Elphaba818's Author Note:

Welcome! Welcome one and all! I'm Elphaba818! This is a project I've been working on for many months now along with my new friend here on FF and fellow co-author of this story: SharKohen. To those of you who read Rise of the Brave Tangled Frozen Dragons stories, you might recognize her name, because she's the author of several amazing Big Five stories here on the site, two of which include The Guardian Games series (Hunger Games AU) and More Than a Bird, More Than a Plane (Superhero AU). I'm so happy that she was willing to collaborate with me on this idea, a Big Five series in a Hogwarts AU world! And to those of you who read my work, Elphaba818, you might recognize me as the writer of The Winter Servant under Frozen/Rise of the Guardians crossover. I'll be juggling it alongside this story for some time, but I assure you that it's not abandoned! I've just been busy working on this recently.

Anyway, you're all in for a wild ride! I don't think anyone's tried writing a Big Five/Hogwarts AU story in the same way that SharKohen and I have decided to write this! It's going to be a real joy to write this, especially with someone as creative as Shar! I really hope that you all will like this collaboration! I believe that not only will you find a new reason to love the friendship between the five members of the Big Five all over again by reading this, but you also find a new reason to love the Harry Potter universe just as you did when you first gave JK Rowling's fantasy world a chance, be it via the incredible book series, or the thrilling movies. I know I've been in touch with my childhood days of being a die hard HP fan while writing this first chapter! The question is, will you feel that way too, dear readers? ;D

To all my fellow friends here on FF, I hope you're reading this! It's my sincerest wish that you like this story! It's going to be a magical journey, my friends! An incredible magical journey!

Well, that's all from me for this time! I'm going to turn it over to SharKohen now! But before I do, I have one last request from all of you:

Please read, review, and above all, enjoy the chapter!

SharKohen's Author Note:

Wait, is it that author that writes a bunch of Rise of The Brave Tangled Frozen Dragons that are pretty fun to read but, you know, take FOREVER to update (#self-praise #shamelessasheck #thankyouthankyou)? What's she doing here?

Well, if you have a problem, blame Elphaba818. It's all her fault. And also my lack of discipline and my desire to live a life beyond the spindles of imagination, but please just blame her because I'm incredibly immature and have no idea how to take responsibility for my actions.

In all seriousness, I hope you, my good reader, would have an enjoyable time digging through yet another AU. There have been many Harry Potter AU stories for the ROTBFD fandom floating around for sometime, and this is merely our interpretation of how we think it should go. Hope that you may enjoy this convoluted mess, and leave a review so that we can squeal and shriek over the idea of people actually reading this.

Ciao, SharKohen.

Chapter One: The Departure From Platform 9 3/4

The 19th Century was a remarkable year of progress for Great Britain, such as with the successful transfer of state power from the monarchy to the people – well, more accurately, the lords, but the lords were supposed to represent the people, so… somehow, that was supposed to work out. It was the era of the steam engine and the industrialized world – with all its vices. It was the time of scientific discovery – indeed, the first theory of electromagnetism was written in this period of time – and the era of expanding empires.

That was, at least, in the Muggle world.

The Wizarding world was not as fixated on categorizing their history in the numerical digits, but preferred to cast their tales in a narrative form, and hence referred to big blocks of time in terms of their events – for example, that time Muggles hunted down witches and burnt on stakes, only that they didn't really know how to distinguish witches from non-witches. Or that time when Goblin started rebelling, and kept just rebelling. Or that time when the Dark Lord started a war that pitted son against father, ally against ally, neighbor against neighbor, and the entire Wizarding world had expected him to win.

'Had expected' was the key phrase.

On the snow-covered hills of Dartmoor was where one particular wizard found himself. He had to admit he was not quite familiar with the land here - not being of English origin himself – and he had a hard time directing his team of reindeer to fly in the direction that he desired.

"Well, this had better be it," he spoke in the cold, dark night, possibly to the reindeers that were strapped to the front of his sleigh, or perhaps he was talking to himself.

His round, jolly form then stepped off the sleigh, gazing grimly out into the dark, snow ridden moors. Even though he technically knew what the address was, there was no sure way for him to know if he had found the right place. The ones who had sent him the location had not wanted to attach a tracking spell on it just in case it fell into the wrong hands, so he had been left wandering around the freezing countryside of South Devon, dropping himself near unfamiliar farmhouses and leaving disgruntled. Here, just some distance away, was yet another house standing surrounding by barren plots of land, looking just like all the others he had seen.

Nicholas St. North, or as he was often called, North informed his ride to wait as he began his journey towards the farmhouse.

His way was illuminated by the full moon above, making it unnecessary for him to draw out his wand to cast a 'Lumos' spell, but it sadly did not provide him much warmth. Wrapping his furs more tightly around himself, North drew out his wand in preparation to casting a warming spell when a movement on the ground gained his interest.

From a pile of snow emerged a grey-haired bunny, small in its stature and freezing, by the way its body was shaking. It was not the usual type of bunny one would find the wintry English moors, and already North had recognized it. With a wide beam that was almost enough to rip apart his frozen beard, the large man greeted the creature, "Well, it seemed that I have found the right place at last. How do you do, Bunnymund?"

At the call of his name, the cute bunny seemed to wrinkle his nose in disgust, before growing abruptly in size. Downwards-pointing front paws lengthened out, along with its flat-footed hind limbs stretching and straightening. The fur and whiskers all vanished to reveal tanned, rough skin. The man with grey-hair and clothes too thin for a breezy winter stood himself upright to face his colleague.

"'Bout time you got here, old man," was the growled reply, as Bunny clutched his bare arms, shuddering. "Now—" he jerked his head towards the farmhouse. "—can we get out of this horrific weather?"

When North entered the house for the first time, he was surprised by how ordinary it looked. There wasn't much inside in the first place, just a welcome mat, some bookshelves, a mantelpiece over the burning fire place, a shattered window, shredded curtains, broken china, an overturned dining table, a leaking water pump, cracks along the wall—

"It looked way worst before you got here," Bunny sniffed, whipping out his wand and waved it at the shattered china. The porcelain pieces picked themselves off the ground, spinning a bit in the air before flying themselves to cupboard, stacking themselves up neatly.

North watched also as the shredded curtain began to mend itself, thanks to the gifted wand-work of another of his colleagues on site. Out of them, the chatty Toothiana was said to have an eye for small detail, hence her obsession with many small things, such as teeth, pins, buttons, thread and again teeth. She was not chatting now though, brows furrowed in concentration as she enchanted the fallen shards and had them return to their rightful position over the window sill. Finally, the freezing wind and its snow was shut outside. The repaired curtain was next to fly up, hooking itself back up and normalcy was restored.

On the other end of the room was Sanderson, a wizard so small that he often been mistaken for a goblin. He was rearranging the chairs and tables of the sitting room, though with his hands and not his wand. He then proceeded onto the dining part of the space to rearrange the furniture there and North hurried over to lend him a hand.

The four of them spent a few silent moments patching up the cracks along the house, fitting back the loose pieces in the floorboards and reversing the damaged that had been wrecked on the various objects sitting around. It was only once everything seemed to, for lack of better words, Muggle-worthy, that North finally turned to his fellow companions and asked tersely, "What happened?"

It was clear by the hesitation that no one wanted to answer at first. Tooth had sunken herself into the plush armchair, fingers fidgeting. Bunny had taken it upon himself to stare intently at the mantelpiece above the fireplace, as it was truly a vital action. Finally, it was Sandy who answered, but he did not speak. Instead, he removed his wand from his pocket, waving it. At once a flurry of golden sand appeared over his head, melding into symbol after symbol, which told North just as clearly as in words, "You-Know-Who was here."

Even though he had guessed as much, North couldn't help but suck in a tight inhale. He gazed around the small interior of this simple cottage and he shuddered to imagine that it had so recently been filled by the very entity that had shaken the entire Wizarding world.

Then Sandy's choice of words hit him, and North repeated, "'Was', you say?"

"He's not here anymore," Tooth said. A flash a smile seemed to have crossed her lips, before slipping back to somberness. "He's been vanquished."

"Good riddance," Bunny muttered acridly, choosing at that moment to adjust the position of the clock on the mantel. "The war is finally over."

"Well, that is good news, no?" North was a little confused by the lack of enthusiasm emanated from his fellow colleagues. After all, the enemy had been defeated, the threat had been lifted and the war was over. He felt certain that there was something missing – something darker that they insinuated. Not being one to beat around the bush, he pressed them, "What is it you are not telling me?"

It was then that the creaking of hinges was heard. A door that North had not noticed before had opened and from it a haggard, worn figure emerged.

The owner of the figure was unremarkable by appearance, but in North's opinion, worthy of the world's commendation and respect. Sadly, the balding professor, whose frame had thinned and shoulders drooped increasingly over the years of the war, seemed more broken than ever as he moved towards his younger companions. Tooth had risen immediately from her seat when she saw him and even Bunny had torn himself away from the fireplace to face him. When the professor caught sight of North, he gave him a small nod of acknowledgement as a greeting. North gave a small bow as a reply, and said simply, "Manny."

"How are they?" Tooth inquired softly, as if anything less than silence would shatter the world around them.

Manny pulled door behind himself, ensuring it had shut with a definitive 'click' before speaking, "Fast asleep. They are unharmed and have no idea what just occurred – not the woman, nor the two children."

It was only then that the truth had really dawned upon North and it was fortunate that a chair had been so close by at the time, for his lower limbs had abruptly lost the ability to support his weight. Sandy, who had been standing by his side at the time, patted him comfortingly on the arm, though his own eyes were too full of sorrow.

"So, should they know?" Bunny inquired bluntly. "I mean, their home just got wrecked, if nothing else." He had never been the most tactful of them and North shot him a glare to let him know exactly that.

Fortunately, Manny was nothing but patient – and he certainly had to be to put up with Bunny, in North's opinion – and he answered gently, "It would be best if they didn't. Even with the Dark Lord defeated, his followers are still at large. For their safety, it is essential this family remains hidden, even if that means-" the man let out a long sigh "-foregoing the knowledge of tonight's events."

The animagus did not appear pleased by this. "You won't even let them defend themselves?"

"They wouldn't be able to defend themselves regardless," Tooth defended Manny's argument, looking darkly at Bunny. "They don't have the ability to."

"Tooth is right. Two children so innocent shouldn't grow up under the shadow of fear." Manny himself moved towards the dining table and sat himself down. "They deserve better."

Sandy, who never seemed to be fazed by anything, had then produced the newly-repaired china teapot which had been conveniently filled with hot water. He began pouring out the tea into cups and handed them out to his fellow colleagues.

Manny took the offered cup with thanks, but did not drink from it, just holding it in his hands to warm them. Tooth sipped slowly on the tea, controlled and methodical, still fervently trying to stay quiet, it seemed. Bunny merely sniffed his tea, then inhaled it aroma, but like Manny, did not drink it. North immediately down the contents down his throat, only to realize that what he was drinking was still boiling hot and he proceeded to spew the tea back in the cup, coughing hard while his tongue burned. No one amongst the company commented on his lack of etiquette, being too absorbed in their own thoughts. Though Sandy did tell him through sand-covered symbols, with much amusement, "Not Vodka."

