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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"The shrieking shack"
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ELSA POV
"Come to see the show?" Draco Malfoy sneered as we made our way to Hagrid's hut.
I resisted the overwhelming urge to freeze his face off right then and there.
Today was the day Buckbeak was going to be executed.
Yes, executed.
Because apparently, justice in the wizarding world is served with a side of incompetence and nepotism.
"You! You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!" Hermione snapped, storming toward Draco with her wand at his throat.
Malfoy—bless his cowardly heart—flinched like she was holding a basilisk fang.
"Hermione, no! He's not worth it," Ron said, pulling on her sleeve.
"Anna?" Draco tried, desperation clinging to his voice.
Anna shook her head. “I can’t, Draco. You brought this on yourself.”
And just when we thought Hermione had cooled off—bam—she socked Malfoy straight in the face.
"Oooooh!" I cheered. “Ten points to Gryffindor and a broken nose to Slytherin.”
As if that weren’t glorious enough, I flicked my wrist and summoned a patch of ice beneath Malfoy and his goons.
SLIP—CRASH—THUD.
Three bleeding noses, one bruised ego, and zero regrets.
"That felt good," Hermione said, cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming.
"Not good. Brilliant," Ron corrected, smiling like he’d just watched his favorite Quidditch team win.
I told the gang that Harry and I were officially dating. Cue Hermione and Anna’s squeals and Ron transforming into an overprotective big brother, lecturing Harry like it was his job. Fred and George even joined in, each giving Harry an “accidental” slap on the back strong enough to bruise his soul.
Anna finally said, “We should go,” and we headed to Hagrid’s hut.
"Hagrid," we greeted.
He gave us a watery smile, voice low. “It's all decided. Nothing yeh can do. Want some tea?"
Translation: I’m heartbroken, but British hospitality comes first.
As we sipped awkward tea, Hagrid tried to usher us back to the castle. He handed Scabbers—Ron’s scraggly little rat—back to him.
"Scabbers?" Ron blinked. "Where have you been?"
Scabbers immediately started squirming like he’d seen a ghost.
