Note: Hope the two afternoons spent editing are showing! Have fun!

As Harry Potter slowly regained consciousness, he discovered himself in an unfamiliar setting—a luxurious private jet. His mind remained hazy, shrouded in a purple haze, but a rising sense of panic gripped him. The realization that he had essentially been kidnapped set his heart pounding and sent shivers down his spine.

His heart pounded as he frantically scanned the surroundings for any sign of escape. He tried to stand up but found himself buckled into the plush leather seat, unable to move freely. The sound of the engines became deafening in his ears, exacerbating his anxiety.

A well-dressed stewardess approached, her friendly smile at odds with Harry's growing fear. "Good to see you awake, Mr. Potter. We're en route to Italy as planned. Is there anything I can get for you?"

Harry's voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes darting around the cabin. "Italy? What do you mean? I never agreed to this! I... I don't even know who you are!"

The stewardess's smile remained professional. "I understand this might be overwhelming for you, Mr. Potter. But please, try to remain calm. You met Fon earlier, and he made the arrangements for this journey." She looked at him with an understanding smile. "It is always a shock the first time it happens. You will get used to it, don't worry."

Harry's mind whirled as memories slowly returned. Fon, the Flame Wielder, his cousin who had explained his dormant power and the need to go to Italy. But even with that knowledge, the sudden reality of being taken away against his will, without a chance to prepare or say goodbye, filled him with a mixture of exasperation and fear.

It probably said a lot about him that he did not even bother to be angry. Stuff like this happened way too regularly in the life of Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice. Also did she just say-

"Get used to it?! The first time?! What-?!"

The stewardess calmly turned around, calling over her shoulder, "I will come back with a drink right away."

Harry spluttered. What was up with this woman? What was up with the whole situation? He uselessly tugged on his seatbelt. As the plane taxied down the runway, Harry could feel the vibrations coursing through his body, a subtle tremor that grew stronger with each passing moment.

As the stewardess returned with a Butterbeer, Harry's confusion only deepened. He took the drink, his hands trembling slightly, and looked at her dumbfounded. "Look, I appreciate the... drink..." He trailed off and stared at the Butterbeer the Muggle just gave him. He never thought he would think those two words in the same sentence. Butterbeer by a Muggle. He shook his head, frustrated. "Can you please explain what's happening? Why am I here? Why was I brought on this plane without my consent?"

The roaring of the engines filled the cabin, drowning out her answer and any stray thoughts. He gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white, as the plane picked up speed. The sensation of acceleration pressed him back into his seat, the force weighing on his chest. He could hear the creaking of the cabin, the faint rattling of overhead compartments, and the occasional muffled thud as luggage shifted. The air seemed thinner, drier, as if sucked out by the sheer velocity of their ascent. It was a symphony of anxious anticipation, a visceral reminder that he was hurtling through the sky, leaving the familiar ground far below.

Noticing Harry's mounting anxiety she quickly reassured him, "Mr. Potter, please try to stay calm. We're taking off now, and we will be in the air shortly. Everything is under control, I assure you."

Despite the stewardess's best efforts, Harry's panic continued to intensify. The combination of the thunderous engine noise and the sudden jolt of the aircraft's movement flooded him. He shut his eyes tightly, desperately attempting to regain control over his racing thoughts.

As the plane picked up speed on the runway, Harry's hands clenched the armrests with a white-knuckled grip. His breath came in short, rapid bursts, and his heart felt as though it would burst out of his chest. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation, but everything felt like a whirlwind.

Just as the aircraft began to lift off the ground, Harry's panic reached its peak. A surge of adrenaline shot through him, and he let out a strangled cry, unable to suppress his fear any longer. His body stiffened, and he pressed himself firmly into the seat, as if trying to anchor himself to safety.

The stewardess, taken aback by Harry's sudden outburst, rushed to his side. She knelt down next to him, speaking with a soothing voice. "Mr. Potter, please, try to breathe. You're safe here. We're just taking off. Everything will be okay."

But Harry's mind was clouded with panic, drowning out her words of reassurance. The previously purple haze was quickly replaced by panicking orange. The roar of the engines, the sensation of the plane lifting off the ground—it all felt too much, too fast. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost all control over his own fate once again.

