The month before Hogwarts passed in a blur of warmth and wonder. Elara still woke sometimes with the scent of smoke clinging to her memories, but here—in the quiet safety of Hagrid's hut—the ache felt softer.
Hagrid made sure of that.
The day they returned from Diagon Alley, Elara sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by stacks of books. Her fingers traced the gilded lettering ofThe Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1as she devoured every word, her brow furrowed in fascination. She had already skimmed throughA Beginner's Guide to Transfigurationtwice, and now she was cross-referencing it withOne Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, trying to figure out why Alder wood was associated with a willingness to help others.
Hagrid, watching from his oversized chair, chuckled softly as Sage batted at the edge of a parchment scroll. "Yeh're gonna turn yourself inter a teacup if yeh don't slow down," he said, but there was pride in his voice.
"I can't help it," Elara giggled, flipping the page with eager fingers. "There's so much to learn. Magic's not just... spells. It feels bigger. Like it's alive."
Hagrid shifted, tugging at his beard. "Aye, well, you've got a knack for it. Always did, even when you were a wee thing." His voice softened. "Wish yeh coulda stayed longer."
Elara looked up from her book, curiosity flaring in her chest, but before she could ask what he meant, Hagrid cleared his throat and stood with a jangle of keys. "Wait here a sec. Got somethin' for yeh."
She watched as he rummaged in a cupboard, eventually producing a small, clumsily wrapped parcel. He shuffled back over, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as he handed it to her. "Didn't get yeh a proper birthday present, with... well, everything. Figured it was about time."
The paper crinkled beneath her fingers as she unwrapped the package, revealing a leather-bound journal. The edges were worn with age, and when she opened it, the faint scent of ink and wood shavings drifted up. Her breath hitched when she saw the first page.
Notes on Wandlore: Properties of Wood & Core – G. Ollivander.
Elara's fingers traced the delicate script. There were sketches of wands and handwritten descriptions about how the wood chose the witch or wizard as much as the other way around. Each entry was brimming with knowledge—how Larch favored hidden strength, how Black walnut required self-awareness, how Vine wood sought those who searched beyond the surface of things, andsomuch more.
"This... this is amazing," she whispered. "Where did you find it?"
Hagrid shrugged, a faint pink creeping up his neck. "Had a word with Ollivander when yeh were pickin' out yer wand. Thought yeh might wanna know what makes yers so... particular."
Her throat tightened. No one had ever given her something so thoughtful before. She clutched the journal to her chest. "Thank you, Papa." Her voice trembled slightly, though she wasn't sure if it was from the magic in the book or the fact that this was the firstrealbirthday gift she had ever received.
In the weeks that followed, she poured herself into studying the journal, along with her other schoolbooks. There was something magnetic about the words. They spoke of power, of history, of life's deep mysteries. Her hunger for knowledge grew with each passing day, her excitement palpable as afternoons stretched into long hours of study. Elara pored over her textbooks with ravenous curiosity, often cross-referencing the journal Hagrid had given her. She would read late into the night by candlelight, her cat Sage curled at her feet, tail flicking in time with her turning pages.
Sometimes, when the air cooled and the sun hung low, Hagrid would lead her into the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They never strayed too deep, but Elara felt a strange comfort beneath the towering trees. She and Hagrid would take long walks together, sharing quiet conversations while Fang bounded ahead. The deeper they ventured, the more Elara felt at peace among the ancient trees. She felt as though the forest itself welcomed her—whispered secrets only she could sense.
One evening, as the wind stirred the leaves, Hagrid pointed to a silver-barked tree. "Alder," he said. "Same as part o' yer wand. Strong. Loyal. But it bends when it needs to."
Elara brushed her fingers against the bark, a quiet warmth curling in her chest. "Is that why you think it chose me?"
Hagrid didn't answer immediately. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough. "I think it chose yeh 'cause it knows what I do. Yer stronger than yeh think."
She didn't know how to respond to that, so she just smiled, tucking the memory away like a secret.
One afternoon, after a particularly moving conversation with Hagrid about the stars, Elara ventured into the forest on her own. She was careful, avoiding the dangerous creatures Hagrid had warned her about. Her connection to the magic of the forest was growing stronger, and with every step, she felt a flicker of something ancient stir inside her.
