Weakness
Of all the elements, Nature is the strongest. Nature is life. It is in everything, and everyone. For proof, the master just has to watch the Nature host around their element.
Plants will bloom and thrive in the dead of winter. They will come to their defense at a moment’s notice, without a thought on the host’s part. Without even trying, their influence is far reaching.
Animals will find them in the most desolate surroundings. Even the most submissive of Nature’s host has incredible power. Always,always they will be someone who holds life as their highest regard. The protection of life no matter who it belongs to. They are loath to take a life unless they must.
They are not unable to, however, as death is a part of life, but it will never be their first instinct.
Above all else, they need nature. It’s their life. To be Separated from it will cause them to sicken. Before the mating, it will cause them to die.
Nature is the most delicate of hosts. While the others are strengthened by being surrounded by their element, only Nature requires it to survive.
Do not keep them from it, no matter how angry you become. No matter how much you wish to punish, or reprimand them, Do Not separate them from their life.
Salvius Slytherin, 780
~~~
All of the hosts, pre-claiming, have their weaknesses that have nothing to do with their ability to control the element within them.
Air’s is an overload of the senses. Wind carries noises, sounds, conversations farther than they might be heard otherwise. Wind is loud. It can knock them senseless, and incapacitate them. While they cannot die from this, it is not pleasant for the host. Claiming them quiets this and allows them to pick and choose when they wish the wind to carry things to them.
Water’s is being dry. As was discovered by Saudrel’s Water when she evaded him for three months by vanishing into the desert. Water’s host will dry out if kept away from their element for too long. Like Nature, this can kill them. Unlike Nature, this weakness seems to fade once they’ve been claimed.
Nature’s is the inability to survive without some connection to their element. Unlike water, they can survive approximately a month before the separation can kill them. Also unlike the other hosts, claiming them does not negate this particular weakness, though it can lengthen the time they can survive to approximately two months. Contact with other humans seems to alleviate this somewhat, but not enough to continue their survival.
Fire’s is their inability to stand the cold. One would think that with the natural heat at their fingertips that the first thing they’d do would be to warm themselves. Apparently, this requires a level of control that’s only granted after the master has claimed them. This weakness is not life threatening, though it does slow the host down, and makes them more likely to miss things going on around them. And, like most people outside of their preferred temperature range, they are more likely to complain.
Sigbehrt Slytherin, 1400
~~~~
September 1, Sunday
The order delivered Harry to King’s Cross Station. Even Sirius’ presence couldn’t enervate him. He was just tired all the time now.
“Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey when we get to Hogwarts,” Ron suggested. “Maybe she can help.”
“Maybe,” Harry murmured. He didn’t want to visit the hospital wing before term even started. But, he couldn’t deny he was just going through the motions. Even Malfoy’s unsubtle threat about Sirius only got a partial reaction from him.
Their normal room already had an occupant, but as soon as she said she didn’t mind sharing, Harry collapsed onto a bench and passed out.
He awoke hours later to hands on his wrist. He jerked away, shooting upright. The girl from before knelt before him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, panic flickering through his voice as he realized what wrist she’d been touching.
“Giving you something,” she said, nodding to his arm.
Glancing down, he saw something wrapped around his wrist. A touch revealed it to be metal. Now that he noticed it, it was cool against his skin. Almost cold.
“Why?” Harry demanded, feeling his heart flutter against his ribcage.
“To thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
She shrugged. “Everything you’ve done,” she said. “You’ve been fighting You-Know-Who for years and no one has thanked you for it. I wanted to.”
Harry twisted his wrist to give himself something to do while he considered what to say. To his astonishment, the cuff completely covered his mark. It snapped closed underneath, giving it a snug fit, and preventing it from slipping down and revealing it.
“I don’t need anything,” he told her, despite the sudden desire to keep it.
“I want you to have it.” She smiled suddenly. “I’ve never had anyone to give a gift to.”
Harry cleared his throat. He recognized the look in her eyes. He’d seen it for years in his own eyes before Hogwarts. Loneliness.
“I don’t know your name,” he said. Now that the adrenaline was fading, his exhaustion was returning.
“You fell asleep before introductions,” she told him. “I’m Luna Lovegood, fourth year Ravenclaw.”
Harry managed a small smile, even as he slumped back against the bench. “Nice to meet you Luna.”
Instead of smiling, as he’d expected, she frowned. Raising up, she laid a hand against his forehead. Her touch was cold.
“You’re burning up, Harry.” Her gaze met his. “You’ve been inside too long. It’s not good for you.”
