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Elemental	By : AngelaBlythe Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 3286 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
ELEMENTAL

~by The Labris~

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Flint for a Fire

Flint for a Fire,
Part I

They had given her a black robe to wear, nothing fancy. But somehow,
looking at her form in the mirror, Ginny felt very naked. She knew where she
was going; she was going to see Voldemort. Riddle�she hissed in her
mind. She wouldn�t even do him the favor of calling him Lord Voldemort. He
would always be Riddle to her. Tom Marvolo Riddle, a pathetic and twisted
sixteen-year-old boy with a fascination with death and blood.

She stood straighter, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and
waiting for someone to come and fetch her. The bathroom she was in was
antiquated and had a large bath. The mirror she stood in front of was
monstrous, but Ginny couldn�t think of anything but how she was going to get
out of this. It seemed as though nothing and no one could save her now. She was
in the heart of the enemy, literally and figuratively.

That made her shiver � she knew what was expected of her. She knew what
plans the Dark Lord had for her. He was sick, distorted, and wrong. Ginny
thought she would pass out at the thought of having to touch him, much
less�well, become physical. She became ill at the thought of touching anyone
but Draco in that way.

Ginny stopped herself. Draco wouldn�t touch her anymore. He was�he was
supposed to be dead to her. He wasn�t though. He was alive and burning
into her soul. There was nothing she could do about it either. Every part of
her wanted to reach out to him. Her mind told her heart, �No!� It was clear she
had been betrayed. After all the trust she had�she had placed more trust in him
than her whole family. She vouched for him in front of Blaise, Colin, and Dean.
She protected his memory, never letting people speak badly of him. She�d loved
him. But she�d assumed he loved her back, and that was where everything went
terribly wrong.

She heard a knocking on the door, and she jumped slightly, her hand
instinctively going to where she kept her wand. She cringed when she realized
she didn�t have it. But the defensive team living in her head reminded her that
she had one last line of protection. Her Elemental powers had grown strong over
the months. Strong enough to defeat Riddle? No, probably not. But maybe enough
to escape.

Before she could think more on this, the person entered, and she thought
she recognized him. He was tall and, truth be told, ugly. Ginny wasn�t into
judging people by appearances, but this was one ugly man. His face was
familiar, though, almost�and then she realized who it was. The teeth were a
dead giveaway.

�Flint�� she said under her breath. He didn�t seem to notice though and
just scowled at her.

�Weasley,� he practically barked. �You are required in the throne room
immediately.�

She stiffened, bringing her shoulders back painfully and following him
out the door. She would not be afraid� On second thought, she probably would;
she just wouldn�t show it. She followed him dutifully, trying to put on a mask
of professionalism and coldness, but knowing she probably just looked angry. Angry
was all right.

A bright, clinking sound � Ginny looked around to see what it was and
saw a bright, golden-red coin on the floor. Flint had stopped dead a few feet
in front of her. He wasn�t turning. So Ginny knelt down and picked up the
object, turning it over in her fingers.

She knew that medallion. Draco wore one just like it. Red-gold, with the
crest of Gryffindor on it. She�d asked him about it�

The Trouble with
Memories, Part III

Ginny lay on her back, eyes closed and legs crossed, left over right.
Draco was kneeling at the end of his bed, half-naked and pale against his deep
green covers and linens. Her foot was on his chest, and a smile was on his
face. His long fingers ran over Ginny�s foot, occasionally eliciting giggles
and deep moans.

It was the best foot massage she had ever received. She sighed again as
Draco kissed the arch of her foot, his fingers skimming over her calves and
ankles. The chain he wore around his neck slipped, and two coins fell on his
chest, one hitting Ginny�s foot.

She looked at Draco, who smiled, flipping the necklace behind his neck
again, the coins out of sight.

�Those are pretty,� Ginny said lightly, leaning forward and reaching for
his necklace. He let her, smiling a bit devilishly.

�They�re annoying,� he said, reaching for her hands and kissing
them passionately, tongue flickering over her knuckles. �You�re pretty.�

Ginny blushed as he leaned over her, causing her to fall on her back
again as he straddled her legs. �Where�d you get them?�

He shrugged. �Dumbledore.�

�Head Boy stuff?� she asked innocently.

Draco just kissed her neck, nipping lightly and then licking the spot to
cool the hurt. Ginny hissed with pleasure, all thoughts of coins gone. She
never saw them again.

Flint for a Fire,
Part II

When her time in memories passed, she looked up to see Flint standing in
front of her, his face impassive, a giant hand extended. Ginny met his eyes and
found nothing of a hint in them. She looked at the coin again and then back in
his eyes. Ginny noticed they were green, a very deep blue-green color. But she
could sense something anxious about him.

�Is this yours?� Ginny asked quietly, almost hopefully.

The coin meant one of two things. It could mean he was a Death Eater, as
she thought Draco might be, and that was why he had the coin. But it could mean
he was loyal to the cause, as she used to think Draco was. Draco had told her
he got the medallion from Dumbledore, and it did have Godric�s own crest on it.
Was it a sign that he was loyal to Dumbledore? Ginny also remembered that Draco
had betrayed her and he wore one of these medallions. And yet it gave her hope
that he was on her side. Why would someone loyal to Riddle wear anything with
Godric�s crest on it? Wasn�t it sacrilegious or something? Wasn�t Godric the
antithesis of Riddle? Either way, she had much on which to think.