She'd learned a great deal about the creatures within the forest—how Bowtruckles were often seen as guardians of trees, how the Thestrals roamed in the deeper parts of the woods, unseen by most. One morning, as she stood near a small stream, she found a gentle Unicorn grazing on the far bank, and she dared not move, mesmerized by the creature's grace and purity.
Even Sage, her mischievous cat, seemed to grow in his own way over time. He was less the curious kitten now, more like a companion who understood her moods, curling up beside her when she studied and following her through the woods. There was an almost mystical air to the way he looked at her, his bright green eyes always seeming to see more than she let on.
The days that followed settled into a comfortable rhythm. Elara spent her mornings helping Hagrid with the creatures under his care. She learned how to bottle silver unicorn hair without pricking her fingers and how to soothe an anxious Hippogriff by bowing low and keeping her movements steady. When a family of Bowtruckles infested his woodpile, she sat cross-legged in the dirt, coaxing them onto her fingers with gentle whispers.
"They like yeh," Hagrid observed, scratching Fang behind the ears as Elara giggled at the tiny claws tickling her palm.
Elara's days with Hagrid were unlike anything she had ever known. The solitude of Hagrid's hut was a balm for her restless mind, and the deep connection she felt to the wildness of the Forbidden Forest was growing every day. She had never been more aware of the strength in her own magic, nor more eager to learn.
As the month passed and the summer wound down, Elara found herself becoming more and more comfortable in her new world—though the questions about her past still lingered. Her bond with Hagrid had deepened. She didn't need to say it aloud, but she felt it in the way they shared small smiles, in the way he kept a protective eye on her, and in the rare moments when he let his guard down, revealing the tenderness beneath his gruff exterior.
The weeks slipped by too fast, and soon the morning of September 1st arrived. At King's Cross Station, the usual bustle of Muggles moved around them, unaware of the magic hidden in plain sight. Hagrid stood with Harry and Elara beside a brick wall between platforms nine and ten, handing Harry his ticket with care. "Jus' stick to yer ticket, and you'll be fine," he said.
When he turned to Elara, his face softened. "You take care of yerself, Elara. If yeh ever need anythin'... anythin' at all..." His words trailed off, thick with unspoken meaning.
Elara hugged the journal tighter against her chest. "I know where to find you."
Hagrid nodded, his broad shoulders seeming smaller as he watched them. "Go on, then. Before I get all weepy."
With a final wave, Elara turned to the wall. She didn't look back—not because she didn't want to, but because she knew if she did, it would be harder to leave.
"Platform 9?" Harry murmured quietly in confusion, staring down at his ticket. "But, Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This say's platform 9. There's no such thing, is there?" Harry asks, finally looking up at his last sentence to realize that Hagrid had left. Him and Elara lock eyes then she peers down at the ticket. They both shrug and make their way into the station.
Pushing their baggage trollies through the station, they see platform 9, and platform 10. But nothing in-between. Walking up to an attendant, Harry decides to ask for help. "Excuse me? Excuse me?" he asks, somewhat out of breath and the slightest hint of panic in his tone. "Excuse me Sir, can you tell me where I might find platform 9?" He asks politely. Elara waits silently.
"9? Think you're being funny, do you? " the guard asks dismissively, "9..." He shakes his head at the nonsensical statement and walks away.
But quickly another voice grabs their attention—a loud woman with red hair, talking to her five children, four sons and one daughter—all with the same red hair. Most notably, however, was the fact that the sons all had with them trollies, just like Elara and Harry. "Its the sameevery year, packed with Muggles, of course. Come on!" She comments, urging her kids along.
"Muggles?" Harry repeats quietly, noting the magical term. Elara and Harry share a glance and follow the woman.
"Platform 9 this way!" She says, arriving at a brick column between the 9th and 10th platform. "Alright Percy, you first." She says, causally waving him over. Then to Harry and Elara's surprise, the oldest son lines himself up with the pillar, and runs at it with his trolly, passingthroughthe brick seamlessly. Elara simply raises one eyebrow curiously, but Harry stares wide-eyed in shock—looking around to see if anyone else had seen it. "Fred, you next" The woman says, waving over one of the boys who look like twins.
