Elemental Genesis

Chapter Twenty-Two: Counsel and Advice

Its master and the woman walked downstairs to discuss something. Presumably, the topic was to decide what to do with it. But it did not care. It would stay anyway, even if it weren't allowed. Haughtily, the cat padded over to the other spirit in the room.

I see that I am not alone.

No, you are not. But I wish to know why you are here. I will allow no harm to come to the boy.

I see. Well, you are a guardian spirit. But I mean no trouble. I come seeking only a master and I have found him. The gods have given me the name of Kardis.

I am White Owl. So you have chosen him? Do you have any specific reasons for that decision? Obviously, the bird was suspicious of it. Also, if it did come to a fight, it had no doubt that it would come to a draw. This spirit was ancient and powerful, much like itself. However, man didn't conjure or create it. It sensed the power of the underworlds at work.

His power reminds me of a goddess who I have great respect for.

Would that be the goddess Melania Amarna, dark queen of the dead?

Correct.

Then I foresee no problem with you. The boy is a descendant of hers and she watches over him actively.

Actively? What for? I am certain he can take care of himself.

Oh, he can. But can he stand against Pheta Vaneria? He will come to in time, but at the moment, he cannot. That is why we had to block his memories from his conscious and unconscious mind. So that he could learn new abilities while in a loving environment that was denied to him before.

So that is the underlying flow to all of this mess. This goddess seeks to destroy the last of those born to Melania.

It is none of Melania's fault. And in a way, it is none of Pheta's. Gryffindor ruined the balance of power.

But that is how is how it always is. For example, if that priest had just placed another jar of wine at the Temple of the Sovereign in Atlantis, that great utopia might have still survived today.

This is true. And there are other examples of this in history as well. Destiny is a fickle deity.

She freed me from my cage in London. I mauled the face of the one who mocked me.

I was wondering where the blood on your claws came from. You had better clean them for the Lady Zylle is quite perceptive. You also have to assume a more...mortal guise.

The cat looked at the owl with green eyes of confusion before it realized what it meant. I must take a gender and a new name you mean?

It is necessary if you are to stay as a pet. The name part we have no say in. White Owl flapped her wings. I have chosen to be female and have received the name of 'Hedwig'.

You would know. A green aura surrounded it, before turning blue. It vanished after a few moments. I guess I will receive my name soon. But I am a male now.

Behave yourself.

You know where I am going?

It is not hard to guess. I still advise you to exercise caution. Elementals are more perceptive than wizards.

Thank you for the counsel.

It is no problem. You are young.

<><><>

How Zylle could manage to look impressive while wearing only a thin nightgown and a flannel bathrobe was something that probably wouldn't be revealed. She sat across from Night in the living room, her gray eyes inquiring. "How did the cat get in?"

Here was the trouble. "I opened the door to get a bit of fresh air," he quickly covered. "I guess it came in then."

She looked at him even more deeply. "...I see."

"Can we keep it?"

Zylle's expression turned from intense to surprise. "Repeat that again. I think my hearing is finally going."

"Can we keep it? It doesn't seem to be doing anything wrong and it seems nice."

"I don't know." She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you can take care of a cat?"

"Mu-Zylle!" He caught himself right there. No doubt Zylle wouldn't be able to take being suddenly called 'mum' along with the prospect of possessing a cat. And he himself did not know how to deal with it.

As if on cue, the black cat stalked into the room. He nearly laughed. It looked as if it already owned the house from the way that it walked. Imperiously, it jumped up into Zylle's lap, curled itself up, and purred contentedly. He grinned as he saw Zylle smile and pet the creature. "Well...fine." Night would have whooped here in victory if he didn't know that wouldn't get him anywhere. "But remember, he is your responsibility."

"Yes!" The cat looked at him questionably when he did this. "Now we need a name for him."

"Call him 'Fluffy' or 'Paws' then I will not allow you to have this pet. If we do have a pet, then he better have a unique name."

He thought for a bit. "How about...hmm..."

