Author Notes: Originally Called Rising Elements. I am doing a rewrite. Someone (won't say who) suggested I take a look at my story and fix it. So I am and recreating it again. Same plot, just going to be a little different, and I'm going to try to write it better. Please note I do have permission from Sage Ra (Formerly known as Raul Fictitious, the writer of Harry Potter and the Elemental's Power). To write this story and use the basis of his story to write this one.
Dumbledore took Harry Potter to his relatives in the hope they would raise him as their own. Instead, Harry grew up hated, despised, and lonely. The only way he could survive was to be quick, cunning, intelligent, and ruthless.
When Harry awakens a long-forgotten power that hasn't been seen in nearly two centuries, Harry will either walk the path of a good elemental or the way of Darkness.
Later on, I will explain why this chapter is called 'The Awakening,' though I'm sure some of you may have figured it out.
Prologue: The Awakening
In the small community town of Little Whinging in Surrey, England stood a house that looked just like any other house. Its grass was neatly trim cut as it moved against the wind in an endless sea of green. Its roses were lined up perfectly along the walkway to its marvelous oak door, bees and butterflies flying around harmlessly along the path.
This was the Dursley household. Inside the home were pictures that showed a family of three. The oldest was Vernon Dursley, a supervising director at a small drilling company called Grunnings. He made enough money to get by and was always proud to say that he was a hard worker and a respectable man.
Next to Vernon Dursley was Petunia Dursley, his wife of fifteen years. Unlike her husband, who was larger and wider than she was, she was skinnier and a bit taller. She was unemployed but liked to keep the house clean and tidy.
Their only child was their son Dudley, who seem to resemble his father more than his mother. He was a big kid who seemed happy with his life.
The Dursley's had a terrible secret. A secret they feared would haunt them forever if any of their neighbors found out. Inside the home was another young boy. His name was Harry James Potter.
Harry Potter was the son of Lily Potter, the younger sister of Petunia Dursley.
The Dursley's feared the day should anyone discover that their nephew was a wizard who could use magic, and they hated magic of any kind. They hated it so much; they even forbid Dudley from playing or watching anything that resembled magic in any way. But Harry didn't know he could use magic. And the Dursley's hoped the day would never come when he would discover his abilities.
Unfortunately, today wasn't a good day to be a Dursley. It started as an odd day. Around four o'clock in the morning, dark clouds began to gather around the small town before something even stranger happened. Snow began to fall from the sky. It wouldn't be until a couple of hours later when the adults woke up for their day. They would discover that the small community town of Little Whinging was covered in deep snow.
The weather channel was baffled at the sudden change in the weather. Instead of the forecasted 38 degrees Celsius, the temperature was instead at -12 degrees Celsius. The Adults were stunned by this sudden change and put on what winter clothing they had in a desperate attempt to stay warm.
Children who were surprised and somewhat grateful for the sudden change were outside playing, making snowmen, snow angels. Even throwing snowballs at each other and at anything that was moving.
If anyone had taken a closer look at the sudden change, they would have noticed that the coldest place in all of Little Whinging was Number Four Privet Drive, home to the Dursleys.
The Dursleys had woken up in the worst possible way they could have imagined. Their air conditioning was frozen, and the heater wasn't working either. They had tried to put on some clothes in an attempt to get warm before they froze. They were shocked to see that their clothes were ice thick and so stiff they couldn't move. After finally getting some clothes on, they went downstairs and tried to turn on the stove and oven in an attempt to get some heat in their bodies. Much to their despair, their efforts were futile as they soon realized that the pipes were frozen solid, and no heat source could be turned on.
Finally, they turned to their fireplace that they hadn't ever used and tried to start a fire. After nearly an hour of Vernon attempting to start a fire, he gave up, and the three Dursleys cuddled up in the last attempt to stay warm.
Underneath the stairs inside a small cupboard, Harry Potter woke up from his slumber. He blinked several times before he realized that there was ice on his face. Harry lies there for several moments, pausing to enjoy the good feeling that was coursing through him. He was warm, warmer, and lighter than he had ever felt in his young life.
He almost felt like a feather. It was also strange because despite seeing ice covering his small cupboard, he felt as if someone had lit a bonfire beside him, and it wasn't going to go out. Harry looked down and could see that the ice was weirdly moving on him. He touched the ice and realized it wasn't sticking to him as it should.
Instead, it was as if the ice was giving him strength, and for a strange reason, he felt stronger too. He could almost feel himself getting taller as well.
