Elementals of Magic: Prophecy of Lies

Chapter 12

The Sand Man and the Riddle Master

November had come to the world. Red and gold leaves swirled around in the cool autumn wind before bidding it good-bye and drifting down to their resting place. The branches of trees grew barer and barer; brown was everywhere in nature, in the barks of trees, in the soil on the ground. The green had gone away with promises of another fulfilling spring.

Hogwarts was another customer of autumn's redecorating. Quite a few trees in the Forbidden Forest were deciduous, their branches bare, piles of leaves around their trunks, waiting to decompose. Other trees had green needles, ones that they didn't shed during autumn. Cool winds blew outside, penetrating the thin robes the students wore, making them shiver.

***

Moonlight danced upon the lake. All was quiet at Hogwarts, save for the periodic hooting of the owls and the snores drifting out the windows.

The lake was peaceful and serene. The giant squid lay in its burrow, resting for another day of catching food from the students and hunting for itself. The mermen and mermaids were slumbering in their houses, some tossing and turning, others dreaming of a more desirable life.

In Gryffindor Tower, a boy lay in bed, a peaceful smile on his face. His mind was swimming with happy images, of times long gone, of times that never were.

***

A young boy with messy black hair and brilliant emerald eyes climbed down the ladder on the side of the bunk bed. His foot stepped on something soft. The green eyes widened as a groan issued from below.

Grey eyes opened and fell on the boy.

"You!"

The blonde leapt out of bed and aimed a punch at the other boy. The punch hit his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. He fell to the floor with a thud.

"It was an accident, I swear!"

"The same excuse? How pathetic are you?"

The blonde boy, spurred on by the other boy's defense, started punching and kicking the other boy. They were only disentangled when the counselors arrived. The black-haired boy had two black eyes, a bloody nose, and several cuts on his lips. His face was bloated and swollen, turning a nasty purple. His eyes were so swollen that he couldn't see out of them.

"Mr. Moore, explain yourself."

"He stepped on me while he was climbing down the ladder and then made an excuse so he could pretend that he didn't do it on purpose."

"That does not..."

"It was an accident!! I have better things to do than to step on people!"

"Quit lying! You know you want attention!"

"Mr. Moore, Mr. Evans, the two of you will be put isolation until you can solve your conflict. Pack your stuff, and don't come back until you're friends."

***

Dark clouds gathered together in the sky, ready to loose their anger upon the world. They opened their floodgates, and rain pelted down to earth. Lightning, seeing his chance to show off, flashed to earth every few seconds, cutting off the electricity in many a place. Thunder boomed with laughter at his friend's antics. Winds had also arrived, running here and there, trying to knock down as much as they can.

In a leaky cabin at Winston's Summer Camp For Boys, two boys huddled on opposite sides of the room. Rain constantly dripped down from the ceiling. The wind penetrated the cabin through cracks in the walls, making the two boys shiver. There was a good chance both boys would catch pneumonia.

Drake wanted his mother. She would sweep him in a hug and comfort him, holding him until the storm left. His mother was the best mother in the world. She always gave him whatever he wanted and did whatever he wanted, and he wanted to be back with her. She had only convinced him to go with the books; Drake, though, was starting to regret coming here. He imagined his mother's arms around him, delicate hands stroking his hair and back, smelling the same way it smelled after a summer storm - clean, pure, and refreshing.

Henry wanted a friend. He had never been able to have friends. His cousin was a bully and disliked him immensely, and all the other children at school avoided him, fearing to get on his cousin's bad side. His parents had been dead ever since he was one; they died in a car crash, and he had been stuck with his aunt and uncle ever since, the only relatives he had in the world.

With the wooden floor constantly being soaked, they moved closer and closer until they were sitting next to each other.

Unconsciously, Henry said, "I'm scared."

A snide remark was about to roll off Drake's tongue until he looked at Henry. Henry was small and skinny, wearing baggy clothes that were no doubt hand-me-downs, and looking truly pitiful.

