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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"Anyway, I've noticed Elsa can't go a full minute without touching Harry."
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Today, Hermione was unusually secretive. She led us through the crowded streets of Hogsmeade, her eyes bright with some hidden plan. The cold bit at our cheeks as we followed her into a narrow, crooked building.
When my eyes adjusted to the dim interior, I realised we weren't alone—at least two dozen faces turned toward us.
"The Dark Lord is coming," Hermione began, her voice steady, though her hands were curled into fists. "And we need to be ready to defend ourselves. If Umbridge refuses to teach us, then someone else will." She looked straight at Harry.
"No," Harry said flatly.
"He's the best," Ron countered at once.
"No, I'm not," Harry muttered, looking away.
"Who even says he's coming back?" Seamus challenged.
"Harry, Elsa, and Dumbledore," Ron said firmly.
"Dumbledore says that because of Harry and Elsa," Seamus retorted.
"No," I cut in, "he says it because he's smart enough to see the truth."
"It's true, you two can produce Patronuses, right?" Luna tilted her head dreamily.
"Yes," Hermione answered before either of us could speak. "I've seen them both do it."
"Really? I didn't know that," Dean said, eyes widening.
"And they killed the Basilisk," Neville added shyly.
"Third year, Elsa fought off about a hundred Dementors," Ron said, "while freezing half to death."
"And last year," Anna added, "they faced You-Know-Who in the flesh."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Look, it sounds impressive when you say it like that, but most of it was luck. I didn't know what I was doing half the time. I nearly always had help."
"He's just being modest," I said, nudging him.
"No, Elsa—I'm not," he said quietly. His eyes darkened. "Facing this stuff in real life isn't like school. In class, if you make a mistake, you get to try again tomorrow. Out there, one wrong move and you're dead. Or someone you care about is. You don't know what that's like." He sank into a chair.
"You're right," Hermione said gently. "We don't. That's why we need you—to have a chance at beating... Voldemort." She said the name hesitantly, and several people flinched.
"He's really back?" Nigel asked.
We nodded. I leaned into Harry, resting my head against his shoulder.
Hermione pulled a parchment from her bag and spread it across the table. One by one, people stepped forward to sign.
