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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"No one can take me away from you, you are mine and I am yours"
☆☆☆☆☆☆
ELSA POV
The scarlet steam engine roared beneath us like a living beast, smoke curling up against the windows like enchanted lace. I sat curled up against the window of our compartment, knees tucked under me, my cheek leaning into the cool glass as fields blurred past in green streaks. Harry was beside me—close, warm, and quiet in that brooding way of his. Ron and Hermione sat across from us, deep in a not-so-silent debate about whether Snape would be teaching Potions again or finally disappear into the shadows forever.
Anna had wandered off somewhere—presumably to find Draco and check if he still had a pulse after all the fangirling at the World Cup. The poor boy could barely look at Cedric without losing points in coolness.
"You really should tell Sirius about the scar, Harry," Hermione said, folding her arms and fixing him with a knowing look.
"Yeah," I added, giving Harry a pointed nudge with my elbow. "Not to be dramatic, but you're literally having dark visions. That usually calls for some sort of... adult intervention."
Harry sighed, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair. "Fine. I'll write to him tonight."
Before Hermione could reward him with a proud smile, the trolley witch appeared with her cart of sweets, pushing it like it was sacred treasure.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Ron leapt up as if summoned by divine sugar. "A packet of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and a Liquorice Wand, please!" he declared, then faltered and glanced down at his pockets. "...Actually, just the gum."
"I've got it," Harry said before Ron could retreat into financial embarrassment.
Harry handed Ron a handful of sweets, then bought chocolate frogs and Chocoballs for the two of us. He offered me a frog, and I opened it with a grin.
"Mmm. Salty," I said, chewing thoughtfully. "This one tastes like betrayal."
"That's not betrayal, that's toffee," Harry replied dryly.
Just then, the door to our compartment slid open. A girl stepped in like she owned the train, one perfectly arched brow raised as her over-glossed lips twisted into something meant to be a smile.
"Hello, Harry," she cooed in a high-pitched voice that instantly grated on my nerves.
I didn't even look up. I continued eating my Chocoball, because I was raised to be polite, but not to suffer fools.
"May I know who you are?" Harry asked, doing his best impression of someone who cared.
"Shafiq. Becky Shafiq. One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," she said with the kind of smugness that made me want to check if her family tree was planted in manure.
"I'm Harry Potter," he replied calmly, "and these are my—"
"Oh, I don't need to know their names," she interrupted, flapping her lashes. "I just wanted to invite you to my cabin."
My jaw actually dropped. The audacity of this girl. The delusion. The lipstick bleeding into her teeth.
Before I could say anything cutting, Harry slipped his arm smoothly around my waist and pulled me a little closer. I looked up at him, smug as a kneazle with cream.
"Sorry," Harry said sweetly to Becky, "but I'm a little occupied."
Becky huffed and stormed off, slamming the compartment door with a dramatic flair that only made her look more ridiculous.
"Bless her heart," I muttered. "Shame her brain didn't get the invitation."
Ron let out a low whistle. "Merlin. That one's got the subtlety of a bludger."
"Sacred 28, my foot," Hermione scoffed. "If that's sacred, I'd rather be blasphemous."
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After what felt like both an eternity and a blink, the train slowed, screeching into its familiar station. We spilled out into the misty grounds of Hogwarts, luggage floating behind us or dragging stubbornly across the cobblestones.
But something was off. Everyone was gathered at the edge of the courtyard, heads tilted skyward.
From the clouds, enormous winged horses descended, hooves pounding the air. They carried a pale blue carriage as large as a small house. Hagrid stood below, directing them like an air traffic controller who'd just learned the ropes. He had to duck, for once dwarfed by the beasts.
Out from the carriage stepped a line of tall, graceful girls—Veela, or near enough, judging by the way every boy in a ten-meter radius seemed to forget their own name.
Except Harry.
He didn't even blink. He turned to me instead, his gaze steady, his hand brushing mine.
Because I was his veela. His chaos. His calm. His everything.
As they entered the castle, ripples spread across the Black Lake, breaking the surface like something ancient was rising. And it was—an enormous ship emerged, creaking and majestic, anchoring by the dock.
From it stepped another group—tall, broad-shouldered boys in heavy robes. Cue every girl's jaw dropping in synchronized awe.
Harry glanced towards me, but I was already looking at him.
He kissed me—softly on the lips, then gently on the temple. No drama. No fanfare. Just us.
"No one can take me away from you, you are mine and I am yours"He smiled.
☆☆☆☆☆☆
"If that's sacred, I'd rather be blasphemous."
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