Harry Potter & the Four Elements

Chapter 1 – The Lion, the Witch, & the Phoenix

The silence was deafening.

Time passed – slowly but not without fault or regret. The passage of time over the summer months had seemed to live on longer than it should have. Sunset and sunrises were inevitably longer while Hogsmead and the surrounding areas continued to become prepared for the coming of Lord Voldemort. The darkening skies that plagued Diagon Alley were just the beginning. People cowered in fear and didn't talk amongst themselves in the streets. Every day fewer and fewer people were shopping in the small shops and staying at home – waiting for the day to arrive when existence would cease.

The Ministry of Magic was constantly on guard – reaching out to everyone they could. The Aurors patrolled while other departments of the Ministry did what they could in order to calm everyone. It was no use. Even their nerves were at an end. How could anyone settle with the final battle quickly approaching? Voldemort was just patiently biding his time and waiting for the day to destroy the Chosen One – Harry Potter.

It was in a small darkened room where the last of the nightly meetings being held would end. It was on this night that the matters that they had been discussing would come to a resolution.

The room was in a small house at an undisclosed location in a tiny Muggle village on the outskirts of London. Only the select few were chosen and only the select few were granted the privilege of knowing where the meeting was being held. Along cobbled streets and through tiny alleyways, the Chosen made their way – each taking a different path to arrive at their destination so that they wouldn't be followed. Street lanterns and the stars above illuminated the walkway and the path they needed to take. The echoes of their feet could be heard from miles around in the abnormally silent night air. 1718 was barely etched on the mahogany door. The silver knocker was worn and falling apart. The windows were grimy and cobwebs were being spun in the corners by lingering spiders trying to get a decent night's snack.

One-by-one the Chosen entered the house – undistinguishable by Muggles but recognizable by who needed to recognize the house and them. The spells that protected the house would only last the night, but it would be enough time. As the last of the Chosen entered, the house shimmered from sight, being replaced by another not to raise any suspicion from passersby.

There was no time to look in the other vacant rooms as the Chosen entered. No snacks were prepared and no drinks were to be served. The matter of urgency was needed as they each strode into the den upon their arrival. There would be no time for chatting as on many other occasions. There was no time for debating or wondering about the newest Quidditch match. The night served one purpose and one purpose only. There was no room to waver from the specified decision.

Dozens of candles illuminated the room – making it seem enchanted and mysterious. Wax dripped off of the candles as the wicks were close to being extinguished. The house had been waiting for the Chosen for some time and preparations were made in accordance to the instructions given days before the scheduled arrival.

A large round table sat in the middle of the room. Rolls of parchment, quills, and bottles of ink sat near each of the twelve chairs. Much like the Knights of the Roundtable, the twelve Chosen would make immediate decisions that were intricate to the safety of the Chosen One. Each knew their significant role and each knew the importance of their decision. The parchments were merely there so that they may cast their votes in secrecy. If one doubted the other, there was no room for anyone to second guess who it was that made their decision and why.

Toward the back of the room sat a single chair. No table and no parchment were laid out for the individual who would sit in the chair. They would be close enough to hear the proceedings but they would have no say in how the decision would be made. It was almost like a throne – tall and full of history. The etchings in the wood were undistinguishable by the ordinary but readable by the select. It was a chair made for the special and tonight would seat the one that the Chosen needed.

The Chosen were higher than the Ministry. They were higher than any wizard and witch. They possessed special powers that no one could match. They were the strong, the brave, and the special group that allowed life and death to matter when they had the choice to do so.

On this night, the Chosen had gathered to appoint a special position. Voldemort was on every mind while the protection of those they served hung high in the air. But it was one that they had discussed all summer. It was one that they held in the highest regard. It was one that needed their protection above all.

Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived. It was his life that they needed to protect. They could no longer sit back and watch the upcoming battle slowly come to the boy. Voldemort could not complete his prophecy. There was no room for mistake or disillusionment. They had to save the boy from being the pawn in Voldemort's game. His friends and family could no longer be relied upon. They knew it was time that they took matters into their own hands.

