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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"Looks like someone didn't learn their lesson last time... disobedient little thing."
☆☆☆☆☆☆
ELSA POV
The pink demon had given us detention.
So naturally, that's where we were headed now—straight into the heart of Candyfloss Hell.
We stopped in front of her office. I glanced at Harry. He gave a slight nod, jaw clenched like he was bracing for impact. I knocked.
"Come in," came her saccharine voice.
We stepped inside and were instantly assaulted by a wall of pink and purring. Plates with painted kittens lined the walls. The teacups were pink. Even the air smelled like despair mixed with artificial rose.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter. Miss Scamander," she greeted, smiling like a toad that had just caught a fly. "Sit."
Harry shut the door as we walked to the two stiff-backed chairs in front of her desk.
"You're going to be doing some lines for me today," she said sweetly. "Not with your quills, of course. You'll be using a rather special one. Mine."
She laid two black quills on the desk, no ink bottles in sight.
"I want you to write, I must not tell lies," she said in a singsong voice.
"How many times?" Harry asked, all ice.
"Oh, let's say... for as long as it takes for the message to sink in."
"You haven't given us ink," I pointed out.
"You won't need any," she replied, her smile growing impossibly wider.
We exchanged wary glances. I shrugged and picked up the quill. I pressed it to the parchment and began to write.
The first few words passed without incident. But then—sharp pain shot through my hand. I flinched, thinking maybe a splinter or... a bug? But no.
I looked down. My skin was glowing red, faint letters etching themselves across the back of my hand like a ghostly tattoo.
"I must not tell lies."
I stared at it in disbelief.
"What's the matter?" came Umbridge's voice, falsely innocent.
"Nothing," I said flatly.
"That's right," she replied and turned back to her teacup.
Harry glanced over and saw my hand. His jaw tightened. He reached over, gently taking mine in his.
It stung like hell.
This woman wasn't just unhinged. She was unhinged with Ministry approval.