"He's not Fred,I am!"The other boy exclaims.
"Honestly woman, you call yourselfourmother?" The first boy says casually.
"Oh, I'm sorry George" The woman says apologetically with a tone of'oh, silly me',then thumbing him to the brick.
He lines up like his older brother Percy did, then looks at his mother. "I'm only joking, I am Fred!" he says with a mischievous grin, then runs before she can playfully hit him. His brother, the real George, follows behind immediately, both of them passing through the brick effortlessly.
Harry shakes his head, as if to check if this is real, eyes wide and mouth agape. Elara simply giggles at the twins' antics and clear mischievous nature. "Excuse me!" Harry pipes up, calling out to the woman. She turns toward him in a motherly manner, placing her hand patiently on his back. "C-could you tell me how to..." he trails off, swallowing nervously, and nodding at the brick. She follows his gaze.
"How to get on the platform?" She chuckles sweetly with kind eyes, nodding her head, and taking his chin in a motherly gesture. "Not to worry dear. Its Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well!" She says, gesturing to her remaining son who seemed the same age as Harry and Elara. He smiles at them, nodding his head and Harry seems to relax slightly. "All you've got to do, is walkstraight at the wall,between platforms 9 and 10." She explains clearly and patiently. "Best do it in a bit of a run if you're nervous." She says, taking his shoulder and nodding.
"Good luck," Her daughter pipes up encouragingly.
Harry lines himself up and braces himself, looking up and down the brick as he sizes it up. With a deep breath, he tenses, closes his eyes, and runs through the wall. Elara curiously watched him disappear, then calmly follows in suit. There was a strange sensation—a shifting, a dizzying moment where the world around her seemed to blur. Her surroundings melted away in a wave of color and sound, and in an instant, the world ahead of them opened up into something magical.
The air was thick with a salty-sweet smell of steam and the echoing sounds of clinking metal. Harry and Elara blinked, both momentarily disoriented, but there it was. A magnificent sight that took their breath away.
The scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express loomed before them, its massive wheels turning with a steady hiss of steam. The train gleamed in the morning sunlight, steam curling up from its sides in a dramatic cloud of mist. Its sleek, polished exterior was crowned with the large letters "Hogwarts Express" in shining gold, as if inviting them to board and embark on a new adventure.
The station was alive with students and families, some rushing to catch the train, others waving farewell. Elara's gaze wandered to the other students around them—some already wearing their Hogwarts robes, some still with their families—and the sense of belonging hit her all at once. She could feel it deep in her bones, the strange tug of something new and powerful.
"Blimey," Harry whispered, his voice full of awe. He looked from the train to the platform, his green eyes wide as he took in the magical sight. "It's incredible."
Elara nodded, her hand instinctively reaching for the strap of her bag. She could barely process the fact that this was really happening. The train, the people, the excitement—it was all so much more than she had ever imagined. Her chest tightened with the weight of it all. A place where she could truly belong. A place where she wouldn't be lost in the shuffle of the ordinary world.
Elara stood a moment longer, her eyes still tracing the train's glimmering rails, before turning to Harry. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a glimmer of excitement dancing in her eyes.
"Ready for this?" she asked, her voice full of quiet anticipation.
Harry grinned back, nodding firmly. "Yeah, I think I am."
With one last look back, Elara and Harry stepped onto the platform, ready to board the Hogwarts Express and begin their new chapter.
The train's rhythmic clatter against the tracks seemed to sync perfectly with the beating of Elara's heart as she and Harry made their way down the crowded corridor of the Hogwarts Express. The air was thick with the buzz of excited chatter, students moving in all directions, their faces glowing with anticipation for the year ahead.
Elara paused in front of a compartment door, glancing inside to find it empty, save for a few scattered bags. "This one looks free," she said, voice bright but laced with the same gentle nervousness she'd been carrying since they left the station. She gave Harry a small, unsure smile as she pulled open the door.
Harry, always quick to follow, slid in after her, the door clicking shut behind them. They sat down across from each other, and for a moment, the silence between them felt comfortable, almost easy—like the weight of the world outside didn't quite matter.