Red filled his vision and for a moment his heart nearly stopped, before his eyes snapped upwards and met Fons gentle eyes. They were glowing with power, yet as he spoke his voice was soft. "All is well, Harry-san." The red in his vision slowly increased, blowing the orange away like a summer breeze. Taking some of his panic with it.

"Your Flames are very unstable right now." Fon took Harry's trembling hands between his larger ones. "Focus on my voice. Everything is good."

In the background Harry could hear the stewardess chuckling, "Eye of the Storm indeed," before stumbling her way back to her seat. Out of sight and out of hearing range.

Harry's breathing slowed down as he put his full focus on the other man. He appeared completely at ease with himself, not one wrinkle in his sleek tailored suit. "How are you so steady on your feet, while the plane is moving like this?"

Fon chuckled. "Ah, gravity becomes less meaningful if the very air is on your side." Harry stared at him. "Storm Flames, Harry-san. A storm is nothing more than a strong current of wind. In its simplest form wind is the natural movement of air molecules from an area of high pressure to an area of low pressure. " He said it with the air of one used to explaining. Seeing Harry's lost expression, he smiled indulgently. "We will get there. For now it is enough to know that Flames usage is mainly limited by creativity."

"You mean like …?" Magic, Harry wanted to say, but fall he knew he was talking to a Muggle. A Muggle with soul fire and some kind of power over air, but possibly a Muggle anyway. For a moment he wondered if that made any sense at all. Could someone with that kind of power even be considered a Muggle?

Fon gently brushed Harry's hair away from his sweaty brow. "I know about magic, little Sky."

"You do…?"

"I have no magic myself, but I interact with witches and wizards from time to time." He sighed. "Sadly the business with the magicals is flourishing." Apparently he disapproved if the slight turning down of his usual polite smile was any indication. "Sheep will be sheep, no matter what kind of powers they have."

A ping sounded. "Here is your captain, the great Skull-sama, speaking!" A loud voice boomed from the speakers making Harry startle. "We have reached our intended height and have a cloudless sky ahead of us." The man laughed loudly. "Well, cloudless except for the greatest Cloud of all, of course! Hahahaha!" Harry turned a questioning look to Fon, who smiled fondly, obviously knowing the speaker well.

"Now, fluffy Sky, please stay tranquil." The captain burst out into another round of laughter. Apparently having made some kind of pun Harry didn't get. "As a Cloud flying is in my nature, so everything is fine." There was some kind of glee in his voice. "Though…" Skull paused for a moment. "...if you want to switch positions Fon-"

A quick flare of red Flames was apparently answer enough as Skull merely laughed and promised to come by later. A promise that honestly worried Harry. Who would fly the plane then?

Sensing Harry's thoughts, Fon patted his head. „Do not worry, Harry-san. A Cloud will only fall when he wishes to." Harry frowned. „Something about air currents again?"

Fon shook his head. „No, a Cloud chooses its place. Freedom is the very nature of a Cloud." Harry decided he was too polite to point out that that made no sense at all. What were they even talking about at this point?

„Your cousin," there was some undertone in the word cousin, but Harry didn't know Fon well enough to know the meaning. „told you that there were seven Elements named after weather patterns." It was no question so Harry remained quiet. „Cloud Flame users are called Clouds for short. Storm Flame users Storms and so on." He paused and looked towards the cockpit. „Clouds are known to be good pilots. After all, an earthbound Cloud would be a Mist." He chuckled. "Skull is the strongest Cloud in the world. As well as the best pilot I have ever met."

Apparently Skull heard that somehow as his voice came over the speakers again. "Skull-sama is the greatest!" Now Harry had to chuckle too.

Then Fons face turned serious. "I am the strongest Storm." His eyes focused intently on Harrys. Still glowing faintly red, as their Flames around them slowly dissipated. Unnecessary now that Harry was in control again. "And you, Harry-san, are the strongest Sky."

Fons reassuring words and the fascinating insights into Flame Lore, made Harry relax. He found himself gradually becoming more engrossed in the world of Flames and the different Elements. The roaring engines and the plane's movement, which had previously overwhelmed him, became mere background noise as he absorbed Fon's teachings.