"You know, I really didn't mean that. The first time, someone did push me into you, but you just didn't believe me. And I swear, I didn't mean to step on your hand. It's too....delicate to bruise," he said to himself.

And Drake found himself wanting to believe him, no, believing him.

"I forgive you," he whispered.

Henry turned to look at the blonde.

"Really?" he asked softly.

Drake nodded.

"But why?"

"I doubt you would say that my hand's too delicate to bruise if you didn't really mean it."

Henry blushed.

"I didn't realize that I was actually talking."

"Forget it, Henry."

Silence reigned in the room.

"You know, we could have been friends, if you never fell into me," Drake said softly.

"It's not too late to start. Summer's not over yet."

***

It was the end of camp. Boys went to wait for their buses, saying good-bye to their new-found friends and promising to meet again someday. Drake and Henry stood next to each other.

"There's a good chance we'll never see each other again, Henry."

"Drake, promise me that one day, you'll come visit me."

"I will."

The blonde caught sight of a limo.

"Bye, Henry. This was the best summer I've ever had."

"Same here."

The two boys stepped briefly into a hug, and then Drake walked away, towards his mother.

***

Harry woke up. The dream was...strange, yet nice in a way. And deep down in his mind, the Gryffindor could remember what happened over that summer, the summer he made his first true friend. Pity that Drake wasn't a Wizard.

***

Draco also awoke. He remembered now, the boy named Henry. Henry had been a true friend, like Pansy, but Draco had never been able to see him again. There was no doubt that Henry was a Muggle; it was a Muggle camp. The only reason he went was because Narcissa convinced him with the same books he was using now.

Singing drifted in through a window. The blonde scowled. Fuck Zabini. The stupid Limnad/Siren didn't know the meaning of shut up. Draco's original intention was to turn the other boy into a Siren. However, when Narcissa sent the instructions, Draco had misread a few, turning the brown-haired Slytherin into a hybrid, part Limnad, part Siren.

***

At breakfast, while the mail was dropped whistling down to the tables by the circling owls, eager to fly back to the Owlery for some rest, nobody noticed Blaise's sudden choke. That is, except Draco.

Soon, Lupin ran down from the High Table to the gasping boy. Or Limnad/Siren. Long brown hair fell down the shoulders, and the body was wrapped in a cerulean dress, seemingly made of water, the way it flowed and rippled. Blaise had turned...beautiful, at least for a girl.

As soon as Blaise was set in the lake, the singing began. The melody and the tone was unbelievably beautiful and touching, and many a boy found themselves wandering down by the lake, some even jumping in, trying to swim after the new inhabitant of the lake.

Limnads were a type of Naiads, water nymphs. They were the nymphs of lakes and lured people to their deaths by mimicking screams of distressed people. Sirens were beautiful women with the lower body of a bird that sang harmonious melodies to lure sailors to their deaths.

Blaise, of course, tried to kill anyone who was foolish enough to jump in. Several students had to be rescued from the Limnad/Siren's clutches. Even though warnings had been made, there were still a few students who were stupid enough to jump in, especially after hearing her songs.

***

Draco covered his ears with his pillow. With Veela blood in him, he was safe against all charms meant to seduce him, but the singing was annoying. However, Draco didn't regret it. No one goes around treating Malfoys like that. No one.

The professors had been looking for a cure, but Draco doubt that they would find it anytime soon. Especially since he botched the potion, but hey, that wasn't a bad thing after all.

***

That week, in Charms, Professor Flitwick taught them all the Transcribing Charm.

Hermione was not happy.

"To think I could have saved all that work when I studied for O.W.L.s! But I'm glad we're learning this. It could save me so much work for N.E.W.T.s, which by the way, is in seven months! I suggest the two of you start studying in January. Harry, you might not have to take end-of-year exams, but you still have to take the N.E.W.T.s, and they are very important!"