The older woman smirked. "Difficulty?"

"You aren't helping."

"BREAKFAST!" A sharp clanging reverberated throughout the house. Source: the kitchen. Apparently, Gran was banging the meal 'gong' again.

"I'll think it over breakfast," Night resigned. He got up and began to walk towards the dining room when he heard Zylle laughing. "What's so funny?" Zylle only pointed down. Looking in the direction, he saw the cat sitting calmly at his feet. Night shrugged and walked down the hallway. Again, Zylle was laughing. And again, the cat was at his feet. It was following him as if it were his shadow.

<><><>

"Night. There's a cat following you." Trina pointed at the black feline that was trailing their amnesiac, but powerful, friend. The trio was meeting at the beech tree in the park. It seemed to have become their customary meeting spot. "A really beautiful cat."

The cat in mention looked extremely prideful of this fact. Night just scratched the feline behind its ears, making the cat purr again. He got the feeling that this cat was pretty happy a lot of the time. "I know. Zylle let me keep it."

Bran rolled his eyes. "Only you could get away with that. Even if I were allowed a pet - which I'm not - my little sisters would pamper it." Bran really did love his younger sisters, even if he did not show it too well. In public, that is. When Night visited the Ravencroft household, he had broken down in hysterics when one had tied a pink ribbon in their older brother's red hair.

Trina reached over and also began to pet it. "It's beautiful! What's its name? Is it a boy or girl?"

Night grinned. It seemed his new companion here liked all the attention. "It's a male cat and its name is Shadow."

"Shadow?" Bran looked from cat to master. "I get it."

"Explain it to me then," Trina said off-handedly.

Bran grinned at the girl. "The cat happens to be Night's 'shadow' because it's following him everywhere."

Sitting down at the base of the giant beech, they immediately got to the point of today's gathering. Simeon Bradley. Night had met him only about five days ago. And he took a disliking to the other boy instantly. The Bradleys were a prominent Arashi-Tenku family. Since Zylle didn't have a son nor was she married, they had thought that claiming the title of 'Black Dragon' would be a piece of cake. That was before Night had shown up.

Now the family was in a rage against him. Simeon Bradley himself had shown up to convey that perfectly. He claimed that since he wasn't a clan member, he shouldn't compete in the tournament. Also, the git began to insult Bran, who was there at the time. Simon again, argued that Bran shouldn't compete either since Conrad Ravencroft had left the clan years ago. For a witch, Simeon had said scathingly.

It was time for payback.

Night had been worried when Trina would come if she would try to stop them. To his immense surprise and joy, she was just as enthusiastic as they. She had even helped make the plan even better than it already was.

Night asked, "So, we're ready?"

Trina grinned evilly, "Oh yeah. That arrogant jerk needs a lesson." Night had asked why she always wore a rose behind her ear, but the girl had just smiled and said you'll see.

"I agree," Bran said. "Let's make sure that his popular friends are there, too."

They had just gotten up, Shadow still at Night's heels, when Night saw something that made him stop in shock.

"Guys..."

Bran turned to him. "What?"

"That guy over there..." Night pointed. "Is he walking around naked?"

Trina covered her eyes while Bran looked. "Yeah. So?"

"Bran, I don't think you understand how odd that is."

"Actually, that's normal for him."

"You're joking."

"Nope. He's Calvin Springfield, an earth elemental in our clan. We call him 'Streaker'."

"I can see why."

Trina said, eyes still covered, "Don't worry about it, he's been doing that since he was five. The main trick is to maintain eye contact or focus on his head."

"...Thanks for the advice."

"Here he is. Let the plan commence!"

A group of five boys were walking down the park lane, all dressed in modern and hip clothing. It was easy to pick out the leader: the brown haired boy with the self-centered smirk on his face. They were walking along the path to the main square of the park, seeming to enjoy the writing on a certain piece of newspaper. When Night had first met him, he had found it hard to believe that this guy was a wind elemental. He was too brash and too narrow-minded. But after all the insults, it was time for revenge. Night gave the signal to Bran, stationed in a tree across the path, before putting up a water shield around Trina and him.