This time, his frown matched hers. “What are you talking about?”
“Certain people deteriorate if they’re left inside too long,” she answered. “I think you’re one of them.”
“I’ve been inside longer than this before,” he told her. “Never been sick before.”
“Things change. People change. Sometimes something happens that forces a change.”
Harry paled. The only thing that had changed … His eyes darted to his wrist.
He shook his head. “It’s just a cold.”
“Maybe.” Luna pulled away, settling back onto her bench. “Or maybe you’ll feel better once we get to Hogwarts.”
Harry cleared his throat, turning his gaze to the window. “Where’s everybody else?”
“Neville and Ginny went to find the foodcart,” she said. “And Ron and Hermione had rounds to do. None of them wanted to disturb your rest.”
“Alright.”
Luna continued staring at him, but this time, He ignored it.
***
September 20, Friday
Luna had been right. Thankfully, Hogwarts allowed Harry plenty of time to be outside, though more and more often, he was drawn to the forbidden forest. He’d resisted the urge to go further in than the very outskirts, instead taking shelter under the safer trees of the grounds whenever he could. With the weather turning, that was becoming more difficult.
His grades in Herbology were improving, though Harry knew it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with what was happening to him. Still, worried about who was watching and taking note, Harry verbally brushed it off. After all, Neville was doing just as well, and he was actually earning his grade.
The one shadow over Hogwarts - besides Voldemort’s disbelieved resurrection - was Umbridge. Harry cupped the still sore hand to his chest. The words ‘I must not tell lies’ were etched into it, giving him another scar to add to his growing collection.
The edge of the forest was typically safe, and that’s where he sat today, head thunking against the tree behind him. He didn’t know why he was fighting so hard. If everyone refused to believe him, why should he care about them?
I know why. Ron and Hermione were part of ‘them’. So was Neville, and Ginny, and Luna now. If he stopped persisting, everyone would have no choice but to believe Umbridge and the Ministry.
“So, I keep fighting,” he murmured to himself. “Despite the pain.”
A faint noise drew his attention to the right, figuring it was some harmless creature. They came to watch him sometimes. While unnerving, they never did anything dangerous.
He scrambled to his feet, staring at the Thestral several feet away. Its skeletal frame was as creepy as Harry remembered them. They weren’t dangerous, or so Luna claimed, and were actually quite gentle. That they could only be seen by those who’d witnessed death wasn’t their fault, or so he tried to convince himself as it slowly stepped closer.
“Easy,” Harry murmured, one hand rising to keep it at bay.
The Thestral didn’t stop, even as Harry pressed himself against the tree. When it was close enough, it pressed its long nose against his chest and sighed, closing its eyes. It took up most of his torso, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. Tentatively, Harry reached up, running a hand along the leathery snout. The Thestral leaned heavier against him, lowering his long nose and forcing Harry’s hand to raise.
He gently rubbed the furless eyeridges. The Thestral heaved a happy sigh. It was warm to the touch, much more than he’d expected. Its skin was soft, but made Harry take care, as though he could harm it easily. Thestrals seemed ridiculously delicate when one touched them.
Slowly, Harry relaxed, feeling at one with the odd creature. Before long, he found himself leaning forward, laying his forehead against the Thestrals and just breathing.
When he finally pulled away, the Thestral’s eyes were closed. For a moment, he thought it had fallen asleep - which almost made him laugh - but its eyes slowly opened. As it pulled away, it stared at Harry with one dreamy, half-asleep eye.
Harry smiled, pleased that someone was happy with him.
“You seem relaxed,” he told the creature, his voice soft so as to not break whatever spell they’d woven together.
The Thestral snorted, backing away from him. Harry watched it go, having difficulty identifying the well of emotions bubbling within him. All but one: peace.
***
October 10, Thursday
Nicolas Sumerby sat on the ground before the Hufflepuff fire. His homework was spread out before him so he didn’t look completely out of place. Behind him, the sixth and seventh years claimed the comfiest chairs. Nicolas didn’t mind. Even those few feet made a difference. This close, he could at least feel the fire's warmth seeping into him, and chasing out the constant chill he’d felt since the weather turned two weeks ago.
Sitting this close to the fire was about the only way he felt warm anymore. Even warming charms were beginning to fail him. He’d started wearing sweaters under his uniform around the drafty castle, and Merlin forbid if he had to go outside.
Wish I’d known this sooner, he silently complained, staring down at his half-written potions essay without really seeing it.