Silence hung in the air like a tomb. The eleven members of the Chosen sat solemn, each noticing the empty chair at the table and the emptiness left from the missing twelfth member. One of the house-elves took the parchment, quill, and bottle of ink away without saying a word or needing instructions to do so. Nothing needed to be said. Each of the Chosen knew that the member would never return. His mission had failed, but he had sacrificed his life for the boy that needed to be saved. Albus Dumbledore would be missed, but his memory would not be forgotten. It was in his memory that they had convened several times over the summer. It was his dedication to Harry Potter that had allowed them to pursue his actions to save the Boy-Who-Lived.

"If I may, Chancellor, say a few words on Albus's behalf?" asked a man seated near the door to the room.

The man stood – taller than any of the others. His dark skin was marked with different symbols and images. He was from the far reaches of the globe and one of the higher ranking members of the Chosen. Jeddah Bauble was one of the most talented witches in the world. His flowing jade green robes matched his eyes. Chocolate-colored hair hung loosely about his face. The jeweled rings he wore didn't distract anyone from his demeanor. He was courageous and courteous but would not lay down for anyone if it even meant taking his own life. Everyone in the Chosen knew him to be a man of his word but as of late his style was faltering. The thought of Voldemort was growing increasingly close to him and the memories he tried to conceal. And now that his lifelong friend had died, he had nothing left to strive for.

Bauble looked about the room and focused on the figure seated in the lone chair toward the back of the room. His eyes settled on the figure – letting it be the strength he needed to speak.

"Albus had been a close friend, a colleague that had taught me everything I know today. He was a mentor and a man who was worthy of any position within the Ministry. It is because of him that we are gathered here tonight. It is because of him that I make it my lifelong mission to make sure that Voldemort is destroyed."

"I believe that is all of our ambitions, Jeddah," said a voice on the opposite side of the table. "We still all mourn the loss of Albus Dumbledore. No doubt that many wish to revenge his death."

"Of that I am certain, Chancellor." Bauble quietly sat down as the figure that had spoken to him stood.

The golden mane was the first that many onlookers would notice. A lion's head sat upon a human body but seemed no different than anyone else seated at the round table. The Chancellor of the Chosen, Sphinx, was a rare wizard with the head of a lion but the heart of a man. His almost black eyes could frighten a child but bewitch a fellow wizard. He was well-respected and well-trusted amongst his colleagues. He was dressed like most wizards with flowing golden robes and the crest of his family with ivy wrapped around a lion's head and a pyramid looming in the background. His home of Egypt was far away from where he was tonight. This was his second home; amongst people he admired and trusted. It was his duty to make sure that the Chosen would carry on with or without their beloved friend.

"Tonight cannot be one of mourning," Sphinx continued as he looked about the room. "Tonight Albus would want us to decide on the one thing that we have been discussing all summer. Soon Harry Potter's birthday will be upon us and he will no longer be safe at the Dursley's house. From what we have been told by friends, Harry has no desire to return to Hogwarts. We must convince him otherwise."

There were blank stares and whispers amongst the Chosen. The task would not be easy. Each knew the stubbornness of Harry Potter when he deemed it necessary. He would continue on with the prospect of finding Voldemort on his own and destroying himself in the process. This path could not be the path that was chosen. Harry Potter needed protection and help. There were still many lessons needed before he could venture out and face the man that killed his parents. Harry Potter would have to be convinced that he would be better off at Hogwarts.

"In order to do so, Hogwarts must be reopened," Sphinx said with all eyes looking at him. "There is no way about it. The children that attend Hogwarts would be safer within its halls rather than out in the open. Most parents will see it that way."

"But it's dangerous to put innocent lives where Voldemort is sure to go," contradicted a stout women seated near Bauble. Her cerulean blue robes seemed to swallow her as she sat slouched in her seat.