�Yes,� he replied in a stony voice, but there was some underlying
message Ginny didn�t understand. She wished she were better at this game.

She licked her lips quickly and placed the golden-red coin in Flint�s
outstretched hand. �Sorry.� He held it out for another moment, looking at her,
not the medallion, and then stuffed it quickly in his pocket.

�Follow me,� he said without another look her way.

So she did, keeping pace through the spiraling levels of stairs and long
hallways. Just how far from Riddle was she? But soon she found herself outside
two huge doors, and Flint was pushing them open, creaking and all.

As she walked in, she noticed three things. One, she was by no means
alone with Riddle. There were several others in the room, seemingly just
waiting around. She recognized Peter Pettigrew from pictures Sirius Black had
shown her in her fourth year. She already knew Lucius Malfoy more than she ever
wanted. There were three large men in the corner, near the feet of the Dark
Lord as well.

Two, Ginny noticed was that the hall was unmistakably ugly. It was large
and dull, graying, with no light and no decorations, just stony, gray-black
bricks. The wide windows only let in the image of a cloudy sky, no trace of the
sun or time of day.

Third was what her eyes last rested on, placed in the center of the
room, sitting upon a high, graying dais, and had bright, gleaming, red eyes.
The familiar, stunted nose and impeccable posture were the only things remaining
of what had been a handsome sixteen-year-old wizard. The rest of his features
were stretched and thin, especially his eyes and hands. Riddle�s hands reminded
Ginny of spiders, creeping and crawling maliciously. He seemed to smile at her
when she stepped into the hall, a cold smile of freakish delight, not the warm
one a guest would expect from a host.

Flint led her to the foot of the dais, leaving her alone in front of the
Dark Lord and moving to the side of the dark, murky room. Ginny did her best to
school the fear she felt out of her features, tried to mask her feelings. It
did no good, but at least her knees weren�t shaking and her body stayed still
as a statue. She brought her chin up a bit defiantly at Riddle, as though
daring him to make her bow. He only smiled.

�It has been a while, hasn�t it, Little Ginny?� he asked in a cold,
smooth voice, using his pet name for her. It was higher than Riddle�s, more
effeminate, but Ginny could recognize the similarities from the way he talked
and looked when he spoke.

The Source of
Samson�s Powers, Part II�

�Riddle,� she said with an incline of her head, jutting her chin out a
little more and straightening her posture, something she remembered she always
did around him. It made her feel better, as if it showed him she wasn�t even
close to being beaten. �A delightfully long while.�

He smirked at this, a sick smile pulling at his thin, white lips. �Yes,�
he murmured. �Too long. But,� he said, his tone moving into a different level,
�now you are here, and I must say, you are looking very beautiful, perhaps not
the Little Ginny I left.�

Ginny stiffened. Her face faltered, and she looked down for a moment,
trying to regain her composure and make the redness on her face die. She hated
him. He always did this to her! Well, she wasn�t going to fall for it! Not this
time!

�Funny,� Ginny said, tilting her head at a dangerously rebellious angle,
�you�ve looked better, Riddle.�

He merely smiled at her, raising a hand to his cheek and running it
along his jaw. �Yes, finding a decent body has been a chore, especially after
the first two were destroyed. This one is already wounded, but no matter, it
shall be taken care of soon.�

She swallowed, getting the sinking impression that the last statement
had to do with Harry and his fantastically annoying ability to face danger and
not get caught. Ginny had a feeling he might not survive this time. She took a
few more shallow breaths and asked the question to which she already knew the
horrifying answer.

�What do you want with me, Riddle? I�m not that valuable, not to your
cause, not truly to Dumbledore�s. Just let me go; I have enough problems
without you spoiling my life again.�

�You know the answer to that, Little Ginny,� he answered smoothly.

Damn it! He saw through her bluff. She had hoped to catch him a bit off
guard or at least to buy some time for her to make a plan. He just curled a
pale hand around his chin and looked at her, blood-red eyes practically
glowing.

�Your aura of power betrays you,� he purred at her. He beckoned with a
long-fingered hand. �Come.�

�No,� Ginny bit out defiantly. Her feet already wanted to move though,
and she knew he was using Imperius on her. She hadn�t even seen him use his
wand. Maybe it had been on her for a while, and that was why. Or maybe, her
subconscious reminded her, you want to go to him. Maybe he still has a hold
on you. Maybe you want to be commanded by him.

�No�� she hissed, her jaw clenching. She swayed dangerously toward the
man made of midnight, oblivious to his silent probing of her mind and emotions.
Ginny felt her feet move, almost as if on autopilot, toward her old enemy. She
didn�t want it, but she was doing it anyway, as if driven by something older
and more powerful than herself. Riddle sensed her unwillingness and laughed at
her as she walked one wobbly step at a time toward him.

Ginny stopped a short half-meter from the Dark Lord, his command
completed successfully. She swallowed hard, trying not to breathe so heavily;
her eyes flitted around her, not wanting to rest on anyone, especially not him.

�Kneel,� he said softly. His eyes connected with hers, and Ginny found
she couldn�t separate them. She didn�t want to; she wouldn�t submit to him, not
again. Not ever again. She stood defiantly, even making her chin tip
dangerously upwards.

