This is just two insane little ideas that wouldn't stop bugging me last night while I was trying to sleep. Sorry if it's a little scatterbrained or hard to understand. I think I already mentioned my lack of sleep therefore my mind skills right now are not very stellar.
Disclaimer: Really?
Elemental Friends
One of the only untouched rooms after the Battle of Hogwarts was always a sanctuary of four. Four people had access to it and it had four walls, four chairs, four doors and, essentially, four different color schemes.
On this particular night, two nights after the battle, just after all had been accounted for, Minerva McGonagall sat in the large burgundy chair in the south section of the room, staring at the flames of a fire she had created in the glass bowl on the center table. To an onlooker it would have looked as if she was grieving. And she was. But her friends could tell past that. Her friends knew she was searching the flames for a deeper meaning. It always works for her, yet no one else.
Now as the clock tower chimed midnight, someone else entered the room and Minerva was drawn away from her flames. In the west doorway was a disheveled Xiomara Hooch, more disheveled than usual. Her normally yellow hawk eyes glowed blue and Minerva knew her own eyes were glowing orange. Xiomara held a confident state as she filled one of the remaining glass bowls on the table with water, wandlessly and wordlessly. She held this state until standing in front of Minerva and collapsing in front of her friend's arms.
"He's gone! He sent him in there and he's gone! Killed. Murdered! He's gone," she sobbed. Minerva rubbed her friend's back.
"As is mine Mara. We've lost them but they are always with us. I've no doubt he will be fretting over you endlessly while you are separated for the time being. He will protect you and love you always," she murmured though she also wished she could cry. He was gone. He had been for a while now. He was gone and finally, with the war over and casualties counted it finally sunk in. A tear escaped her eyes.
Finally Xiomara was able to return to her own chair, the large silver leather recliner on the south side, and together the woman stared into the depths of their elements, looking for answers that, the harder they searched for, the less likely it seemed they would find. The north door chose the moment of the clock chiming one in the morning to open and reveal Pomona Sprout. Pomona wordlessly entered and filled her own glass bowl with earth. Only dirt now, like her friends, she wasn't in the mood for something more tricky, challenging or exciting. She sat in her chair and stared at her glass looking for an answer, the one that would prove it wasn't a waste, with her friends. It became too much, in too short a time and she collapsed into the arms of her consoling friends, sobbing much the same as Xiomara had earlier.
"He left me. It was Dolohov. He did it. And I repaid him. But he is still gone." Despite what confusion a outsider could receive from 'he' they all knew who it was they were talking about, who they were crying over and who they would never see again. This soon had them all crying, hugging each other for the support they knew the others could and would provide.
At two in the morning they were found this way, as the final door, the east door, opened. Poppy Pomfrey entered, condensing the air into a final glass bowl. She took her three friends in her arms and one by one, returned them to their chairs. They soon straightened, grabbed hands and each recited their line.
"I am the one with the Air, the breath of life. From the East I receive clarity, which becomes ideas."
"I am the one with the Fire, the passions of life. From the South I receive passion, which becomes activities."
"I am the one with the Water, the flow that connects all life. From the West I receive emotion, which becomes responsibility."
"I am the one with the Earth, the giver of life. From the North I receive stability, which becomes accomplishment."
Together they recited:
"We are the ones with the Spirit, the understander of life. From the Center we receive answers, which become clarity, passion, emotion and stability. Give us these answers."
Their eyes flew open, glowing brightly and trained on the crystal bowl in the center if the table, the largest and most ornate by far. Empty space seemed to glow white and formed images. They all gasped, each managing one word.
"Severus."
"Albus."
"Filius."
"Horace."
The four men spoke together, to their loved ones. "Everything happened the way it happened. There are no answers for this question. Just an unidentifiable mess of grief. You may not have us now but we love you always and you have each other. Take care, my love." They disappeared and the energy of the small room died down. The woman accepted what their husbands' words meant. It meant they were to carry on without forgetting and without grieving for too long. They accepted this and moved on.
Xiomara began to fool with the water in her bowl, making it rise and fall and attack the fire in Minerva's. Soon the four were involved in a full out battle, teasing and laughing without really hurting each other. After what seemed like a few minutes to the women but was really hours, they all collapsed in their chairs.
"You know, I love you guys," Poppy said breathlessly.
"Same here, no matter how many migraines I get over you three," Minerva said smiling.
"Why wouldn't I love you three?" Pomona questioned.
"Hey you guys were there for me, I'm there for you and it's not going to change," Rolanda smiled.
And they hugged, a cacoon of white light surrounding the four elementals.
So there it is. The little elemental speech is something from the Gaiaist Wicca. Look it up if you want the real unedited version.
Please review. It would make me feel better and convince me that this isn't an entirely worthless idea.
~DancingWithRoses