He wouldn’t have tried out for the Quidditch spot if he’d known this would happen. Practices were miserable now. And he was slow, and felt like a stupid fool more practices than not. At least during the actual games, he’d have a chance of ending the game sooner if he found and caught the snitch quickly.
Distantly, he wondered if it had anything to do with the events of this last summer.
I thought they were Amanda’s accidental magic, but what if it was actually me?
He shook his head, forcing such foolish thoughts away. Everyone knew accidental magic stopped once a child started Hogwarts. It had to have been Amanda. Even if she’d had no more incidents since he’d left.
Maybe I’m coming down with something. Don’t fevers make you feel cold?
That sounded more likely. He didn’t exactly feel feverish, but it made more sense than believing he’d been setting fires because some kids were picking on his little sister.
With a new, determined, glint in his eyes, Nicolas gathered his books, parchment, and quill, and stood. He garnered a couple glances as he started for the stairs, but no one stopped him.
A few minutes later, he returned to the common room and made for the portrait. Madam Pomfrey would know what was wrong with him.
***
“There has to be something wrong. I’m cold all the time,” a voice said inside the hospital wing.
Draco slowed, head tilting curiously.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sumerby, but physically, you’re in perfect health. Perhaps you’re just a bit more sensitive to the cold than others?”
“I never used to be,” the voice protested.
It sounded young, so not one of the upper years, but not a first year either. Draco drew closer, wondering if this could be someone they were looking for.
What are the chances? He wondered, silently. He supposed it would make sense for a fire element to feel the cold more strongly.
He frowned suddenly. But, wouldn’t their element keep them warm?
Unless it had to be fully connected for that. Which meant claimed by the dark lord.
“You’re growing up, Mr. Sumerby. You’ll find that a lot of things change over the next few years.”
Draco grimaced, silently agreeing with the kid’s verbal protest. No one wanted to talk about that with a girl. Especially not one as old as the nurse.
“I assure you, it’s perfectly natural. Wear layers and use your warming charms when you go outside, and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m already doing that,” the voice argued. “And the charms don’t work!”
“Then you’re not doing them right. I suggest asking Professor Flitwick for a refresher.”
It was an obvious dismissal, and Sumerby seemed to understand that. He was still grumbling as he came through the door. He stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing Draco, giving him plenty of time to observe the boy.
His robes declared him a Hufflepuff, though they bulged awkwardly in places, making Draco wonder if those were the layers he’d been talking about, or if he carried extra weight in places. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a round face that - if circumstances were different - he’d forget as soon as he saw it. Which might explain why Draco didn’t recognize him at all.
In all, he seemed completely unremarkable. A more unlikely host for Fire, Draco couldn’t imagine. After all, Draco was a Malfoy. As such, he had exceptional looks and a lineage that couldn’t be beat. Even Luna defied explanation. Sumerby just didn’t measure up to expectations.
Sumerby blinked at him, then twisted to glance over his shoulder at the door he’d just come through. He flushed, obviously realizing Draco had just heard everything. Instead of saying anything, Sumerby hunched over and hurried away.
Draco arched his neck, trying to see the boy’s wrist. Unfortunately, between the angle, and Sumerby’s sleeve, Draco couldn’t see anything. He’d have to figure out another way to check the Hufflepuff out.
Shouldn’t be too hard, he thought, watching the boy go. It wasn’t like Sumerby was Potter, who’d deny him things just because he could. If he just asked, Sumerby was likely to show him, just to make him go away.
***
October 11, Friday
“It makes sense.”
Luna nodded, her gaze out the window as she only half listened to Draco. In the distance, she could barely make out a familiar figure as he slipped into the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He’d been going out more often. It worried her.
While it was good Harry was listening to his needs, if it became too regular, others would realize what he was doing. Umbridge might not understand the significance, but Draco would. At the least, he’d get suspicious. Merlin knew it didn’t take much.
“Are you listening, Luna?”
“You think you found Fire,” she answered. “Wouldn’t a host of Fire be impervious to the cold?”
“If they could control it. You know we can’t without …” he trailed off, unwilling, and not needing, to say the name on both their minds.
She nodded. “That makes sense. We need to be sure, first. We can’t just take anybody.”
“I know,” Draco answered, a familiar sneer coloring his voice. “I’ve already got plans to check his wrist.”
She turned from the window, finally looking at the Slytherin. “I could do it,” she said. “Nobody will notice if I talk to a muggleborn. You’re noticed more.”
It would give her the opportunity to throw Draco off the scent. The more hosts the dark lord acquired, the less their chances of freedom. She could feel her element churning within her, could feel its disdain at being confined, even within her. Could feel its yearning to be free again. The elements were not meant to be bound.