�Never,� she whispered to him, her voice shaky, but stable.

�I don�t wish to kill you, Little Ginny,� he said in his soft,
effeminate voice, the one that sent tiny shivers down Ginny�s back and made her
want to run. It was dangerous for her to rebel. All bowed before the Dark Lord.

All but Ginny.

�Funny,� Ginny said in a low voice. �I wish to kill you.�

She watched his face change from a hard expression to an enraged,
hellish vision. But Ginny had been prepared for this. She gathered what power
she thought she could spare in her weakened state and formed a large blast of
fire to send to Voldemort. She leapt off the dais, propelling her body with the
help of the wind. She released the burning ball of Elemental fire directly at
Voldemort, forcing it along harder and faster with the help of ribbons of wind,
entwining with the fire.

It happened fast, and when she landed on the ground, she dashed out the
door, pushing it open with the power of her wind and sprinting out the hall.
She could only hear the sound of screaming; pain and agony rippling down the
hall through which she ran. She turned and turned and ran and ran and sprinted
and turned and climbed and ran and climbed and climbed and climbed.

Soon, she heard nothing behind her and slowed a bit, dashing to a large
window and looking out; her breath caught when she saw what she did. She was
high upon the battlements, the wind whipping around the tower in which she
stood. It was a frosty white outside, the snow drowning the dark stone, making
the already bleak castle almost unbearably plain and haunting.

That was when Ginny heard voices; they were soft, but they were growing
louder. She looked around her and saw a few doors. Trying each in turn and
finding none of them worked, she frantically waited the approaching voices. She
could hear them; soon they would be upon her. After that�after that there was
only down. She wouldn�t be taken.

Especially not alive. She had no real reason to live anyway; her body
was tired from the running and the amount of power she�d taken from her poor
body. She was weary from whatever spell Malfoy, Sr. had hit her with, and she
was angry from whatever charm Draco Malfoy had put on her to make her love him.
She didn�t want to deal with it anymore. She only had a small amount of spare
energy left, and she sure as hell wasn�t going to let Riddle manipulate it to
his uses.

She backed toward the window, readying herself to open it and jump if
need be. She couldn�t protect herself; that much was clear; she didn�t even
have a wand.

And then they were there, standing down the hall from her. Lucius Malfoy
was in the front, his dark wand drawn and ready. He stalked, quiet as a cat, as
the two behind him, large men, stomped. There was a frown of concentration on
his face, an almost predatory gleam in his eye. Ginny�s nerve to jump steeled.

�Miss Weasley,� he said calmly, �come back away from there. This can all
be solved quite easily; just come to us.�

Ginny shook her head, her hands shaking in front of her as she raised
them to the three men in front of her. �I won�t.� She said it clearly then
focused desperately on the Elemental powers around her, calling on them for
help.

The snowy wind broke through the window, flying about the hallway and
temporarily blinding her opponents. She backed to the window, then turned and
jumped, putting her faith in the wind as she flew downwards to the snowy
ground. She fell and fell and fell until she thought she would only fall for
the rest of her life, dying on the currents of the winter night.

Her landing wasn�t particularly soft, but the combination of wind and
snow did break her fall somewhat. She lay on the ground for a time, looking up
at the falling snow and barely even noticing the cold that enveloped her body.
It was a swirling whiteness, threatening to be overcome by blackness. Knowing
she wouldn�t be able to stay there long, she forced up her tired body, sitting
and breathing fitfully. Her robes were now wet. Swallowing, she looked toward
the castle in the distance and cringed. It gave her a sick feeling in her gut,
making her want to pass out again.

Shaking it off, she stood and leaned against a tall tree for support.
She didn�t exactly know where she was, but she could tell it was late evening,
maybe close to night. She needed to find cover if she hoped to live through the
night. There were thick trees everywhere, most tall and haunting over her. She
shivered, crossing her arms over her chest, and thanked whoever was listening
that her robes were long-sleeved. Looking into the dark forest and frowning, she
made her way to what looked like a thick patch of bushes and shorter trees.

She could see it wouldn�t give her any sort of protection, so she kept
walking; the only thing driving her was the knowledge that if she were caught,
she would most likely die anyway. She would much rather die in rebellion
against Riddle than at his hand. A deep breath while she leaned on a tree and
she was off again, ignoring the pain in her chest and legs.

Drained and weary, hours after leaving Mordred�s castle, Ginny came upon
a frozen lake stretching a mile across in either direction. She realized it was
just a large bay, and it struck her that she only knew one bay that large, but
the fact that it even existed shook her imagination. It had to be Avalon, the
forsaken magical fortress of old. Only a few dared enter there, and Ginny sure
as hell wasn�t one of them. She looked across the bay, seeing an old mission,
which just confirmed her suspicions.

Trudging on into the snow, she watched her breath crystallize in front
of her, smoky fog clouding her eyes. It was quiet, and the hidden sun was
setting; Ginny could tell because it was getting darker and fast. She rubbed
her arms quickly, moving faster toward anything that looked as though it might
provide shelter.

She found nothing but kept walking. She walked and walked, almost in
autopilot as she watched unfamiliar scenery pass by her. It was dark now, and
she�d been walking for ages. The cold was beginning to seep through to the very
marrow of her bones, causing a shudder of shivers to wrack her body.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, Ginny leaned against a tall, craggy
cliff and wrapped her arms around her. Nothing was going to save her. No one
was going to come after her. She was alone and tired, and she probably wouldn�t
last the night. She couldn�t even rely on her Elemental powers because she�d
exhausted them so.

