Unbetitelt

“Mmh, no dark magic, what a shame. It feels like light magic? No, it’s not very pure, now is it?” he said, turning around the room.

He barely got out a few more words before being thrown back against a wardrobe, his form held in with thin but strong icy anchors. A small tendril pushed his wand out of his hand and let it clatter to the ground. “…Glacius? Ugh,” he finished as he impacted the solid wood.

“Not a Muggle then, miss?” he asked, still remarkably calm about the situation.

“I do not know what a Muggle is, sir, so I couldn’t say. But what I do know is that you are a stranger intruding into my room, without introducing yourself and with barely any manners to speak of.”

He just shrugged, as best as he could, and answered, “Well, Muggles do not deserve respect. And I didn’t take you to be a witch. How do you not know about the Ministry of Magic? Are you some kind of magic beast that hatched here? Well, no matter. My supervisor will want to examine you.”

“Examine me?” the queen asked suspiciously.

“Oh yes,” the man answered, his eyes twinkling with a hidden pleasure. “Oh, and I’ve forgotten my introduction, haven’t I? My name is Marcus Nott, pleased to make your acquaintance,” before opening his fingers, his wand careening through the air towards his hand. Elsa could only watch as it landed firmly in the man's fingers.

“What are—” was all she got out before her question was disturbed by a kind of chanting from the opposing party: "Incendio!"

A thin and concentrated beam of flame jutted through the air with roaring speed, nearly singeing her eyebrows before she threw up a shield to protect herself from the blaze. “What is this? Magic? Why—” she tried to say, but was once again ignored and juxtaposed by her opponent, who now pointed his wand at his bonds, pressing out a "Finite!"

Nothing happened.

Then the man cried out and threw another fire spell, this time at his own body. The restraints didn’t hold long under the blaze, but Nott was not immune to fire. He could stop himself from catching fire, but his skin still turned an unhealthy shade of red, and his hair was singed as he dropped to the floor. “Hag,” he growled out. “Creature, you’ll pay for this. And I will enjoy having you at my mercy…”

He licked his lips in a way much too unappealing for any kind of royalty. So Elsa froze it with a flick of her finger. His face reddened and his lips turned blue as the coldness grazed them, and his tongue froze to the top of his mouth. “Ill-mannered,” Elsa laughed before throwing her hands together, ice jagging up from the floorboards, spreading outwards before engulfing the man in front of her, rigid edges piercing his skin in the most painful way Elsa could imagine.

“I like morons more this way,” she admitted to herself, chuckling again as she regained her posture. “Now… tell me about this Ministry of Magic… and tell me more about this little piece of wood, will you?”