Afternoon in the British Wizarding World. The sun bathed Diagon Alley in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows over the cobbled streets. The air buzzed with chatter, laughter, and the occasional burst of magical sparks from street performers entertaining passing children.
Four young figures strolled leisurely through the lively scene—two men and two women. Their striking features turned more than a few heads. Passersby couldn't help but glance their way, not just for their youthful charm but for the air of power and confidence that surrounded them.
The shopkeepers' smiles said it all. Each time the group entered a store, the transaction ended with the owner personally seeing them off, beaming with delight. The weight of their purchases had clearly left behind a satisfying pile of Galleons.
Of the four, the most eye-catching was the red-haired witch. Not only for her vibrant hair and delicate features but also for the tiny creature perched on her shoulder—a miniature fire dragon, dazzlingly white, with shimmering scales that glinted like crystals in the afternoon sun. The little dragon flapped its wings from time to time, soaring briefly above her head before settling back down.
The creature's name was Snow, Wanda's loyal companion. A powerful Ukrainian Ironbelly, magically shrunken to a pocket-sized form. Should danger arise, Wanda could dispel the shrinking charm in an instant, unleashing Snow's full, terrifying form.
As the group passed a window display showcasing enchanted brooms, Wanda turned to her closest friend, Vera, her voice brimming with curiosity.
"Vera, what about Hogwarts? Should we visit?" Wanda asked eagerly. "I heard their Forbidden Forest is crawling with magical creatures—centaurs too!"
Vera, tall and poised, with raven-black hair and sharp sapphire eyes, replied without hesitation. "Hogwarts? Forget it." She shook her head. "You're not getting in without a rock-solid reason. It's their top rule—no outsiders allowed."
Wanda's face fell. "Seriously?"
Vera nodded. "They're strict, especially since so many young wizards are studying there. As for the Forbidden Forest… yes, it's full of magical creatures. Centaurs, thestrals, acromantulas—you name it. But setting foot in there without permission?" She gave Wanda a pointed look. "Either you sneak in or force your way through. And unless you want the Hogwarts professors on your back, I don't recommend it."
Wanda's shoulders slumped. She had been hoping for something exciting.
They had come to the British wizarding world under a formal pretense: Researching dragon ecosystems for Kamar Taj. Ian's carefully worded proposal, paired with all four of their signatures, had earned them a rare clearance from Peggy Carter, though not without conditions.
"Produce results," Carter had said firmly, "and stay out of trouble. You represent Kamar Taj. If you cause problems, you'll answer to me."
It wasn't just about rules. Lockhart's actions—sneaking into the dream world and stealing its origin—meant that a stable, low-profile environment was crucial. Wanda, Ian, Vera, and Remy understood this well. Their bond with Kamar Taj wasn't just as students—they were entrusted with its secrets. They knew where the line was.
Wanda might be adventurous, but she wasn't reckless. Forcing their way into Hogwarts over curiosity? Not worth it.
With Hogwarts off the table, Wanda's eyes sparkled with a new idea.
"Vera," she said, brightening, "how about France?" She grinned playfully. "Didn't you say your father's a famous alchemist? We could visit his place! I'd love to see his workshop."
Vera's face stiffened slightly. Her lips parted as if to reply, but no words came. A flicker of hesitation passed through her eyes before she fell silent.
Before Wanda could press her, another voice, laced with dry sarcasm, cut through the air.
"Wanda," said Remy, tall and sharp-eyed, his tone dripping with exasperation, "are you seriously not paying attention to world news?"
Wanda blinked, puzzled. "What?"
Remy gave her a long, unimpressed stare. "You do know that Voldemort has conquered France, right?"
The cheerful expression slipped from Wanda's face. "Oh…" she mumbled, flushing with embarrassment.
Remy folded his arms. "Yeah. So unless your idea of a vacation is being tortured by Death Eaters, maybe skip France."
Wanda gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "Oops. Guess I wasn't paying attention…"
Remy sighed. "Clearly."