Finding no other option, Ginny took one last look at the stars,
shivering at the brief wind, and closed her eyes. She accepted the dreams that
came with morbid curiosity. They stank of death.

Storm Warnings

Percy�s ears perked. It wasn�t often he listened to the WWN, but in the
situation he was, with the lack of entertainment, he was forced to do something
when his eyes grew tired of reading. He listened to the message once. Then
listened to it play again. His jaw dropped, and his eyes bugged out, but that
didn�t stop him from sprinting full speed to the headmaster�s office.

�HEADMASTER DUMBLEDORE!!!� he roared outside the door.
�HEADMASTER!!!�

The griffin allowed him entrance, and he dashed up the steps until he
was breathless inside the headmaster�s office. Without a word, he slammed the
Wizard�s Wireless on the headmaster�s desk and watched Dumbledore�s expression
go from genial to solemn.

�Warning! I repeat, warning! There has been a Meeting warning off the
coast ��

�Headmaster! You know what this means, don�t you?�

�Hush, Mr. Weasley!�

�� residents of the area are urged to leave immediately! Repeat, there
has been a Meeting reported to occur in less than a half an hour. Reports say
it is a natural phenomenon, yet highly dangerous. It is speculated that this
will be the biggest Meeting in the past three thousand years. Elements involved
are Wind and Fire. I repeat, Wind and Fire.

�Warning! I repeat, warning! There has been a Meeting ��

The message was about to repeat again when the headmaster turned off the
wireless. Percy had never seen Dumbledore look so tired before. Indeed, he had
never seen the headmaster look anything but youthful and vigorous. �Percy, I
need you to bring Minerva, Severus, Alastor, and Dorothea to me. They should be
in the teachers� lounge. Miss Mariner will be with them. Have Minerva lead you
all to the conference rooms; tell her room twenty-one. Be quick.�

As he was saying this, he slowly put on an outer coat, gathered a few
items off his desk and put a bit of phoenix ash in his pocket. �Can you do this
for me, Percy?�

�Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore,� Percy answered, dashing out of the room.

A Plan Made
Victorious

When Percy reported to McGonagall what the headmaster had told him, she
looked rather surprised but did a good job hiding it. Moody looked at Percy
with a speculative eye but grunted and began talking in Russian to a woman
Percy didn�t know; Dorothea had to be her name. She was looking rather
disagreeable at the moment and didn�t care much to be moved, but she went
anyway. Marissa flashed Percy a short smile before rising and following
directly behind McGonagall. Percy watched as the two whispered the whole way
down through the dungeons.

Upon reaching the coldest part of the dungeon to which Percy had ever
been, Professor McGonagall lit her wand, and they continued down a dark set of
stairs. They went down and down and down, until they reached another hallway.
There were twelve doors in the hallway, but they went through the third on the
left.

When they entered, they saw Dumbledore was already inside, along with
several other men and women. Fred and George, Percy�s brothers, gave him a warm
welcome (consisting of several too-hard slaps on the back and jabs in the
stomach). Among the others were Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin, Rubeus
Hagrid, a stout, blonde woman, and a few women conversing quietly in a corner.
The woman Percy suspected was Dorothea moved to them immediately, and they greeted
her with quiet enthusiasm.

�Order members, professors, Coven Witches, Aurors,� Dumbledore said,
nodding at everyone in turn. �Please, sit.� Chairs pulled themselves out of the
table, and they sat; Marissa took Percy�s left, and the twins were to his right.
The group of women, McGonagall included, sat at the end of the table, Percy�s
far left, and opposite everyone else. Dumbledore placed himself at the head of
the table, sitting in a large seat, with Snape, Alastor and Hagrid lined up
near him. �As I�m sure Mr. Percy Weasley has told you, we have found ourselves
in a bit of a situation.�

�What�s this about young Ginevra Weasley being in a Second Meeting?� an
aging but still beautiful witch said from the end of the table.

�And how was she captured in the first place, Dumbledore?� another said.

�I thought you said she would have complete protection here,� a third
added.

�Quiet, hags! Dumbledore has important things to say, so shut your
traps!� Madam Bones appeared to be peeved for some reason or other, and her
blonde curls bounced dangerously.

�Now, Abigail,� a pretty, younger witch said with a silky, cutting
voice. �That wasn�t very nice. You shouldn�t be bitter still, after all that. I
mean you did get on the Ministry�s little council thing.�

�Quit it, Victoria,� McGonagall said in a low voice, putting a hand on
the young witch�s arm. �I wouldn�t goad her if I were you.�

The young witch, Victoria, looked like she was pouting, but she smiled a
secret, little smile at Abigail Bones. ��S not my fault she�s not in the
Coven.�

�Silencio!� The spell came from Dorothea, who looked back at the
headmaster intently. �The younger generations are so impetuous. Please,
continue, Albus.�

Marissa leaned over to Percy, whispering in his ear, �The Witches� Coven
deals with their disobedient differently, Perce-luv. I�m just glad I�m in favor
with McGonagall and Polinen; otherwise, I�d be treated the same. Vic�s a
half-Elemental, so that�s why she�s here. She�s not nearly as powerful as your
sister, though.�

Percy nodded, then listened to what Dumbledore had to say. �Thank you,
Dorothea,� he said with an incline of his head. �I�m sure we�ll have no more
interruptions.� A flicker of amusement was in his eyes when he looked toward
the muted witch. �As to your questions�well, the people who know more about
that than I are Miss Marissa Mariner and Miss Dorothea Polinen. Marissa, would
you?�

She nodded, blue eyes sharp, flickering from person to person,
assessing, grading, and dismissing. Percy had seen her do it several times
before. �I�ve gathered much information from a source I can�t share, and it
amounts to this: Miss Weasley was captured by Lucius Malfoy less than
forty-eight hours ago. She was in good condition upon departure; however, under
the impression my source had tricked her to secure her capture. This is
impossible.

�My second source, whom I must protect, says there was an escape six
hours ago from the location Miss Weasley was being held, in part because of
him. He ensured me her escape was successful, and, as of an hour ago, she is
still unfound. She was in bad condition upon escape, as she had to jump off a
high tower. As of an hour ago, she is not within nine miles of the castle in
question.�

Marissa sat next to Percy again, grabbing his hand, giving it a squeeze,
and sending a smile his way before turning her attention to Dorothea Polinen.
The woman was clearly old; her hair gave her away. But she was very beautiful
still, in a dark way. �I was Ginevra�s instructor in the Dreamweaving arts. I
qualify her at Ebony Dreamweaver High Priestess in front of you witnesses and
the High Prefect Coven Witch, Matilda Law. Is this refuted?�

�No, Coven Witch Polinen,� the oldest woman from the group said. She
nodded her wizened head and continued. �Your claim of Miss Ginevra Weasley, daughter
of Molly Prewett, granddaughter of Eva Jones, great-granddaughter of Isolde
Mann, as Ebony Dreamweaver High Priestess is accepted, documented, and honored.
Please continue.�

The dark, green-eyed woman continued. �As Ginevra�s teacher, I feel I
must inform you of my complete and utter confidence in her abilities. If she
escaped, she is alive and keeping herself alive in the only way she knows how.
Esteemed Coven Witch, Ruby Dreamweaver Queen Molly Prewett has been feebly
contacted by her daughter, and, though she is not able to leave her post, she
sends word that her daughter is alive and more or less well.�

�Madam Polinen,� Dumbledore said quietly, searching the woman with his
gaze, �how would you evaluate her powers? Dreamweaving and otherwise.�

�Her Dreamweaving�is genius. She has the most talent I�ve ever seen.
She�s creative, yet a perfectionist. She�s powerful, yet hesitant not to go
overboard. She�s knowledgeable, not because I�ve taught her much, but because
she innately knows so much. I contribute most of her receptiveness to Coven
Witch Molly Prewett, for she has kept the child�s dreams free-flowing and
protected. She did well by the girl.

�As for Ginevra�s Elemental abilities�I cannot judge. I saw her perform
menial tasks at times. She put a fire out or lit one in the hearth when it was
cold. At times, when she was tired or upset, there would be a draft, or the
fire would well up suddenly. She doesn�t seem to notice, but it is always very
brief. She is a very special girl. I don�t feel as though I can judge her
powers, for I myself am not an Elemental or of Elemental blood. Perhaps
Minerva��

Percy listened with interest to the conversations. He had noticed those
of the Coven seemed very respectful of his mother, calling her �Esteemed� and
reciting her maternal lineage from memory. He also noted they always referred
to her with her maiden name � Prewett � which surprised and confused him.

Dumbledore thanked her, and Madam Polenin took her seat. His former
professor, Minerva McGonagall, stood from the middle of the group of Coven
members, bowing her head to the oldest woman, whom Percy had discovered was the
High Prefect of the Witches� Coven. �If you are of pure Elemental blood,� she
said, a slight jab to the younger, muted witch, �then you will soon come to
realize your powers are too much for you alone to control, and you often must
go on a sort of quest.

�My personal quest brought me guidance from a Fire Spirit residing in
Wales; however, I never saw Miss Weasley search for any form of guidance,
Elemental or otherwise. But in the course of my teaching at this school, it has
been my job to help along any Elemental descendants, students such as the Patil
twins, Draco Malfoy, and Ginevra Weasley. I have worked extensively with the
Patil twins, who, although only quarter Water Elementals, show dedication and
promise. Mr. Malfoy is untrained; though I suspect he is very receptive to it,
as his�ahem�affections�for Miss Weasley are apparent.

�Ginevra Weasley is rather unique, for though she seems to be utterly
oblivious of her effect on people with her Elemental power, she shows no need
to be trained. She has always kept close rein on it, which I contribute to her
training and mental discipline in the Dreamweaving art. She has, however,
whether she realizes it or not, great impact on Elementally gifted.