"Noted," North muttered hoarsely, before coughing once again.

Once the sting on his throat started to fade off and coughing fits halted, the large man found himself stroking his beard in thought and the word running through his mind came spilling from his mouth, "Why?"

Heads were raised towards him curiously.

"Why here?" North clarified his outburst, "Why them? What did he expect to gain from it?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Bunny growled scornfully, though the scorn was not aimed at North. "He hates Manny. He hates us. He hates Muggles." He let out a sardonic chuckle as he did. "So, why not?"

"That wasn't it," Tooth murmured. "He was afraid." Now that the attention of the room had shifted to her, but she didn't seem to notice, staring down at her near emptied cup. "And in his attempt to defy the prophecy, he brought about the end of himself."

"That is not necessarily true," interjected Manny's heavy, tired voice. "He is defeated, yes, but he's not gone. Not forever." At this, his younger companions all turned sharply at him, straightening up in alarm. Speaking this clearly brought the old professor no joy, but it was a truth that had to be said. "You might not be able to feel it, but I can. I—" his hands tightened around his teacup, regret thick in his tone "—I have been bound to him far longer than any of you. I know him better than I wish I did. He's only gone in body, not in soul."

"Well, that's just brilliant," came Bunny's bitter reply, as he tipped his tea into Sandy's empty cup. The golden-haired man clearly was not pleased that the animagus had not appreciated the beverage, but sipped down the tea regardless, as not to waste it. "Absolutely bloody, flippin' brill—"

"Excuse me, but who are you?"

It was only then that the company had realized that they had gained another member – a small, thin boy with curious brown eyes and dark chocolate hair. The little lad, who couldn't be older than five, carried a candle by its holder and he was standing by the doorway, gawking at all of them.

The adults all froze in shock, teacups paused in mid-air and words stolen from their lips. The boy took a step towards them, unafraid but still a little wary. He held the candle up higher, his corners of his lips turning downwards as he asked, "Are you burglars?"

North, who out of all the company, was nearest to the boy at the time and somehow managed to find his tongue. "No."

"Oh." The boy appeared rather relieved to hear that answer. "Good. We don't have very much to steal, anyway." He continued to step towards the dining table, pausing to look at Tooth and saying, "Your hair is green."

"Y-yes," Tooth stammered, a little surprised by his frank assessment.

The boy continued to stare at her for a few seconds, then said while nodding his head, "Well, it's very pretty." He then spun around to face Bunny, craning his head up to take in full features of the skilled animagus. "You look like an escaped convict."

North had to choke back a laugh when he saw how Bunny's eyes narrowed into slits. "Really?"

"Yes." The boy's voice was unwavering and his face straight.

"Do you even know what 'convict' means?" challenged the man, folding his arms and raising his brow.

"It means criminal, prisoner, or offender," came the proud answer. At that, a chuckle escaped North throat, unable to contain his amusement at Bunny's predicament. The boy whipped around to face him, pleased that his little show-off had been taken so well. "I looked it up in Papa's dictionary yesterday. He left us an awful lot of books, you see."

The silence that invaded them was so forceful that its presence was almost tangible. None on the table could speak, not even Manny who stared at the boy with such intensity that it was remarkably that the young lad hadn't felt the weight of it yet.

Eventually, it was North who cleared his throat and beckoned the boy towards him. The child moved towards him obediently, headed tilted to the side as he assessed the large man and his thick fur clothes. North gestured to the chair across his own, so the lad sat himself down, still gazing at the large man with wide eyes.

Stroking his beard, he inquired, "What is your name, child?"

"Jackson Overland Frost," the boy recited, with a hint of distaste as he did. "I don't like it. It's very long."

"Indeed."

"Call me Jack," he insisted, smiling in a manner that was frighteningly familiarly. "That's what Mama calls me."

"Well, Jack—" casting a glance towards his colleagues, then back to the boy "—what does your father call you?"

"Oh." The boy appeared a little stricken by his question, his self-assuredness fading abruptly as he began fiddling with buttons of his nightclothes. "Erm, well, I don't know. I don't actually remember a lot about him. He's been gone for so long."

It was beyond all doubt that now the entire room was listening closely. Silent glances were exchanged as North, wearing an unreadable expression, continued to question him. "When did he leave?"

"I don't know." Jack shrugged, forehead creasing as he thought. "But I suppose he'll back soon." The way he said made it clear that he was quite optimistic about the prospect.

The truth of the matter was hence unveiled, and the tragedy could not be denied. A sob broke out unexpectedly from Tooth, who had quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. The boy however had caught it and his head swung instantly towards the woman.

"What's wrong?" he asked, bewilderment sketched over his young, innocent features. "Do you know Papa?"

Tooth could not reply, so being so overwhelmed by her emotions, and it was known that it was best if she did not. At that moment, Sandy quietly left the dining room to return to the kitchen, where no doubt he had obtained the tea from earlier on.

Wanting to distract the boy, North then asked him, "So, Jack, how old you?"

"Four," the lad answered, though his gaze was still fixed on Tooth. Bunny had then guided the young woman to a chair and offered her a handkerchief, which she used promptly to bury her face in. For all his disagreement with Bunny, the stout Russian knew that, at heart, he was gentleman.

"Four, eh? Do you have any siblings?"

"My sister. She's called Emma." This seemed to do the trick, for Jack promptly then tore his eyes from Tooth and proceeded to unleash an avalanche of enthusiasm. "She's very small, and she cries and screams a lot. Mama says that because she's hungry, and she's always drinking milk. I don't understand." The young lad scrunched his face up in confusion. "Why does she always have to drink milk? She's so small, so where does all of it go? Does it go into her blood? And I don't understand. Why does she drink milk when she's hungry? Shouldn't she eat food when she's hungry? Maybe she's just very thirsty. I mean, when I'm thirsty, I drink a lot of water. I like milk too, but milk makes me feel even more thirsty. So if she's thirsty all the time, why is she drinking milk? Maybe she should drink more water instead. Water always makes me feel better after a long hot—"

"After all that talking, you must have worked up thirst," North interrupted smoothly when he noticed Sandy emerging from the kitchen carrying a tin cup.

The small man approached the boy with his little offering and the boy's eyes lit up when he saw the water. He took the cup gratefully and emptied half its contents in one big gulp.

Jack then turned back to North. "Mama say I drink like a camel. I don't know what a camel is, but I read in a book that there are camels drink a lot of water. You see, they live in big places called 'desert'. I've never seen a desert before, but it's supposed to be very hot, you see, and there's very little water, so these camels—" then abruptly, the tirade ceased.

The boy's eyelids drooped and his posture sagged. Sandy managed to catch the cup from his small hand before it fell to the floor and North caught Jack's limp form before it slipped from the chair. Scooping up at the now-sleeping lad, he then looked expectantly at the rest of his companions.

"He can't know of us coming here," Manny said. There was a great reluctance in his manner. "In fact, he shouldn't know about us at all." His head swung to Tooth, who was now dabbing her eyes. "Would you mind helping us with that, my dear? You're the most careful of us, and we do not want to hurt his young mind."

The young woman appeared quite hesitant, if her quivering lip was anything to go by. Nonetheless, she blew her nose in the handkerchief once more – much to Bunny's disgust, then resignation – before rising to her feet. She removed the wand from the pocket of her robe as she moved towards the boy. North helped to prop Jack up so that she could direct her wand at him.

Her voice was almost breaking as she uttered, "Obliviate."

Later, Tooth was the one to carry the boy back to his room, and Sandy was the one to carry all the used china back to the kitchen. North suspected that Tooth had volunteered out of a sense of guilt, despite her task having been necessary. Bunny went to put out the fire and poked the ashes, for no one could know after their little visit tonight. North then took the moment to approach his old teacher, who had not spoken a word after giving his instruction to Tooth.

At that moment, Manny was staring down the empty dining table which had its chairs fitted back around it, as if they had never been touched. North wondered if his mentor was imagining all the meals that had been taken around that table, with food that hadn't prepared with an ounce of magic and dishes that had never been charmed, by people who would never know what had been taken from them.

"So, what now, Manny?" North inquired quietly, as not to startle the professor out of his thoughts.

The older fellow did not reply immediately, and when he did, there was hollowness in it. "His followers need to be apprehended, but I don't doubt that Aurors are already on the case. So, my good Nicholas—" he clapped North warmly on the shoulder, smiling weakly "—we should celebrate. The war is over, after all."

"Yes. But—" the big man couldn't help but lift his head towards the corridor that led to the sleeping quarters. Tooth had already emerged from what had must have been the children's room and was still drying her tears on her sleeve "—are they really safe here?"

"As safe one can get in the Muggle world, I imagine," Manny reply. "Besides, don't you feel that?"

North paused, trying to find what exactly his friend was referring to but not being able to place it.

Fortunately, the balding professor was generous enough to supply the answer. "Love protects this household – the strongest I've ever felt. Unrelenting, yet gentle." He let out a sigh, mixed with gladness and sadness both. "The Frosts are in no danger as of now."

The big man then found himself releasing a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. With that fear out of the way, he could allow himself to relax a little. Manny was right. The war was over. Now was a time for joy, not sorrow.

All the same, a part of him grieved that they would probably never see the boy again. Though a tad too excitable and talkative, North found himself liking the young Jack Frost. It was pity that they had to part ways, but if they were to keep the Frosts safe, it would be best for them to keep their distance. Besides, it wasn't often that people like them were called to the Muggle world.

It was almost like Manny could read his thoughts, for the old professor then told him, "Oh, do not weep, my friend. We will see young Jack again."

"We will?" North was surprised.

"I suppose he had you distracted, or you would have noticed it too." Manny jerked his head in direction of the bedrooms, where the young lad lay fast asleep. For the first time that night, North saw a genuine smile on his old mentor's face. "We'd see him at Hogwarts in a few years' time, I imagine."

The scarlet steam engine let out a shrill blast from its whistle, signaling to everyone waiting on the platform that it would be leaving soon.

The platform was packed in fact with great swarms of families, each one bustling about. Parents tried to get their children on board the train with all their necessities for the upcoming school year. Trunks containing their textbooks, robes, and any other essentials were loaded onto the red locomotive. Those who had chosen to bring along their pets, such as owls, cats, toads, and other unusual creatures, loaded them on too. Sleek and shiny broomsticks, which couldn't be fitted into trunks, were slung over shoulders. Pockets were double-checked for the most essential item of all – a wand.

Because the train that departed from Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross station in London, England was not a normal train. It was the Hogwarts Express, and every year at the start of the school term, it would carry all the young witches and wizards to the finest magical school that existed in the mid-1870's: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Every start-of-term departure from Platform 9 3/4 was always an exciting day, and one certainly never forgot the first time that they experienced it. Such was the case with one small, excited eleven-year-old girl.

