The second element, he teaches, is water.
The pool beyond the mill wheel, clear and brown like warm weak tea, where decaying leaves twist and curl upon the eddies. Lithe, mud slicked bodies, russet hair in the dappled sunlight.
Dormitory windows that open above a lake. Surface of ripleless obsidian, chill beneath the guardian moon. A breath, a plunge. His limbs, suddenly graceful, beaded with green-gold phosphorescence like spun glass.
Together, the two men heft Caradoc's body. Ice shatters with a report like gunfire. Water fountains up, showering him with splintered ice.
Water is Lily, Hogwarts, and the second murder.
