Whoa.it's kinda like describing someone really stoned.Not that I've ever been. But it seems like he is.but he isn't.okay then.

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Harry knew the second he thought about invoking it that it had been a mistake. He could feel the whole in his mind sealing opening up. As the red vines of fire element pours into his mind, completely raw and scalding him he convulsed. It burned like nothing he'd ever felt before.

'The fires of hell burn within him' a voice whispered monotonously eerie in his head as he screamed silently. No sound came out, but his throat was bleeding with the screams of pain. He felt like magma was searing through his body. It was worse pain that he had ever felt before. Worse than the Cruciatus Curse. Liquid flames coursed through his veins. It felt like an eternity. His mind was throbbing; pounding; smashing; slashing. Like Hell itself was cracking open to swallow him whole.

Then suddenly it stopped. It was cooled by a supernatural breeze. Wind washed through Harry, quailing the waves of heated agony. His body whistled with the sound of the pounding wind. He felt like an ocean breeze. White ropes coiled around him, spinning him in the air, before letting him drift noiselessly to the ground. He fell gently against the carpeted wooden from of the boys dorm. His body was limp and his breath was even.

Harry felt as if he was floating. The powers brimming within him made him feel full and radiating. His flesh glowed a steady tingling colour of light purple, the combined colours of his elements.

Everything suddenly seemed clear to him. Exactly what he had to do. It was as if a vortex of meaning was calling to him. He drifted down the stairs of his dorm. His feverish state was gone. He was Elements. That's all. Small ripples of Harry possessed him, but only a few traces were found in his depths. He couldn't remember how he had become four. He just was. He didn't exist. Time was of no Essence. He had all of the time in the world. Time was his.

The grass tickled Harry's feet, whispering things in his ear. He couldn't understand. He longed for it. None came to him. He needed earth to complete it. He didn't feel the same longing; desire for it though. It was not important.

As Harry neared the shore of the Lake a myriad of songs came into his mind. The Water crashed on the sandy shoreline. It was amplified in his mind, crashing against his skull with three times the impact of reality. The water whistled to him. Singing through him. The tender humming buzzed through his veins, he was tingling all over him. It was like being greeted by a family. He longed to join the waves. They recognized him as one of them. They wondered why he was on Earth. And in Air. He was one of them.

His Sister wind skipped over the waves of his closest brother, water, with whom he was one, and beckoned him to fly. To sail into the nothingness of the wind. It twisted and snaked around him, enveloping him in a chasm of desire. He could not be pulled from the water. He was a combination of three of the four elements. He was an element. Images of fire, water, wind and earth flashed through his mind. Black spots followed the suite, filling his brain with blackness. Life.

He was the element of life. Earth, Water, Wind, Fire, Life. The five elements.

Two figures in one stepped out from behind of a tree. Harry couldn't tell who it was. He could only see the steady pulsing tanned yellow and some copper. Some part of Harry; the Real Harry, remembered it was matching the colour of his scar. Harry's hand, controlled by Harry, not the elements lifted to his forehead, he gently brushed his scar. It tingled. He could feel. He was life. Everything was life. He wielded the powers. He held the elements. They were for him to use. Not to use him.

Without thinking much, Harry raised his fingers, pointing at Voldemort. Ron. He was to kill Ron. Voldemort was inside of Ron's Mind. Harry could tell from where he was that Ron was in danger of being shut out of his own mind forever. Harry knew the feeling of the emptiness of drifted from mind to mind. To be in eternal emptiness would be miserable. Would be hell.

The combined colours of Wind; White, Fire; Red, Water; Blue and Life; Bright Green roped together and shot out at Ron and Voldemort. Harry sent his mind with it. As the elements hit Voldemort, Harry's mind pryed into Ron's For an instant he felt the sheer and utter scalding pain of Voldemort sub zero, freezing blackness. He pulled Ron's mind from Voldemort's blackness. They shot away. Harry, his mind still moulded onto Ron's, Entered back into his own body. He became conscious of the vents. The roominess of his mind and body seemed to deafen him. Silence filled him. Even with Ron in him he couldn't fill the nothing.

A swirling of darkness, only audible from the blackening of the stars