She sprinted out from the concealed barrier that marked the entrance to the enchanted platform while accompanied by her reserved and rather proper looking mother, who was kindly pushing her trolley. The girl's bright, turquoise blue eyes were already alight with excitement, but the moment she spotted the gleaming scarlet steam engine, she spun herself around to gawk at it. A gasp of awestruck delight escaped her lips when she spied the words Hogwarts Express stamped across the black smokebox, printed in beautiful gold letters. Although her older sister had crossed this platform three times before, she herself had never been allowed here before.

Her name was Anna. Princess Anna of Arendelle.

"Mother! Mother, look! There's the train! It's the train to Hogwarts!" she cried out, pointing eagerly at the shiny locomotive.

Her mother, Queen Idun, a slender and fair-skinned beauty with lovely chestnut brown hair, lightly laughed at her youngest daughter's enthusiasm. She gently lowered the girl's pointing finger. "Yes, Anna. I can see the train. But do not point like that! It's not proper."

"Oops. Sorry, Mother. I forgot." Anna was sheepish, but her enthusiasm was in no way dampened. It had been her first time in forever to leave their little Nordic kingdom, and she had never seen a real steam train before.

"I know you are excited, Sweetheart, but remember, witch or not, you are still a princess." Idun gazed back towards the barrier that they had both emerged from, waiting expectantly for the other half of their small family to appear, but after a lengthy pause, she sighed. "I suppose your father's stalling again."

"Stalling?" Anna repeated, puzzled. "Whatever for?"

"Your father and I aren't magical people, Anna. Though we've done this a few times now with your sister, well—" Idun quickly raised her hand close to her mouth to politely hide a small, barely noticeable chuckle "—I don't think he's ever really going to believe that he can actually run through a brick wall."

It was then that two sprinting bodies suddenly materialized from the brick barrier entrance onto the secret magical platform. One was pushing a trolley cart with a heavy trunk stacked on top of it, while the other hovered quietly behind. As they slowed down from the quick run, Anna's face immediately brightened.

"Father! Elsa!"

She darted forward and nearly knocked over her father with the ferocity of her hug. While King Agnar of Arendelle was the less expressive of the royal parents, Anna knew he was good and wise, both as a king and a father. She knew she looked very much like him, as she had inherited his strawberry-blonde hair. She was just missing his friendly bottle green eyes and the neatly combed mustache. Other than that, she could almost be considered his miniature female twin.

While Anna's features resembled Agnar, her elder sister took after their mother. Both had bright blue eyes, fair skin, and light pink cheeks, with the only difference being hair color. Her slender frame drew up next to Agnar, not speaking a word.

Eventually, the Muggle king separated himself from his youngest daughter's embrace. He appeared to be a little wobbly on his feet. "That barrier…" Agnar shook his head, sounding disgruntled. "Every time we pass through it, I lose ten years of my life!"

Idun smiled sympathetically at her husband. "It's only six more times, dear."

"Splendid, just splendid," he groaned. He took a few more seconds to regain his bearings, and then turned to Anna. "Well, all set for school then?"

"Yes, Father!" Anna agreed, her red braids bouncing around her head as she hopped up and down a few times in her excitement. "I'm so excited to be going to Hogwarts! A real-life magical castle – just imagine that!" In truth, they did live in a castle back in Arendelle, but it wasn't magical. In fact, Anna would describe it more as dull, cold, and disturbingly empty, but she didn't dare tell her parents this. No need to open up that can of worms right now.

Agnar chuckled as he gently patted her on the head. Anna beamed as she peeked around her father's body, expecting to see Kai, or Gerda, or at least some accompanying guards. It took her a while to remember that other than her parents, no one else in Arendelle knew about Elsa, and now herself, being witches. Anna didn't know all the details, but according to her parents, some wizard law limited knowledge about Hogwarts and the Wizarding world to those who had magic. Parents were the only exception, as school fees still had to be paid. But so great was the secrecy that when her sister had first been enrolled, Anna was told that she was attending just a Scottish finishing school. She was so happy that she no longer needed to be kept in the dark. There was enough about Elsa that she already didn't understand.

Unlike her excited and free spirited little sister, the crown princess and future queen of Arendelle was the picture of proper elegance, hands clasped before her and back straightened. She stood out like a sore thumb, almost looking like a stranger standing off to the sidelines observing a true loving family of three say their farewells rather than actually being a member of the family. Her shocking white-blonde hair against the reddish-brown hues of their own only seemed to emphasize the oddness of their presence.

And indeed, Elsa was odd. For many years now, for reasons beyond Anna, she had taken to wearing a pair of white silk gloves on her hands all the time – that was, when she hadn't locked herself up in her bedroom. The one time Anna dared to question her sister about it, Elsa had completely clammed up. The reaction had been truly bizarre to the younger girl and if she dared to admit it, it hurt. But Elsa was still her sister, so Anna forgave her. Most of the time.

Now that they were both going to Hogwarts, all Anna wanted was for them to get along. And talk. And be the best-est best friends in the whole world, like they had been when they were little. That wasn't too much to ask for, right?

But by her stiff posture and the small frown on her face, Elsa did not seem to share her sister's desires.

Shaking her head, Anna attempted to resume her cheerful chatter. "I wonder what which of the Hogwarts houses I'll get in! I can barely remember their names though..." She frowned as she wracked her brain, then turned to her sister, eyes hopeful. "Elsa, which one are you in? Sittering? Stitching? Slithering?"

"It's Slytherin, Anna. I was sorted into Slytherin…" Elsa whispered the last word as though it was hard for her to speak it, her jaw going rigid at the same time.

At the sight of their daughter's distress, Agnar and Idun exchanged puzzled expressions. But being the hyperactive, bouncing ball of energy that she was, Anna completely missed her sister's strange reaction. "Slytherin! Let's cross our fingers that I'll be a Slytherin, too! That way we can spend all our time together when we're at school!"

Unsurprisingly, her sister wasn't very encouraging. "There's no guarantee that you will end up in my house. You… You'd do better in any of the other three houses anyway…"

Elsa looked as though she wanted the topic of conversation to end with how her gloves creased in her wringing hands.

Unfortunately, Anna had no intention of letting the subject drop. "No way! If you're in Slytherin, I want Slytherin!" The train whistle blared again and Anna's head instinctively turned towards it. She grinned as she watched people climb aboard, and then swung back around to face her sister "C'mon! You can tell me all about Slytherin on the train!"

The little eleven-year-old darted forward to try and grab hold of her older sisters' hand, but the fourteen-year-old girl took a large step backwards, preventing any type of physical contact between them.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Anna, but I have already promised that I would sit with some other people during the ride to school," she said rather quickly.

Anna blinked, taking in this new information with surprise. "Oh, you planned to meet with your friends? You never mentioned that you had friends at magic school before!" Well, she never mentioned anything about magic school, but it was supposed to be a secret. "Can you introduce me to them?"

But Elsa shook her head. "You should use this time to try and meet some others in your year, Anna. You might make some friends."

"But… But Elsa—"

"Mother, Father?" the older girl said, swiftly turning around to address their parents. "I… I think I'll go on ahead and board the train first. You can help Anna get her trunk on board, right?"

"Of course," said Idun, immediately nodding. "We don't mind at all. Go and find a nice, quiet compartment for yourself and… and your friends."

Elsa nodded in return, and then gathered up the edges of her blue dress in her hands to make a nice, respectable curtsy. "I'll see you again when the school year ends…" she said, sounding a little sad.

Agnar smiled. "You'll be fine, Elsa. And remember to always wear your gloves."

"Yes, Father. I'll remember."

"Look after Anna," Idun added. "It's her first year. She knows nothing at all about Hogwarts. Just…" her hands unconsciously wrung themselves together. "Just try to be there for her as much as you can."

There was a brief pause that Anna didn't fully understand, but after a few long, tense seconds, Elsa finally forced herself to nod again. "I will try, Mother."

"Thank you, Darling."

Idun reached out to try and hug her eldest daughter goodbye, but just like when Anna tried to touch her, a flash of panic shined in Elsa's bright blue eyes. She again moved a few paces backward, shuffling towards the trolley with her belongings. "I… I really must be going now, Mother! I… I'm sorry…" she quietly murmured.

Idun's smile turned rather sad from Elsa's rejection to her hug, but she made no comment on it.

Elsa was about to start pushing her cart forward to head onwards to the train by herself, but at the last moment, she paused to glance back over her shoulder to her parents. "I'll miss you both. I'll… I'll write."

She then spun back around and pushed her trolley forward, all but vanishing into the massive crowd surrounding the Hogwarts Express.

While Agnar and Idun watched Elsa leave, Anna frowned, overwhelming feelings rolling over her. Why did Elsa always do this? And why did her parents not care that Elsa acted so coldly like that? As common place as it was, it was still strange.

Well, it was easier for her to think of it as 'strange' rather than 'downright hurtful.'

"Anna? Dear? Are you all right?"

"Yeah… I'm okay, Mother…" Anna did her best to produce a somewhat happy smile.

But Agnar and Idun knew their daughter well. They could tell she was hurt from how Elsa had left her first train ride to Hogwarts.

"Anna," her father spoke gently. "Elsa loves you. You know that, right?"

Anna huffed at his words. "Does she? She never shows it."

"Elsa is simply different from you, Anna, and she needs her space. But she is your sister, and deep down, she loves you more than anything," Idun said kindly. "She just… She just doesn't know how to show it."

The small strawberry-blonde girl sighed, but then reluctantly nodded in acceptance. "I know, it's just… I… I just wish I knew why."

"We'll talk about it another time, Anna," was her father's answer, though it sounded like he was choking a little. "The train will leave soon, and we need to make sure you're on board with your all things before it does. You don't want to miss it, do you?"

"Oh, no! No, of course not, Father!" The girl's eyes flashed in alarm at the thought. "I want to go to Hogwarts more than anything!"

Idun smiled. "Good, good. Shall we go?"

"Oh, I think I can make it to the train myself," Anna said hurriedly. She glanced back out at the crowd which Elsa had disappeared into. If her sister had boarded the train herself, perhaps she should too. She was already eleven, after all. She was grown up enough to look after herself. Noting her parents' surprised expressions, she hastily threw her arms over them both, embracing them tightly.

"Love ya both!" Upon freeing them, she grabbed hold of her trolley and sped off into the crowd. "I'll write!" she called back.

"Be careful, Anna, dear! It's rather—" Idun stepped forward, as if wishing to hold her daughter back, but it was already too late. The small strawberry-blonde girl had vanished in the whirling throng. "Oh, dear…"

"Let her go, Darling," Agnar comforted her. "She'll be just fine. And besides—" he let out a heavy exhale, his shoulders sagging with worry "—between the two, Anna's not the one I'm worried about…"

With her parents left behind, it became obvious to Anna that from here on end, she was on her own. Through the chattering students, the jammed trolleys, and the great piles of suitcases, she struggled to push her trolley towards the train.

How did Elsa make navigating this whirlpool of bodies look so easy? But then again, Elsa had always been nothing short of graceful in everything. From what the little princess had seen earlier, her elder sister had the uncanny ability to avoid making body contact with anyone. When she had steered her trolley cart through the packed mob, she always moved out of the way in time before anyone could bump into her, and not once did her trolley cart accidentally knock into anyone else either.