Harry's eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and surprise. The intricate dynamics of the Flame Users and their unique attributes fascinated him, making the world of Flames even more intriguing. However, amid the newfound knowledge and the somewhat surreal circumstances, Harry couldn't ignore the fact that he was still essentially a prisoner on this plane, taken away without his consent.

Harry discreetly glanced at Fon, noticing his genuine commitment to enlightening him about the world of Flames. Yet, an unease persisted, casting a shadow on Harry's mind. How could he disregard the fact that he had been forcefully abducted against his will?

Noticing Harry's lingering apprehension, Fon momentarily halted his explanations and locked eyes with him, emanating a sense of understanding. "I understand you have inquiries, Harry-san," he spoke with a gentle yet resolute tone. "However, it is crucial that you trust me for now. There exist circumstances beyond your current knowledge that have led us to this juncture."

Harry felt an impulse to protest, to assert himself and demand answers, yet a part of him recognized the sincerity resonating in Fon's words. There was an undeniable authenticity, an undercurrent of urgency that couldn't be disregarded. Perhaps, for the time being, placing his trust in Fon would be the most prudent choice.

Exhaling heavily, Harry reluctantly nodded, accepting the need to set his questions aside temporarily. The imperative of surviving this predicament took precedence over all else. However, within the depths of his being, a flicker of determination ignited, fueling his resolve to uncover the answers he yearned for.

From the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of the remaining red glow of Fon's Flames enveloping them in a protective shield. Its ethereal presence was so delicate that Harry sensed it more than he saw it, yet it emanated a gentle warmth that permeated his otherwise frigid body, eliciting a shiver.

"Sound waves travel through air," Fon noted, his tone sounding neutral, but Harry could swear there was a gleam of smug satisfaction in his eyes. The Storm took a seat opposite Harry, and the shield moved with him to continue surrounding them.

"I trust everyone on this plane," Fon stated firmly, his gaze unwavering. "Especially Skull. But in this particular situation, it's wise to exercise additional caution." He looked down at Harry's hand, which was still clasped in his own. Harry felt a slight urge to pull away, but Fon's grip remained gentle yet firm. Fon turned Harry's hand over, palm facing upward, and produced a small red Flame with his other hand, holding it just above Harry's upturned hand.

"While I can't reveal everything to you, especially not yet, as there are still unknowns even for me," Fon spoke with a touch of hesitation, "there are certain things I can share." He momentarily extinguished the red sound barrier and released Harry's hand, making his way to the cockpit. "One moment," he said before disappearing inside, leaving Harry perplexed and wondering what was happening.

Fon's sudden departure left Harry feeling a mix of curiosity and concern. As Fon disappeared from sight, Harry couldn't help but wonder what he had gone off to do. Why would Fon leave him alone in such a precarious situation? His mind raced with questions, seeking answers in the uncertain silence that surrounded him. However, deep down, Harry trusted Fon's judgment and knew there had to be a reason for his departure. Moments stretched into what felt like an eternity as Harry anxiously awaited Fon's return. Finally, with relief flooding through him, Fon reappeared, accompanied by, who he assumed to be Skull-sama. His lips quirked at the name. How ironic for him to be completely depended on the flying skills of someone calling himself Skull of all things. He assumed Fon had left to retrieve Skull as an extra safety precaution. The sight of Skull's presence reassured Harry, even if he was unsure why.

Both men settled in chairs opposite him as he took the time to study the new arrival. The man was dressed in vibrant purple attire, his face adorned with multiple piercings. The man's face radiated childlike glee and kindness, immediately putting Harry at ease. "I am Skull-sama, your captain," the man declared with a mischievous grin, causing Harry to instinctively glance towards the front of the plane. Skull chuckled and reassured him, "The co-pilot has taken over."

Fon settled back into his seat, Skull taking the one next to it, and the sonic barrier was restored, effectively shielding them from external disturbances. Sensing Harry's unspoken question, Fon provided an explanation. "Skull serves as an additional precaution. As a Cloud, his Flame attribute is Propagation." He gestured towards Skull, who gave a playful salute in response. "He can influence our Flames directly or indirectly depending on necessity. The direct approach would be for him to multiply his own Flame enough to push yours down if they become too unstable."

Harry stared disbelievingly at the purple haired man, who had a power that sounded so versatile it sounded like cheating. He was dressed in a leather jacket and wore makeup. Skull ruffled his own hair ruefully. "The great Skull-sama has many talents." He proclaimed proudly. Fon added with a neutral tone, "He also tends to hurt himself often."