"Hey...Simeon! Is it just me or is it getting a bit warm?" The boy pulled at the collar of his shirt. The sudden increase of heat also made them start sweating profusely. Night and Trina were perfectly comfortable within the cool water shield while Bran was lounging in the heat unconcernedly. Fire elementals were accustomed to extreme heat. One of the reasons they did this was because they knew that none of Simeon's friends were water or fire elementals.

"Calm down," said Simeon imperiously. "I'll handle it." Night felt Simeon tap into the winds. But he was prepared. I don't think so. The winds, instead of blowing cold air like the other intended, had just blown the heated air back at them. When Simeon realized what was going on, he immediately stopped. He cringed when he noticed the glares of his friends, obviously annoyed that he had done that. "Sorry." But he wasn't going to be let off. The winds had started up again.

Grinning, he nudged Trina to start her part.

Bran nearly fell out of the tree laughing when one of the boys let out a high-pitched scream. The prim flowers planted around the square had started release stinging pollen while the trees attempted to reach out and grab them with their branches. The winds that Night was making made the pollen even worse. The group of stuck-up boys looked scared out of their minds.

While they were distracted, Night saw Trina reach out for the rose behind her eye. Smiling widely, she brandished it. In a flurry of rose petals, he saw that she now held a thorny whip in her hands. With a swift motion, she managed to catch the paper that was evidently hilarious, while making a tear in Simeon's designer jeans.

"Let's get out of here!" That guy went off running, shrieking. After a brief pause and a swift look, the others went to follow his example. But they didn't quite make it. They had slipped on ice a la Night.

Night was clearly enjoying himself, as was Trina. He even thought that Shadow seemed to be having a good time.

It was at this point that they were going to sneak away. There was no need to tell Simeon who had done this. They stopped when a stream of water from the fountain splashed all four remaining boys forcefully.

The guys had then run off in fright, making quite the comical scene. Night looked around to find who did that stream of water since it wasn't him. Behind the trees, he saw a tall boy with deep blue eyes and spiky light brown hair. The guy just gave him a half-smile before vanishing.

<><><>

"You mean-"

"Yep."

Night ran up and gave Zylle a giant hug. "Today has to be the best day of my life!"

"Don't tell me I have to question what you've done today," exclaimed Zylle jokingly. "You've probably done nothing but cause trouble."

"It's the truth."

"Well, anyway, it's time you learned how to form an elemental sword. I daresay you practiced enough with the regular sword to know the basics."

"Right," he nodded. He guessed that she knew about the extra sword training that he had been doing. It had helped a lot: he blocked more and got better hits than he had before.

"This is what you do," started Zylle. "It's relatively simple."

He first looked at her in shock and then glared. "Then why am I learning it now if it was easy?!"

"It won't form if you don't know how to use a sword."

"Oh. Continue."

"But of course, your majesty," Zylle said pompously. "First things first, form a ball of wind in your hand. Sort of like how you would form a fireball."

Night put out his right hand and concentrated. Fireballs were easy. And Gran had made it a whole lot more fun learning them by having a mini-war in the living room. Of course, there was quite a bit of cleaning that had to be done afterward. Feeling a cool orb of wind energy in his hand, he looked up at Zylle to give him further instructions.

"Now, just think of a sword and there it is."

"I can't believe it's that simple."

"In theory, it is. But you have to have enough mastery and experience with the weapon and the element to do it. You're doing pretty well. Most elementals take about two months to form even the bare bones of a weapon. See? Training pays off."

Night just gave her a look of exasperation. "That depends on what kind of training," he replied, thinking about his last lesson with Professor Coulter. She had taught him the importance of movement in a duel. By freezing his feet to the ground. "Here goes nothing." Thinking of the basic characteristics of a sword: blade and hilt, he waited.