But Anna was nowhere near as skilled in navigating the crowd as her sister was.

"Oops! Sorry! I didn't mean to bump you— Sir! Sir, please watch your foot…! Please, pardon me, ma'am! I'm just trying to get through!"

No matter which way Anna turned her trolley, there was somehow always a person blocking her path. Apologies were spilling continuously from her lips as she wondered how her sister had managed what could only be a miracle.

As luck would have it, something large and heavy slammed into her back, and she screamed as she toppled forward. Her trolley went flying from her hands, rolling away from her a short way ahead. With nothing to keep her from falling, she slammed face first into the hard ground in front of her.

Well, that was exactly a fortuitous start of the term.

Prying herself off the ground, Anna felt a little annoyed that her runaway cart had not hit anyone else, so she was the only one sprawled on the ground like a fool. So she hastily climbed to her feet, dusting off the dirt from her expensive green dress. Glancing herself over, she was glad to note the lack of cuts, scrapes, or bruises.

Now that the initial shock of the experience had worn off, the red-headed eleven-year-old was more annoyed than anything. A scowl crossed her face as she sought out the culprit responsible.

"Hey! Just what's the big idea?! You... You just..." the Muggle-born girl's words completely trailed off when she finally got a good look at the one she accused.

It was a teenage boy roughly around Elsa's age. He wasn't exactly broad-shouldered or very muscular, but he still had a nice physique. There were a couple of freckles on his nose, and his bright auburn hair had a gentle wave in it, spreading down the sides of his face into sideburns. But it was his eyes that really captured Anna's attention. They were a bright shade of brilliant green, and the concern echoing in them nearly made her go weak in the knees all over again. He was a poetic epitome of the beautiful stranger – tall and fair. Anna's brain lost its concept with reality as she stared up at him, with the curious wish to stuff chocolate in her face.

He appeared quite distraught as he pulled his cart away from her. "I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?"

Anna's small heart all but skipped a beat. His voice held a trace of a slight Danish accent, which was rather attractive actually. And he was talking to her! Her! Oh, if there was indeed some type of divine god watching over her right now, please don't let her embarrass herself with the handsomest, dreamiest boy she had ever met.

"Hey! Uh… uh, no, no. I'm okay," she said in a frenetic rush, letting out a fake giggle.

The handsome older teen, however, seemed to take no notice of her obvious attraction towards him, and quickly maneuvered himself around his cart to see for himself. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah! I… I just wasn't looking where I was going, but… but I'm great actually!"

"Oh, thank goodness." A smile spread across his face, and Anna had to force herself to remember how to breathe. He stared down at her for a moment, just with that smile, before blinking and shaking his head. "Where are my manners?" Bowing, he introduced himself, "I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, though I shall be eternally regretful that it was—" he eyed his trolley grimly "—in such a manner."

He was a prince? Had he any imperfections? Desperate to make a good impression of her own on this dashing boy, Anna turned on her brightest smile as she dipped down into a quick, polite curtsy.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Princess Anna of Arendelle."

"Princess…?" Now it was Hans' turn to be surprised. "My lady!" He dropped down onto one knee into a deep bow of respect.

Anna flushed deep crimson. "Oh, my! Er... you don't have to…"

"No, please. It's not every day that one is honored by a princess as lovely as yourself." A charming smile appeared as he straightened back up, before he turned a little more grave. "I'd like to formally apologize again for hitting the Princess of Arendelle with my trolley cart and for every moment after."

"No! No-no! It's fine!" Anna chimed in at once. "I'm okay, really! I'm not that Princess! I mean, if you'd hit my sister Elsa, that would've been… well, yeesh!"

"Oh?" Hans appeared to be intrigued. "Your Elsa's younger sister?"

She nodded vigorously. "You know her?"

"Yes." There was an odd expression on his face, one that she couldn't decipher. "We happen to be in the same house."

"You're a Slytherin too?!" Anna's jaw fell open. "Oh, wow! Now I have another reason to wanna be in Slytherin!"

"Really?" Hans laughed at that. "You wish to enter Slytherin?"

"Yep! If you and my sister are in it, Slytherin must be the best!"

The older prince chuckled again at the younger girl's words, before glancing back towards the train. "Well, we should board the train before all the compartments get filled." He moved to retrieve his trolley once again, but before moving off, he turned to her, pausing briefly and saying, "It's your first time here, right? Maybe you should stick with me till— Oww!" Something had knocked him hard right on the head.

Anna's blue eyes went wide with shock. As for Hans, he was startled, but his expression was quickly morphing into one of fury. Who in this world had the guts to bop a prince on the head like that?!

The redhead whirled around to face his grinning assailant.

He was the older child of his family – tall, skinny, fair-skinned, and fourteen. While weaving through the crowds while pushing his luggage cart, he spotted a certain someone up ahead. Upon noticing that the red-headed boy with sideburns had his back turned to him, a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes.

He briefly turned his head to glance at the two behind him. "I'll be right back! Gotta do something first!"

Without waiting for a reply, the boy pushed his trolley cart with one hand and raised his wooden staff up with the other. The staff greatly resembled a shepherd's crook on the curved end, but it was not to be used for such a purpose now.

It had been a full summer since he'd last seen Hans Westergaard. Now was as good a time as any to say hello. Or rather, give the prince his version of a hello. He snickered to himself as he stepped away from his cart, and snuck up quietly behind Hans. Oh, he couldn't wait to the look on his face after he did this!

He raised the end of his staff, and then proceeded to give the redhead a firm tap on the head. Not hard enough to hurt him, but with definitely enough force to ensure that the wizarding royal felt the action.

The Danish prince cried out when he felt it, spinning furiously around as he clutched at the bump on his head. His mouth opened initially to let out a fierce tirade of curses and shouts, but then he finally got a good look at the one responsible. In less than a second, the infuriated glare morphed into bewilderment.

The mischievous boy snickered as he swung the end of his staff over his shoulder. "What happened to all the clever remarks?"

Incredulity was sketched all over the prince's face. Finally, he said, "Geez… It's been months since you've seen me, and the first thing you do is whack me on the head."

The boy considered the statement, then answered brightly, "Aw, I missed you too!"

"You're impossible, Jack Frost."

"I consider that a compliment." The grin on Jack's face increased ten-fold when he watched his friend roll his eyes.

The redhead shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. "One day, I will get around to killing you."

"Sure, sure. Whatever floats your boat, man."

Some would find their friendship strange – a pure-blood wizard prince and a Muggle-born shepherd boy – but it worked out pretty well. Jack valued his friendship with Hans Westergaard despite their differences. There were very few people in Slytherin house that considered him to be more than an annoying, filthy Mudblood that pulls pranks, and Hans was the best of them. He never seemed to care about Jack's blood status as much as his housemates did. The prince struck up a friendship with Jack back when they were first years, and now, on their way to becoming fourth year students, they were still the best of friends.

"Come, come, Prince Sideburns! Don't pout on me," Jack went on, swinging his arm around his friend's shoulder as he spoke. Hans still appeared to be rather disgruntled, but he didn't shrug the boy off. "Had a good summer?"

The prince's annoyance faded, turning sardonic instead. "As good as it could be, I guess, considering I was stuck with my brothers every second of it and they were jerks."

"I've told you a million times before, haven't I?" Jack let out a dramatic sigh. "Invite me over one day. I'll pull off such a wicked prank, none of them will ever dare to mess with you again!"

Hans sighed. "Yeah, yeah. You've got to remember to write during the breaks, otherwise I won't remember to ask my folks."

"Fine, fine… but remember, I—"

"Who's this, Hans?" Jack blinked, and peered over Hans' shoulder. There stood a small red-haired girl looking up at him with big, curious blue eyes.

"Oh, hey there! I didn't see you!" He released Hans and moved towards her. "You must be Hans' kid sister!"

Hans blinked at Jack's assumption while the small girl squeaked and flushed a bright shade of red. Jack didn't have a clue what made them look so uncomfortable all of the sudden, but he kept his mouth shut on it. This was the first time he had ever met any of his friends' family. He might as well try to make a good impression.

"I'm Jack. Jack Frost." He stuck a hand out. "Hans and I have been friends for years. It's nice to meet you. But I must say, Hans never said anything about having a little sister! What's your name?"

"Oh! Well… uh—"

"Jack, stop hassling people."

The one who spoke was a small girl around Anna's age with hair and eyes just as dark as her older brother's, and dressed in a tatty brown dress. Like Jack, she was pushing a small trolley cart in front of her with all her belongings. She was gazing at Jack with a disapproving look on her face, quite unlike the calm expression on her mother's face, and Jack couldn't help but snicker.

He stepped away from Hans to teasingly ruffle her hair. "Hassling? Now why would I do that, Emmy? This here is Hans! My best friend! I was just saying hello to him and his sister!"

Hans awkwardly chuckled. "Uh, well actually, Jack—"

"Jack! What have I told you about calling me, 'Emmy?!'" snapped the little girl, batting his hand away. "My name is Emma!"

Jack amusingly raised a brow. "What, you don't like it when I call you 'Emmy,' Emmy?"

Emma growled, stomping her foot. "I'm not five-years-old anymore, Jack! Calling me 'Emmy' makes me sound like a baby!"

"But aren't you acting like one right now?"

"I'm acting mature, unlike you!"

"Throwing a tantrum over a nickname isn't how a mature person would act."

Emma fumed. Her big brother was her hero and best friend, but he drove her nuts with how he called her 'Emmy' all the time! 'Emmy' made her sound like such a little kid! She was eleven now! He should treat her more like a grown up! Why oh why couldn't Jack grow up? "Why you—!"

"Emma and Jackson Frost, behave yourselves!" their mother, Katherine Frost, scolded as she neared them. She was a kindly-looking woman, with gentle gray eyes, auburn hair, and a warm smile. Now, however, she was frowning at her two children. "We're in public, for goodness sake!"

"Sorry, Mom."

"Yeah, sorry…"

Their mother gave them one last cross look, and then planted a smile back on her face as she curtsied politely. "It's nice to finally meet you, Prince Hans. Jack's told me a lot about you, but he never mentioned that you—" she paused to gaze at the small girl with red braids "—had a younger sister, too."

"Oh, uh, Jack's mistaken, actually," Hans began, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "This is Princess Anna of Arendelle. I just bumped into her right now. We're not related."

"Definitely not," the little princess added vehemently, as if frightened of the very thought.

"Oh…" Jack flushed with embarrassment. "Sorry about that!" In a strangled voice, he added softly, "Kill me now…"

Katherine still looked flustered at the notion of possibly disrespecting members of royalty, but she didn't get the chance to say anything further, as Jack had started speaking again.

"Anna of Arendelle… Hmm… you wouldn't happen to be related to a girl called Elsa, would you?"

"She's my sister!" Anna's whole face lit up. "You know her too?"

Jack chuckled. "Yeah… or rather, I know of her. Never talked to her much. She keeps to herself."