"She's right, Sphinx," agreed another taller woman to the left of Sphinx. The white robes she wore made her seem angelic. "We're casting more trouble by putting these children near the Potter boy."

Sphinx raised his large hands and silenced the group seated before him. The conclusion he had come to needed to be enacted right away. With delay there would be growing concerns and problems. There was no other choice. Harry Potter needed to be within the confines of Hogwarts without being questioned.

"Albus would have wanted Harry Potter safe." It was the simple statement that needed to be made. The only thing left to do was to protect the Boy-Who-Lived.

Sphinx began to walk around the table – looking at the solemn faces. There wasn't a member of the Chosen that would back down if the need arose. They would raise their wands high and unite as one. Underneath a darkening sky, the Chosen would fight as one and die as one. Each had taken the vow long before Harry Potter was born. To fight and die for the cause is what they would do. Now it was to protect the children who attended Hogwarts in order for their generations to survive.

"There is no doubting that what you say is true," Bauble said, reassuring Sphinx's statement. "Hogwarts is the safest place for the children to reside. The question is: with Dumbledore gone, who will protect the children and the Chosen One?"

The Chancellor stood behind Bauble and rested his hands on the back of the chair. Bauble didn't turn to look at the leader of the Chosen, but instead looked directly in front of him. The figure seated in the large throne-like chair shifted uncomfortably under the stares that suddenly turned to it. In the darkness the figure hid, hoping that it wouldn't be seen or needed. The time had come where the figure would make its presence known. Dumbledore would have wanted it that way and the figure knew it.

"Many years our dear friend has stayed in hiding. Under the careful eye of the best teachers in the world, our friend has been taught things no one else has. Our friend has traits as a wizard, a witch, and many other magical traits needed for the task at hand." Sphinx smiled warmly as he stood up straight and looked at the figure. "Albus trained you for this task if the need ever arose. Now is your time to take your place. Hogwarts needs you. Harry Potter needs you."

The figure stood slowly – hands grasping the arms of the chair to keep the strength needed to venture forth. The candlelight flickered and seemed to dance toward the figure at the back of the room – giving the light needed to reveal who it was. A long, flowing blood red gown trailed behind the figure as it stepped into the golden light.

The members of the Chosen gasped as the figure revealed itself. The figure now revealed had everyone understanding that the myth was real. The figure wasn't of their imaginations any longer.

She stood tall, letting the dress straighten itself out as she moved from the chair. Her golden skin shimmered in the light and her copper-colored eyes glimmered as the flames continued to dance on her body. Her bronze-colored hair hung loosely about her bare shoulders. The blood red bodice dress hugged her body snuggly – letting her curves show beneath the fabric. She knew that the Chosen was a special group and didn't want to dress in her normal garb. Formal wear was a must but now she thought she might have gone beyond what she needed to impress them with.

"Isis, I know you have suffered a great deal," Sphinx said, nearly above a whisper. "We can have no idea the pain you must feel."

Isis left her clenched fists near her sides as she bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Sphinx. I am sure everyone feels the loss of Albus. I am no different."

Sphinx moved toward Isis, letting the members speak amongst themselves. No one knew of the pain Isis was feeling. It was hers and hers alone. He never could imagine feeling the loss that she did now. His hand grasped her shoulder as he stepped beside her. She couldn't meet his gaze and he never expected her to.

"You know what I ask of you," he said simply. "You know the importance and the weight this task carries."

She merely nodded and let her hair mask the sorrow in her eyes. "I do."

"The most important task right now is to convince Harry Potter to return to Hogwarts."

Isis looked at Sphinx, brushing away the tears that lingered and had somehow fallen down her cheeks. She didn't fear the thought of dying to protect a boy she merely heard about. The fear that resided within her was her failure of convincing him that he needed to return to the scene of his greatest loss to date.

"I put the decision to a vote," Sphinx said, before Isis could speak. "With your roll of parchment…"

Bauble stood and looked at Isis. "We don't need parchment, Chancellor. We will put this decision to a vote, verbally. All those in favor of reopening Hogwarts say 'I do'."