“I’m not going to approach him with others around,” Draco shot back, rolling his eyes.
Distantly, Luna wondered if he realized how childish it made him seem.
“I’ll do it when he’s alone. I’m not an idiot.”
In some matters, she admitted, but in others, Draco had some serious blind spots that meant his brain didn’t work as it should.
“Besides,” Draco continued, oblivious to her thoughts, “we don’t want Dumbledore learning about us. Or him.”
Luna sighed, her gaze returning to the window, the focus of her attention no longer in sight.
“I still say I should do it.”
“No one takes you seriously,” Draco countered.
“He’s in my classes,” she pointed out. “He’s more likely to talk to me, then you.”
“He won’t listen to you. He’d never believe you.”
That’s the point.
“I want to be there, then,” She said. If she couldn’t stop this completely, then she at least wanted to see how accurate Draco’s instincts were.
“Fine, but I’ll do the talking.”
Luna nodded.
There was a pause. “Luna?” Draco asked, confusion coloring his voice as he drew near.
“Yes, Draco?”
“What are you looking at?”
She could feel him just behind her. The warmth of his body seeped into her, despite the slight distance he kept between them. Without turning, she knew he was looking over her shoulder, hoping to identify what demanded her attention.
“Nothing,” she answered. “It’s just the forest.”
She felt him shudder behind her, and she smothered a giggle. Imagine an elemental being afraid of a forest.
“What about it?”
“It’s pretty today.”
Another pause. “If you say so.” A hand laid on her shoulder. “Come on, we should go before someone finds us.”
She hummed, uncurling from her perch and returning her feet to the cold stone.
“Where are your shoes?”
Luna blinked, eyes turning downward, seeing her toes wiggle, free of any confinement.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I expect the Nargles took them.”
Draco frowned, gaze flickering between her face and her feet. “Nargles?”
She nodded, smiling once more as she remembered Harry’s reaction to her shoeless feet. She did hope Harry could avoid being found. They could be good friends if he remained free, but if he ever learned that Voldemort had her, she didn’t think he’d ever look at her again, let alone treat her nicely.
She was startled from her thoughts as Draco grabbed both her shoulders, leaning down to stare in both of her eyes. He became so close her eyes almost crossed from trying to see him. She blinked, returning Draco’s image to a single one. The Air host had never gotten this close before, and she’d never seen him with such an intense gleam in his eyes.
“Is someone hurting you?”
Luna blinked again. “Of course not. Why would you think so?”
“There’s no such thing as Nargles. Who’s taking your shoes?”
Gently, Luna pulled away from Draco’s grip. She was used to people not believing her. She found it rather silly to believe in magic and not believe there wasn’t more out there than they’d already proven existed.
“It’s not important, Draco. They’ll come back. They always do.”
“Always?” he echoed. “Luna, how long has this been going on?”
Luna shrugged. “They’ve been here four years, at least.”
“Four years? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“Why would I?” she asked. “It’s not important.”
“Of course it’s important!” he exploded. “You’re one of us,” he said.
By the emphasis on the last word, Luna knew he meant the Elementals. Voldemort’s Elementals. Luna preferred Harry’s ‘us’. Friends.
“They can’t get away with this. We can-”
“No.”
Draco blinked at her, his growing anger momentarily interrupted.
“No?” he demanded. “You can’t like your things being taken!”
“We can’t be seen together,” she reminded him. “Even this meeting is dangerous. What if someone sees us?”
That possibility was the only reason she’d agreed to it, but no one had come by, leaving them as anonymous as when the year had started.
“But-”
“No,” she interrupted again. “Ravenclaw is not your concern. The others are. It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
With obvious reluctance, Draco nodded once.
“Then that’s where your focus should be. Nothing else is important.”
She moved to go by him when a hand grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. Glancing back, she saw Drac’s eyes blazing with anger once more. Frowning curiously, she tilted her head at him in inquisitive curiosity.
“You are important, Luna Lovegood.”
***
October 23rd, Wednesday
The upcoming Quidditch match had eaten most of Draco’s time. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Quidditch, and it wasn’t that flying didn’t have a joy of its own - especially since he’d acquired Air - but if he and Luna didn’t bring another host back for the holidays, they’d be in trouble.
The dark lord might be pleasant - to them at least - but he knew better than to assume it would last indefinitely. He’d seen his father return from meetings shaken and in great pain. He knew the punishment for failure, even if Luna didn’t. He had no desire to experience it.
