"Fire," he replied, a smirk that was all bloodstains and rusted bolts (because with his leather and coal-black scruff that crawled all up his throat and jaw, didn't he look the sort to play with matches?), touching the deep blue seas of his eyes. "I rather enjoy sailing and fishing though - it's a wonder I'm not a water witch myself."
But no, James did tend to connect with the fierceness of fire and glowing embers and plumes of smoke - those spells had always come easy to him, even when he had no idea what the fuck he was doing.
The forms complete, he handed them over all nice and neat. "I left my mobile number on there in case you need me, love." How considerate of him!