Harry gave a heavy sigh, knowing he would have to get up and make breakfast for his family. He hated the idea of being treated like a slave. His relatives would only punish him if he was late or did anything they disapproved of. Disappointed at the anticipated loss of the strange warmth, he got up and reached for the door handle on the cupboard. To his surprise, the door moved open for him before he could even touch the handle.
Harry got up and stood in front of his cupboard. The effect Harry felt was almost immediate as a powerful yet invisible wind seemed to gain speed and swept around him, fueling him as it blew against him. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't just his cupboard that was frozen, but the entire house.
He stared at the frozen pictures of his relatives only to give a small laugh as he could no longer see them in the frame. He looked around and clutched his fists, power radiating off of him. He was only wearing a thin oversized shirt and sweatpants, but he didn't feel cold.
He felt as if he was lying on a tropical beach, even if he didn't know what that was really like. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air, feeling intoxicated at the scent of moisture. He opened his eyes and raised his hands to his face.
To his utter amazement, a small line of water rose from the floor and mirrored his hand movements perfectly. Harry was moving it around, enjoying himself as any ten-year-old child would.
Harry was so caught up with his newfound abilities that he didn't even notice his relatives in the living room until Petunia let out a sudden gasp. Almost as if she was shocked and terrified at the sight of her nephew.
Harry turned to look at his relatives. He was only amused at their appearance for some strange reason instead of being afraid and trying to pass by unnoticed.
A heavy silence descended, and Harry stared at the Dursley's for what seemed like a lifetime. He looked closely and could see frost and ice forming on their clothes and faces. Even their hands were getting stiff with ice.
"So does anyone care to tell me what's going on? And why is everything frozen?" asked Harry slowly.
Harry couldn't explain it to himself, but courage was rising within him. It was almost as if an animal was standing up for itself after years of abuse, refusing to back down and ready to leave its own mark.
Vernon wanted this nonsense to stop right away and have things go back to 'Normal' immediately. He was upset because the boy had unleashed his freakishness in his house and had the galls to mock him about it. Well, he wasn't going to put up with it and was going to have the boy return things to normal, or he would pay dearly.
"I want you to return things to how they were, boy, or you'll have another thing coming to you once I get my hands on you," Vernon growled. It would have been threatening if Vernon's teeth weren't chattering because of the cold.
"I… did this? How?" said Harry slowly.
"You and your freakishness!" Vernon snapped at his nephew's lack of intelligence. He was growing impatient with all the unnaturalness around him.
Harry merely paused at his uncle's words. He started remembering every incident in his life that left the people around him, including himself, with unexplained answers.
Harry paused as he remembered the day when he was six and turned his teacher's wig blue because she criticized the way Harry was dressed. Harry was angry, and before he knew it, the teacher's hair turned blue, causing the entire class and most of the school to laugh and mock him.
Then there was the time when he was running from Dudley and his gang at school. He was terrified and was wishing fervently to be somewhere safe. Before he even knew what was happening, he was on the school roof. He was amazed by what happened - it was like he appeared there magically.
It was proven even more so when the teachers had to open the roof from the inside. Harry never forgot that day - he was punished for a month for being 'unnatural,' as his uncle told him.
Harry suddenly began to see the pattern and started piecing together what was so unnatural about him. It was the only thing that would explain it. Harry felt proud because deep down, he knew he was special and consequential. Today proved it. Everything was falling into place inside his head.
Harry finally understood why his relatives hated and despised him so much; why they felt he was so unnatural to them when they believed they were normal. There was only one thing he could do; the only thing a ten-year-old boy could do at this point.
"Am I some kind of sorcerer?" Harry half asked, half demanded from his aunt and uncle.
Vernon turns a nasty shade of purple that caused him to look almost like a human fruit. It was clear he was starting to suffocate, but he was also very, very angry. Petunia let out a loud gasp as if she had heard the most disgusting swear word in her life. She clapped her hands on her eyes and closed her eyes as if she didn't believe what she had just heard. Dudley looked terrified at the sudden words that came from his cousin's mouth. He seemed to realize that doom was written for him for all those times he tormented his cousin. He tried to make himself look small in the hopes that his cousin would be merciful to him.
"Am I?" Harry spoke again, this time in a much louder voice.
"Don't say it! Do not say those words," Petunia suddenly lashed out, speaking for the first time.