If it wasn’t for Voldemort’s desire for them to remain undetected, he might have quit Quidditch - even if it meant giving victory to the Gryffindors - just so he could focus on his assigned task.
Luna had been patient, but in the short time he’d known her, he’d never seen anything but calm from her. He didn’t think she could be anxious. In some ways, it helped balance out his own anxiety, and tempered his need to finish things quickly. Unfortunately, she also acted like they didn’t have a time limit to find the hosts.
Doesn’t matter anymore, he thought as he saw Sumerby come around the corner, hunched in on himself as though he were freezing through his layers, despite the relatively minor chill to the air. He looked just like Draco remembered him. Unremarkable.
But, what do you expect from a mudblood?
“He’s cute,” Luna whispered beside him.
He looked at her, horror twisting his lips. “Cute?” he shot back. “How is he cute? He’s ordinary.”
Luna shrugged. “There’s more there than meets the eye.” Then, she shot him a smile that meant everything, but told nothing. “Besides, you’re biased.”
“Biased? I am not.”
She shrugged, but didn’t say anything else. With anyone else, he’d take their silence for acquiescence, but he’d learned that Luna’s could mean any number of things. He considered continuing the argument, but the Hufflepuff came within range, and continuing would mean losing their opportunity.
Quick as a flash, Draco darted from the room to grab Sumerby and drag him back in with him. The Hufflepuff yelled out, but there was no one nearby to hear him. Draco got him behind the classroom’s closed door with relative ease. Sumerby’s movements were sluggish, and no match for Draco’s superior strength.
“That was your plan?” Luna asked behind him, her normally dreamy voice somehow managing to portray an unimpressed air.
Draco flushed. “It worked,” he grumbled.
What had she expected him to do? Curse him? If Sumerby really was Fire’s host, it could get them burned. They didn’t know how their elements reacted to being attacked. The dark lord hadn’t done anything to test that. For all Draco knew, even if they would protect their host against normal threats, they’d do nothing against Voldemort - the man who commanded them.
“What’s going on?” Sumerby demanded, struggling against his hold.
“Relax,” Draco told him. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
Draco released him, taking a step back, making sure to stay between the Hufflepuff and the door so he wouldn’t make a break for it.
Sumerby let out a short laugh, which held no amusement, and a fair amount of panic.
Not good. He glanced at Luna, wondering if she could do something. He wasn’t good at calming people down. She just stared at him when he turned to her, the message clear. He’d gotten them into this, he’d have to get them out. He sighed.
“We might know why you’re cold all the time,” he said.
Sumerby frowned at them. “Madam Pomfrey says nothing’s wrong with me.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “There isn’t. I need to see your wrist.”
“My wrist?” Sumerby echoed, pulling his arms closer to his body so he could prevent Draco from forcibly seeing them.
As if I’d lower myself to that.
“Why?”
“It’s the only way to know,” Draco answered, impatience coloring his voice.
“Know what?”
Draco hesitated. How do I tell him without telling him?
Luna didn’t have the same hesitation. She stepped up beside him and showed her wrist.
“You have one of these, don’t you?”
Sumerby glanced down, blinking at the slender wrist, pale even in the dim light available in their corner of the castle. Seeing the reaction, Draco pushed his sleeve up as well. Voldemort hadn’t said they couldn’t show them to other hosts.
Sumerby’s eyes squinted, actually leaning closer to see the faint mark on him. Draco actually preferred how faint his mark was. It complimented his coloring rather than just standing out. His was easy to hide without doing anything to it.
“Where’d you get that?” Sumerby asked, nodding towards Draco’s wrist.
“Nowhere,” Draco answered, knowing it would appear that way to Sumerby. “Woke up one day and it was there.”
If he was wrong, and Sumerby wasn’t one of them, he knew how to cast an Obliviate. The risk was minimal. But, he wasn’t wrong. Between the Hufflepuff’s sensitivity to cold, and his reaction to their marks, he knew he wasn’t wrong.
“What does it mean?” Sumerby asked, still keeping his arms to himself. Hidden.
Draco glanced at Luna. She stared back, blinking slowly. For the first time, he regretted telling Luna to keep quiet. This, he realized, was her revenge. She wasn’t going to help him through it.
“It could be why you’re cold all the time,” Draco said. “It’s a side effect. If you have this, we know how to stop it.”
“How?”
Draco pulled his sleeve down without replying. Sumerby stared at him. Draco stared back. The silence dragged on as the Hufflepuff glanced between them. Finally, Sumerby sighed and uncurled his arms.