�Her power is so great it secretes and radiates from her, and even in
the presence of non-Elementals, her aura is noticeable. Her impact on
Elementals is slightly different. While she repels the Patil twins almost
violently, Wind and Fire Elementals are innately drawn to her. My training and
restraint keep my powers from reacting to hers, but young Malfoy is untrained �
he finds himself drawn to her for reasons he can�t comprehend. And I feel his
Elemental powers have increased since he began spending time with her.�

Percy listened, enthralled, as his teacher spoke of his younger sister.
Fred and George were in an equally amazed state, he noticed, and he shook his
head in disbelief. His Ginny? His little, redheaded, brow-eyed sprite of a
sister? It couldn�t be! She was so young! All these people knew of powers he�d
never understood before. Elementals? Sure, some people knew � if you were
learned like Percy. But Dreamweavers? Percy�s own mother was one, and he�d
never known until a few weeks ago.

Though, as Percy began to think about it, it did all make sense. Percy
only remembered having a few bad dreams in his life. Actually, he wasn�t sure
if he could count them on his hand. And the one he did remember ended with his
mother holding him in her arms and kissing his fears away. He never remembered
Bill or Charlie, or Fred or George having nightmares. One, two � five between
the four of them, maybe! And Ron had that spider thing, but never dreams about
it.

Ginny though�Ginny had been different. Percy could remember a
conversation � one between his mother and father he was pretty sure he wasn�t
supposed to hear � that involved his mother�s worry about Ginny�s endless bad
dreams. That was even before the diary incident. The dreams were much worse
after that.

Slowly, Percy was able to join in the conversation, which had gone on
without him.

�What have your sources told you about Duncan Welsh, Marissa?� Moody was
saying in a rumbling, low voice.

Marissa cleared her throat next to Percy and spoke. �I am the source in
the case of Duncan Welsh,� she said disgustedly. �And though I�m loath to admit
it, he has nothing to do with Miss Weasley. Don�t get me wrong; he would
absolutely love to, but he�s not that close with You-Know-Who.�

�Marissa�� Moody said warningly.

Percy watched as she sighed, straightened herself, and dutifully
replied, �Fear of the name merely increases fear of the thing. I will think of
him as evil and call him Voldemort.�

�That�s m�girl,� Moody said approvingly, nodding.

�Wait, wait,� George said from Percy�s right. It was the first time
either of the twins had spoken.

�Yes, go back to the part with Welsh,� Fred added. �What�s he want with
Gin?�

Marissa shifted uncomfortably, and Percy found he himself was interested
in the answer. He knew what�Voldemort�wanted with Ginny. But what did this
Welsh fellow want with her? Percy watched patiently as Dumbledore hung his
head, looking tiredly down the table.

�The thing you must all understand,� he began, �is that Mr. Welsh is a
scientist above all things. He is weak when it comes to learning; he always
desires more knowledge. He is a brilliant man but easily seduced by the promise
of infinite wisdom, a bargaining tool of Lord Voldemort.

�You all know,� he continued, gazing intently at his audience, �what
Lord Voldemort would do with Miss Weasley if he had his way.� Percy felt Fred
and George shiver along with him at the thought. �But Duncan Welsh has a
slightly different aim. He has fashioned himself in love with Miss Weasley, a
sort of doctor-patient love. He has revealed the wish to perform experiments on
her, how the combination of her Elemental powers and Dreamweaving abilities
affect her magic. He has even expressed interest in the rest of the Weasley
brood because of your early and constant Showings.

�I fear it would be almost more dangerous for Duncan Welsh to have your
sister than Voldemort,� the headmaster revealed to Percy and his brothers.

Percy was aghast at the thought of his sister as a love interest of a
man old enough to be her father and who wanted to perform experiments on her.
He was aghast at the thought of her carrying Voldemort�s child. He was aghast
at the thought of her even being associated with Malfoy the way in which
McGonagall alluded. Everything was so wrong. She was just sweet, little
Ginny�nothing bad was supposed to happen to her.

�How can we�save her?� Percy asked in a croaking voice. He fixed himself
with a stony expression and looked at Dumbledore.

Sighing, Dumbledore replied, �That will be a problem, Mr. Weasley, a
real problem.� Gesturing to the Coven Witches on the opposite side of the
table, he said, �That is why I invited you, Esteemed Coven Witches. I need you
to collect all the Elementals in your ranks and all those you have on file.
Your records are much more detailed than some of Hogwarts even. We need all the
Water and Earth Elementals you have, for I propose we break the Fire and Wind
Meeting as soon as we can.�

At this point, there was a loud banging on the table, and the young,
outspoken witch tried to speak, but no words came from her mouth. She pointed
at her lips, looking angrily at Madam Polenin and pounding on the table again.

Madam Polenin chuckled and fingered her wand. �Ah, and now we come to
the reason why this young whelp is even at our esteemed table.� She smiled
wickedly at the fine-boned, blue-eyed woman and continued. �May I introduce to
you the Elemental philosopher of our generation, Coven Witch Victoria Bowman.
Her common sense notwithstanding, she is an excellent theorist and was invited
here for just this reason. Finite Incantatum!�

Bowman sighed dramatically, massaging her throat in a negligent manner.
�Thank you, Madam Polenin. I shall learn my place better.� She gave a brief nod
in the direction of McGonagall and Madam Bones, both of whom looked decidedly
nonplussed. �As to your, ahem, little theory on the extinguishment of the
Meeting�� She looked as if she were trying to be tactful. �It shows an
excellent beginner�s knowledge of Elemental properties, Headmaster. And we � my
team � have actually been working on this problem for a few years, Meetings
being the destructive force they are. We began with your idea of opposing
forces canceling each other out�� she frowned here, looking downcast, �and
were�unsuccessful.�

Marissa pulled Percy down to her level and whispered, �What she means is
half her team was injured or killed, and only a few of the more powerful
Elementals were able to control the issue. It wasn�t her fault; it was her
superior�s, who died in the reaction. She was warning against it the whole
time, but no one listened until after the fact. She got the leadership position
then.�

Percy nodded and then focused on the younger witch. It seemed as though
Percy�s first evaluation the woman was only semi-correct. She was a pretty girl
with blue eyes and small structure. Marissa had said she was a half Wind
Elemental with little power, but Madam Polenin claimed she had great
understanding of theory. She certainly sounded knowledgeable, and when she wasn�t
being haughty, she sounded quite intelligent and inspired.