She opened her eyes and looked at Harry. Fear was written in her eyes, but so was loathing. Loathing so great, Harry felt as if it could consume him.
"Well, am I?" Harry demanded again.
"Of course you are! Why else do you think we tried to stamp it out of you? You were so unnatural and so abnormal. My damn sister being what she was, a witch. My parents were proud of her, proud they were to have a witch in the family. Every year she came home with swamps in her pockets and turning things into rats. I was the only one, the only one who knew what she was. A freak just like you!"
"But no, it was always Lily this and Lily that. Proud to have such abnormality in their lives. I swore when I took you in that you would not be like her. You would not be a freak underneath this roof. But your abnormality still existed, and you wouldn't take the hint that we are normal people and your kind, your kind doesn't belong in our pure world!" Petunia said in what seems to be one breath. The cold air was coming from her mouth, and she was puffing like she just ran a mile.
"So, you hate me. You lied to me all these years because I could use magic," hissed Harry.
"Of course! It's so unnatural. Things were horrible when Lily went off to that magical school of freaks. But it got even worse when she met that damn Potter boy and decided to get marry and have... well, you. She then got herself killed by some other freakish maniac, and we got landed with you," snapped Petunia.
Harry was beside himself. All these years, he had wanted to know what the cause of his parents' death was, and now that he knew, he was pissed. Petunia seemed to sense the danger and blanched at the sudden tension in the room.
"You lied to me! You told me my parents died in a car crash. Why do you hate magic so much? Or is it because you love causing pain? Perhaps I should cause the same amount of pain to you, Aunt Petunia, seeing how you no longer care about what your actions do!" Harry hissed, and Petunia shrunk back into the couch as best she could. Her courage disappeared altogether, realizing the anger within her nephew.
Vernon seeing that his nephew was threatening his wife with his freakishness, got up and charged him like a rhino on a rampage. Harry, in a panic, raised his hands to protect himself from Vernon's fist.
As if sensing its master's need for protection, the water rose and, like a tidal wave, swept Vernon off his feet and caused him to fall. The water carried him back to the couch, where he landed with a loud 'thud.'
The water still swept over him in a crushing torrent. Finally, it ended, and Vernon collapsed, looking winded. Petunia and Dudley were paralyzed in fear, unsure what to do against their now powerful and pissed off relative.
Harry was the first to get over the shock at his newfound abilities. He looked at his hands and flexed them a bit before he smiled. His lips took on a dark, cold, and cruel smile as he looked down at his pitiful family.
Harry seemed to transform from a scared and scrawny boy to an insane and powerful one. The water and ice began to rise behind him in the background causing Dudley to whimper and Petunia to appear as if she had seen a violent ghost.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about me. Including the truth behind my parents and more of this school that you mentioned." Harry hissed in a way that seemed to mimic the hissing of serpents.
Dudley only gave out a loud whimper and tried to shield himself behind his mother in a desperate attempt to stay safe from his now insane and powerful cousin. Petunia swallowed the lump in her throat as if she was forced to swallow a frog. This was not a good day for her or her family.
Hogwarts – Headmaster Office
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was considered by many to be the greatest sorcerer alive. But he was an old man who was long past his prime. Now, he mostly ran the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was most loved and most popular wherever he went.
Today he was thinking about the event that happened nine years ago concerning the Potter family's sole survivor, Harry Potter. He often second-guessed and questioned himself as to whether leaving Harry at his relatives was a wise decision. He knew Lily and Petunia never saw eye to eye. Still, he prayed that Petunia would see enough reason to raise her sister's son without any dislike to the boy.
Dumbledore's mind would be at ease if it weren't for his Deputy Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall.
She had always been against the idea of leaving Harry Potter with his relatives. Every year, she voiced her concerns, stating that he needed to be pulled out and given to a family who could raise and treat Harry as if he was their own. Perhaps to his Vassals.
His excuses were running out, and he could only pray that by the time Harry was at Hogwarts, the need for his removal wouldn't be necessary. Something told him that he was 'wishing for fool's gold' if he remembered the muggle saying correctly.
He always wanted what was best for young Harry, and he hoped that living with his muggle family would allow him to grow up without the fame of being the Boy-Who-Lived. Indeed, he wished the fame didn't get to his head and hoped that Harry would be mature enough to handle it at eleven. He trusted Petunia would explain things to Harry when the time was right.
Dumbledore was brought out of his train of thoughts when his fireplace lit up green, telling him that someone was trying to contact him. He turned his head to the fireplace to see the head of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, within the flames.