The eleven members agreed by saying 'I do' simultaneously. Isis's stomach clenched knowing that she was a step closer to her task.

"All those in favor of Isis becoming the new headmaster say 'I do'."

Again, 'I do' echoed in the small room. Instead of the candlelight becoming dimmer as the wicks grew smaller, the room became more illuminated. Even the room knew the importance of what was to become.

"It is settled," Sphinx said, addressing the Chosen members. "Hogwarts will return and Isis will become its sole protector."

Each of the members stood – one-by-one. Nine members once seated at the table showed their acknowledgement to Isis by slightly bowing and leaving the room. There were no words that needed to be spoken. Each had shown that they trusted her and what needed to be done.

Sphinx remained by Isis's side as the door silently shut behind the last member of the Chosen. He noticed the look of fear in Isis's eyes as she began to realize what had been bestowed upon her.

"You fear he will say no."

Isis looked at him and nodded. "It is a distinct possibility. He was adamant about not returning this year. Mr. Weasley saw fit to tell me everything that has been happening from the correspondents that his son has received. Harry has been under my eye since he left Hogwarts last year."

He nodded as he separated himself from Isis. She needed her distance to decide her best course of action. "You are more prepared for this assignment than you think."

Isis knew she was. She moved toward the large window and looked out. Rain was gently taping against the pane. It was as if the sky was crying for her. Ever since Dumbledore had passed she had not had time to mourn for him. She was looking toward the sky for some sort of sign from him, but had received none. Maybe it was his tears left on the glass for her to wipe them away. There were too many things that needed to be done and she had no time to do them in. She was growing weaker from lack of sleep and lack of nourishment. She was required for much larger tasks than what the Chosen had asked her to do. It was her duty above all to do those first and protect Harry second. She knew that Dumbledore would want her to keep him safe, but there was still the lingering dread that he wouldn't listen to her.

"I have a friend that might be able to help you," Sphinx said from the darkness. "He is a man that Harry Potter knows quite well. You should have no problem reaching him with this man beside you."

She knew the man he spoke of. Remus Lupin had become a close friend of hers over the years. It was through him and through Dumbledore that she had learned about Harry. She knew that Lupin would give her a fighting chance of convincing Harry to return to Hogwarts.

"Remus is a close friend," Isis assured him. "I will contact him as soon as possible."

Sphinx merely nodded as he opened the door. "This house is yours until you are ready to complete your first task. Set, my owl, will be at your beck and call when you need to send correspondence to me." There was a sad tone in his voice as he continued. "Albus would be proud."

Isis listened to the door close as he left her with those haunting parting words.

Albus would be proud.

A single tear trickled down her cheek. She heard the fluttering of wings and turned to see a large bird sitting in the middle of the table. The fire engine red feathers were all the indication she needed to know who was left of the Chosen. Although Fawkes was a bird – he was a sacred bird. The phoenix wasn't a legend as much as Muggles had cared to believe. The phoenix had healing abilities that had saved quite a few wizards in her lifetime. The thought of a bird dying in fire and being reborn in ash was preposterous to some but a reality to her. He had become a close friend and ally and now the only remaining reminder of Dumbledore.

Fawkes took flight and perched himself on Isis's shoulder. He gently brushed his head along her cheek and wiped away the tear. She smiled slightly at the gesture and rested her head on his. Their reflection in the window showed the sadness that she felt inside of her. It was Fawkes that gave her the strength to succeed in her task. He was the link that tied her to Dumbledore and the will of the man she held in high regard. She would do these tasks for him. She would sacrifice her life in order to save the Boy-Who-Lived.

It was Fawkes's turn to shed a tear. It fell upon her hot skin and disappeared. If Fawkes thought it would heal her broken heart, he had found the one thing he couldn't heal. It would take an eternity for her to move past the loss of Albus Dumbledore. But for now, she would move onto making sure that Harry Potter stayed alive.