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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☆☆☆☆☆☆
ELSA POV
Right now, Hermione, Anna, Ginny, and I were in our dorm, getting ready for the Yule Ball. And to no one's surprise, I was in a very bad mood.
Why? That girl. Shafiq.
She had the audacity to ask Harry to the ball—knowing full well he was going with me. Worse, she called me worthless and tried to argue as if she was the victim here. But Harry shut her down so smoothly, she ended up running off with tears in her eyes.
Serves her right.
Anyway, I was already dressed.
Hermione had chosen a pink gown with soft ruffles at the end—it suited her. She was going with Viktor Krum, and honestly? She looked stunning.
Ginny wore a green and pink floor-length dress with floral designs. She looked radiant as Neville's date.
Anna? She looked ethereal in a white, floor-length dress with a daring slit that stopped mid-thigh. It was sleeveless, save for delicate strings over the shoulders, and sweetheart cut.
Finally, it was time.
We walked toward the Great Hall, hearts fluttering. The hallway echoed with murmurs and music, but my eyes searched only for him.
I peeked out.
There he was—Harry—standing with Ron, waiting for me.
Ginny was the first to go down the stairs. She was taken by Neville, looking adorably nervous.
Then Hermione descended like she had walked out of a fairy tale. Viktor's smile said it all.
Anna followed, elegance in motion, and was promptly joined by Malfoy, who, surprisingly, looked... not terrible.
And then it was my turn.
I took a deep breath and stepped into view.
Harry's eyes snapped up and widened.
He stared, stunned, as if he'd been slapped with a Bludger full of glitter. And then, as if pulled by gravity, he walked forward and offered his hand.
"You look magnificent, princess," he whispered, voice low and reverent.
"You don't look bad yourself, Harry," I replied, teasing lightly.
"But it's a shame," he smirked, leaning close. "I have to take this beautiful dress off you."
"Yeah, such a shame," I played back with a wink.
"Mr. Potter, Miss Scamander, get ready for the opening dance," Professor McGonagall interrupted, far too timely.
We joined the champions' line—Cedric and Cho, Viktor and Hermione, Fleur and Roger Davies, and then us.