"Hurt myself?!" Skull exclaimed, scandalized. His arms waved wildly in the air to emphasize his point. "I am doing stunts! Professional stunts! That is completely different from hurting myself, Fon!"

"He finished his medical degree a few years ago." Fon continued as if Skull had never spoken.

"That was completely reasonable! I swear, that one nurse had it out for me. She always wrapped me up more than necessary." He whined. "I looked like a Mummy."

Harry fixed him with a disbelieving stare. "You made a medical degree, because you hurt yourself while doing stunts and because a nurse wrapped you more than you liked afterwards?"

"See?! The fluffy Sky understands Skull-sama!" He struck a pose, practically oozing self-confidence and smugness. Harry sweatdropped.

Fon brought the Flame closer to Harry's hand, redirecting his attention, while not touching yet. "If everything goes right, his medical expertise will be unnecessary." He fixed Harry with a serious look. "What your cousin did was dangerous for multiple reasons, but the main problem was that he is neither trained enough nor knowledgeable enough about Flame Lore or medicine to be anywhere near you. Not to mention what he tried to do to you."

Harry tilted his head in confusion. He was unaware his cousin had done anything beside speaking. Well, there was that one moment when he had shown Harry his Flame, but that could not have been that bad, right? He did not do anything with it, right?

"I am going to push my Storm Flames into you." Fon said. "You have felt them before as I helped you calm by disintegrating the excess amount of your Flames that were out of your control. Back in the house and when the plane started." Harry nodded in understanding, despite still struggling slightly with the whole concept that were Flames.

"Now though I am going to use them to show you your own Flames. That should help answer some of your questions." The hand holding his palm squeezed gently. "If you want to stop early, you need to let me know."

If it would get him some answers in the confusing mess that seemed to be his life now, Harry was ready. Though he had to admit this was the nicest kidnapping he had experienced so far. Certainly treated him better than Voldemort or Mr. Malfoy. A shiver went down his spine as he reflexively tensed.

"Ready?" Fon asked, effectively disrupting Harry's sinister thoughts.

"Yup!" Skull peeped in, leaning forward in his seat. Despite his light tone of voice, his eyes held a slight undertone of purple. His eyes gleamed with a firm determination and readiness that calmed Harry's frayed nerves. So Harry nodded.

Fon's Flame touched Harry's palm and his world went up in colors. His eyes closed automatically to focus better. The red glow of Fon's Storm Flames slowly spread from his hand up his arm. It was soft and gentle. Nudging here and there with the gentleness of a butterfly wing. Going up his elbow and then his upper arm, like a warm summer breeze. Providing slight relieve from the harsh cold that he was normal nowadays.

Harry could feel the fierce storm beneath the surface. Harsh and destructive winds, ready to destroy and rip in firm protectiveness lurking just beneath the surface. Held back by control of steel. It felt like the calm before the storm, no, it was the eye of the storm.

The Flame reached his head. It paused there and curiously hovered around his scar. He flinched when it made contact. It hurt, but before he could even groan, the Flame drew back. It cautiously circled the scar and spread through the rest of his head. Softly warming it and making him breath out a sight of relief.

Then it went down his throat, gently circling it. The image of a cat rubbing its fur against him involuntarily popped up in his head and he chuckled. The Flames around his neck intensified and "rubbed" more firmly against him, pleased. It made him think of scales than. A mighty dragon.

Some tendrils of the Storm Flames went down his other arm, warming it slightly and making his fingers tingle. Like the skin slowly gaining blood back after being exposed to the cold for too long. A fitting feeling in Harry's opinion.

While the tendrils were busy the main outage of Flames slowly went down his upper body. Systematically avoiding his chest region. Most of it stilled in his stomach, while some of it kept going downwards, until even his toes felt slightly warmer.

Then all the Storm flames focused on his chest region. Following their guidance Harry could see his magical core. Bumping magic through his whole body. For a moment he was mesmerized by it, but then he frowned. something was off about it. It had dark spots in some parts that seemed rotten and sick. Harry nearly gagged.