Harry set his trunk down in the corner and stretched out, looking out the window as the train started to pull away from the station. "I can't believe we're actually on our way to Hogwarts," he said, a little breathless with excitement.
Elara nodded, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "I know what you mean." She let out a little laugh, glancing at him.
"Yeah, I didn't know what to expect. But this—" Harry gestured out the window, where the countryside was speeding past. "This feels real. Feels like I'm actually part of something."
Elara's smile softened, her gaze flicking to the window for a moment, lost in thought. "I've always wanted this... to have a place where I belong. To feel like I'm not just... floating."
The silence between them now felt different—deeper, like they were each sharing a piece of their thoughts and hopes that they hadn't shared with anyone else. She looked over at Harry again, and not for the first time, she felt a sense of quiet understanding between them. They were both entering a new world, and it felt like they'd both been waiting for this moment for a long time.
"Do you think it'll be... strange?" she asked after a beat, her voice soft but full of curiosity. "Being in a place like Hogwarts, surrounded by so much magic and... everything. It's going to be hard to know what to expect, don't you think?"
Harry nodded. "Definitely. But I guess we'll figure it out together, right?"
Elara grinned, her nerves fading a little. "Yeah, I guess we will." She leaned back against the window, feeling a little lighter, like the train wasn't just carrying them to a school—it was carrying them to a place where maybe, just maybe, they could figure out what it all meant.
Just then, the door to their compartment slid open, revealing Ron. He spoke politely and apologetically "Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else is full."
Harry and Elara smile. "Not at all." Harry said, offering him a seat, and Ron sat down next to him.
"I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley." He said energetically.
"I'm Elara. Elara Willow" she said softly.
"And I'm Harry. Harry Potter"
Ron's eyes widened in shock and awe. "So... so it's true." Ron said breathlessly. "I mean... do you really have the..." he gestured to his forehead.
"The what?" Harry asks, his brow furrowing
"The scar." Ron whispered barely audible, as if afraid it would be offensive.
"Oh" Harry chuckled in a bright grin, then brushed his hair out of the way to reveal his lightening bolt scar on his forehead.
"Wicked!" Ron said in awe and Harry grinned.
Elara, who had been quietly listening, glanced over at Ron with an almost amused expression. She hadn't exactly understood the level of attention Harry had received—she hadn't grown up hearing about him like Ron had—but seeing Ron's excitement made her smile, just slightly.
Ron blinked at her, a bit taken aback. He had expected her to be just as starstruck as he was, if not more. After all,Harry Potterwas sitting in front of them. But instead, Elara's reaction was so calm, so nonchalant, it caught him off guard. "Huh," Ron muttered, eyeing her closely. "I thought you'd be... I don't know... more, uh... impressed?" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
Elara giggled softly at his reaction, "I grew up in the Muggle world, so... I wasn't really taught that Harry was famous. To me, he's just Harry. Plus we've been friends for a little while now, so none of that is really a shock."
Ron blinked, a bit taken aback. "Wait, you'refriends? Like, you've known him already?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise, curiosity, and awe—clearly seeing it as an honor to be friends with Harry Potter.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" A woman pushing a candy cart suddenly asked.
Ron held up a smashed sandwich ball, with a wry smile "No thanks, I'm all set."
Harry and Elara both note the slight disappointment in his eyes, maybe even a hint of discomfort about not being able to buy something. "We'll take the lot!" Harry says, pulling coins from his pocket.
Ron stares at him in awe. "Woah."
The three of them settled in, the compartment filling with natural, easy chatter as they enjoyed the magical sweets.
"This is Scabbers, by the way. Pathetic, isn't he?" Ron says, referring to his rat.
"Just a little bit," Harry says quietly. Elara stays silent, but her attention is fully on Scabbers and the way her tabby, Sage, seemed to be glaring down the rat from her lap. Sage's eyes narrow with a quiet intensity, and Elara absently strokes the cat's fur, noticing the way the two animals are sizing each other up.
"Fred gave me a spell to turn him yellow. Want to see?" Ron asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Yeah," Harry says, grinning at the idea. Elara, however, watches curiously, though there's a hint of concern in her eyes as she hopes Ron won't actually hurt the rat. She'd never been particularly fond of cruelty to animals.
