The firelight in Hagrid's hut flickered softly, casting warm, golden hues across the walls. The massive man sat hunched on his low wooden chair, his frame dwarfed only by the weight in his chest. His eyes stayed fixed on the small figure lying on his cot, nestled in one of his thick patchwork quilts. Her small figure barely a shadow against the oversized bedding.
Elara.
He had murmured her name countless times in the hours since he'd pulled her from the wreckage. It was the name she'd always had, and the name he'd always known her by—the namehegave her. Yet, hearing it spoken aloud again after so long—it felt like reuniting with a part of himself he hadn't realized was missing.
She stirred slightly, her face faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the fire. Her hair was a tangled mess of ash and soot, but even in the disarray, he could see the same little girl he had once held in his arms. But, oh how she had grown. Her once blonde curls were now strawberry-tinted waves, and her once round face was now more defined.
Hagrid sighed deeply, his elbows resting on his knees. His hands, still calloused and rough from years of work, trembled faintly as he turned a cloth in his grasp. Carefully, he dipped the cloth into the basin beside him and wrung it out. The sound of water dripping broke the quiet, a gentle rhythm that soothed his fraying nerves. Slowly, he brushed the cloth over her face, wiping away the remnants of the nightmare they had both just endured.
As the soot wiped away, her features became clearer—the delicate line of her jaw, the faint freckles that dotted her cheeks, the curvature of her nose, the soft arch of her brow, the quiet rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He paused when he noticed a smudge on her wrist, and his gaze once again fell on the bear he'd carved so long ago.
Tears pricked at his kept after all this time, through all the years and changes, she'd kept it.
For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the bracelet as if it might speak to him. The emotions churned within him—pride, guilt, heartbreak, and something deeper he couldn't name. He brushed a tear away with the back of his hand before it could fall onto her blanket.
"Elara," he murmured softly, her name a sweet recollection on his lips.
As if in response, she stirred. Her lashes fluttered open, revealing those eyes—forest green and ancient blue, filled with something beyond her years. She looked around, her expression unfocused, before her gaze settled on a moment, they simply stared at one another. She blinked slowly, her eyes dusting over his face as if trying to place him.
"You..." Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. "You saved me."
Hagrid nodded, his massive hands curling tightly around the damp cloth. "Aye, I did, love. Got yeh out just in time."
Elara sat up slowly, wincing as she adjusted the quilt around her shoulders. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail—the heavy wooden beams, the cozy fireplace, the cluttered shelves filled with jars and trinkets. A flicker of vague remembrance crossed her face.
"This place..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "I've seen it before. In my dreams, maybe... or..." Her words trailed off, and her brows furrowed in concentration.
Hagrid's heart thudded painfully in his chest. He cleared his throat, his voice gruff with emotion. "Yer at Hogwarts now, Elara. This here's my hut. Brought yeh here ter keep yeh safe."
Her eyes widened, and she blinked up at him. "Hogwarts?" she repeated, the unfamiliar word tasting strange on her tongue.
"Aye," Hagrid said, nodding. "Yer a witch, Elara. Been waitin' a long time ter bring yeh home."
The gravity of his words settled over her, and she looked down at her hands, her fingers curling around the edge of the quilt. "Home," she echoed softly, as if testing the word. It seemed to resonate strangely with this small hut.
Then, suddenly, her gaze shot back to him. "You feel... familiar," she said, her voice shaking. "Like I've seen you before. I don't know where or when, but—"
Her eyes landed on the bear dangling from her wrist, and her breath caught. Her gaze darted between the small wooden carving and Hagrid's face. Slowly, tears filled her eyes. "You... you're the one who gave this to me."
Hagrid's throat tightened, and he nodded. "Aye, that was me. Made it fer yeh meself."
Elara blinked rapidly, her tears spilling over as her hands clutched the bear tightly. "I remember... this hut, the woods. And... and you. You were there."
Hagrid leaned forward, his massive hand resting gently on hers. "That's right. Found yeh in the forest, all those years ago. Kept yeh safe as long as I could." His voice cracked. "But I had ter let yeh go. Thought it'd be best fer yeh." His voice heavy with guilt.
There was a moment of silence as everything clicked in her mind.
This hut.
The woods.
This man.
"Papa...?" she breathed out tentatively, the word trembling on her lips as though it might shatter if spoken too loudly. Her heart raced, fear curling around her like a shadow. What if she was wrong? What if, like every other time, the word would hang in the air, unanswered, echoing back to her without a home?
But this time, it didn't.
The word fell from her lips like a feather, graceful and delicate, floating gently until it landed with perfect certainty in her heart. It didn't bounce back. It didn't vanish into the void of her longings and unanswered questions. Instead, it settled, warm and unshakable. It was true. She had finally found where it belonged.