He shoved his sleeves up, until his forearm was bare. Then, he turned his wrist. There, in vivid red and orange was an upright triangle. The symbol of Fire.
“How?” Sumerby repeated, withdrawing his arm and hiding the mark.
“There’s someone who can help you,” Draco said. “He helped us.”
“Helped you? You were cold too?”
Draco shook his head. “Everything was too loud for me. I was hearing things across the house as though it was being yelled in my ear. If someone breathed outside it was a pounding in my head.”
His eyes closed as he remembered the constant state of pain he’d been in the week before he’d been brought to Voldemort. He hadn’t been able to get out of bed. Nothing helped. When he was lucky, the pain made him pass out. Most often, it kept him awake, writhing in bed, too afraid to even cry. Noises that close split his head in two.
“He stopped it,” Draco continued. “He made the world quiet again, and helped me take advantage of the benefits.”
“Benefits?” Sumerby asked. “What benefits?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Draco said. “It differs for everyone.”
“What makes you think he can help me?” Sumerby asked. “I don’t have that problem.”
“Trust me,” Draco said. “He specializes in people like us.”
Sumerby huffed, clearly unimpressed by Draco’s claim. Draco narrowed his eyes at the Hufflepuff.
“Well, where is he?” Summerby asked before Draco could lose control of his fraying temper. “When can I see him?”
“He’s not around here,” Draco told him. “We can’t get to him until the Christmas holidays.”
“Christmas?” the Hufflepuff shook his head. “Maybe Madam Pomfrey can help if I show her this.”
His arm twitched.
Draco shook his head. “She wouldn’t understand its significance. All it might do is put you at risk.”
Sumerby blinked. “What kind of risk?”
“We’re not common,” Draco answered, “But we do have recognizable attributes that certain people would recognize.”
“So?”
“So, not everyone would like what it means.”
Sumerby frowned, confusion growing across his features. He glanced between Draco and Luna. Draco fought down his impatience, wishing the dark lord hadn’t ordered them silent. This would be easier if he could just tell him what was happening!
“It could be dangerous,” Luna said, finally speaking.
Draco bit back a sigh of relief. There was no denying Luna’s oddity, but she had a way of speaking that made people listen to her. Even if they didn’t believe her, her words had a way of sticking with someone. Of repeating in their minds, and returning at the oddest moments.
“For who?” Sumerby demanded, proving he was smarter than he appeared.
Not that it wouldn’t have been easier if the Hufflepuff had just believed them without question, but he supposed it was better for an elemental host to be able to think.
“For you,” Luna answered. “We don’t know how they’d react to learning who you are. What you are.”
Sumerby hesitated. “What am I?”
“Special.” Luna smiled, closing the distance between them. She lifted his wrist, revealing the mark and holding hers by it. Sumerby stared at them. For several minutes, neither spoke a word.
“If we’re special,” Sumerby began, finally breaking the silence. “Why would I be at risk?”
“People are afraid of what they don’t understand. They wouldn’t understand us.”
The Hufflepuff nodded, seeming to understand Luna’s odd way of speaking.
“They’re all different,” Sumerby pointed out.
Luna nodded. “They represent different things for each of us.”
“Luna,” Draco warned.
She twisted to look at him without releasing the Hufflepuff. “I know.”
“What?” Sumerby demanded, glancing between them once more.
“We’re not supposed to tell you what’s going on,” Luna said.
“Why not?”
“We don’t know everything,” Draco cut in, before Luna could say anything more, or potentially risk breaking the dark lord’s orders. “If we told you something, it might be wrong, which could hinder you later.”
Sumerby shook his head. “I don’t know about this.”
Draco shrugged. “What are your other options?”
“I could go to Madam Pomfrey anyway,” Sumerby said. “Merlin knows why I’m even listening to you. Everyone knows Slytherins hate muggleborns.”
“That makes you more than just a muggleborn,” Draco countered, crossing his arms. “You’re one of us, and it’s our job to protect you.”
“They can’t make the cold go away,” Luna said. “Even if they’re better than we fear, they can’t help you. Only one person can make it stop.”
Sumerby hesitated, glancing between them again. Wary suspicion still lingered in his brown, ordinary, eyes, but it was less than it had been.
“It could get worse,” Draco pushed, seeing an opening. “The colder it gets, the harder it will be to stay warm.”
Sumerby shuddered, finally withdrawing from Luna’s grip. He leaned against the wall, eyes on the floor. His gaze turned inward, lost in thought. It was better than continuing to argue, Draco supposed, but now he didn’t know what was going on within the kid’s head.