"Where is Elsa, by the way? Shouldn't she be with you?" Hans asked.

"She boarded the train already. She had to meet some friends," Anna answered, sounding rather dejected.

The two boys exchanged silent looks of confusion, with Jack mouthing 'Friends?'. Hans only frowned and shrugged. They honestly had no idea who Anna could be referring to.

"So," Jack went on, wanting to change the subject, "what year are you in, princess?"

"Just Anna, please," the little girl requested eagerly. Good. She wasn't one of those snobbish blue-bloods. "And it's my first year."

"Really? What a coincidence! Emmy's starting this year, too!"

Emma furiously huffed and stamped her foot. "Jack! It's 'Em-ma!' Not 'Em-my!'"

"Whatever. Just say hello, Em."

Emma threw him another quick scowl, but then focused her attention on Anna and smiled. "Hi, I'm Emma. Emma Overland Frost. The younger, but still much more mature Frost sibling."

"Hey!"

"It's an honor to meet you, Anna," she went on, ignoring her brother. "I never thought I'd get to meet a real-life wizard princess."

Anna giggled. "It's nice to meet you too, Emma. But I'm not really a wizard princess. I mean… Well, I got my letter, but my parents can't… aren't… yeah…"

"Oh! You're Muggle-born, like Jack and me?"

"Emmy," Jack nudged her, his smiled abruptly fading. "Don't go around saying stuff like that. It's not polite."

"Oh, it's alright," Anna interjected quickly. "I don't mind." She turned to face the other girl. "Yep, I'm Muggle-born. You can imagine my surprise the day my letter arr—"

She was cut off by the whistle booming across the platform, making them all jump a bit in surprise.

"It's been doing that for a while now," Hans noted. "Perhaps we should get on board."

"I'll miss you, Mom!" Emma said, quickly wrapping her small arms around Katherine's middle. "I wish you could come with us to Hogwarts."

Katherine Frost laughed as she wholeheartedly returned her daughter's hug and softly kissed her hair. "I'll miss you too, Emma. It'll be far too quiet without you or Jack around."

Lingering only a few moments longer in her mother's arms, Emma reluctantly stepped backward a few paces and out of the hug, her lower lip trembling a bit. But before she could burst into tears, Jack turned her head towards him. "Hey, no tears! It'll be alright! I'll protect you from all the big bad witches, Emmy."

"Don't call me Emmy!" She furrowed her brows at him once again, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed that she wasn't really angry.

"As you wish… Emmy."

Steam poured out Emma's ears as her temper flared, but before she could start snapping at Jack yet again for his use of that awful childish nickname, Jack had already turned his attention to Katherine. He flung his arms around her for a quick hug. "We'll see you again at Christmas, Mom! We wouldn't miss your stuffed turkey and Christmas pudding for the world!"

"I'll look forward to that, but Jack…" she drew herself back to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Look after Emma? Even if she doesn't end up in that snake house of yours."

"Of course I will! Don't worry! Big Brother Jack's on the case!"

"And try not to get into trouble this year. If… If I get one more letter saying that you've… oh, I don't know… blown up a toilet or something, I'll—"

"Blown up a toilet? I've never done that before, but great idea! Thanks, Mom!"

"Jackson Frost!"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

"Good. Now let me hug you properly."

It was a loving gesture no doubt, but Jack made a face as he dropped his staff and struggled to break free from his only parents' strong hold. "Hey! C'mon, Mom! We're right in front of Hans! No mushy stuff!"

Hans had to hide a quick snicker behind his hand at that, which made Jack fight even harder to wriggle out from Katherine's arms, but his efforts only succeeded in making his mother hug him tighter and tighter. "I love you very much, Jack."

Jack groaned, but finally gave up on struggling and returned the hug. "I love you too, Mom."

The wild teenager made an exaggerated sigh of exasperation as Katherine planted one last kiss on his forehead before reluctantly releasing him. "Alright," she sighed, smiling. "Off you go, then."

Waving a final goodbye to their mother, Jack and Emma pushed their trolleys on. Anna and Hans had already gone on ahead towards the entrances to one of the cars. The redhead prince, ever the gentleman, helped the young princess to carry her belongings up the narrow stairs, only for her to blush and stammer that she could do it herself. As her small figure hurried into the carriage, Hans descended back down the steps to approach Emma, doing the same with her luggage as he had with Anna.

Jack immediately snatched his sister's trunk from his friend's hands. "Stop that," he ordered.

Hans blinked. "Stop what?"

"Being such a flirt."

"I'm not a flirt. I'm a prince."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive. You want to help? Then here! You can carry my stuff, Lord Chivalrous." With that, he thrusted his staff and knapsack into the redhead's arms, making him stagger back a few paces. Jack smirked in amusement before turning back to his sister and jerking his head toward the train. "Come on, Emmy. Let's get you on."

"Stop calling me Emmy," the little girl snipped, snatching her trunk back from her brother roughly. "And I'm old enough to carry my own things."

Jack chuckled, thoroughly amused. "Suit yourself," he shrugged. As he watched Emma ascend the steps of the scarlet train, luggage in tow, he was shocked when he felt a hard thwack! strike him right on the head. "Oww!"

"That—" he heard Hans say smugly, waving his staff around to emphasize "—is why you don't go around giving your wands to other people." He paused for a moment, and then added, "Also, revenge is sweet!"

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. "This thing just barely functions as a wand as it is," he grumbled, seizing the long, crooked piece of wood back from the Danish prince. "It's far better as a Quidditch broom."

"True," the redhead admitted. With both of the girls already on board, the two boys began unloading their possessions from the trolleys. As he hauled his heavy trunk off his cart, Jack noted that amongst Hans' things was his own broom. Though he was a prince, his broom was an old hand-me-down from the other older Westergaard boys, as evident by the frayed bristles and the chipped wooden body. It had seen Quidditch victories from all of the Hogwarts houses over the years – Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and most recently, Slytherin. "So, what do you think are the odds of us winning the Quidditch Cup this year?"

"Zero to none thanks to the Ginger Demon. What do you think are the odds of her coming down spattergoit?" Jack muttered, struggling to carry his trunk up the train steps.

"Not very likely. She never gets sick – except on test days." As Hans began his ascent into the carriage, he halted abruptly, his gaze focused on something off in the distance. Jack was puzzled, but before he could try and inquire why, his friend jerked his chin forward. "Speak of the devil."

The other Slytherin followed his line of sight to find the Gryffindor girl in question, standing some distance off, thick messy mane of unmistakable red curls. She had her back turned to them since she was deep in conversation with her family.

Jack's pearly white teeth flashed in the light, and then with one last chuckle to himself, he opened his mouth. "Oi! Princess Ugly!"

But the pure-blooded crown princess of the Scottish, magic-only kingdom of Dunbroch was a brash fourteen-year-old girl whose fiery hair matched her quick temper. The moment she heard the insult, she whirled around, her blue eyes narrowing in on a certain brunette Slytherin boy she so-happened to despise.

"I can't believe you actually responded to that! I guess you do know just how ugly you are!" he cackled while ascending the steps of the train, vanishing inside a moment later alongside his conceited prince of a friend.

Incensed, she screamed, "Arrogant Snake! Get back here and say that to my face, you limey bast—!"

"Merida!" Her mother's voice sharply cut in. "A princess does not use such vile language."

"Ugh! Mum!" The girl scowled, hissing, "You have no idea how annoying he is."

"Regardless, a princess never stoops to the same level of her antagonizers. She speaks only with grace and tact, with the maturity to dismiss such childishness," was her mother's unsympathetic admonishment. "Really, you need to set an example to others of this school. What would they think?"

"Come on, Elinor! It's just the Gryffindor in her," her father defended. "We Dunbroch's have always been proud folk, and no slimy Slytherin should ever get the last word. In fact, I'd like to march over there and give that nasty little worm a taste of my—"

"Fergus!"

"Right…" Her father deflated under his wife's glare. "Sorry, love."

Merida folded her arms across her chest and blew a loose curl from her eyes. Being the princess and successor to the throne was no picnic. Like her bossy mother stated, she had to be the example. She had duties, responsibilities, expectations, along with a tabled schedule of her entire life. The writer of that schedule was her mother, of course, Queen of Dunbroch and now also the Minister of Magic. As if she wasn't already overbearing and controlling enough.

How she loathed being a wizarding princess!

"Oh, and Merida," her mother went on, back to brisk business once again. "The clans are expecting to hear your decision by winter break."

"What?! But Mum—!"

"Merida, it's only a betrothal, not the end of the world. I never had the chance to know your father before our wedding, so you should be grateful to be able to meet and choose your suitors beforehand."

"You mean suitors you've picked out for me," Merida grumbled, folding her arms.

Elinor was not pleased with her daughter's attitude, and her stern defense made it evident. "They are well-born, pure-blood princes and your schoolmates. What more can you ask for?"

It took all the willpower Merida had to bottle her rage up deep inside and not cause a scene in public. She did not want to become betrothed and therefore forced to marry after graduation! She wanted her freedom – to choose her own fate and destiny! When she had told her parents this before, her father was sympathetic. But her mother was completely unmoved, telling her point blank that tradition was tradition. By Christmas break this term, Merida would have to pick her betrothed from three appropriate 'princes' her mother had chosen.

A sudden tugging on the blue fabric of the skirt of her dress snapped Merida out of her furious musings. Three sets of big blue eyes stared up at her impatiently from the faces of three little boys. Their arms were folded across their chests as they glared up at her, waiting impatiently for their older sister to finally say goodbye to them.

"Hamish, Hubert, and Harris," Merida said, her own ill-mood vanishing as she crouched down to embrace them. "I take it you will all miss me while I'm gone?"

The boys on the far left and the middle both nodded at her question, but the one on the far right frowned for a fleeting instant before his scowl reappeared, and then he began glaring daggers at a spot on the ground right near his feet.

"Don't throw a fit, Harris. It's only one more year," she assured the youngest of the trio. "Just you wait! By this time next year, you three will be boarding the train with at least a thousand prank ideas you've all cooked up."

Harris gasped with delight, as did Hamish and Hubert, and within a split second, the trio was exchanging sneaky looks with one another as they started chuckling darkly.

"Merida! Don't go giving the boys ideas," her mother reprimanded her.

Elinor's words made Merida scowl once again as she rolled her eyes.

The queen caught it, brown eyes narrowing. "A princess does not roll her eyes at her superiors. If you don't start acting the way a princess should act, I'll have you transferred to Beauxbatons. Hogwarts has clearly not been a good influence on you – what with all this rebelliousness."

A look of horror rapidly spread across Merida's face. Beauxbatons Academy of Magic? Her mother's posh enchanted finishing school of an alma mater? She couldn't be serious!

"But Elinor, Dunbrochs have been going to Hogwarts for generations. It's tradition!" Thank goodness for her father's defense and using her mother's favorite word. Merida shot him a grateful look.

Her mother however was undaunted. "It'd be good for her to have the etiquette classes that Hogwarts clearly lacks. That, and less unruly sports." She eyed Merida's Quidditch broom with obvious distaste. Of course, her mother never appreciated her participation in Quidditch, or in the Dueling Club. Or Enchanted Weaponry. Or even Muggle Studies.