Ron picks up his wand and clears his throat, preparing for the spell. "Sun—" he starts, but stops just as quickly when a girl looks into their compartment.
"Has anyone seen atoad?"she asks, her voice high-pitched and in a nearly nosy tone. "A boy namedNeville'slost one."
Ron shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowed. "No?"
The girl glances at his wand, her eyes lighting up. "Oh? Are you doing magic?Let's see then,"she says almost haughtily.
Ron clears his throat again, looking a bit put off. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!" he says expectantly. There's a yellow flash from his wand, but it fizzles out into nothing. Most notably, Scabbers is still the same color. Ron and Harry exchange a shrug.
"Are you sure that's arealspell?" the girl asks, amusement dancing on her face. "Well, it's not it?"
Ron shoots a look at Harry, his expression clearly asking'what's her problem?'Elara watches this with a quiet, knowing smile, though she can't help but feel a little second-hand embarrassment for Ron. She wasn't sure who this girl was, but she was very confident in her own skills.
The girl continues, "Of course, I've only tried a fewsimpleones myself. Butthey'veall worked forme." With that, she sits down next to Elara, pulling out her wand and focusing on Harry. "For example," she adds haughtily, pointing the wand at Harry's face.
Harry, who'd been silently observing, stiffens a little, his eyes widening at the wand pointing so close to him. He doesn't want to make a scene, so he just watches, his hands clenched on his knees.
"Oculus Reparo," the girl says with confidence. Just then, the tape on Harry's glasses flies off, and his glasses are instantly mended. The change is so swift that Harry blinks in surprise.
"That's better, isn't it?" she asks, clearly pleased with herself. Harry stares at his glasses, almost in disbelief, running his fingers over them as though they'd changed from pure magic.
He looks to Ron, who lifts his eyebrows in a shrug, almost begrudgingly impressed. Harry, still processing, glances at Elara. She simply smiles, the corners of her mouth lifting in quiet acknowledgment.
"Holy cricket!You're Harry Potter!" the girl suddenly whisper-yells, her eyes wide with realization. "I'm Hermione Granger," She says quickly, before snapping her head to Ron, a look of mild judgement on her face, "And... you are...?"
"Um, Ron Weasley." Ron says, mouth full of chocolate, looking a little awkward now as he attempts to wipe his face.
Hermione grimaces slightly in distaste at the sight of Ron's half-chewed chocolate. "Pleasure." her gaze flicks back to Elara, who is still sitting quietly. Elara smiles politely at Hermione, her calm demeanor offering an interesting contrast to Hermione's overzealous energy.
"Elara," she says, her voice soft and measured. "Nice to meet you, Hermione."
Hermione seems to pause for a second, her eyes flicking between Harry, Ron, and Elara. She's quiet for a beat before giving Elara a slight nod. "Nice to meet you too," she says, though her tone is still a little sharp. "You all better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." Her voice is almost bossy now, but it's clear that she's trying to be efficient.
She stands up, but just before she exits, she turns back to look at Ron, her nose wrinkling slightly. "You've gotdirton your nose, by the way?Did you know?Just there." she says, pointing at his face. Ron looks at her in confusion, rubbing his nose, but she's already turning to leave, her head held high, as though satisfied with her inspection.
Elara watches the interaction in silence for a moment. Her eyes glimmer with a hint of amusement as she looks at Ron, who's still wiping his nose. "Well, that was an interesting first impression," she says, her voice gentle but laced with a soft humor.
Ron lets out a nervous laugh, wiping the last of the chocolate off his hands. "Yeah, tell me about it," he mutters, his face still flushed from the encounter. "She seems... different."
Harry chuckles lightly. "I think she's a little intense."
Elara nods thoughtfully, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "But I think she means well. She's just... a bit forward." Her voice is calm, but there's a quiet understanding in the way she speaks.
Ron shakes his head, still unsure of how to process Hermione's directness. "I don't know, but I think we'll get used to it."
Harry, grinning slightly, reaches for some more candy. "Well, we're going to be seeing a lot of her, I'm sure."
Elara's smile widens, though her expression remains tranquil. "I'm sure we will."