A/N: I have pledged to do one story at a time (three stories at once led to Fancie's demise), so here is The Elementals
, my first attempt at a war drama. It’s centered on the Elemental Council and the Rogues, the Elementals who are, well, rogues. I could spend hours talking about how wacky it is, but I think I ought to let you read so you can tell me what you really think! Review, please!
Without further ado,
P.S. : A buttload of ideas came from Magical Hogwarts. Credit goes to them for coming up with the Council and other elements, the Rogues/Colours, and the spells. Also to Ernie_the_Dino, who inspired me to get off my butt and type this thing.
Blaise Zabini’s spinny chair stopped spinning, and he let out yet another frustrated groan. He couldn’t come up with anything, not even while spinning in the chair, and that always worked! Nothing made sense.
Blaise had been a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for some time, and he hadn’t seen anything quite like the case of Rose Weasley. Hell, he’d been surrounded by Death Eaters half his life and he had never even heard of anything like this.
She was brilliant, possibly even more so than her mother had been. Her writing showed intelligence, wit, and a wisdom far beyond her years. Blaise always wondered why she wasn’t in Ravenclaw. When she began the year, her wandwork was better than any of her peers. She moved up the ranks of wand magic very quickly. Blaise would openly admit to anyone that Rose Weasley was his favorite student. He also knew he wasn't the only one willing to do so.
At the end of October, Rose began to have problems with her wandwork. She couldn’t produce Transfiguration or Defense spells. As it stood, she couldn’t do anything at all with her wand. She had become a Squib in a matter of weeks. Rose was a very bright, bouncy girl, but it was obvious that this bothered her to no end.
He stood up and walked out of his office, away from the spinny chair and its fruitlessness. He was going to pay his mentor a visit.
Ω Ω Ω Ω Ω
Minerva McGonagall was an old, old woman. She had stepped down from her role as Headmistress ten years prior, but found herself alone and with nowhere to go. And so, it was decided that she would stay at Hogwarts.
It was a long and grueling walk up all of the stairs to her apartments. Minerva herself was unable to walk them anymore, and took her meals in her room.
Blaise opened the door without knocking, knowing he’d find her sitting at her window. Looking out with a vacant expression on her face at the grounds below, thinking. About what, Blaise never knew, but she was the wisest person he had ever known and he never questioned her.
It was routine of sorts with them. He explained all of his thoughts, and she would not acknowledge him until the very end. She made him think things through, and this was no exception.
“Have you ever heard of the Elemental Council?”
He frowned. “No,” he said. “I can’t say that I have.”
“What about the Council of Inverness?”
Blaise recognized the name immediately. It brought back memories of his old nursemaid. Every night, she recounted the legend and adventures of the Council of Inverness, the members of which were wizards with amazing powers. He couldn't remember specifics, but the one that thing that he could recall was that they conjured lightning rain whenever they went to fight. The stories had scared him to death as a kid. Of course, he was a little too prideful to tell Minerva all of that. So, he just said, “Isn’t that the legend of the weather people?”
She snorted. “Elementals, Mr. Zabini. Not weather people; Elementals. And yes, Air Elementals can control the weather, to an extent.”
“So, wait- Do you mean to tell me Elementals are real?”
“Are you suggesting that they have something to do with this?”
“Not quite. You see, Blaise, do you remember anything about the legend of the Elementals?”
He thought a moment. “They renounced everything to do with regular wizardry. They didn’t use wands.”
Minerva snorted again. “Yes,” she said, “I’m sure that’s what they’d like you to think. In reality, they lose all wand magic capabilities at the age of ten.”
“But Rose is eleven. Do you really believe that she could be an Elemental?”
“Yes. That is exactly what I think. I think she was not actively recruited by the Elementals because she still had the ability to cast wand magic. She is only losing it now, a year later than the usual.”
“Yes, yes, “ he mused. “It all fits. But what to do about it? If they’re all so secretive as you say they are, what are we going to do with Rose?” He sort of doubted the existence of these Elementals. His nursemaid told dark stories about them as a way of making sure he wouldn’t get out of bed to wander the estate at night. He was ashamed to say it succeeded. If the Elementals really existed, then they were probably dark and dangerous.
Minerva looked at him as if he had another head sprouting from his neck. “Blaise.” She spoke his name slowly, as if to a young uncomprehending child. “I mean to send her to them.”