"Merida! Merida! Over here!"

Merida spun around, an eager smile quickly replacing the dark look she had been sporting. Running towards her while pushing her trolley cart was a fellow fourth year Gryffindor girl. Her blonde braid was bouncing about down her back as she hurried toward the Scottish royal family.

Merida immediately waved her hand high over her head to make sure the girl in the spiked skirt and shoulder-guards could see her greeting above the heads of people still moving about in the crowd. "Astrid! Hi!"

Astrid Hofferson – half-blood, hot-blooded, Gryffindor to the core, and of course, Merida's very best friend.

Oh, and she was also a Viking, which was why both of the Scottish monarchs were now frowning pointedly.

"Merida," her mother began severely.

Merida scrunched up her face in displeasure. "Why are you always going on about her, Mum? She isn't like the Vikings that Dad fights."

"But she's a Viking nonetheless," Elinor argued. "If these are the kind of people you choose to associate with, it's no wonder your behavior's becoming steadily barbaric."

"I hate to say it, lass, but your mother's right," said Fergus, clapping a hand down on his daughter's shoulder as he shook his head. "Vikings are vicious folk. You best stay clear of them."

Merida opened her mouth to contest these remarks, but closed it shortly after. For three years now, she had tried time after time to change their minds about her friend, but to no avail. It didn't matter that Astrid was decent, honest, and downright brilliant at Quidditch. It didn't matter that she was from one of the more peaceful tribes from the magical Barbaric Archipelago. Astrid was still a Viking, and that automatically meant that she was evil.

"If you don't want to see her, then I'm going on ahead," she said at last, moving forward to embrace her father and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Bye, Dad."

"Have a good term, my wee lass!" the Scottish king laughed, squeezing her tightly in his muscular arms. "Destroy those Slytherins!"

"Fergus!"

Ruffling her brothers on their heads for a brief farewell, Merida paused as she drew up to her mother. Tensions ran deep between the two of them these days. She remembered back in her first year, she had clung Elinor's waist with all her might and bawled when it had been time to go. Things had really changed.

"Have a good journey and see you soon, your highness," her mother said to her, firmly and formally.

Merida knew how she was supposed to respond. Her mother had been ramming etiquette lessons down her throat for a reason. Lifting her skirt slightly, she made a small curtsy. "Thank you, your majesty. I wish you well on your return home as well."

A rare smile appeared on Elinor's lips for the first time since they arrived on the platform.

It promptly disappeared however when Merida took off in a fast sprint into the crowd, unkept red hair flying everywhere as she whooped in a very unladylike manner.

The queen sighed, and then turned to murmur sourly to her husband, "I don't understand that girl."

Fortunately, Merida was too eager to reunite with her best friend to hear her mother's complaint. With the enmity between their kingdoms, it had been impossible for them to visit each other during the holidays. There was so much to catch up on.

"Astrid!" she called out as she skidded to a halt before the blonde-haired Viking girl with her trolley.

The blonde grinned wholeheartedly as her best friend at Hogwarts other than her fellow female Viking friend from her village appeared before her, and quickly high-fived the pure-blood witch. "Merida! Great to see you! How was your summer?"

"Oh, you know," Merida shrugged. "Princess lessons with my mum. The bane of my life."

"Ugh. Sounds awful. I don't know how I'd survive if I had to learn etiquette."

"Yeah, well, now I'm facing an even bigger problem thanks to my mother. She's forcing me to choose a fiancé already!"

Astrid stared at her with wide, shocked eyes. "What?! So soon?! But… we're still in school! You haven't even graduated yet!"

At that point of time, Merida noticed from the clock tower at the station that it was almost time for the train to depart. The crowds around the train started to thin out, with most students already on board. "C'mon," she said, nodding towards the carriage nearest to them. "I'll tell you all about it on the train."

As they scuttled quickly up to the carriage door, they suddenly heard a sharp wolf-whistle. Both their heads immediately swung around in the direction of its source, which was none other than Slytherin's resident playboy, Flynn Rider. Noting the two girls glancing his way, the dark-haired youth waggled his eyebrows suggestively while making a lewd gesture with his hands.

The two Gryffindor girls narrowed their eyes, muscles tensing as they watched the boy lift his trunk off his trolley while making his way to a different carriage. He didn't heed their warning expressions, however, and threw them a mocking kiss.

Merida's temper fumed. "Did you bring your sword?" she muttered to her friend.

"Better." Astrid kicked open one of her trunks with her leather boot. As the lid popped open, she used the tip of her foot to kick her axe up into the air, catching it deftly in her strong hands. Merida grinned as she yanked out her bow from her knapsack, drawing a few arrows from her quiver.

The girls didn't need to exchange words before simultaneously launching themselves forward, weapons brandished and screaming fury at their now thoroughly terrified offender.

As the two unlikely best friends continued yelling war cries while they dashed towards the flirtatious Slytherin fourth year, they were completely oblivious to the fact that they were being watched.

Or rather, that Astrid was being watched.

Okay, that sounded creepy. But it wasn't really. He had nothing but respect and admiration for her – honest to Thor!

A scrawny fourteen-year-old boy with a freckly face and a faint white scar just below his bottom lip gazed out of the window from his compartment. He had a thick mop of rich auburn hair covering his head, with bangs that he kept needing to brush away. A longing smile strayed on his face as his bright green eyes followed every movement that the blonde Viking girl made.

After all, Astrid Hofferson was the bravest, strongest fourth year witch amongst all of the students who came from the magical Viking island of Berk in the Barbaric Archipelago – not to mention the prettiest, too. It was no wonder then he had been crushing on her for as long as he could remember.

Of course, she was ignorant to how he felt about her, and she would continue to be so. Even though he was the son of their village chief, he knew he was no catch. After all, he was an embarrassment, a subpar wizard, and a hiccup. That was his name, actually.

No, not 'subpar wizard,' or 'embarrassment.' Hiccup. As in 'Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.'

Great name, he knew. But it wasn't the worst. Viking parents believe a hideous name would frighten off gnomes and trolls – like their charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

Seriously, he knew his dad didn't exactly have high hopes for him, but 'Hiccup?'

His shoulders sagged at the thought, and he couldn't help but sigh. "What am I thinking?" he mumbled to himself. "She wouldn't come near me even if she was on fire and I had the only bucket of water in the world."

"Talking to your reflection, squib? And here I thought you couldn't sink any lower!"

The obnoxious remark made Hiccup groan, and he turned away from the window to gaze as the speaker.

"What? Can't a guy admire his own good looks?" he drawled sarcastically.

The other boy, a fourteen-year-old with dark brown hair sitting in the seat across from him, sneered at him. "Good looks? What good looks, Useless? You're a walking fishbone! Dragons would use you to pick their teeth!"

It was Snotlout Jorgensen, his idiotic cousin – not that they ever acted like family. Though in Gryffindor like Astrid, he lacked decency and fair play. Interaction with him compromised largely of obnoxious boasting and sloppy name-calling.

"A walking fishbone?" Hiccup raised a brow and sighed, turning away. "As always, Snotlout, your insults are the pinnacle of creativity."

His cousin frowned, trying not to reveal his confusion about the statement. "Well, you…" he stuck a finger out at him, paused, then folded his arms. "…you're a stupid Hufflepuff squib!"

This earned cackles from the Thornston twins, who would honestly laugh at a rock given the opportunity. If foolishness was the primary trait of Gryffindors, they'd be the pride of their house. Fishlegs Ingerman, the last of the students from Berk, did not react to Snotlout's unimpressive jibe, but did not add anything in the Hufflepuff's defense either. He kept his eyes on his book and continued reading, like a smart Ravenclaw should.

"Thanks for the reminder," Hiccup murmured, trying to suppress feelings of hurt. He should have been used to these by now.

Apparently, being a Hufflepuff on Berk was considered worse than having all your appendages chopped off before being hurled in shark-infested waters. Vikings were daring, strong, brutish, loud, obstinate, and blatantly unhygienic – everything that Hiccup was not. Perhaps it made sense that he belonged to the throwaway house. He was quite disposable, after all.

"Hey, squib! Did you even hear what I just said?!"

Hiccup rolled his eyes as he focused back on Snotlout. "I hear you. I'm just not listening," he drawled.

As expected, his cousin blinked at him stupidly. "Huh?"

"Forget it. It's nothing."

"Whatever, I was just wondering if you wanted to get in on the bet!"

"Bet?" Hiccup repeated, now giving Snotlout his full and undivided attention. "What bet?"

"We're betting on which of us will get to slay the Monstrous Nightmare in class!" said Ruffnut eagerly.

Dragon Fighting Class was somewhat of notorious elective in Hogwarts. Some thought it dangerous and others unnecessary. For Berkian students, however, the former was expected and the latter was untrue. Ever since the first Viking wizards had claimed the Isle of Berk as their home, they had been plagued by dragons attacking the island. Although the villagers would always drive them away, and there had been countless times that Aurors from the Ministry had visited the island to try and assist in the situation, the dragons would always return, flying off with livestock and fish, destroying houses, supplies and… families. Like his own.

That was how his mother died – a dragon raid when he was a baby. That was all he knew about her and honestly, that was probably for the best. It was hard enough on Hiccup knowing that he was a failure as a son and heir to his father.

Tuffnut, the male twin of the Thornstons, nodded, a cocky grin making its way across his lips. "Minimum fee to get in on the pool is five Galleons. Care to wager more?" He jingled the coins in his hand enticingly. "Winner gets the dough from losers after Gobber makes the announcement."

"Tuff, remember to call him Professor Gobber from now on," Fishlegs cut in. "He is going to be our teacher this year, so we have to address him respectfully."

Gobber the Belch was Berk's resident blacksmith and forger of enchanted weapons. He was also Hiccup's master and Hiccup had been working for him since he was little. Well, littler. While the work at the forge was difficult, the boy did enjoy his work as an enchanted blacksmith. Especially when he could sneak snippets of conversation in with an otherwise ignorant-of-him Astrid. The girl needed to sharpen her axe somewhere.

But Gobber wasn't just the island's blacksmith. He also doubled as a teacher at Hogwarts to teach kids dragon fighting. It'd been quite a while since he last taught, really, but now that Hiccup and the others were fourth years, he had volunteered to take up the position at the school once again. Hiccup was glad that Gobber was going to be coming with them. With him around, he wouldn't have to go through his entire fourth year of school the same way he had for the past three, completely alone and friendless. And he was finally going to learn how to fight dragons, become a true Viking, make his dad proud, and maybe even get a date.

Okay, okay, let's not get ahead of himself.

Hiding his excitement, Hiccup asked them in a neutral tone, "How much are you guys betting? And on who?"

Ruffnut grinned as she held up a handful of rather large, solid gold coins and a few mid-sized pure silver ones, cheekily declaring, "Seven Galleons and five Sickles says that anyone other than Tuff fights the Monstrous Nightmare!"