��to understand our mistake. The fact that canceling out an Element is
impossible aside, it�s highly dangerous. I then came up with the theory of
magical absorption. Magical absorption is�it�s difficult, and you have to be
highly trained. On small levels, it has worked. We were able to train a
complete novice in the field of Elemental powers to dissolve Fire and Wind.
Earth is proving tricky, but Water is coming along nicely.�

�So,� McGonagall concluded, �what you�re saying is you need a whole
group of people to suck up this power and you can save Miss Weasley?�

Bowman shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked at the table for a
moment, hands wringing in her lap. �Not exactly,� she began. �We haven�t
actually tried it on a large scale yet�the, ahem, dangers are numerous. Not to
mention the fact that this is the single largest Meeting in the past five
centuries, maybe in recorded history! Think about it! If this is Ebony High
Priestess Dreamweaver Weasley we are talking about, maybe the most powerful
Elemental our world has ever seen, and she is making this Meeting (which I
assume to be true), she�s going to fight its destruction, no matter who we are!
If she is doing this to protect herself�well, I don�t know if we�ll succeed in
stopping the Meeting, or even making it smaller.�

Madam Polenin cleared her throat and said, �So you�re worthless. What
are you doing here?�

Victoria straightened, looking indignantly at Polenin. �I most certainly
am not! I�I have an alternative planned�just in case. It�s�it is not really
ready for�for the public, you could say. Actually I have no reason to think it
will work�other than the math works out to the last decimal.�

�Well, out with it, girl,� Madam Polenin pushed, looking disgustedly at
Bowman.

�I was thinking a sort of�s�ance.�

As one, the members of the Witches� Coven all scoffed. They tittered
amongst themselves as though it were a silly, completely idiotic notion not
worth a second thought. Percy found himself agreeing with them. S�ances were
things Muggle children did at slumber parties and giggled over with
flashlights. Percy didn�t know any witch or wizard who would demean themselves
by holding an old-fashioned s�ance, the type of thing their ancestors did when
magic was still weak.

�A s�ance! Really, Bowman, you seem to have lost a bit of your edge!�

�Why don�t we tell ghost stories and eat sweets, too?�

�Have you ever heard a more ridiculous notion?�

�I�ll never sit in a circle with her!�

Bowman took it all with surprising calm, ignoring the Coven members
until they quieted. Then she looked directly at Dumbledore, apparently not
caring what her superiors thought of her idea. �I know it sounds foolish,
Headmaster,� she said softly, her eyes glinting with hope, �but Weasley is too
powerful for magical absorption. She�d kill even Coven Witch McGonagall with
not so much as a fifth of her power. You�ve got to believe she�s still herself
in there, no matter how much Elemental radiation she�s buried under.

�We need to talk her down from this. We need someone who is close enough
to her, who connects enough with her, to communicate with her. A family member
would be an obvious choice, but close friends of hers would work very well,
too. Obviously I�m open for suggestions on this one, Headmaster, but, truly, in
my heart, I don�t think we can force her down from the meditational slumber she
has put herself in. Do you � can you � see what I mean?�

Everyone quieted a great deal as Bowman spoke. Percy could see people
were beginning to accept her idea as genuine, now that the headmaster seemed to
be considering it. Percy waited in silence for the headmaster to speak, while
ticking off the people who would be suitable to talk to Ginny.

Bill, Charlie, and himself would be out of the question. She was close
with all, but not quite as close as she could have been because of the age
differences. Fred and George were right out, too. They never really formed a
strong bond with anyone but themselves in the family. Ron was actually a good
candidate the more Percy thought it over. He cared more about Ginny than he let
on and was always the one, before anyone else, who would notice if Ginny was
missing or had wandered off. They got in spats quite often, though they were
almost never serious.

In the end, Percy had to say, out of his family, their mother had the
deepest connection with Ginny. Ginny was her only girl, the one on whom she
doted. Ginny was the one who got her hair braided and was there to learn all
the maternal traits their mother had to give. Sure, Ginny loved her father, but
it was a different sort of bond.

Truthfully, Percy didn�t know enough of Ginny�s friends to make an
accurate guess there. He�d heard she�d had a Ravenclaw boyfriend for a while in
her fourth year, but they�d broken up over something little. He knew she was
good friends with some of the more artistic people at Hogwarts. One, Colin
Creevey, came to mind, as well as, for some odd reason, a poetic Slytherin
whose father owned the Floo Network in England, Blaise Zabini. There was also
the black Gryffindor Percy recalled giving points to as a prefect when he had
seen how good the boy was with a pencil, after he made a drawing for a
Quidditch match.