It did not take long. After a few seconds, the ball of wind energy was replaced by a very light weight. In his hands, he held a long sword. He recognized the signs that showed it was made of wind: the swirls, the grays, the blues and purples. It was fashioned in the Japanese style, not a broadsword. Of this, he was glad. When he tried some of the broadswords that the Hawking family possessed, he felt awkward and only managed to just swing it blindly.

"Wow," was all he could choke out.

"Are you just going to stand there with it? C'mon! Try it out! Here!" With a whirlwind, a large metal box appeared in the middle of the room. It was about twice as tall as Night himself and made out of solid steel. "Cut through it."

"Zylle, that's steel!"

"I think I know that. Trust in the sword. It's a simple jump slice, not too hard."

He shrugged. Hope it doesn't break. He jumped into the air, using the air to push himself up for more height like he was taught, and brought the blade down onto the strong metal.

The sword had cut through it as if it were butter.

Night looked at Zylle, who was smiling widely. "Good. Now, we see how it does with rock."

It was going to be a long period of training.

<><><>

Voldemort cowered at the feet of the golden-haired goddess. "I am so sorry, milady. Please forgive your humble servant!" He trembled in fear.

Pheta glared at him with pale lavender eyes filled with rage. He supposed that she might have appeared beautiful to mortals. She certainly did not hide her figure with her white gown and wore more jewelry than he doubted the earth could provide, courtesy of the god of smiths. But he was more afraid of her than anyone. Pheta was powerful despite her front as a benevolent and gentle light goddess. "Kardis was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you squandered it! If you had captured it, then our plans could have been accomplished much more quickly and with even more success!"

"My lady, they claimed the cage holding the cat broke open."

"I am well aware of that, Voldemort!"

"But lady," the demon pleaded. "One of them thought he saw a dark-haired woman watching them all!"

Pheta paused. "Dark-haired woman? Any more specifics?"

"Short hair and hazel eyes."

The goddess scowled. "Don't make up lies! There is no goddess that looks like that! She must've been some witch. Never bring up worthless pieces of information to me again!"

He cowered even more. He was even more hesitant to mention the last two pieces of news. Pheta, however, fixed him with a sharp look. "Well, at least the cat hurt Malfoy. Worthless pawn. Now, what other bad news do you have for me? Yes, I know that you're hiding."

"Wormtail is a shell now."

"Wonderful," she muttered. "What else?"

"My wand," he choked out. "It has been stolen."

"What?! YOU IDIOT!" He cringed. He knew how important that wand was. It was a fact that it had been destined for a descendant of a god made it much more powerful than a normal wand. And since the descendant had used it previously, it had grown stronger because the power had gone directly into the grain of the wood. In the end, it wasn't the phoenix feather that powered the wand, but more of the user. HOW COULD YOU HAVE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN?! I WOULD KILL YOU NOW IF IT WOULDN'T RUIN MY PLANS!"

<><><>

"Why do I have to do this at midnight?"

"Because," Tom reasoned, "You don't have any other free time."

"You are cruel."

"No, I am demanding. We have work to do, young man!"

Cat and owl watched the exchange interestedly. They would have never thought to see their master argue with someone in a mirror. Though they did rather enjoy the older man's presence.

"I. Am. Tired," Night said, enunciating each word.

"I. Am. Trapped. Here," Tom imitated. "So. There."

"You're impossible."

"I know." Tom gave a boyish grin. "It's what makes me so lovable."

"Then why weren't you married?"

"Easy. A demon does a hell of a number on your social life when it's possessing you," Tom replied knowingly. "Maybe when I get out of here, I can meet this 'Zylle'."

"Tom!"

"What? Is it because of the age thing? Because I can assure you that older women are better than younger ones at times because they know what they want."

"Why am I listening to this?"

"Because you have no choice in the matter. HA!" He paused. "You know what?"

"What?"

"We sound like the Lady and Uncle Nat."

"May the Almighty forbid," they said in unison.

Harry pulled himself up from his face-down, spread-eagled position on the bed. "So, what am I learning?"

"Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the Dark Arts."

"The Dark Arts?"

"Oh, yeah, we're going to go really in-depth with that one. But we're starting with transfiguration first."

"Whoopee," Night replied unenthusiastically.

Tom smirked. "Actually, I think you might enjoy this. It's much more useful than the stuff that they do regularly in Hogwarts." He scowled, "When would there be a time where I would need to turn a turtle into a tea pot?" The older man paused. "Why a turtle?"

"Excellent point. But what am I learning?"

"How to transfigure stuff into food."

This had Night interested. "Stuff into food. Can that be done?"

"I thought your grandmother practiced metamorphosis with you."

"Yeah, but that's different."

"Not by much. It's merely a different type and method of magic. But it can be done. Did you know that Hogwarts doesn't teach this?"

"Why not?"

"Who knows?" A hand-sized rock appeared beside him on the big. "Transfigure that into an apple."

Night raised an eyebrow. "Do you mind explaining how?"

"I don't see why I have to. It's easy: point the wand, concentrate on turning it into an apple."

"Please!" He was talking to Tom while offhandedly pointing the wand given to him by Tom at the rock. "It can't be that effortless!"

"Really? Then explain that."

"What?" Night looked beside him. A stark contrast to the emerald green coverlet, sat a bright red apple.

"See? Never doubt me. I'm usually right." He then added. "Remember the 'usually' part in case I'm ever wrong."

<><><>

Zylle and Night were walking down a busy London avenue the next day. They had gone out to buy a few things, including a new microwave. He and Bran had forgotten that microwaves couldn't be mixed with elemental magic. If they do, they blow up. Though they had demolished the kitchen, Gran had congratulated them on an exceptional explosion. Zylle just shook her head and sighed. She explained later that she herself had done it before.

Zylle was attracting a lot of attention on the street. Night guessed it was because she was wearing a blue tank-top and gray capris with strappy high-heeled sandals. Many of those stares came from men. Night admitted that she was good-looking and that it wasn't odd that she was receiving all these looks, but it still bothered him. She was, after all, the closest thing he had to a mother. He also guessed that some of the people had assumed that he was her son, since some of the guys backed away when they saw him beside her. He hadn't worn his gray contacts, but there seemed to be enough of a similarity.

Thankfully, the shopping trip was over. They had ordered the new (and better) microwave and it would be delivered to 14 Zephyrus in a few days. Gran would have mixed feelings. She liked making fire. But she missed the microwave for the pizza that Hans brought over sometimes. Thankfully, she was keeping Shadow company. Shadow had wanted to follow him like usual, but Zylle wouldn't allow it. He could see her point: something bad could happen to it while in the big metropolis.

A voice called out, "ZYLLE!" It was an unfortunately familiar and disliked voice. Both of them turned around. Walking swiftly towards them was David Crowley. And Night distinctly disliked the look he was giving Zylle. Zylle herself didn't seem to appreciate it either.

"What do you want, Crowley?"

Crowley sighed. "Please, Zylle, I've told you many times to call me 'David'." He then gave a winning smile. "Or preferably, 'yours'." Crowley then smirked at Night when he thought Zylle wasn't paying attention.

Night felt like hurting him considerably. This guy was hitting on Zylle in the middle of the street, right in front of him. He couldn't hurt him though. What would Zylle think?

"I would prefer to call you 'Crowley' despite your protestations," she said coolly. "What do you want?"

"I was thinking that why don't you and I get together tonight." Again, Crowley smiled cheesily. "I know a wonderful little French place. I can pick you up myself."

He was seething. He made to step forward, but Zylle held him back with a restraining hand. She smiled back at the arrogant git and said, "I'm sorry, but I really want to have some time with my son. I hope you understand that he's extremely important to me." Night felt a rush of feeling towards Zylle. And gratitude: he'd find someway to stop her if she did take that invitation. He was sure that he and Gran could come up with a good plan if push came to shove.

