Magic; A Harry Potter Frozen crossover

Kristoff's story.

Oh, what happened to Kristoff, you ask? That may be one of my favourite parts of the story....

It had been a regular day for the eleven year old Kristoff Bjorgman, he and his reindeer Sven were playing outside, eating carrots and trying to harvest ice, when a sweet voice called out, "Dinner, Darling!" "Coming mum!" The young voice called back, racing indoors for food, bringing Sven with him.  He walked into his small wooden house, smiling at the warmth it brought.  Ever since his Father died a month ago, Kristoff and his mother had been low on money.  Since he was so little, Kristoff didn't realize what this meant for the future. His father had been a ice harvester, and his mother was unemployed.

They had a small house, with a kitchen, living room, bathroom and a bedroom, but that was all. In the living room, where Kristoff spent most of his time when he wasn't outdoors, there was a small couch, a carpet, and a stone fireplace where him and his mother would always sit before he went to bed. In the kitchen, there was a small stove, a sink, a cabinet for dishes, a table for two, and a small cooler to keep the food cold.  There was also a big red door leading to the small washroom.  The bedroom was through the living room past a brown, wood door.  There was one small bed the two would sleep in, because in the winter, after the fire was put out, it was awfully cold.  Kristoff took of his jacket and boots and wiped Sven's hoofs before running to the kitchen to eat. His mother had prepared fish. The two prayed and began to eat.

Kristoff's mother, Theresa Bjorgman, was a kind lady. She always tied her brown hair up in a bun, had green eyes, a small nose and mouth, and was a little bit on the stocky side. ''Well, Kristoff, dear, what did you do outside today?'' his mother asked him. ''I was telling Sven all about my dreams!'' His mother giggled. Kristoff had the most vivid dreams about people batteling with wooden sticks, speaking incantations, and him being the best of them all.  He had them every night, and he had friends in his dreams. This was what Theresa was worried about. Kristoff only had one friend, and that was Sven.In his dreams he was friends with a boy named Neville and a girl named Hermione. Of course she was happy her son was happy in his dreams, instead of having nightmares, like some kids do, but she was worried that if the only way for him to make friends in his life was through dreams, that he would have some trouble later in life. "Hermione's become friends with two other boys, Ron and Harry, but the thing is, Harry's famous! He deafeated You-know-who when he was only a baby, leaving him with only a lightning bolt scar." Theresa was used to hearing this 'nonsense' she called it, but was getting even more worried recently, since he would talk about them all the time. She was afraid that others may think he's crazy, or needing to see doctor. But she knew that no matter what people would say, she would always be there for him.

But if this were true, we wouldn't have a story. 

~

A twelve year old Kristoff Bjorgman was sitting in the corner, crying.

He could not believe his bad luck. 

Two funerals within two years, and for the only family he ever knew.

He had been so close to his father, sharing secrets, playing games, harvesting ice. It had even been his father who had given him Sven, the last of his family left.

Kristoff's dad had been a Jolly fellow. Strong and hardworking, he had been the best ice harvester in the land. A joker, he had done everything with Kristoff.  Playing pranks on his mother, on Sven, and even Kristoff himself.  But he knew when not to cross the line and never went too far. Kind and warm hearted,  he always gave to the poor when he saw them on the streets, and helped anybody he could.  Kristoff still missed his smile.  Kristoff felt a warm tear fall down his cheek, but he didn't bother cleaning it up.  When he had heard the news that his father wasn't coming home, he didn't understand.