"Oh, yeah?" Her brother fumed, and promptly dug his fist into his pocket until he fished out more of his own wizarding cash. "Well I bet nine Galleons and four Knuts that anyone other than Ruff fights it!"

Ruffnut promptly slapped the back of his head. Before the two of them could start up one of their usual sibling fistfights, Fishlegs spoke up, "I… I can't bet much, but I say Astrid has the best chance out of all of us. Six Galleons and five Sickles."

It wasn't a lot of money Fishlegs was betting, but dough was dough. Astrid was the best fighter out of all of them back home.

"Astrid's bound to do well. She's going to be the best out of all of us one day," Hiccup commented, smiling wistfully as he thought about all the times he'd watched his crush train with her enchanted axe out in the forest back on Berk. Okay, so this was starting to get a little creepy… "She'll be a great Auror one day!"

Fishlegs nodded and the twins smiled, Ruff's being twice as big as Tuff's. As the only other girl in their group back home, she and Astrid were very close. "'Course she will! Actually, I change my bet! Astrid's going to win!"

"I'm changing mine to Astrid too, but I'm increasing my bet!" Tuff cut in. "Twelve Galleons and eight Knuts!"

"Oh, yeah?! Then I'm increasing mine, Tuff!" Ruff snapped. "Fifteen Galleons! Fifteen Galleons and eleven Sickles!"

Tuff's eyes nearly popped right out of his head. "Fifteen?! Damn, Ruff! Are you trying to bankrupt me?!"

"Maybe I am. Why? Can't afford to bet higher?" Ruff asked, sounding more than a bit haughty as she spoke.

Her twin growled with rage, but before he could say anything, a polite knock resounded on their compartment door, and all thoughts of anger flew right out of his head as everyone's heads curiously turned toward the sliding glass door.

"Is that Astrid?" Fishlegs questioned. "I thought she said she was going to sit with that Scottish princess."

"She did," Hiccup confirmed, rising to his feet. "Maybe she changed her mind?"

He carefully moved forward while avoiding stepping on anyone's toes, and slid the door open. Turns out, it wasn't Astrid who knocked. Instead, the smiling Trolley Witch with her cart of candies and sweets stood before them. She apparently decided to get an early start this year in moving up and down the train selling her confections if she was doing it right now, before the train had even left the station.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked them.

All at once, everyone swarmed around the cart as they picked out their favorite snacks and forked over their money. Having plenty Galleons and Sickles jingling about in his pocket – he might be his island's village chief loser, but he was still the chief's son – Hiccup bought himself plenty of Chocolate Frogs. While the enchanted frogs were neat and he loved the chocolate, it was the magical collectible cards inside that he really wanted. He'd been collecting the Famous Witches and Wizards Cards ever since he was a kid, and he had never quite shaken the habit.

As the kind elderly witch pushed her cart onwards, Hiccup reclaimed his seat by the window and dumped his load of treats right next to him. He prepared to tear open the packaging of one, only to find his snack abruptly snatched right out of his hand.

"Hey!"

Snotlout smirked as he clutched his cousins' sweet in his meaty fist. "What do you need so many of the stupid frogs for, Useless? It's not going to build up any real muscle."

Hiccup's ears burned as Ruffnut and Tuffnut burst out laughing again.

"C'mon! You know I collect the cards!" the auburn-haired Hufflepuff snapped. "You got yourself plenty Pumpkin Pasties! Give it back!"

He lunged forward to snatch the Chocolate Frog out of his hand, but Snotlout was much too quick. Being much taller than Hiccup, he swiftly leapt to his feet, and waved the candy mockingly over Hiccup's head.

"Oh, right! I forgot you're such a baby!" the Jorgensen laughed. "Card collecting! Baby Hiccup! You know, I'm surprised you haven't been featured on a card yet, as the world's most useless Viking wizard in history!"

Hiccup's whole face was scarlet at this point with both shame and anger, and the fact that the twins were about ready to fall out of their seats at this point from how hard they were laughing. Even Fishlegs had to completely turn his humongous body around to cough away his own chuckles.

"Tell you all what," the arrogant Gryffindor crowed between his chortles. "Fifteen Galleons and eleven Sickles says that Squib kid won't last more than five minutes in the ring in every class!"

"That's not even worth betting on. We all know it's going to happen!"

Mocking laughter echoed off the walls, rattling in Hiccup's eardrums. The minor irritation he had felt for his cousins' usual teasing was morphing into red hot fury and he spoke before he could stop himself.

"Twenty."

It was only one word. One short, almost whispered word considering how quietly Hiccup had uttered it, but it was so unexpected, a sudden hush fell over everyone as soon as they heard it.

Snotlout stared at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"Twenty," Hiccup repeated, his fists starting to shake from how mad he was. "Twenty Galleons, ten Sickles, and twelve Knuts."

Snotlout was still puzzled. "You want me to up my bet to that? Really, if this is your way of showing me up—"

"No. Twenty Galleons, ten Sickles, and twelve Knuts that I face the Monstrous Nightmare. Not Astrid."

There was a long, shocked silence as the other four stared at him in utter disbelief. Then laughter twice as loud and obnoxious as the hilarity flooded the small compartment.

"Ha! You, Hiccup?! You?!" Tuffnut choked out between his laughs.

Ruffnut slapped her knees as she laughed herself silly. "That's a good one, Hiccup! You're a real joker!"

Fishlegs had given up any form of politeness by now and was giggling sheepishly. "Er, Hiccup…? You…? Fight…?"

Snotlout was bent over, cradling his stomach as tears poured out from his eyes. Hiccup had never seen his cousin guffawing this madly. "You, loser squib?! Fighting the dragon?! In the final exam?!" he gasped out, having to stop for a few seconds when he struggled to regain his breath. "Oh… Oh, wow! Ruff's right! That's… That's the best thing I ever heard! Ever!"

Hiccup brows furrowed, not amused. "I'm serious!"

They didn't believe him. They just keep laughing.

"Sure, you are, cousin! Sure, you are!" Snotlout says, calming down enough to talk without choking himself between his continuous snorting. "You want to throw away all that money by betting on yourself, then be my guest!" He shook his head in amusement at the infuriated look on Hiccup's face as he began absentmindedly undoing the wrapper of the Chocolate Frog. "It's easy money for all of us, after all! Just remember, you have to have pay each of us that amount, so be ready to lose it all when— Ahh!"

He had been so busy prattling on, he hadn't noticed the chocolate packaging moving about. Chocolate Frogs were delicious to eat, but before they were consumed, they were enchanted to act like real frogs. The moment Snotlout had successfully removed the wrapper from the candy, the enchantment activated. The frog hopped right from his hand and right down the front of his shirt.

Snotlout shrieked, hopping all around the cubicle like a lunatic as he clutched his clothes. Everyone started laughing at him now, even Hiccup. It was nice to see Snotlout getting what he deserved for once.

As Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs kept on laughing as Snotlout's frantic hopping around led to him accidentally slipping and falling out of the compartment to land face first on the floor of the train corridor, Hiccup swiped the candy wrapper off the ground and sat back down in his seat, yanking out the moving picture card tucked away inside the wrapper. While Snotlout continued hopping around and howling in the background, he flipped it over to see who it was he got.

Newton 'Newt' Artemis Fido Scamander

Order of Merlin, Second Class

Regarded as one of the most famous Hufflepuff's of all time and the world authority on magical creatures, Newt Scamander is a famed Magizoologist and the author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which has been an approved textbook at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry since its publication and can be found in most wizarding households.

Hiccup's mood instantly sobered when he saw the moving picture of the smiling wizard and read his bio in the description printed below. He knew this card well. He had so many copies of the damn thing that he couldn't he even trade them away anymore.

Newt flippin' Scamander. The only Hufflepuff in history other than the legendary Helga Hufflepuff to actually make a name for himself.

Two respected Hufflepuffs in the last hundred of years of wizard history.

Two in hundreds of years.

The likelihood that he would ever amount to being anything as noteworthy as them was probably non-existent.

Hiccup sighed, and tuned out the commotion the others were making. He let the collectible card slip out of his fingers and land on his lap as he gazed miserably out the window. Why couldn't he ever outrun the curse of his house?

Every other student who was boarding this train today had parents standing out there on the platform ready to wave goodbye to them with smiles on their faces as soon as the train left the station.

But not him.

No, not him. Not when his father was too ashamed to acknowledge him as his Hufflepuff of a son.

She had just moments ago boarded the train, and was now dutifully following the only family she had in the world. Her trunk, full of books, paints, brushes, and several blank sketchpads, was so heavy that she had to drag it behind her through the carpeted corridors, only stopping when her suitcase snagged onto the end of her hair.

Ah, yes. Her blonde hair. It was tightly braided together all the time whenever she had to leave her tower so as to hide the true length. When braided, it only reached the ends of her ankles, but when let loose from the hairstyle, it was over seventy feet long.

"Are there any open compartments left, Mother?" she asked, her bright green eyes searching the cubicles around them, tugging the gold strands free at the same time.

"Let's hope there are, Flower. Heaven forbid if there aren't! You know I dislike having to sit amongst—"

A sudden boyish shriek from the compartment they were passing suddenly echoed about in the corridor, and less than a second later, a muscular boy unexpectedly fell right out from it, landing right on his face with a loud 'oomph!' While the young Ravenclaw girl was taken aback by this, her mother, a tall, voluptuous woman with flawless ivory skin and ebony black curly hair, immediately shrieked.

"Ugh! What on earth—?!"

She was cut off when rambunctious laughter drifted out from the compartment the boy just fell out of, especially when said leapt back up on his feet and unexpectedly stripped his shirt off.

The girl gawked at what she was witnessing, but before she could begin voicing her confusion, she found her mother's hand slapped over her eyes.

"Snotlout Jorgensen!" she heard her mother shriek. "Just what do you think you're doing, stripping like this in front of my flower?! Have you no shame at all?! That's ten points from Gryffindor, and we're not even at school yet! Now, put your clothes back on!"

The laughter echoing out from the compartment grew in volume from her words, but her daughter had no idea what the boy did in response for several seconds because of her mother's hand covering her eyes. It was several seconds before the Gryffindor boy groaned in annoyance.

"You can't tell me what to do, you stupid Squib! You're no better than the loser back in the cabin!"

All at once, the girl felt surges of fury flood her being, and she immediately ripped her mother's hand off her eyes, much to the woman's horror.

"Rapunzel—!"

"Don't talk to my mother that way!" she snapped, temper flared, ignoring the fact that she was looking at a half-undressed male student. It wasn't that impressive, anyway. "She might not have magic, but she's worth more in this world than you will ever be!"

Rapunzel Gothel was considered many things by her Squib mother: sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, gullible… but the one thing she always stressed above all else was of how naïve she was. And in this case, her mother's opinion of that turned out to be correct, because after recovering from his momentary surprise of her challenging him, the rude Viking wizard cruelly sneered at her.

"She's a filthy Squib! And you're nothing more than her stupid kid! Even if you are a Ravenclaw!"