He glanced at Luna. As always, she seemed unconcerned. She hadn’t moved away from Sumerby when their physical contact broke. Instead, she stayed close, offering some sort of silent support.
“You won’t be harmed,” Draco promised, softening his voice despite his ever growing impatience.
Sumerby gave a short laugh. “And why should I believe you?”
Draco frowned, letting the insult he felt appear on his face. Before he could say anything (and later, he would silently thank her for it), Luna drew Sumerby’s attention back to her.
“You really won’t,” she said. “I can’t promise you’ll be happy, but you will be unharmed.” She shrugged as if to say ‘what else do you need?’
Sumerby shook his head. “You’re crazy. Both of you are crazy.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed at the Hufflepuff.
“Just think about it?” Luna asked, once again preventing Draco from tearing into Fire’s host.
Sumerby nodded once. “Can I go now?”
Luna nodded, stepping away from him. When Draco didn’t move, she frowned at him. He sighed, finally stepping aside. As soon as the door was free, Sumerby vanished from the room.
“That could have gone better,” Draco said.
“I could have talked to him alone.”
Draco snorted. “How would that have been better?”
“I don’t have a reputation for being against muggleborns.”
“He’s not a muggleborn.”
Luna frowned, appearing genuinely confused. “Yes, he is.”
“No. He’s a host, which means he can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Well, the elements need hosts with a strong connection to magic. That would be people with long lines of magic in their blood. We’re both purebloods. It makes sense that all of us would have some link to that old magic.”
Luna blinked. “There’s an odd sort of logic to that,” she admitted.
Draco grinned.
“But you’re wrong.”
“How?”
She shrugged. “They don’t care about our bloodlines. To inhabit a human host, they’d need certain requirements to be met, likely centered around what they are, or what they represent.
“Water, for instance,” she continued, without giving Draco a chance to interrupt, “has long been considered a gateway to seeing more than might otherwise be known. It would make sense that it would inhabit someone who could do that.
“Furthermore, water is non confrontational. It will always take the path of least resistance, but can wear out stone if given enough time.”
Draco scoffed. “Are you saying you can wear down stone?”
She shrugged, her smile pulling at her lips. “Well, it might not be stone, but I got to you and the master, didn’t I?”
Draco couldn’t think of a suitable reply for that.
***
November 2, Saturday
“Leave him alone.”
Her words breathed from her before she’d even realized they crossed her mind. Pale eyes stared out from under the large lion's head she’d worn to the game, cheering on the Gryffindor team.
As she spoke, she saw Draco approach Harry. From her distance, she couldn’t hear what was spoken, but she could see Harry hold back a Weasley twin, while two others held back the second twin.
“Stop it.”
Her words did nothing, could do nothing, as Draco continued talking. Then, Harry wasn’t holding back the twin anymore.
“No!” she cried out, her protest lost in the crowd as she watched them sprint across the pitch and tackle the host of Air.
She saw Draco take a step backward. She, alone of all those in the stands, saw the ground rise behind him, catching his heel. She saw Draco lose his balance a bare second before he was tackled to the ground.
She sat in silence as they were separated; as Umbridge banned Harry, Fred, and George from Quidditch; as Harry stalked off and Draco swaggered off the pitch despite his injuries, unaware of what had just happened.
Luna breathed easier, content Draco was still oblivious to their final member.
Did anyone else see it? She wondered, glancing around the stands. Reactions to the fight, and the banning, were polarized. Some, primarily Slytherins, cheered the decision. Others yelled their anger. Anger Umbridge chose not to notice as she left the pitch behind the Slytherin Quidditch Team, looking quite pleased with herself for a woman who’d just made an enemy of the entire school. Not that she hadn’t been doing a good enough job of that before this.
The stands emptied slowly. She was stuck within the horde as they lingered and complained. It took hours, it seemed, to get down and away from everyone. Too long, surely, but by the time she’d slipped into the forest, it was still empty. She pulled the cloak tight around her shoulders. She couldn’t have been wrong.
He’ll be here, she thought.
As she waited, her adrenaline faded. They were still safe, but she had to keep it that way. If anyone discovered Harry, it would get back to Voldemort, and the man had an uncanny ability to draw Harry to him. Normally, Harry was able to escape, but if the dark lord knew what he was, there’s be no escape available.
“Luna?”
She turned. It was late afternoon, but even in the fading light, Luna could see the furrowed brows and the frown.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you could use someone to talk to,” she said.
“How’d you know I’d be here?”
“You’re always here, Harry.”
