Changing of the Winds

Disclaimer: This story is all mine, but is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Ch. 1 Kindred Minds

The mind, scanning yet again for the turbulent emotions of the unhappy boy, recoiled in pained surprise at the sheer anguish and despair it encountered. Almost feeling the bitter mutterings of the other: Why? ….Why couldn't I learn to occlude my mind? ….Why couldn't I wait until it was confirmed that Sirius was really in danger? …...Why did I think my presence at the Department of Mysteries could save him? …..How could I have dragged my friends, as well as the members of the Order, down there?...I am responsible for yet one more death!…. it perceived emotional eruptions that could only be heart-wrenching sobs, and felt its soul echo in sympathy.

The roiling pain ceased for a moment, and the mind, believing that the pain had ceased, grew concerned when it could no longer sense the other. Expanding its consciousness, it detected a fading remainder of the other's spirit, and panicking, focused on the faint indication of life. Expanding somewhat more to try to pinpoint its location, the mind envisaged a cool, mist-covered island, then focused on a non-descript town, and finally triangulated on a strange neighborhood in which all of the houses were exactly the same. The mind caught a glimpse of a small, dim dusty room, but when it tried to discern the other's mind, it found only grief and torment, but instead of shrinking back, pushed through the agony instead to concentrate on the young one's suffering mind.

Young one, please focus on my thoughts!

Who are you? Are you Voldemort? Why are you torturing me? Get out of my mind!

Please listen to me for a moment! I don't know who this Voldemort is, but I felt your misery, and wanted to help.

Oh God, please! Leave me alone! Please just….

Please listen for one moment! My name is Elëassa. I've felt your mind over the past couple of years, for some reason. I assume that it is part of my destiny to help you. The past couple of years, at this season, I have felt incredible desolation pouring from you. Just this evening, it seemed to threaten to overcome your spirit. I want to help.

Why should I believe you? What if this is a trick?

Elëassa allow her smile to infuse her thoughts. I have felt your mind for this long a time. If I wanted to hurt you, wouldn't I have already?

Why should I trust you?

She sought through her memories for something that would put the youth's mind at ease. Two years ago, you dreamt of a woman with long, red hair, being killed by a frightening being. Green light filled the room. Last summer, you dreamt of a boy being killed in a graveyard. You were fighting an even more frightening form of that same being, as well. In both dreams, you were terrified and desolate. Does this prove that I feel your thoughts and emotions? I mean you no harm, please believe me.

Why do you care? Why do you care if I believe you? What do you want?

Sensing the youth's defiance falter, she reached out, allowing her peaceable nature to touch his. I want to help.

A sob, then, No one can help!

May I try?


Just focus on the feel of my mind. Allow yourself to feel my presence in your thoughts. Just relax in the cadence of my words, in the feeling of calm that pervades my life-force. Ah, there!

In a moment, less, really, Elëassa appeared in the small, gloomy room. Facing her, on a narrow cot, was a thin teenaged boy with green eyes and tousled black hair, wearing black rimmed glasses. His face was drawn, his eyes appeared dull, with red rims, and his shoulders were slumped, at least, until he saw her. Then, startled, he leapt to his feet, overturning books and rumpled clothing.

He pointed something at her. "Who are you?" He demanded, though his voice trembled slightly. Looking at the arm raised toward her, she could see thin rivulets of blood along his arms. He saw the direction of her gaze and winced, but kept the stick (a wand, she told herself—he's obviously a wizard) aimed fixedly at her.

"I am Elëassa. I was the one who contacted your mind. While you were focused on my thoughts, I was able to find where you are. I was concerned about you and wanted to help you with your pain." She smiled gently.

He lowered his arm, slowly, then motioned to the rusty metal chair while he reseated himself on the cot. "How did you get through the wards?"

Elëassa looked dubiously at the chair, then sat gingerly on the edge of the seat. Scanning the room, she took in the dusty, empty shelves, the few books on the bed, the threadbare blanket, the empty bowl on the floor, and the overall disheveled atmosphere. "Do you mean the security fields around this house? They are set against people who possess your kind of magic. They were no difficulty for me."

The boy scowled. "What do you mean, my kind of magic? What kind of magic do you possess?"

She smiled again, thinking that he reminded her of a prickly young kitten. "I am an elemental. My magic is that of air and earth, fire and water. Because I don't possess a magical core as you do, your wards are ineffective against me."

"Oh…." The boy shrugged, uncaring. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and seemed to fold in on himself.

Elëassa, concerned, moved over to the bed, and rested her hand against his cheek. She grew even more troubled when he didn't react. Noticing he had fallen into an uneasy sleep, she passed her hands over his arms, healing the shallow cuts, but discovering the many relatively fresh cuts along both arms. He seemed fatigued, but seeing his restive slumber, she made a decision. Recognizing that the wards might alert someone if she removed the boy, she concentrated on the sensation of his magical core, and created a duplicate aura from the electricity and atmosphere in the room. She stood with the boy in his arms, noting how slight he was, and disappeared.