Chapter 74: Silver Tongue (1)

"Again!" – ordered Duke McMahon as his son struggled to catch his breath. 

Greg McMahon brushed aside a few damp strands of hair from his eyes and rose to his feet. He wasn't certain if his face was wet from sweat, tears, or the copious water splashing around due to his imperfect control over the element. Perhaps it was a combination of all three. He couldn't pinpoint when he had tumbled to the ground, but the sharp pain in both his knees confirmed it was anything but a gentle fall.

"You're attempting to draw water from too many sources simultaneously." – spoke Edward – "Don't force the water; instead, yield to its flow, and it will come to you naturally as you are the lowest point of power." 

"It's overwhelming!" – gasped Greg, still panting – "I feel like I'm drowning!"

"It will subside with time." – the aristocrat reassured him, understanding that his words offered little solace to a young Elementalist grappling with the enormity of his elemental power.

"At least I'm not throwing up anymore." – said the boy sarcastically and squatted next to the shore of the Black Lake, dabbing some cold water onto his face. 

The vast expanse of water lay tranquil and enigmatic, mirroring the nascent crescent of the moon with a serene grace. No waves disturbed its surface except near a secluded area, where a lonely, naked rock jutted about fifty metres into the water. 

Some time earlier, a group of merpeople had emerged there, and they didn't seem in a hurry to dive back into the depths of the lake. Instead, they chased each other, splashing water with their silver tails, and talked with their screeching raspy voices, most likely commenting on the two Water Mages using the lake to practice elemental magic. Greg thought that the merpeople living in Britain had very few similarities with their cousins, the Sirens, who preferred warmer waters, with their brightly coloured fish tails, as well as eyes and hair in various shades of pink.

The boy had encountered a Siren just once, during a stay with his grandfather, who had taken him to the seaside in the South of France in search of rare flowers. It was a sight he would never forget. Only his grandpa's swift reaction prevented the boy from willingly venturing into the sea and disappearing beneath the water. Many years later, the young lord still dreamt of the Siren's voice, calling upon him. He couldn't even recall her features, but the enchanting call remained forever etched in his memory. 

"Come on, son!" – the Duke encouraged him – "I know you can do it! Let the water come to you and guide it to form a sphere. The currents will tell you which way. Just feel them!"

Greg closed his eyes for a moment, opening himself to his element and feeling the rush of tremendous power pulsing through his veins. The boy could hear and sense his own heart, beating in an increasingly erratic rhythm. Taking a deep breath, the young wizard managed to slow down his pulse and regained control. When he opened his eyes, they were emitting a bright blue light, and he focused on the water around him. It was truly mesmerising how different the world appeared once his senses were sharpened by the soul of the water. Every droplet of liquid around called to him, and Greg knew he could shape it into any form he desired. 

Simultaneously, the persistent and crashing might of the flows, invisible to everyone but Water Mages, quickly overwhelmed the heir of the McMahon family. Nevertheless, the boy stretched his arm upward and guided the water around to form a sphere. He did succeed for several seconds, but then he was unable to stop the upcoming torrents, which disrupted the delicate balance of the sphere, resulting in a large volume of water splashing over the young aristocrat.

'At least I didn't fall to the ground this time.' – thought the boy, perfectly aware that the gleaming eyes of his father proved he diverted most of the water flows that his son extracted but couldn't control. 

"You're improving!" – the Duke concluded – "How do you feel?"

"A bit sick." – answered the boy honestly – "But I can give it another try!"

"You shouldn't overexert yourself." – the older wizard cautioned – "An Elementalist needs to know their limits. Besides, the wind is not favourable at the moment."

"The wind?" - Greg asked, puzzled, following his father's gaze toward the castle. Someone was walking through the grounds in their direction. While Edward was allowed by Dumbledore to be in the school, it would have been bothersome if they needed to explain why the Head of House McMahon was hanging around the Black Lake at night. 

"The wind is always favourable for those who know how to become one with its spirit!" – Marquis Carsilion Egbert's melodic voice emanated from the dark. 

"How very profound of you, Carter!"- the Duke teased his best friend, having sensed his presence five minutes earlier – "Is that how you spend your evenings now – eavesdropping on people?"

"As you know perfectly well, I am not in the habit of eavesdropping." – said the Marquis, stopping next to Greg and offering a sympathetic pat on his drenched back – "However, I can't help it if I happen to overhear certain things. Air Mages have surprisingly good hearing."

"Yeah, big surprise – manipulating air to capture sound waves. It's the oldest trick in the book!" – chuckled Edward. 

"Jealous, are we?" – Carsilion smirked.

"I'm a married man, my friend!" – laughed the Duke – "The less I hear, the better!"

"There is a grain of truth in that." – the other wizard agreed with a smile – "I am yet to express my gratitude to your wife for the lovely Howler she sent me several months ago. There are still burn marks on my desk."

