In the candle-lit halls of Hogwarts, where magic stirs with every whisper, Harry Potter begins his first year - unaware that fate has woven another soul into his journey.
Elsa Scamander, silent as snowfall and powerful as a storm, arrives cloaked in...
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"Hello mam , I am elsa's boyfriend"
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ELSA POV
We were descending the staircase, the air thick with tension. My hand, once again, froze with an unnatural chill, spreading an ache through my bones. Beside me, Harry clutched his scar and hissed, his pain returning with equal intensity.
As we stepped into the final chamber, a familiar figure stood before the Mirror of Erised-the same enchanted mirror we'd once gazed into with curiosity. But now, it shimmered with danger.
"I knew it," I whispered.
"You?" Harry asked, stunned.
Before I could respond, Professor Quirrell turned around slowly.
"Yes," he said with eerie calm. "He seems the obvious villain, doesn't he? But next to Snape, who would ever suspect... poor, stuttering Professor Quirrell?"
"I did," I said, my voice steady. "You turned too sharply during the Sorting Ceremony. And since then, every time you're near, my hands freeze."
"Ah, the girl with the frost in her veins," Quirrell sneered. "So gifted. So dangerous."
"You're the one helping Voldemort," I accused.
Harry stepped forward. "But during the Quidditch match... Snape tried to curse me!"
"No," I said, remembering. "Quirrell was watching you, unblinking. Snape was performing a counter-curse."
Quirrell smirked. "Snape's always been suspicious of me. After Halloween, he never left me alone. He even tried to stop me from reaching the Stone... but he failed."
"You let the troll in," Harry said, voice low with anger.
"Very clever, Potter," Quirrell replied. "But now I must ask the Mirror. I see the Stone-I see myself holding it-but where is it?"
A voice, low and unnatural, hissed from nowhere. "Use the boy."
"Come here, Potter. Now," Quirrell ordered.
"No!" I cried, stepping in front of Harry.
Quirrell raised his hand, and I summoned ice with all my strength, hurling it toward him. He barely flinched. With a cruel flick, he sent me flying back. My hands hit the floor, and before I could recover, I found them frozen in place-his magic overpowering mine.
"Tell me, Potter-what do you see?" Quirrell growled.
HARRY'S POV
I stood before the Mirror, heart racing. My reflection reached into its pocket and revealed the Sorcerer's Stone. Then Elsa appeared beside my reflection, her arms wrapped around me, her face full of pride.