Drawn out of his musings, Percy jumped at the sound of Dumbledore�s voice.
�Thank you, Coven Witch Bowman. Your suggestion, I think, has been the best so
far. In fact, it has been the only that is plausible. I must ask; whom do you
plan on recruiting for this operation? You must have someone in mind.�

Bowman looked down at her hands, sighing deeply. �Yes, Headmaster. I
did.�

�Well, out with it then!� Professor McGonagall said impatiently, rapping
her fingers on the wooden table.

Bowman ground her teeth, and Percy could see she was trying not to bite
out a smart reply. �I can�t help but think, Headmaster, that if we were to hold
a s�ance of some sort, the Death Eaters in the area would be able to sense it
and attack us. It would be a battle to not only save High Priestess Weasley,
but to keep her as well. I propose a defensive force be at ready in case
anything happens of that sort�if I�ve not overstepped my bounds��

�Hmm�� Dumbledore rumbled appreciatively, nodding.

�Bright girl,� Moody said from beside the headmaster. �And I suppose
that�s why you wanted me here at the meeting. Ya been plannin� this ever since
you were invited?�

�Yes, Auror Moody,� Bowman said calmly.

Percy saw Bowman�s superiors looked rather impressed, and he found
himself feeling the same way. Had she, a girl barely out of school, planned all
this by herself? Had she calculated the exact amount of time and manpower she
would need to save his little sister, a person she barely knew, all because she
was a member of this underground organization called the Coven? It seemed a bit
surreal, though all this proof in front of him was hard to ignore.

�I made a list of people who I thought would be effective in this
s�ance. Shall I read them?� She looked at the headmaster inquisitively, and he
nodded in reply. �Right. Coven Witch Dorothea Polenin, Miss Narcissa Black formerly
Mrs. Malfoy, High Prefect Matilda Law, Coven Witch Minerva McGonagall, Coven
Witch Fleur Delacour, Candidate Coven Witch Hermione Granger, Candidate Coven
Witch Padma Patil, Candidate Coven Witch Parvati Patil, and myself.

�Of course that�s only nine, and for a powerful Coven S�ance, we�ll need
at least three, maybe six more. I tried to put many Elementals in the batch,
along with people High Priestess Ginevra knows well, thus Coven Witch Polenin
and Candidate Coven Witch Granger. The female aspect of it is obvious; High
Priestess Weasley is a female, thus needs a female coven to perform the s�ance.
Her mother I believe to be the obvious choice for the speaker; no one could do
it better than Coven Witch Prewett.�

Strengthened in purpose, Victoria Bowman sat. She was patient while
waiting for the answer of her Coven Sisters and the Aurors. Eventually, after
much deliberation (or so it sounded), the Coven Witches finally agreed to
collect the people necessary. Moody also agreed to gather as many able Aurors
as possible to defend Ginny, of which Percy was happy to say he was part.

On his way out of the conference room, however, Percy was stopped by
Marissa � who pulled him into a dark corner and hushed him with a glance. She
looked very serious, something which told Percy a lot. Marissa was very rarely
serious if she could help it; Percy thought it was the only thing keeping her
sane. She tried to be jovial through it all, even though she was surrounded by
death and lies all the time. She remained her outward calm and frivolity quite
well, however manufactured it was.

�Percy,� she said quietly, having huddled him into a corner. Her deep
blue eyes were haunting in this light, and Percy found it hard to remain
contact with them. �I need you to do something for me, Percy.�

�What?� he whispered back to her, becoming slightly worried.

�I won�t be able to go to battle, Percy, because of my position,� she
said almost gloomily, �but I can give you a bit of information that will help
you.�

Percy nodded.

�This,� Marissa said softly, pulling out a ring with intricate Celtic
knots etched in it, �is called a Spikinrig, a very old magic from Ireland
herself. It allows two people to communicate with each other safely over any
distance. They are flawless in design, and they can�t be destroyed easily, for
these are far older than you or I. There is a person, a spy, inside the walls
of Mordred�s Fortress, who carries the sister to this Spikinrig. He will be
able to help you with You-Know-Who�s plans.�

She put the ring, which was hanging from a chain around her neck, into
his hand and closed it around his palm. �Promise me that you won�t let this
fall into the wrong hands. I�ve told Moody you have it, because he and
Dumbledore are the only other two who even know of its existence. Promise me,
Percy.�

Percy nodded again, solemnly, and studied the knotted ring. �I promise,
Marissa.� His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her again. �Who has the other
ring?�

Marissa licked her lips. �Well, you know him��

Percy frowned.

�Marcus Flint,� Marissa murmured quietly. �He�s been loyal since our
sixth year, ever since his father took him on his training summer and he had to
kill a little girl. He�s always been loyal, Percy, always. And�� Her eyes grew
distant, almost teary, and she looked into the space behind Percy�s head.
�And�and I love him.� Her eyes focused on him again, tears welling dangerously
close to breaking point. �So take care of this, please, for me.�

The shock was a big one, but Percy felt himself nodding before he was
shoved out of the corridor and confronted with the scene of his two younger
brothers hitting on Victoria Bowman. Pushing past them, he saw his mother for
the first time in ages, and everything went black again.

�Samson�s Powers - reference to the Biblical Samson whose power source
was his hair; Delilah, his mistress, sold him out�
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