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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"You belong with power."
♡♡♡♡♡♡
ELSA POV
"Who are you? What do you want?" Cedric called out, his voice sharp, trying to mask the fear in his chest.
But Tom Riddle didn't answer. He didn't have to.
"Kill the spare," he said coldly.
Pettigrew raised his wand toward Cedric.
"No!" I shouted, throwing my hand forward instinctively. A jagged bolt of ice shot out, knocking his wand clean from his grip.
But I wasn't quick enough.
Voldemort's eyes — bloodshot, snake-like — snapped to me. With a flick of his fingers, my legs moved against my will, dragging me toward him as if invisible threads were wrapped tight around my ribs. And then he let go, dropping me unceremoniously to the ground like a broken doll.
"yes, now you see, last to last year, you and your little boyfriend didn't let me come back and destroyed me, so one day I had to come" He smiled cruelly, yanking my face up by my hair.
I barely caught my breath before Pettigrew moved. He slashed Harry's hand — a quick, cruel motion — and collected the blood. Then, he approached the small, twisted creature lying nearby and let the blood fall over a silver ring.
Behind me, Voldemort chuckled darkly. "My bad," he said, tone mocking. "Ex-boyfriend, wasn't it?"
And just like that, he began to rise. The color slowly re-appearing, seeping into his dull grey body, like it was coming back to life. Breath returned to lungs that had once been dust.
Voldemort had returned.
He stood fully formed now, tall and terrifying in the moonlight. Then he turned to Pettigrew.
"Your arm," he commanded.
Pettigrew held it out, trembling. Voldemort pressed his wand to the Dark Mark and the sky responded — a pulse of blackness, shadows unraveling from the air itself.
Death Eaters began appearing, cloaked and hooded. Silent. Watching.
"You return now, after fourteen years," Voldemort addressed them with a venomous smile. "No one tried to find me. No one came. But here you are."
While his gaze flicked among them, I moved. Crawling, quiet, inching toward Harry.
But I didn't make it far.
Something sharp sliced across my calf — a deliberate cut. I screamed and dropped again, clutching my leg. Ropes bound my hands before I could reach for my wand.
"Poor Elsa," Voldemort sneered, turning back to me. "You always were so gifted. Ice and fire... such drama." His wand remained fixed on me, and I realized: if he dropped it, the ropes might disappear.
I just needed a distraction.
"You'll join me, Elsa," he said softly, approaching. "It's the natural course. You belong with power."
"Don't touch her!" Harry shouted. I felt Cedric's voice rise beside his.
Voldemort's head tilted. "And who are you to command me? Ah... Potter. Of course."
He turned to Pettigrew again. "Do it."
"No! Please!" I screamed, seeing Pettigrew raise the wand toward Cedric.
"Why should I listen to you?" Voldemort asked me, clearly enjoying the moment.
"He's like a brother to me," I whispered.
He paused. "And what would I get in return?"
"Elsa, no!" Cedric begged, but I ignored him.
I faced the ground instead. Focused. Ice spiraled from my hands, crawling silently across the earth.
Voldemort slipped — his foot lost purchase and he fell. His wand clattered away.
The ropes vanished. I bolted, grabbing his wand before he could recover.
"Give it back!" he snarled.
But before I could react, Harry and Cedric fell, their legs tangled in the chaos.
I turned — thrust my palm forward — and blasted Voldemort with a column of ice that cracked across his cheek.
He snarled, grabbing Pettigrew's wand.
Now it was three against one.
Harry and Cedric pointed their wands. I gathered ice in both hands.
"Expelliarmus!" they cried.
Ice. Red. Green.
Spells collided mid-air, locking in a luminous sphere of white energy. The force between us built until mist poured from the center, thick and cold.
Death Eaters began to move forward.
"No!" Voldemort shouted. "They are mine."
From the mist, figures emerged.
One man, with wild dark hair and glasses. Another woman, soft eyes, flaming red hair.
"Harry... Elsa... Cedric," the man said — James Potter. His voice shook me. "When the connection breaks, run. Go back to the Portkey. We'll hold him."
"And tell Ha-Rin and Annie that I love them," the woman said gently. Lily Potter. Her eyes were wet, but her voice was sure.
Ghostly shapes surrounded us — love, memories, protection.