He shifted. “Not always.”
She stared at him. “Often enough, then. I don’t blame you.” She turned to the still green, flourishing surroundings. “It’s beautiful here. You’d think it would be bare by now, but it’s all still flourishing.”
There was a pause. “I guess. But it happens like that sometimes, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s normally warmer though.” Luna touched a nearby tree. “I wonder if it’s happening further in as well.” She glanced back at a wide-eyed Harry. “Have you checked?”
“We’re not supposed to.”
Luna nodded. “I suppose so, but it’s sad that nobody but the animals get to know what happens there.”
“I guess … Luna, why are you here?”
“I came to see you.”
“I got that.” Harry frowned. “Why?”
“You’re upset. I saw the fight.”
“Malfoy started it,” Harry said. “He knows just what to say to make us all angry.”
Luna nodded. “He likes making you lose control.”
Part of that was the way they’d always been. Part of it was the element within Draco striving to obey the master and reveal the last remaining host.
That they had always been rivals blinded Draco to the truth. He reacted to Harry as a potential dominant host, striving to either assert his own, or make Harry prove his. Harry, in return, was angered by the challenge. Luna had already accepted Harry’s dominance over her. It was his unspoken orders she was following: Resist Voldemort.
The DA gave her everything she needed to know, and absent the master, Harry’s orders prevailed. She would do whatever was necessary to keep Harry hidden.
She smiled at him. “If you didn’t lose control, it would anger him.”
“And he’d try harder next time.”
Luna shrugged. “Perhaps, but each time he failed, you would see him react to it. That could strengthen you against his future endeavors.”
Harry blinked at her, a small smile twitched at his lips. “Yeah, I guess it might. Don’t know how much good it’s going to do now though. He’s already gotten me banned from Quidditch.”
“It could save you some detentions.”
Harry grimaced. “She doesn’t need Malfoy to give them to me.”
Her eyes flickered down, resting on his hand. Even with the distance between them, she could see the shadows etched across it where he’d been scarred. Too much more, and those scars would be permanent.
Absently, she realized that Umbridge was lucky to be alive. Plants weren’t something she kept around her. If she ever threatened Harry near a plant bigger and stronger than mere grass, she’d likely find herself the victim. None of the elements took kindly to the harming of their hosts. It was just Harry’s luck that he couldn’t summon his element from nothing like the other three.
“It’s not forever, Harry,” she murmured. “People will believe you eventually.”
“I know.” His smile returned, a faint, wistful thing. “Thanks, Luna. It’s nice to know that someone’s on my side.”
“You have Ron and Hermione,” she answered, but as the words left her mouth, she realized that wasn’t quite right.
No. It wouldn’t be quite right. She frowned.
“They always have been,” Harry said. “I don’t know what I’d do without them sometimes, but it’s nice to know there are others I can count on. You know?”
Luna nodded, putting the distressing feeling away. She could think about it later, but right now, Harry needed her attention.
“You can count on the DA.”
The smile widened. “Yeah, I guess I can.”
“Well, I should get back,” Luna said. “I still have homework left to do.”
“Thanks for talking with me.”
“Anytime, Harry.”
She breezed past him, pausing briefly at his back. “You know …”
When she turned back, she saw Harry staring at her, gaze politely curious, silently urging her to continue. It struck her then that Harry always looked at her like that. Like what she had to say was important, as important as anyone else’s. Like he’d believe her if only she could find the words to explain herself right. Or, even if she couldn’t, he’d give her the benefit of the doubt.
I’m sorry, Harry, she thought suddenly. Such misdirection as she had to practice was difficult for her, and against her nature. But, if Harry didn’t know what she was, she could avoid verifying what he was. Then, if Voldemort asked, she could honestly say she hadn’t found Nature.
“I think the earth moved under Malfoy.”
Harry paled. She almost moved to support him, but knew she had to appear as though she hadn’t seen it. Harry thought he was subtle.
“Did it?” he asked.
She nodded. “It was the most astonishing thing. It raised a few inches and he tripped. Have you ever seen that happen before?”
He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Me either.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s some new kind of worm.”
Harry smile made a reappearance, but she knew him well enough by now to know it was forced. It didn’t reach his eyes, and the corners seemed a touch strained.
“Maybe.”
“Well, goodbye, Harry. I hope you find some peace here.”
His answer was another weak smile. Knowing she was the cause, Luna didn’t comment on it. She walked away, hoping she’d made some sort of impression on the Gryffindor. If Harry kept losing control, even Draco would connect the clues eventually.