"Honestly, Zylle, you have better things to do." Crowley replied. "But you should keep a better eye on him. Discipline him more. He was quite rude when we met." Oh crap.

"Really? Is that true?" He heard a steel edge to her voice, but he wasn't sure if it was towards him or Crowley.

"Oh yes. He knocked me into the mud after just an introduction."

"Is that so?" Zylle smiled beatifically down at him and mussed his already messy black hair. "Then, I'm proud of him. Now if you excuse me, Crowley, we really must be going. Good bye." She grabbed Night's hand and lead him down the street pasted a stunned David Crowley. He pushed down his bangs when a stray wind blew.

"HARRY!" Someone was calling a person's name from down the street. The person yelling seemed to be getting closer.

He and Zylle kept walking on and he asked, "You're not mad that I did that to him?"

"Nope. I hate him and after ten years, he still hasn't gotten the message yet."

"HARRY! HARRY!"

"Whew," he sighed. "For a second, I thought I was in trouble."

"Oh, you are. Don't be in doubt about that."

"HARRY! HARRY!"

They walked into a deserted side alley and used a whirlwind to transport back to Grey Tower Town. As they were leaving, Night wondered whether this Harry person was deaf or something.

<><><>

"Hermione, why are we going down this street. It's muggle."

"There's some things here I need to buy, Ginny. Come on! Sirius, do you mind?"

Sirius sighed. "No, of course not." He wondered how he got caught up in this. Oh, yeah, Dumbledore told me to take a break. He didn't need a break. He needed Harry and to look for him. Not to escort two teenage girls shopping around London.

"That Wyvern guy was cute."

"Yeah, I noticed you were looking at him."

"I know. But he's too...Slytherin. You know what I mean?"

"Gotcha."

"Besides, I'm still waiting for Harry. I only came out to see how Bill was doing."

Sirius did not need to hear this.

He guessed he was chosen to do this was because he was one of the few people the Order of the Phoenix had that could pass as a muggle relatively well. He was dressed in a t-shirt and faded jeans, with his hair in its customary ponytail. Normal looking. He and James had plenty of education from Lily and their own escapades into London. How I miss those days.

Sirius looked up at the shop that the two girls stopped at. It was a boutique strictly for girls. He had no place in there. "I'll wait for you girls out here," he said. They nodded and went in. He could see how hard they were trying to act normally. But nothing could draw attention away from the frown hidden beneath those smiles. He sat down on the bench not too far away and waited.

He contented to watch the people pass him buy and reveled in his anonymity. No one knew who he was nor were they going to call the police on him. Those days were over. He was a free man. Who was wishing for the days when he wasn't free.

Across the street, his gaze landed on an attractive woman around his own age across the street. A very attractive woman. He shook this thought out of his head. He didn't need this. She was talking to some pretty-boy guy who seemed to try to be flirting. Sirius scoffed. That's no way to treat a lady, especially one like that. The woman blew him off and grabbed the hand of a boy next to her to continue down the street. He had not seen the boy in those moments before. The woman blocked him from view. They looked a great deal alike. Messy black hair, the same way of walking...except the woman had gray eyes while the boy had a striking...emerald green. A stray wind blew and the boy's forehead was revealed for a few moments he pushed them back down into place. There was a scar shaped like a thunderbolt. Only one person had that scar: it was Harry.

Standing up, he rushed across the street, barely avoiding the incoming traffic, and took off after the pair. "HARRY!"

Harry didn't turn around. He kept on walking, chatting with the woman. Who was this woman? Did she kidnap him? Is she a Death Eater? Still running, he called out Harry's name. But the boy still made no reaction. They turned down a deserted side alley. When he turned into it himself, there was no one there. Just the vestiges of wind.

<><><>

Destiny walked along the stone pathways of Aiken-Quincy Park. It was an extremely magical place, if not in general, then for its beauty. She was looking for something, or rather someone. She was certain he'd be here, too. She would know, being the goddess of fate.