"I'm not foolish enough to come between you and Louisa." – said Edward, shaking his head.

"Well, if you ever did, it might prove to be quite enjoyable." – purred the Marquis with a sly smile.

"Ahem, you do realise I'm still here, right?" – Greg interrupted the two wizards – "And I'm dangerously close to start throwing up again!"

"Suit yourself! Your Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment on the Reductor Curse is due tomorrow, regardless of whether you're sick or not." – grinned Carsilion, clearly amused by the fourth-year's disgruntled expression. 

"Greg's making excellent progress." – Edward said with a proud smile – "I am confident he'll complete his basic training in three years."

"That's quite a rapid pace." – remarked the DADA Professor, sounding a bit concerned. 

"We don't have much choice. We need Greg to be adequately prepared for whatever may happen to our family in a few years." – the Duke stated earnestly – "Speaking of which, has Dumbledore started teaching Catherine elemental magic?"

"The Headmaster is not one to provide detailed reports on his activities, Edward." – Carsilion scowled – "I suggest you inquire with the student, rather than the teacher."

"You asked and he didn't tell you, did he?" – the other man surmised after a quick glance at his friend's sulky face.

"His exact words were: Air cannot understand Fire but can only nourish it." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" – exclaimed the Duke.

"Who knows." – shrugged the Marquis – "They have always said that Dumbledore is a genius, but this brings little consolation to those of us who need to deal with him!"

"Catherine seems perfectly fine to me." – Greg chimed in – "If they had started her training, I would assume she wouldn't appear so… unaffected."

"Greg does have a point, Edd." – nodded the DADA teacher – "From what I've seen, she's in a remarkably good health and spirits, evident from her constant bickering with Slytherins."

"Merlin! Is she still doing this?" – the Duke moaned – "We've warned her numerous times about drawing so much attention to herself!"

"Unfortunately, this ship has already sailed. Everybody in the school knows her by now." – remarked Carsilion – "I must admit that it's usually not her who initiates these conflicts. We do face issues with Slytherins and their treatment of Muggle-borns."

"This is truly misfortunate, but what does it have to do with Catherine?" – asked the other wizard.

"Uhm, you do remember she presents herself as a Muggle-born, don't you?" – the Marquis answered, entertained by the sudden realisation reflected on his friend's expressive face. 

"They treat her poorly because of her alleged blood status…" – the Duke finally mumbled, prompting both Carsilion and Greg to nod affirmatively – "This is horrible! You are a teacher! Can't you control your students?"

"What kind of fairy tale are you living in?" – snapped the Professor – "You are well aware of what's happening in the Wizarding society! The fact that the Council pretends it's nothing is mostly due to certain Houses' considerations about whether they should align with that person preaching against Muggles and Muggle-borns! All of this is reflected here at Hogwarts! It's not easy to tackle. Much of it occurs without our knowledge, and when we do find out, it's often too late to take action. Just this week, I had to deal with two Muggle-born girls who were victims of severe curses, one of which could be classified as dark magic, warranting criminal proceedings! And I still have absolutely no idea who cursed them or how to find the culprit!"

"I'm sorry, brother!" – the Duke apologised, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder – "I'm aware you would never allow anyone to be harmed under your watch, especially my daughter. You know I trust you more than I trust myself! I just don't want my girl to be bullied, especially for something as stupid as blood status!"

"I know." – the other wizard replied – "Actually, she hasn't really been bullied about it lately. First, because she and her friends are typically quick with their responses. But what concerns me is that the Slytherins themselves seem to be avoiding confrontations with her, particularly, and the reason for this troubles me greatly."

"Well, I'd assume they've learnt she won't tolerate their bullying." – said the Duke with a hint of pride.

"This hasn't deterred them in the past." – the DADA teacher's brow furrowed in thought – "However, I couldn't help but notice a shift in their behaviour, which, to the best of my recollection, began towards the end of last year. It appears to coincide with a sudden surge of interest from a particular senior Slytherin."

"I beg your pardon?" – chocked Edward – "She's only thirteen, for Light's sake!"

"I'm well aware of that, and that's precisely what makes it so unusual." – Carsilion nodded – "A wizard like Lucius Malfoy is constantly surrounded by the most beautiful young women in the school, arguably much more suitable for him. They're closer to his age, which does make a significant difference in case of teenage girls, and among them, there's a good number of pure-blood witches, which is not the case with Catherine, as far as he knows."

"Wait a second!" – Edward shouted, his face flushed entirely as the conversation took an unexpected turn, forcing him to confront the possibility of someone being romantically interested in his daughter – "Malfoy, you said? The son of that bastard Abraxas Malfoy, who would sell his whole family if it meant a chance to lick the shoes of Adrian Borealis?!"