"Dumbledore! Thank Merlin, you're here. I feared the worst that you would be away on business. The Ministry of Magic is in desperate need of your assistance," Fudge said quickly in one breath.
Fudge paused to catch his breath and to remove ashes from his mouth that flew in when he was speaking.
"How may I be of assistance, Cornelius?" asked Dumbledore politely.
"We have reports of two major magical incidents that our Accidental Magical Reversal Squads are unable to control," Cornelius explains in a raspy voice.
"Two, are you sure?" Dumbledore asked calmly as he could. Inside he was worried that these incidents could be the work of the remnants of the Death Eaters. Dumbledore was unsure if the magical world was ready for their return if they were indeed responsible for the magical incidents.
"Very sure, Dumbledore. My office is covered in angry letters from many people. I've never seen them get so upset over an incident like this. We are working overtime, and we hadn't done that in a long time, not since the days when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was active." Fudge said.
Dumbledore could hear voices on the Minister's end and knew the Ministry was in chaos and working on damage control to the best of their abilities. "We have an incident in Surrey in a small community town called Little Whinging. A massive snowstorm has hit the town in a blizzard. I have never seen this before, Dumbledore."
"Nor have I Cornelius. I have never heard of an entire town being covered in a magical storm like this." Dumbledore answered. 'Not even Grindelwald could do that to an entire town. A city block was the best he could do, even I. Voldemort ... no, not even he had this capability. Then who... Is this an attack on Harry?'
"Yes... it's a nightmare, Dumbledore, but even worse is a Fiendfyre that has destroyed almost all of Rochester in Kent. We are trying to bring the flames under control, but whoever the caster has spread the flames on Sundridge Hill. It's only a matter of time before the Fiendfyre hits the town."
Dumbledore paled as he took in the Minister's words. Fiendfyre was incredibly dangerous and powerful. He couldn't help but wonder who the caster was. Even if someone used Runes in both incidents, they wouldn't have had the strength and power to perform such magical damage; what was even more frightening than the fact that it hadn't been seen since the first wizarding war was that it had been used in a muggle town. The mere thought dropped like a sack of potatoes inside Dumbledore's stomach.
"I shall deal with the Fiendfyre," Dumbledore said slowly.
"I shall send Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to assist with the weather in Surrey." Dumbledore would have rather gone and check in on Harry Potter, but he felt he was the only one who could handle the Fiendfyre.
"Thank you, Dumbledore. The Ministry cannot thank you enough." Fudge said with a nod and a breath of relief.
"Also, Professor Flitwick is in Diagon Alley. Send for him to assist with Surrey. His knowledge of charms and counterspells will be needed."
"Of course, I shall send someone right away. Thank you again, Dumbledore." Fudge said in haste.
He left with a soft pop, and his head vanished from Dumbledore's fireplace.
Dumbledore got up and gave a heavy sigh as he realized he was starting to get too old for being the hero. He needed a prodigy. He prayed that Harry could replace him when he got old enough. He waved his wand quickly to send word with his Patronus to Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall with instructions regarding the current events.
He could count on them. Calling Fawkes, he disappeared in a flash of Phoenix fire.
Rochester, Kent – Sundridge Hill
Dumbledore appeared with a soft pop on a small grassy field. He held his wand at the ready and look serious.
Dumbledore was nearly blasted off his feet from the heat of the fire that was roaring like a dragon. As the trees and wood began to crack underneath its sheer power, it let out a sound as if thunder was rumbling off in the distance.
The fire itself was at an incredible height, reaching over the treetops and dancing like a hurricane. Dumbledore brought his hands up, and he could feel his body getting warm immediately. Its heat brushing off his robes seem to light them alive.
"This is not Fiendfyre," Dumbledore muttered as he places cooling charms on himself to prevent getting burned. Every gut feeling was telling him to turn back and run. The winds were howling as if they were pained, and it hurt Dumbledore's ears as he listened.
"Professor Dumbledore, thank Merlin, you've arrived. We can't stop the Fiendfyre from spreading. We're trying to assist the muggle authorities in evacuating the area. Still, it won't do us much good if this fire keeps spreading," A member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad said as he ran up to Dumbledore.
"Stand back. I shall deal with the fire immediately," Dumbledore stated as he whipped his wand out.