Her lip quivered, and she hesitated, her small hand hovering before she reached out to touch his. Her fingers brushed against his calloused ones, grounding her in a reality that felt almost too good to believe. "You're the reason I'm still alive," she whispered, and unbeknownst to Hagrid, it carried a double meaning.
Papa.A name that danced through her mind all her life, a whispered promise she could never quite place. It came to her in her darkest moments, unbidden but persistent, like the faint glow of a lantern guiding her through the fog. She cradled it like a fragile ember that warmed even the coldest of .It wasn't just a word. It was a feeling. A tether to something so vaguely tangible, yet so far out of reach.
And now she understood.
It was him. This giant of a man who had pulled her from the fire, soothed her with his voice, and held her as though she was the most precious thing in the world. It was this place, this small, cluttered hut that felt impossibly safe. It was home.
The realization struck her with the force of a memory long buried but never forgotten. Tears spilled over her cheeks as she clutched his hand, her fingers trembling but firm. "I found you," she whispered, her voice breaking with relief. "I finally found you."
Hagrid's chest tightened, a sharp pang of grief and joy that made it hard to speak. He didn't know the full meaning of her words, the deeper truth she carried. Nonetheless his own tears spilled freely as he pulled her into a gentle embrace, cradling her like he had all those years ago. "Aye, my daisy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I never stopped thinkin' about yeh, Elara. Not a day went by that I didn't wonder if yeh were alright. I'm here now. And I'm never lettin' yeh go again."
She buried her face in his shoulder, her small frame trembling with the weight of everything she's found, and as the memory fluttered in, everything she'd lost as well. For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The burden of the realization finally seemed to settle in the room, and Elara froze. "The fire..." she whispered, her small voice cracking. Her eyes widened, and her breath quickened as the memories surged forward. "My mum... my dad..."
Hagrid's arms tightened around her. "I'm so sorry, Elara. When I got there... it was too late."
Tears spilled over her cheeks. "They're... gone. I- I saw the roof collapse on them..." she choked out.
Hagrid's eyes widened before brimming with tears once more. He hadn't realized she witnessed their deaths, or maybe he just didn't want it to be true. "I swear ter yeh, I won't let anything' happen ter yeh. Not ever again." His voice shook at his thoughts flooded in.
When yeh were jus a baby, I promised yeh that Hogwarts would keep yeh safe. But I never expected it to go like this. I never expected it to be the only thing yeh had left.
She sniffled, her small hands gripping him tightly. For a long moment, they sat in silence, grief filling the air.
After a long, long moment, Hagrid pulled back slightly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "There's somethin' else I need ter tell yeh," he said, his voice soft but steady.
She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen but filled with quiet determination. "What is it?"
Hagrid reached into his coat and pulled out a small, slightly crumpled letter. He held it out, his hand surprisingly steady. "This," he said, "is fer yeh. An invitation. Yer meant ter be here, Elara. At Hogwarts."
Elara's fingers brushed against the thick parchment as she took it, her expression curious but calm as the Hogwarts crest caught the light. She tilted her head, studying the intricate seal with a quiet intensity. Her reaction—or lack thereof—unnerved Hagrid. Most children her age would've been bursting with excitement or disbelief. Yet, she simply opened the letter, her eyes scanning the neat handwriting. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she read aloud.
Hagrid smiled faintly, pride and curiosity mingling in his expression. "Yer special, Elara. Always have been."
"So... I'm a witch?" she asked finally, the word echoing what he had said earlier. There was no surprise in her tone, no shock, just an almost casual acceptance.
Hagrid blinked, his bushy eyebrows shooting up. "Well, yeah," he said, leaning forward, his chair creaking beneath his weight. "Most kids are a bit more... startled, yeh know. This ain't somethin' everyone hears every day."
Elara shrugged lightly, folding the letter and placing it on the table. "It makes sense," she said quietly, her tone thoughtful. "I've always... felt it, I suppose."
"Felt it?" Hagrid echoed, his curiosity piqued. "What d'yeh mean?"
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands, which she placed palm-up on the table. "Things would happen around me sometimes," she admitted. "When I was scared, or really upset... or even really happy or at peace. I couldn't always control it, especially at first. Its like the world bends to help me, even when I don't ask it to." She frowned slightly. "I thought I was just... different. Weird."
Hagrid's expression softened, a mix of surprise and pride. "Yeh've been doin' magic all on yer own, haven't yeh? Wandless magic, no less. That's somethin' special, Elara. Really special."
Elara looked up at him, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. "So... there are others? Like me?"