"The very same." – confirmed the Marquis – "And I assure you that his son may even surpass his father in terms of ambition and ruthlessness. Slytherins… they seem to have this secret internal society, with only a select few students allowed as members, and Lucius Malfoy currently holds dominion over it, subsequently over the entire House of Slytherin."

"Then why, in the depths of the ocean, would he be interested in my daughter?!" – growled Edward, who was seriously considering marching to the castle and ending that 'puny little pure-blood piece of shit' with his own hands.

"I honestly have no idea." – admitted Carsilion reluctantly – "It's not as if Catherine is considered one of Hogwarts' beauties among her classmates. She is just a regular girl with a fiery temper. I don't know; perhaps that's what attracts him… But I can assure you that I pay close attention to every interaction they have. It's likely something temporary, and it will probably pass once he's out of the school. Besides, he's dating one of his fellow Slytherin girls, Narcissa Black. I'm sure she will divert his interest away from Catherine."

"Not likely." – mumbled Greg, who had been standing there, listening intensely to the two wizards. 

"What do you mean, Greg?" – asked the DADA teacher suspiciously – "Do you know something more about this?"

"I don't believe Lucius Malfoy is attracted to Catherine as a… girl." – said Greg, carefully choosing his words – "There are rumours about his… preferences, and she definitely doesn't fit his… type. The reason he's so fixated on her is that last year, Catherine discovered she can speak Parseltongue, and he happened to be there to witness it."

"What?!" – both men exclaimed, stunned.

"I don't know why he keeps hovering around her, and I can definitely feel there's something sinister in his behaviour, but at least it's not of the nature you think… well, I hope it's not!" - admitted the fourth-year.

"Wait a second!" – the Duke finally managed to collect himself – "What do you mean she speaks Parseltongue? To snakes? That's a rare ability, even in our family! Why didn't she tell us? Why didn't you?" 

"From what I know, Malfoy had an argument with Catherine, and he conjured a snake. It was then that she realised she could speak to the snake and ordered it to not to attack. Apparently, it was the first time she had encountered a snake in real life. As for why she didn't tell you, I'm not sure myself. What I do know, however, is that I've put a lot of effort into building some sort of relationship with my sister. I wasn't about to blow it up by snitching on her." – said Greg, his face filled with emotion, before adding – "The only reason I'm telling you now is because I'm concerned about Malfoy and what he might do. I believe you should be aware of the real reason behind his actions."

Edward McMahon drew a deep, calming breath. This ordinary training session turned out to be far more intense, bringing forth a host of unexpected problems he hadn't anticipated. 

"Okay, at least now we're aware and can act accordingly." – he tried to sound calm and reasonable – "But seriously, why are we so unlucky?! Carsilion, I want you to ensure that Malfoy boy stays away from my daughter, or I'll personally take care of him, and I don't give a Knut's worth what's going to happen after that! If the Malfoys hold Salazar Slytherin and his heritage in such high regard, I'll demonstrate what a descendant of Slytherin is capable of, things they haven't even seen in their worst nightmares!"

The Marquis shivered involuntarily. He had rarely seen Edward in such a state, not more than three times in total. While his friend was usually good-spirited and non-confrontational, there was a darkness deep within him which could be more destructive than a tsunami. Carsilion knew that he needed to be extra cautious and diplomatic because those were not empty threats, and Mr Malfoy was in grave danger. 

"Leave it to me!" – said the Professor, carefully trying to steer the conversation away from the hot topic – "It's normal to experience setbacks now and then. What's crucial is for everyone to remain calm. Continue your work with Greg, and I'll keep an eye on Catherine. Try to distract yourself: go to Paris with Louisa, buy yourself another one of those antiques you like, or even better, make sure the new batch of elf-wine is ready to be securely transferred to bottles!"

"Don't try your teacher's tricks on me! I know you're attempting to defuse the situation! How dumb do you think I am?" – Edward growled, pouting his lips – "Although, I do need to take care of the wine this week. I've devised a new system against the forest fairies!" 

"Excellent!" – exclaimed Carsilion, barely containing his laughter.

'Thank the Light, he still hasn't discovered it was me, not the fairies, responsible for that accident twelve years ago!' – thought the Marquis, before saying aloud:

"Don't forget to bring me a few bottles when the wine is ready. I believe I have only three left in the storage here. I should ask the house-elves to double-check, as I intend to gift one to Minerva. Let's hope she'll stop treating me like dirt and become friendly again!"

"I will send you wine, but I think you might need something stronger!" – chuckled the Duke.

Unnoticed by the two wizards, a mischievous glint sparkled in the Gryffindor fourth-year's blue eyes as he carefully listened to every word of their conversation. 

'It seems I can finally make my little sister happy!' – thought Greg – 'I wonder what she really needs the wine for. It's probably better if I don't know. Once I get the bottle from the Kitchens' storage, it's no longer my problem!'