Worlds collide the day Enola Scamander receives her Hogwarts letter.
A witch, a detective, a finder of lost souls; Enola embarks upon a journey of mischief, friendship, and boundless adventure, though forever confined to the shadows of her older br...
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"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
—Albus Dumbledore
If you are to understand the events marked upon these pages, I must go back to the beginning, where all good stories tend to start.
Two blooming young students once walked the halls of Hogwarts School; minds enraptured by their vigorous studies, and days graced by a certain delight—that only magic can produce. A girl and a boy roughly the same age, whose paths rarely crossed amongst the many halls and passageways.
The boy was a friendly fellow of good stature. He was well liked amongst his peers, and had a large circle of friends that would linger in doorways between classes. (This annoyed the girl immensely.) Spectacles adorned his crooked nose and locks of brunet hair often obscured his steely eyes. He had slightly crooked teeth, but the charming smile he would flash at passing skirts would send girls into fits of laughter.
His name was Flavius Scamander.
The girl was of an odd sort, but with a brilliant mind, her strangeness did not reject from her peers. Instead, her blunt (and often abrasive) nature turned classmates away, though she was quite content as 'friendless.' She had tawny curls that cascaded down her back, large mousey eyes that saw too much of the world, and a small nose that would crinkle when her peers disrupted the lesson of old professor Bins.
Her name was Eudoria Holmes.
The two students, albeit from two different worlds, could not have been more oblivious of each other. When the boy passed her figure in the halls, her nose was buried in a thick leather-bound book. When the girl strolled by the Black Lake, the boy was propelled into the water by his idiot friends. And the world moved on.
It was not until their sixth year that the pair's fates would forever be entwined.
When old caretaker Moon caught both students out of bed, it was with a satisfying smile that they each receive an appropriate detention. The boy's face was etched with fear as he paced the caretaker's office, muttering under his breath agitatedly. The girl promptly told him to 'shut up' so that she could study, her cool exterior unfaltering as she returned focus to the book in her lap.
Minutes ticked by and the old man was nowhere to be found. Neither grew worried, but anticipation hung thick in the air. Although seemingly unbothered, the girl's shoulders tensed and her finger tapped lightly against 'Hogwarts a History,' revealing her true air of discomfort.
Unfortunately, the boy was not so observant.
The clock struck midnight. The boy looked to the girl for the first time. She was pretty, he decided, but her face contorted like something foul lingered beneath her nose. Probably him. He grew self conscious that his earlier quidditch practice clung to him still, and he sniffed his shirt in wonderment.