Before he could dwell too much on it though, the Storm Flames guided him further. Deeper into himself, into who he was. Into a haze of orange, giving him the feeling of home and acceptance. For a moment he thought it was this, that Fon wanted to show him, but he guided him further to the center of what appeared to be a ball of power.

Just like his magical core, though, it felt off. There were strands of different colors leading away from it that were broken or rotten. Green flashes, the color of the killing curse, kept striking it. The most horrifying part for Harry though were the lines of killing curse green cutting through the connection between his, he would call it Flame core, and his body. Each time a connection was disrupted it turned rotten, icy cold. It would recover slowly then be struck again. The most strikes happened around the broken bonds. The connection to his own body nearly completely disrupted there. Only faint tendrils of orange were able to pass through the thunderstorm that surrounded it.

The tendrils that were still intact kept getting consumed by bursts of orange, sometimes passing harmlessly and sometimes disrupting the whole flow due to being overloaded. This caused a chain reaction of other tendrils bursting. The Flame core tried to heal itself, pulling on his magic to help, but stuck in a chain reaction that kept repeating himself.

A purple Flame joined them, startling Harry. It tugged on the Storm Flames, mingling with them and suddenly the red Flames flared brighter. Disintegrating some of the orange haze surrounding it.

Then the Cloud Flames slowly dragged them away. Harry's focus followed them through the orange haze that was apparently his Sky Flames. They were so bright and welcoming. Such a contrast to the icy coldness that spread through the struck tendrils. A flare of the purple Flames caused him to refocus. The Flames led him back out his chest and up into his head. There it danced around the scar again before blowing downwards towards his arm. When it reached his palm, Harry blinked.

He was lying on the floor, his head cradled in Skulls lap. He met Skull's gaze, his eyes were glowing a firm purple. They were blazing with determination. It made his throat dry up and his breath hitch.

A soft rustle drew his attention away from the mesmerizing sight. Fon was on the floor too, his hand that had held the Flame firmly in Skull's grasp.

"What…?" Harry croaked.

Fon gently tugged his hand free from Skull's tight grip. "Well," he said, his own tone slightly hoarse. "That is why precautions are good." He turned towards Skull. "Thank you." The purple eyed man did not react, eyes still firmly focused on Harry, glowing and pulsing with purple Flames. Drawing his attention and keeping them locked on the dance of Cloud Flames he could see in his eyes. Despite his light-hearted personality, these eyes spoke of power and determination of steel. Harry gulped.

Fon stood up and held out a hand to Harry, though he stopped when Skull snarled softly. The purple glow intensified. Fon frowned. "Instead of directly empowering his own Flames, he indirectly helped me overcome your Sky attraction by propagating, or to be more specific multiplying, my own Flames. This allowed me to use my Storm Flames, which had already been strained by disintegrating as much of the excess Sky Flames in your body as possible, to recover." He glanced at Skull. "It seems he got hit by too much of the Sky Attraction instead."

He took a step back and away from them, putting some distance between him and Skull. The purple light in the man's eyes slightly dimmed. "He currently sees my Flames as a threat to you." He took another measured step back and Skull's eyes followed him like a predator. "It is a pure instinctual reaction of an Unbonded Element to a weakened Sky." Another step back. Fons hands were outside of the long sleeves he liked to hide them in. It quietened the snarling from the Cloud. "Especially one without a single proper bond." He glanced at Harry. "You saw them." Harry could only nod.

The mere thought made Harry shiver. Thankfully the cold was somewhat contained due to Fons efforts. It was nice being able to feel warm, even if it was only for a short period of time.

"What were they?" He whispered, carefully sitting up, making sure to not aggravate the bristling Cloud further. "They looked…The Flame Core was…" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

Fon nodded understandingly. "We will talk about it later. For now let's focus on Skull."

He could only agree, he felt overcome by the situation. Focusing on the immediate problem suited him just fine. His mind was still a bit foggy from the experience anyway. The Cloud Flames that kept flickering over Skull's body and playfully nudged on, what he now knew were his Sky Flames, wasn't helping either.

Harry sighed. "How do we…?" He trailed off, helplessly gesturing towards Skull.

Fon put one sleeve over his mouth, ignoring the slight snarl the movement caused from Skull, and chuckled. "Well, there is an easy way…" He said and Harry could suddenly feel dread pull in his stomach.