Rapunzel wished his words didn't hurt, but they did, and it took everything she had to not do anything other than biting her lower lip to outwardly show that what he said bothered her. She ought to be used to this by now, people in school teasing her for being the daughter of the only Squib teacher on staff, but even though she was about to start her fourth year, the insults still stung as hard as they did the first time the bullying began when she was eleven.

Then suddenly – thwack! – and the boy was sporting a red mark on his cheek. He clutched it, looking almost as if he was about to cry.

"Get out of my sight, Gryffindor scum." Her mother's voice was deadly as arsenic, pulling Rapunzel behind her as she glared down at the boy. "And that's another five points from your churlish house."

The boy scuttled quickly inside his train compartment, slamming the sliding frosted glass-pane door behind him so hard that the entire thing rattled.

"Beastly! Just beastly! And no respect whatsoever!" Gothel fumed, turning her nose up to the compartment containing all the Viking teens. "No better than savages, they are! And to think you want to go to school with people like them!"

Rapunzel sighed. Her attending Hogwarts was always a source of conflict between them. "Mother… Mother, well… I still, well… I mean, I have to—"

"Rapunzel, stop with the mumbling! You know how I feel about mumbling," Gothel interrupted as she rotated her wrist. "Blah, blah, blah, blah… it's very annoying!"

The girl shrank back a bit at this, gaze dropping to the floor.

Her mother groaned dramatically. "Oh, Darling! I'm just teasing. Stop taking everything so seriously. Now, come, come! Let's find a quiet compartment, shall we?"

"Yes, Mother."

She hurried along after Gothel down the hall while struggling with her trunk, pretending that the little tease didn't sting just as much as Snotlout Jorgensen's words had. That's what a dutiful daughter would do, after all. She loved her mother, and her mother undoubtedly loved her too. It had always been just the two of them. Mother might have been born a Squib, but there was no one Rapunzel loved more than her mother.

Well, that was not completely… accurate. There was indeed a special being that the long-haired Ravenclaw girl treasured dearly. But that had to be kept a secret! Her mother would never approve of him!

They wandered on down the narrow passageway for some time, searching relentlessly for an empty cabin, but their efforts were to no avail. They had left their tower home later than usual this time because Rapunzel had forgotten to pack the last of her paint sets the night before, and the consequences of that were being paid in full now.

"Mother? I don't think we're going to find a completely empty compartment at this point," Rapunzel said after at least five minutes of fruitless searching. "We're going to have share with it."

There was a brief pause, and then Gothel sighed in acceptance. "Sadly, you're right, Flower. I'd prefer for us to sit alone so as to keep you away from those hellions a little longer, but there most likely aren't any empty cabins left. Let's find one that's not too crowded, at least."

Rapunzel nodded, and their search resumed. It took them a few more minutes, but at last, they came across a compartment that had only one girl sitting in it.

"Here, Mother. This one looks good," Rapunzel pointed out.

Gothel's ruby lips smiled in accordance as she purposefully stepped forward, and slid open the door to the girl's compartment without bothering to knock.

The platinum blonde-haired girl jumped in her seat the moment the door opened, her head whipping up to face the curly-haired professor as she slipped inside, Rapunzel still trailing along quietly behind her.

"We'll be sharing your compartment. No empty one's left," announced Gothel, waving her hand dismissively to the platinum blonde as she planted herself in the plush seat right across from her.

As Rapunzel prepared to lift her trunk to store it in the overhead luggage rack, she caught a glimpse of the other girl's frozen face.

"Oh! Hello, Elsa! It's good to see you!" she said kindly. "How was your summer?"

The crown princess of Arendelle didn't reply right away. She just squeezed her gloved hands together rather tightly in her lap, and then nodded politely to her.

"My summer was just fine, thank you… If you'll both excuse me, Rapunzel, Professor Gothel, I'll be leaving then. I don't wish to disturb either of you."

She quickly stood up and pulled her school trunk down from the luggage rack.

"You don't have to go!" Rapunzel immediately protested. "You're more than welcome to stay!"

"No, I insist," was the emotionless objection. Turning towards the elder woman, she added, "I'm looking forward to your class, Professor Gothel. I might be Muggle-born, but I still enjoy Muggle Studies very much."

Gothel nodded back, a small smile gracing her lips. "Yes, I know. Be seeing you then, your highness."

Elsa curtsied politely, and then swept out of the carriage with her school trunk without another word.

Rapunzel couldn't help but watch her go with a sad expression. Considering how she had never been able to make friends at Hogwarts, it would have been nice if Elsa had stayed. It would be nice to have a friend. Just one. That wasn't too much to ask, right?

"Rapunzel, don't just stand there. Put away your trunk and come sit by me."

"Oh, of course, Mother."

It took the poor girl a few minutes' worth of struggling to lift her extremely heavy suitcase, but finally, she managed to summon enough strength to get the trunk safely in the overhead rack. She dropped herself in the window seat right across from Gothel, panting heavily.

"You should have realized just how heavy it was going to be by packing all your hobbies with your necessities," her mother told her without looking up from her compact mirror. She always carried one in the pocket of her cloak. "You should have listened to me last night."

"I know, Mother," Rapunzel said, subdued. "You were right. I'm sorry."

Seeing the sad expression on her daughter's face made Gothel sigh, and she leaned forward, gently stroking the top of Rapunzel's head. "I'm only trying to protect you, my Flower. You know that, right?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Good, good. You know the old saying, right? Mother knows best," Gothel said, a subtle smirk on her lips as she ran her long fingers through Rapunzel's long, blonde hair. "I love you very much, my Flower."

Rapunzel smiled, and leaned forward a bit more to fully hug her in return. "I love you more."

"I love you most."

Rapunzel's smile seemed to grow twice as big after her mother said that last bit. It was something they'd been doing since she was a child, that little 'I love you' game. Mother's tongue could be rather cutting, so it was nice to get a little assurance every now and then.

Speaking of which, now was as good a time as any to bring up a certain subject she'd been skirting around for a while now.

"So… anyways, Mother, there's something I want to talk to you—"

"Rapunzel? Mother's feeling a little run down," Gothel interjected, touching the back of her hand to her forehead. "I think I might take a nap. We can talk after the feast tonight. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, not at all." Rapunzel's hopes sunk, but she refused to let her feelings show. Instead, she forced her face to remain frozen in the happy smile she had had before. "Please rest, Mother."

Gothel smiled approvingly, before leaning her head against the window. It took her a few minutes of maneuvering about to find a comfortable position, but at last, she relaxed. Soon after, she was out like a light.

Under normal circumstances, Rapunzel would have felt rather depressed by how Gothel brushed her off, but not this time. In fact, she felt a little relieved.

Besides, she had someone else she could speak with. Her one and only true-blue friend in all the world. "Coast is clear. You can come out now."

A light chittering noise sounded throughout the compartment, and a tiny green reptilian head poked its way out from Rapunzel's pocket. The little chameleon skittered its way up the pink fabric to rest on the blonde girls' shoulder, nuzzling its scaly head against her neck.

Rapunzel giggled as she held out her hand to the chameleon so it could hop aboard. "Hey, Pascal! You weren't lonely while in my pocket all this time, were you?"

The green chameleon promptly shook his tiny head. Pascal had been her companion for as long as she could remember. Though she was awkward and clumsy, Pascal never minded. Gothel never found out about him since she wasn't fond of enchanted animal pets. Still, her friendly unofficial companion was always there for her.

"Sorry that I had to keep you in there for so long. But we can't let her see you. You know that."

The chameleon shook his head, before eyeing her pointedly.

"I know, I know… I tried to ask her," the girl defended. "You heard me…"

The little green reptile's hard gaze didn't waver.

"Oh, come on, Pascal. It's not like I planned on her taking a nap. I'm not trying to put off talking about dropping her class, honest!"

Pascal rolled his eyes at that, and Rapunzel couldn't help but sigh. She loved Pascal dearly, but her sweet little friend didn't understand how hard it was for her to argue with her mother. She didn't want Gothel to think she was an ungrateful daughter, especially since it was hard enough raising an unusually gifted magical child. But Gothel was quite overprotective. She had made it clear that the second Rapunzel graduated, they would return to their tower in Corona, where they would live out the rest of their lives, away from the world. End of story.

Well, that wasn't what Rapunzel wanted. Instead of taking her mother's Muggle Studies classes this year, she wanted to take the elective class Medi-Wizardry. Because of her unique magical abilities, taking such a course could be highly beneficial. She might even get a job in the field one day!

The problem was convincing her mother to let her switch classes.

"This year won't be like last year, Pascal," Rapunzel said suddenly, surprising the small creature with this out of the blue declaration. "I'll talk to her tonight, after the feast. I'll convince her to let me switch. Just wait and see! This year," she clenched her free hand to her heart, talking more to herself now, "—this year will be when my life finally begins!"

Elsa walked as quickly down the train corridor with her school trunk as she could, seeking out an empty compartment. She prayed that she wouldn't accidentally stumble upon Anna, lest the girl realize that she was in fact not with any 'friends,' as she had claimed earlier.

She couldn't really have friends, because having friends required her to be in their company, and being in other people's company only put them in danger. She couldn't risk it – the lives of other people, and exposing what a monster she truly was.

She had to go all the way to the end of the train to find an empty compartment. She swept into the cabin without a word, making sure to slide the door shut behind her before shoving her trunk away into the overhead rack. She settled herself down in the seat right by the window in the nick of time, too, for less than a second later, the entire train jolted forward, beginning to roll away from the station.

She could hear other students pulling down the windows of their compartments and shouting goodbye. Loved ones on the platform waved back enthusiastically, some even sobbing. Elsa didn't do this, for safety reasons, but she did catch a glimpse of Agnar and Idun in the crowd. They didn't notice her right away, being too busy waving and yelling something to Anna further down the train. They were laughing until they noticed her, and their expressions returned to kind, yet worried. Agnar immediately pointed to one of his hands and Elsa nodded to show she understood. Appeased, her father smiled gently while her mother blew her a kiss, and that was the last thing she saw before Platform 9 and 3/4 vanished from view.

With a small sigh, Elsa looked away from Muggle London whizzing past the window, and shifted her attention down to her gloved hands. Even though they were covered, they felt cold, and that always made her scared.

"Don't let them in," she whispered to herself, her hands balling up into tight fists. "Don't let them see. Be the good girl you always have to be. Conceal, don't feel… Put on a—"

Her mantra was interrupted when a loud cracking sound rumbled above her head. Startled by the sudden noise, she looked up. What she saw both shocked and terrified her.

Right above her head was a lone crack in the ceiling, one that hadn't been there when she first entered the cabin. How and why that had happened was a puzzlement to the young Slytherin girl, but it wasn't her primary concern. No, what she was focused on was the thin sheet of ice that was coated right over the ceiling crack.

Ice. How it haunted her… Tormented her at her every turn…

There was nothing Elsa wouldn't do to rid herself of her godforsaken, unexplainable ice magic.

With a thick, nervous gulp, Elsa forced herself to look away from the minor accident, squeezed her hands into two tight fists on her lap, and continued repeating her mantra. "C-Conceal it, don't feel it… Don't let anyone know…"