For a moment, he felt the Elder Wand pulse in his hands as if it was trying to tell him not to attack. Dumbledore paused for a brief moment to think what was going on before he lashed his wand forward and fired a powerful spell that emitted a silver light from the Elder Wand. A massive gust of wind swept over and nearly blew Dumbledore off his feet. His robes felt as if they would tear through his body as the wind-blasted them.
The wizards and witches of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad weren't so lucky. They were blasted off their feet and had to shield their eyes as the fire seem to turn even brighter. The flames of the fire rose even higher as if Dumbledore suddenly made it angry, and it was rearing back like a Dragon would before it attacked.
Dumbledore grabbed the Elder Wand with both hands and poured as much power as possible into the spell. All hopes of killing the flames seem to vanish when the flames appeared to gather as one and launch at high speeds towards Dumbledore. It was devouring all in its path and destroying anything that it was touching.
Quickly thinking, Dumbledore cast a Magus Shield to block the fire. It held for a moment as the fire pushed forward, breaking the shield and becoming more intensely powerful. That mere second was all Dumbledore needed to draw his wand back once more and launch another spell towards the flames that seemed to be moving like a stampeding horde.
Dumbledore's spell hit the flames, causing the flames to vanish just in time as they were about to consume everyone around them. A magical shock wave erupted like a canon, and everyone was blasted off their feet once more. The last flames that remained slowly began to die as the land started to show its scars.
"That… that was amazing, Professor Dumbledore." A wizard said with his mouth open, speaking after a few moments of silence.
"Indeed," Dumbledore said calmly. He was looking at his right hand and could see magical burns on his skin. The fire reached him, but he was lucky that the fire died out the way it did before it consumed him. "Best, we have a look around. There could still be muggles in the area." Dumbledore stated as he walked forward.
"Yes, yes, of course, Professor." A witch said, and they all began to move forward. In the distance, several houses could be seen badly burnt. Scorches of black burns all over their broken homes. Some were obliterated. Others were still intact, although just barely.
Dumbledore headed towards the homes to look around. Several witches and wizards were behind to help some muggles coughing and showing signs of burns and smoke on their bodies.
Dumbledore paused for a moment as he felt a rather powerful magical signature nearby.
"Homenum Revelio," Dumbledore said as he cast the spell. It only revealed the presence of a single person. Holding his wand at the ready in fear of an ambush, he opened the burnt door to see a young girl standing there. She could only have been 10 years old.
Dumbledore paused as he stared at the girl. He was amazed that someone so young could create so much magic. Her clothes were half burnt with scorch marks all over her face and arms.
She was panting as if she had run a marathon. Her hair was dark with hints of dark brown. Her eyes were odd and startled Dumbledore. The iris burning red with an orange ring surrounding the pupils. Before Dumbledore could utter a spell, the girl's eyes shifted back into a light bluish-green color. It was then that her eyes rolled back, and she fell backward.
Acting on instincts, Dumbledore banished his wand and conjured a magical stretcher. She fell without landing on the floor. Dumbledore paused, unsure what to do at this newfound discovery of a young witch - one who seemed to be more powerful than himself.
Taking her in his arms, Dumbledore walked out to hand her over to the waiting muggles in strange hats that took her and drove her to London's General Hospital.
Dumbledore was left standing there, wondering who she was to conquer so much magic that caused such dangerous destruction.
Little Whinging, Surrey
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape apparated near the center of the blizzard. They nearly collapsed as the winter winds began to push them back. After the wind started dying down, they place warming charms on themselves to prevent the ice from freezing their skins.
Several members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were attempting to cast runes to reverse the weather's effects.
Professor McGonagall walked forward to assist them. She was performing her best transfigurations to change the weather back. Still, it was as if the snow was self-aware and was battling the wizards and witches to prevent them from changing the weather.
A short while later, Professor Flitwick arrived and began to assist in any way he could.
Snape strode across the street and went to number four Privet Drive. He calmly opened the front door that showed signs of heavy snow and ice holding it in place.
Snape walked in and entered the living room to see the Dursleys lying down on the ground with ice burns on their bodies. Snape stepped forward and looked at Petunia. Petunia stirred before she realized who was standing before her.
"You…" She hissed. Petunia's eyes showed a deep level of loathing but also fear. Snape said nothing but pointed his wand at her. Petunia looked at it fearfully as Snape muttered, "Legilimens."
Snape watched as Harry seemed to move the ice, causing frostbite and ice burns on his relatives. They seemed to be spilling their lungs out as they told him all they knew. Snape didn't need to go deeper into her memories to see bad blood between them.