Wanda, determined to escape her blunder, quickly changed the subject. "Vera," she said, "how are your parents doing?"
Vera's tense expression softened. "They're in Egypt," she replied. "The Alchemy Association invited them for a research project. Something to do with ancient magical inscriptions."
At the mention of Egypt, Wanda's eyes lit up with fresh excitement. "Egypt? With pyramids and everything? That sounds amazing!" Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm. "How about we go to Egypt too? I've always wanted to see the pyramids!"
Before anyone could answer, a soft flutter of wings brushed against her cheek.
Flap! Flap!
It was Snow, his little eyes narrowed, his body hovering just inches from her face. Through their soul bond, Wanda felt his displeasure—gentle but unmistakable.
The message was clear.
Egypt? What about my home?
Snow's home was nowhere near Egypt. His birthplace was the wild, shadowed expanse of the Black Forest of Albania, thousands of miles away.
Wanda chuckled softly, brushing her fingers against the tiny dragon's wings. "I know, I know," she teased, her voice light, "I promised we'd visit your hometown…"
But truthfully? She wasn't in a hurry. The trip was supposed to be about fun. There was plenty of time for Snow's home—later.
Remy, however, was less amused. "Egypt?" he echoed with a raised brow. "Seriously? And what exactly would you tell Teacher Carter?" His voice carried a familiar edge of sarcasm.
Wanda glanced sideways, "Well… we could say we're… studying how dragons adapt to desert climates?"
Remy shot her a look so dry it could've withered a cactus. "Yeah. Because fire-breathing dragons are totally native to the Sahara," he deadpanned.
Wanda pouted. "Hey, it was just an idea…"
Vera smirked, amused at their banter. "I'd love to hear Miss Carter's reaction to that one," she added with a chuckle.
"Something along the lines of: 'Are you idiots?'" Remy muttered.
Wanda waved a hand. "Fine, fine, no Egypt." She sighed. "So, where do we go?"
She didn't want to plunge straight into the forests or the research. Not yet. She wanted to enjoy their journey—eat, drink, play, then adventure. That was the perfect order.
Ian, who had been quietly watching the sky, finally spoke. "What about Hogsmeade?" he suggested.
Wanda perked up. "Hogsmeade?"
Ian nodded, his voice calm and thoughtful. "It's right next to Hogwarts. Bustling place. Lots of shops, interesting things to see. Little wizards love it." He paused briefly, a small grin tugging at his lips. "And if we get tired, we can stop at the Hog's Head Inn. I used to work there."
Wanda's eyes brightened with interest. "You worked at the Hog's Head?"
Ian chuckled lightly. "Long story. But I know the owner. Good guy. And it's a nice place to rest and plan our next move."
Wanda turned to the others. "So, Hogsmeade?"
Vera nodded. "I'm in."
Remy shrugged. "Sounds better than getting killed in France or roasted in Egypt."
Wanda clapped her hands together, "Hogsmeade it is, then!"
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through a wooden tunnel, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and moss. Faint torchlight flickered against aged stone walls.
"Harry—Harry, slow down!" called a breathless voice behind him.
Harry Potter's steps halted. His green eyes, colder than they once were, flicked back over his shoulder. Hermione Granger was trotting to catch up, her breath slightly uneven, her face lined with worry.
She met his gaze, and her heart clenched.
The warmth she had always seen in those green eyes was fading, replaced by something distant and sharp.
Professor McGonagall had warned her—Harry's being affected by dark magic. His mood, his emotions… they'll change.
But knowing didn't mean accepting. This wasn't the Harry she knew.
A few seconds later, another voice, rough and familiar, rang out.
"Oi, Harry! Wait up!"
Ron Weasley, red-faced from running, jogged up to join them. His eyes flicked between Harry and Hermione, confusion clear on his face.
Harry's voice was cold. "Let's go. Hogsmeade is ahead."
He turned forward again, adding curtly, "I need to buy some potion ingredients. If you want to explore, do it on your own."
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Marvel : The God Of Punishment System
I Am Raditz
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