't worry about it, not like we can take it back after all." She answered cryptically. Stiles couldn't figure it out but nodded while they parted ways.

Diana crashed into her bedroom throwing her bag to the foot of her bed. She launched herself at the comfortable bedding face down and groaned. Why did it have to be him?
"You seem stressed dear." A voice came from her mirror, the large one leaning on the wall by her bathroom door. It was covered with a type of dark cloth which was itself covered in patterns and sigils.

"The thing we have been working on for Uncle Simon and Aunt Heather well it obviously wasn't for them." Diana pulled her face from her pillow and pushed her thick auburn locks away from her face to look at the covered mirror.

"What do you mean Diana?" The voice asked again, it was a kind voice, one with love directed behind it.

"I mean, I was going to give it to them tonight after school but it fell out of my folder after English class and a boy picked it up."

Silence,

Diana nodded her head from side to side before letting it fall back to the pillow with a thunk.

"I'm sorry darling." The voice said eventually. "All that work and it wasn't even for them."

"That is not the worst part." Diana groaned.

"What is the worst part?"

"He's the Sheriffs son, he refuses to be safe, that and his best friend is a werewolf and you know how they attract trouble."

Her companion hummed in agreement,

"The Hales?"

"Bitten, not born. Derek is helping him though, I know that much."

"If he's been bitten then there is an Alpha building a pack." The voice became concerned. "You need to be careful, this boy…"

"Could kill me, I know." Diana pulled herself and looked about her room, the young witch had everything in here, in front of her bed was a wall of shelves that fit round her door, they were covered in books of all kinds and instruments of the craft, to her right was her wardrobe a large walk in closet filled with Lydia Martin's idea of heaven, on the wall by her bed were two dormer windows, one had a window seat and the other was filled by a desk currently covered in school work and make up, the wall raised at an angle above her brass bed to form a slant into the middle of her ceiling. It was a large enough bedroom, especially for a young witch.
Her family had a policy of not displaying wealth, sure they did some things but overt displays often courted jealousy and as the family was what they were they did not want that. When people get jealous they begin to look for ways to undermine you. It's not pretty.

Diana reached for her bag and summoned her phone; she was going to sort this out. Come hell or high water, she was sorting this out.

[Stiles, I'll be round for half five. Diana]

She sent off and within seconds she got a reply,

[I look forward to it.]

She rolled her eyes, goddess he was so weird.