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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"Thank you sister"
☆☆☆☆☆☆
ELSA POV
The sun had barely risen by the time I returned to my dorm, the taste of ash and panic still clinging to the back of my throat. Sleep came late. Harry came later.
He told me everything. About Crouch. About his son. About betrayal wrapped in the robes of duty.
And now, hours later, here we were. Standing on the very pitch where Quidditch used to unite us and now divided us into five competing hearts. A sea of voices surged in the stands, each school screaming for their champion — though Malfoy's shrill chant for Krum was the only sound that made me clench my fists.
Beside me, Harry stood solemnly, hands shoved into his pockets like he was holding back a storm. Cedric offered a polite nod, and Fleur smiled with nerves dancing behind her painted face. Dumbledore stepped forward, voice amplified and firm.
"SILENCE!"
The world hushed.
"This morning, Professor Moody has hidden the Triwizard Cup somewhere inside this maze," Dumbledore announced, his voice like the opening notes of a symphony. "Only he knows where it lies. Miss Scamander, having secured first place, shall enter first."
Cheers burst from somewhere to my right. Familiar faces — Anna, Mum, Dad, Sirius, Olaf — all standing, all hopeful. My heart swelled. My fingers found Harry's without a word.
"And Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter, tied for second, shall follow."
More applause, some hollers. I could hear Fred's unmistakable whistle cut through the air like mischief incarnate.
"The rules are simple. Touch the cup first, and you win. But inside, you will not face dragons or mermaids, but far darker things. Creatures of fear, confusion...and transformation. Be careful. One wrong turn and you may not recognize yourself when you come out."
Or if you come out.
I turned and embraced the people who mattered. My mother's perfume lingered on my robes. My father's hug was tight but trembling. Anna's smile was brave but unsure. Olaf hugged my shin and Ro-Woon held my hand. Sirius, warm and quiet, simply nodded.
And then Harry.
His eyes — emerald, eternal — searched mine.
"Stay safe," I whispered. "I love you."
His fingers skimmed my cheek. "I love you too, princess."
A kiss. Brief. Like a secret sealed in time.
We parted.
Dumbledore began his count, but Filch's nerves got the better of him. The cannon fired early. I looked back once at Harry — he nodded. I entered the maze.
The noise of the world dimmed to silence, as if the hedges drank in every echo. Green walls towered around me, breathing softly like beasts asleep. I took a right at the first fork, then paused at the sound of quiet steps.
"Elsa?" A whisper. Familiar.
I turned.
Harry.
We found each other like the stars find the sea — inevitable and rare. He hugged me tightly, and we pressed forward together.
Then, a scream.
"Fleur," I said, and we ran.
A wrong turn. A rustle. A wand pointed. We froze — Viktor.
But his eyes were clouded, white like storm-hung skies. He didn't see us. Controlled. Hypnotized.
He left.
We reached the source of the scream — Fleur, bound by thorns, dragged beneath the roots. Harry acted fast, sending red sparks high into the air. I grasped her wrist until it vanished into the earth.
Then—wind. Violent and sudden, pulling the maze tighter.
We sprinted away, heartbeats thundering in our ears.
And then — a light.
The Cup.
Glorious, golden, gleaming like salvation. We rushed toward it but were blocked — Cedric and Viktor again, this time fighting. Viktor was overtaken, and Cedric fought hard, reckless.
Harry stopped him.
"Enough!" I shouted, breathless.
But Cedric pushed forward until Viktor lay stunned. Harry and Cedric wrestled, torn between pride and purpose. Until—
The ground shifted. Cedric fell.
Harry moved instinctively, but I caught his arm. "Help him."
We cast together, freeing Cedric from the entangling vines.
"Thank you, sister," Cedric gasped, clutching my hand. "For a moment...I thought—"
"Never," I said, eyes fierce.
The wind howled again.
The Cup stood ahead.
"You both deserve it," Cedric said, stepping back.
"No. Together," Harry said.
We nodded.
"One...two...three."
Fingers touched gold.
And the world—vanished.
The ground hit us hard.
We rose.
A graveyard. Silent. Cold.
Stone angels wept in the mist. Fog curled like breathless ghosts.
"I've seen this...in dreams," Harry said, voice hollow. "We need to get back to the Cup."
I followed his gaze.
A grave.
𝘛𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 1905 - 1943
But something shifted. A chair. A robed figure. A smaller one, collapsed. Another with gleaming eyes.
And then, realization.
Tom Riddle.
Peter Pettigrew.
OH NO!
☆☆☆☆☆☆
"Stay safe, I Love You"
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