MAGIC IS MIGHT - or is it?

Chapter Eight- Elves? Use a crystal! Wizards? Use a fireplace!

"This is the ministry?" Sophie couldn't help but feel frustrated. Why endure the monstrosities of apparating to get to an ordinary street in London? It felt as if the air was being squeezed out of her, and was as terrible as it sounded. Albus shook his head. "This is my house. Dad needs to come with us if we want to go inside."

"Master Albus, back already?" Sophie gawked at the strange sight before her. It had a bulbous snout nose and blood shot eyes. It regarded Sophie with a look of curiosity. "How rude of me not to introduce myself. Kreacher is bound to serve the house of Black. Please wipe your feet on the mat before entering." He then proceeded to dust of the umbrella stand resembling a leg of a monster.

"Sophie! how nice to see you." Harry had just appeared at the door. "Thanks Kreacher, today's french onion is as good as ever." Kreacher bowed down low and resumed his cleaning. Harry smiled. "Well you lot, off we go. We'll go using floo powder, shall we?" Sophie nodded, answering for her friends. To her, anything other then apparating was good enough for her.

"I don't want to sound offensive, but why are we standing in front of a fireplace?" Tam asked. Harry laughed. "You've obviously never traveled by Floo network before, haven't you?" The group stayed silent. "I'll go first," Rose said. "Too bad Scorpio isn't here," Albus whispered to her. "He would have dropped the pot again and we all would have gotten a laugh."

Rose reached up and grabbed a small container that sat on the mantelpiece. Sophie's confusion grew as she grabbed a handful of whatever was in it, and stepped inside the fireplace. Her confusion turned to horror as Rose unclenched her fist, shouting "The ministry!" and disappearing with a roar of bright green flames. She repressed a scream. Albus followed after Rose, and Fitz volunteered to go next- though his face was as green as the flames.

One by one her friends turned into fire as they were magically transported into the ministry. "Sophie?" She snapped to attention. "Is there a problem?" "No," She whispered. "I just don't like fire that much." "If it helps, it isn't actually real fire." Harry smiled at her- in that fleeting moment, he reminded her of Alden, telling her everything was alright the first time she jumped down the Atlantis whirlpool.

She took a deep breath and reached into the pot, feeling a soft, silvery powder - like ash. "Now, say it nice and clearly, or you won't get to the right fireplace. Best to keep your elbows tucked in, too." She gulped and said, "The ministry!" dropping the powder. The last thing she saw was Harry's kind face as she shot upwards, her heart pounding in her chest.