"More than yeh'd think, though maybe not as talented." Hagrid said, smiling gently. "An' Hogwarts—well, it's the best place in the world for someone like yeh. It's a school fer magic, where yeh'll learn how to use yer powers, make friends, and find a place where yeh belong."
Elara was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of the letter. "Belong," she murmured, another word that tasted unfamiliar. "I've never... I didn't think that was possible."
Hagrid reached out, his large hand covering hers gently. "It is," he said firmly. "Yeh'll see. Hogwarts'll be a place where yeh can be yerself. Where yeh'll find folks who'll understand."
As her gaze drifted back to the letter, she asked, "Will there really be others like me there?"
Hagrid hesitated for a moment, his eyes twinkling with something she couldn't quite place. "Aye, there will. An' funny thing is, we're meetin' one tomorrow. A boy who's got more in common with yeh than most—Harry Potter."
Elara tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Who's Harry Potter?"
"That," Hagrid said, a small, mysterious smile tugging at his lips, "is a story fer tomorrow. Yeh'll see soon enough."
A small, tentative smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you," she said softly. "For telling me... for saving me... foreverything."
Hagrid placed his hand over his heart, his voice thick with emotion. "Always, my daisy. Always." He paused for a moment as if unsure whether to continue. "And... I know it's not the best time, but... Happy Birthday,"
"Birthday?" She breathed out, eyes wide in surprise.
"Well," Hagrid began, his cheeks flushing pink beneath his beard. "It's the day I found yeh, eleven years ago, in the forest. Don' rightly know when yer real birthday is, but... this felt close enough." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Figured yeh ought to have somethin'."
Elara's brows furrowed, her mind latching onto his forest... again. And what does he mean 'found me'?She thought of how casually he said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world, yet each mention carried a heaviness she wasn't ready to unpack. Her heart skipped, but she tamped it now.
Hagrid tilted his head. "What day do yeh usually celebrate?"
Elara hesitated, staring at the quilt. A long silence hung between them before she answered, her voice soft. "I've never celebrated my birthday before."
The words struck Hagrid like a blow. His massive hands stilled, and his heart twinged painfully. "Never?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
She shook her head, keeping her gaze downcast. "It just... wasn't something we did."
Guilt and confusion churned in Hagrid's chest as he studied her. What kind of life had she lived with those Muggles? The corners of his eyes prickled as his mind raced with questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to. Instead, he cleared his throat, desperate to fill the silence.
"Right, then," he muttered, rising and bustling toward the cupboard. "Don't suppose it's much, but... well, I'd planned to take yeh into town today. Get yeh somethin' nicer fer the occasion, y'know." He pulled out a rock cake—or perhaps it was a treacle fudge, hardened from sitting too long—and set it carefully on the table in front of her. Fishing a stubby candle from his pocket, he wedged it into the makeshift treat and lit it with a flick of his fingers.
"Here yeh are," he said, stepping back as if to admire his work. "Now, blow it out an' make a wish, eh?"
Elara stared at the lopsided cake, the flickering flame casting a warm glow on its rough surface. Her lips twitched into the faintest smile, and she leaned forward, closing her eyes for a brief moment before blowing out the candle.
"Go on, then," Hagrid encouraged, nodding at the cake. "Have a bite. S'not much, but..."
She broke off a small piece, hesitating before taking a bite. The sweetness mingled with the heaviness in her chest, and suddenly tears welled in her eyes. She set the cake down quickly, her hand darting up to wipe her cheeks.
"Ah, Elara—I'm sorry, lass," Hagrid said, his voice rising in alarm. "I know it ain't proper, and it's nothin' fancy—should've done better fer yeh—"
"No!" Elara interrupted, shaking her head suddenly. She sniffled, her voice thick with emotion. "It's wonderful. I've never had... anyone do this for me before. Thank you, Hagrid."
Her words struck him harder than any spell, and his throat tightened. He reached out a tentative hand, patting her shoulder gently. "Yer welcome, lass," he murmured, his voice rough. "Yer very welcome."
Elara took another small bite, savoring it, while Hagrid watched her with a mix of pride and sorrow. This girl, this extraordinary child, deserved so much more than he could ever give. But he vowed to himself then and there:I'll make sure she never feels forgotten again.
As she finished the dessert, Hagrid watched how her eyelids grew heavy. After all, it was quite late and she had been through so much today. "Let's turn in for the night. This is yer home now Elara. And yeh'll always have a home with me."
Her smile grew, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. For the first time, she allowed herself to hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, she had found a home. The weight of loss lifted, just a little, as once again the quietness of the hut was filled withtwo heartbeats. Just as it was always supposed to be.