"Knowing Hermione, she probably started studying for N.E.W.T.s over the summer," whispered Ron to Harry.

Harry was glad, and he paid much attention to Professor Flitwick. This charm was going to be useful with the one-read parchment.

***

Draco felt that Flitwick was unfairly helping the other champions. He himself had already transcribed the words on the parchment, though with a Displacing Charm that he had learned in Second Year.

***

Draco had opened all his Yule presents except for one. The one from Pansy.

The gift was wrapped in silver, with pale gold ribbons tied around it. It was heavy, very. What kind of present could be so weighty?

The Slytherin carefully unwrapped the ribbons and peeled back the silver paper. In it was a book, bound by black leather. The title read "Handy Spells for Any Wizard, including Dark hexes and curses."

Well, this would prove very useful. And the blonde wondered how Pansy managed to get her hands on one. He turned to her.

"Where did you get this book?"

"Oh, that?" Pansy asked lightly. "If you really want to know, I asked that git Lockhart to sign me a note allowing access to the Restricted Section. I said it was for research, and he believed me. I swear, does that man even have anything in his head? And I used a charm in it to create two books just like it, one for you and one for me."

Draco kissed Pansy fondly on the cheek.

"Pansy, you really do know me well. You would make a great wife."

***

The parchment held a riddle. No doubt the test of Ravenclaw, who always had a thing for brains, something that almost none of his Housemates had. Even Draco felt a bit perplexed about this one.

Silver eyes, a family trait,

Orphaned, yet held no hate.

Dragon blood runs through her veins,

Her destiny is full of pains.

Gryffindor, yet stronger,

Love made her fonder,

A Slytherin she was to hate,

Though that was not her fate.

Love made her different,

She never was diffident.

Gryffindor Head Girl, she was,

Slytherin Head Boy, he was.

Though they couldn't ever be,

Love wouldn't set her free,

Last seen long ago,

Still trying to save her foe.

Not a Malfoy, though with their blood,

Raised by Muggles, though with no Mud,

More powerful than Him, not impossible,

But is she really true and plausible?

To find what you need, in a painting,

Don't be surprised, no need for fainting,

When asked, give you and your mother's name,

Be sure to do this, and you'll be game.

To realize true feeling, best look inside,

Otherwise, many more will die,

Once discovered, can this go on,

Pain and suffering will be long.

Trust in your heart,

Go for the hart,

Just this simple need, not greed,

The truth will set you free.

To tell the truth, Draco had absolutely no clue what this meant. And the situation on Victoria was not improving. He had written Narcissa, of course, to provide him with useful information, namely everything she knew.

***

When Harry finally sat down and opened his parchment, of course casting a Transcribing Charm on it as soon as he unrolled it, he found it to be a riddle.

This must be Ravenclaw's Test.

And when he finished reading it, the riddle confused him greatly.

Brilliant and handsome, not always known,

Once known happiness, though now alone.

A tough life and bad decision he made,

With bad consequences up to date.

Slytherin Head Boy, obviously so,

That was certain, from the get go.

He had once known love, though now long past,

The love from her although did last.

Gryffindor Head Girl, that was the one,

Quite unusual, said and done.

Can be more powerful than he,

Though most people don't believe.

Now spreading terror and destruction,

Tainted by power and corruption,

Once stopped but now come back,

Great powers he doesn't lack.

Look for him, in a painting,

It's who you think, so no fainting,

Tell him Victoria, when he asks,

Then you'll be able to complete your task.

Free your feelings to move in the game,

Love's not just a name, or fame.

Though the way might be painful and hard,

Many will die if you don't play this card.

Believe in your feelings,

Trust its dealings,

The dragon looms and waits,

Set yourself free, 'tis your fate.

As far as Harry could tell, this made no sense at all. Hermione was good at this, not him. How was he supposed to figure this out?