"The word for beauty and the word for light is the same."
"Yes, because there is nothing more beautiful to the fey than the light, and so it is reflected in the language. You yourself can feel this, can you not? You may love the moon and the stars, but your power is even greater in the heat of day, and when the sun is high and the clouds few you can nearly vibrate with the power of it. Tell me, are you good with potions?" Hermione nodded, her lips tipping upward in a smile.
"Always one of my favorite subjects in school. I could instinctively see how ingredients would react together and with the metal the cauldron was constructed from. I could brew polyjuice when I was eleven."
"I thought so. All those things come from your affinity with the earth. Your young man will be a fine flier and unparalleled in spellwork, this is the element of air in his blood. The Malfoy line has always been so. They were most suited to the mountain clans who rode dragonback through the high places and built their weirs into the sides of mountains. What is the word for mountain, Hermione?"
And so the lessons went.