There he was. Sprawled on a park bench, exhausted. The spirit Kardis sat beside him, enjoying the company of its new master. She smiled. Zylle Hawking did not give punishments, she gave training sessions. It was a method that she approved of. Not only did it teach him a lesson, but also it gave him strength. Though, she thought, thinking of one Simeon Bradley, not everyone gets it. He was reading a newspaper clipping and seemed to be very confused by it. She could not blame him. It was about him, although he did not know it. But he would come to. In time.

She could tell he was adapting well to his powers. He was beginning to walk like the wind elemental Zylle did, graceful and fluid. It was heartening. Wind elementals nowadays did not possess the same poise and smoothness. Zylle was one of the few left. Destiny assumed it had something to do with Gyelia. The goddess of the winds was as inconsistent as ever, hardly doing her job. Destiny supposed that she herself could be called 'fickle', but she preferred 'capricious'.

The boy certainly took after the family as well. The black hair, the aura of mystery and dark; he was definitely born of their line. His eyes, though green and a slightly different shape, already possessed the quality that gave others the feeling of being seen straight through. And if her brother was correct, he inherited silver sight. A highly useful psychic ability, though it could also be used against them. Pheta's crusade against Tom had proved that. Destiny wondered how he could be so like them. His father and the rest of his ancestors were Gryffindor to the core: brash, rude, and without refinement, in her opinion. Yet he, who possessed the same blood as they, did not act like that. Somehow, the good qualities of the dark deities had overridden those mortal traits. She was also happy to see the boy gaining more weight and muscle. He was far too thin. In a few years, he should regain all the health that he lost while in the care of those horrible muggles. It was also good to see that he had friends now and a loving family. The things that should not have been denied to him in the first place. Tom was also helping immensely while also gradually healing from his ordeal.

"Hello, young man."

He looked up at her with intense green eyes. Destiny could even see the beginnings of gold and silver flecks in them, a trademark of the family. Tom had already had them. Kudos to Melania for producing some worthy descendants. Harry pushed himself up into the proper position. "Hello, ma'am," he said politely. Kardis looked at her with familiarity. So, it remembered her.

Good, he has some manners. Unlike his father, thank goodness. She inwardly scowled when she had met James. He chased her down the street with fireworks calling her an 'old crone', laughing like a maniac the entire time. But he did lose three quidditch games and failed a few tests after that. "What's a young whippersnapper like yourself loafing about?" She reached over and scratched the feline's ears.

"Just resting. It's been a hectic day."

"I see. Well, remember this, young one." She leaned in and spoke softly. "We are always around, even in disguise. Give my regards to my niece. She's probably still in that palace of hers dealing with Nat." Destiny watched as the boy's eyes grew wide. Intelligent. He understood. "On the night of the red moon, ask for the night goddess. She will help you."

With that she walked off, leaving a very shocked and confused descendant behind. That was her trademark way of leaving them though.

<><><>

Boy-Who-Lived Missing!

According to reliable sources, Harry James Potter has vanished from his relatives' home and cannot be found. His disappearance was discovered when a wizard went to collect Potter on July 31st. Later, it was revealed that Potter had in fact been missing since the night of July 28th. In the testimonies by Potter's aunt and cousin (names withheld), Potter had transported himself out of his home via a whirlwind. However, Ministry magic detectors did not pick up any magic signal that night, so this is viewed as skeptical. More shocking is the revelations about the Boy-Who-Lived's home life.

Potter's uncle had apparently abused the young wizard every time he was at the home. Potter's cousin claims that at first it was only small things, "like a smack or two", but it fast accelerated into serious injuries when the family started to experience troubles. Potter's aunt says that the last time she had seen the boy she had first glance thought him to be dead.

Medical teams, Aurors, and average wizards alike are searching for the wizarding world's savior. Sirius Black has offered one thousand galleons for his godson's safe return. The Ministry of Magic is also offering 750 galleons as a reward for finding Harry Potter as well. We can only hope that we find him soon.

-Daily Prophet senior correspondent Maximillian Waring

"What does this all mean?"

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