Pointing his wand at Petunia once more, he places a modifying memory charm before turning and doing the same thing to Dudley and Vernon.
Snape then turned and went up the stairs. He was careful not to slip as the ice made it hard to walk straight. When he finally got to the top, he poked around, hoping to find Harry. He finally noticed him in a small bedroom where he was passed out on the bed, looking peaceful. Snape paused as he pointed his wand at the boy, hesitating, considering whether he would only be harming him, harming Lily.
Before Snape could decide, the snow and ice started to melt as the sun reappeared in the sky. Snape turned around and realized that Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick with the Minister of Magic was successful. The weather was becoming warmer, and the ice and snow were melting.
Snape sighed relief before he disapparated on the spot with a soft pop.
Professor Dumbledore was walking down the halls of London's General Hospital. He was there because of the young girl who showed extraordinary magical talents.
He had to use the Confundus Charm a couple of times, but he was finally able to find the girl and a man who looked to be her father standing beside her bed. She was fast asleep, still unable to wake from the events of the day. He was holding her hand and was most likely going to refuse to leave her side.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, announcing his presence to the young man. He looked up and stared at Dumbledore's twinkling eyes.
"Good afternoon, I am Professor Albus Dumbledore. I'm here to talk to you about today's incident that involved your daughter."
"Dumbledore? Forgive me, but I don't have time for this at the moment. I'm more concerned about my daughter's condition than giving any type of report. The doctors are telling me it's a miracle she wasn't harmed in the fire today."
"I believe that fire was no accident, Mr…"
"I'm Mr. Morris. David Morris. And what do you mean that fire was no accident? Did you do something that endangered my daughter? Or do you know something that happened to my daughter that you haven't told the proper authorities?" He snapped. Dumbledore stood there calmly, letting Mr. Morris lash out at him as if he was expecting it.
"There are still some answers I need, Mr. Morris," Dumbledore said politely. Showing no signs that he was affected by the man's outburst. Mr. Morris sighed and leaned back on his chair, showing signs of being exhausted.
"Forgive me. It's just that after losing my wife nine years ago, I cannot bear to lose my only child. It's mostly my fault. Sending her off to school and focusing more on my work than my daughter's own life."
"Mr. Morris, what do you do for a living?" Dumbledore asked politely.
"I'm a traveling agent; I work with London's Travel Agency."
"Really, muggles hiring other muggles to find places for them to go. Most extraordinary." Dumbledore mused.
"Forgive me. I shall tell you what I know about the situation today. You see, I believe your daughter started that fire with accidental magic." Dumbledore stated, to the extreme shock of Mr. Morris. To prove his point, Dumbledore took out his wand and conjured a chair, and sat down. Mr. Morris only sat there, gawking at Dumbledore.
"So, you're saying that magic is… real?"
"Quite right, Mr. Morris, magic is as real as you and I," Dumbledore answered calmly. He pulled out a lemon drop and placed it in his mouth.
"And you're saying, my daughter… she can do what you just did?" Mr. Morris asked slowly.
"With time and training, she will be. You must understand there are rules and laws, even for witches and wizards. We do not go around showing our talents to Muggles. We prefer to stay hidden and mind our own business. We do not want any unwanted attention brought upon us. Some come from muggle parents but show extraordinary talent in magic. Your daughter will learn to control her abilities in time, so another fire like this will not happen. You see, I am a teacher at a magical school in Scotland. It's a boarding school in many ways. Every year on the first of September, students from around the country come to my school to learn all they can about magic and magical words. They return on the twenty-fourth of June for the summer holidays. I am hoping I can see your daughter at my school. She has gained my attention greatly."
David Morris merely shook his head. He was still trying to wrap his head around all this.
"As I stated earlier, I'm not really in my daughter's life. I really don't know her very well, and whether this is the best choice for her. I'm mostly in London working while she attends school here."
"I believe your daughter is starting to show all the signs of being a witch. The school I teach at will be more than enough to learn everything she needs to know for her magical education and abilities. Next summer, her letter of acceptance will come. But first, may I know her name?" asked Dumbledore calmly.
Author Notes: As I stated beforehand, I do have permission from Raul Fictitious, the writer of Harry Potter and Elemental's Power. (Now he's name is Sage Ra his story has also returned!)
39 C is 103 degrees Fahrenheit
-12 C is 10 degrees Fahrenheit