I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise
Author's note:
I wrote this story over half a decade ago along with the Zelda story I'm submitting. This is a very vanilla story and it has plenty of fluff, but it can also be quite a bit more angsty than anything I write nowadays. I have to edit the hell out of this before releasing it, because everything that I wrote back when I was a teenager was… chaotic.
Author's Note Part 2:
This story has several chapters submitted on another site already, but since formatting them all to work on this site takes a surprising amount of both time and effort, I will submit a chapter once a week until I've caught up to my most recent. For more information, check my bio.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Freedom from the Dursleys was the happy thought that Harry focused on, as he yelled out the incantation with everything he had. Both his godfather Sirius Black and an earlier version of himself were sprawled out on a nearby bank of the Black Lake, where they were being toyed with by a massive swarm of Dementors. With every moment that passed, the two struggling figures were being drained of their lifeforce and were that much closer to a fate worse than death.
As Harry focused his entire will on the spell that he was casting, a few extremely important facts continued to swirl at the back of his consciousness. Fact number one was that he, Harry Potter, was the mysterious figure who had saved both himself and his godfather just a few hours earlier. The second fact was that he'd managed to save them by creating an absolutely massive Patronus Charm, the very same Charm that he was currently attempting to cast. The third fact was somewhat obvious and yet extremely important at exactly the same time. He was going to have to pour every ounce of power that he had into the spell he was currently performing, because to do anything less would be a death sentence. A nice try would get him killed and a good effort was just as bad.
It was do or die time... literally.
With the words of the incantation still echoing throughout the clearing, Harry forced every ounce of his magic down through his wand and out into his spell. He channeled his magic with a reckless abandon, pouring his heart and soul into the process to an extent he'd never even contemplated in the past. He pushed and he strained and he willed the spell to work, but there was a problem and it was becoming increasingly obvious over time.
As Harry continuously tried to force his magic into the Patronus Charm, he was beginning to feel an obstruction between his magic and his wand for the very first time. Under normal circumstances, if a spell was too powerful for Harry to perform, then the spell would simply fail and that would be the end of it. This time however, Harry continued to force more and more of his magical power into the Charm without giving up, which was allowing him to feel some form of blockage getting in the way. In fact, the harder he strained to push his magic out through the blockage the more the connection between him and his wand was beginning to feel like a bottleneck.
It felt like Harry couldn't release his magic into his wand, despite the fact that he was willing his body to do so. Was the problem in his wand? No... That wasn't it. His wand had never failed him in the past and it was still in excellent condition. Was he trying to use more power than his magical core contained? No... That wasn't it either. Now more than ever, Harry could actually feel his magic boiling within his body, as if it was bucking and raging to be released.
Dammit! Now wasn't the time for this! With a growl of fierce determination, Harry disregarded all of the questions growing in his mind in order to focus on the task at hand. He gave up on the whys of his current situation, he banished his uncertainty, and he cast aside his fear. Right now, he didn't have the time for even the smallest variety of hesitation. With clenched teeth and white knuckles, Harry poured his entire will into pushing his magic past the blockage. He would make the spell work! He would save his family!
Over the next few endless seconds, Harry's body began to tremble as he started to feel as if he was short circuiting. What started as a hot prickling along the nerve endings of his arm quickly grew to feel like a strong electric current and a green glow started radiating out of his wand hand. As the sensations grew in intensity the hair on his forearm crisped to ashes and his skin started turning pink from all of the unnatural heat he was putting off. Then, even as those things were happening, a second green aura coalesced at Harry's feet, where it began swirling up his body like an updraft made of ambient power.
As the magical updraft grew in strength, Harry's messy hair was buffeted around, and his robes started floating weightlessly around his body. Finally, with a loud snapping and sizzling sound, all of the air around Harry's body rippled outward and the chaotic magic condensed to look like a bright green comet trail that was flaring off of his body. Something big was happening. Something immense, wild and unpredictable was taking place, and it was changing the very landscape around Harry's body.
The teenage boy standing within the volatile outpouring of magic never even noticed.
In his current state of absolute focus, Harry was completely oblivious to any of the events happening both in and around his body. He wasn't paying attention to any of it… Instead, his entire world and everything in it had become extremely small, specific and focused. He'd cast aside everything else but a desperate need to force his magic passed that bottleneck and the tension that he could feel building up inside of it. His focus was so singular in its intensity, he never even noticed the wild maelstrom of magic that was swirling around his body. He also didn't notice when a thick but translucent green light began to emerge from within his torso, only to sink back inside of him over and over. The radiant green light bucked, strained and bubbled out of Harry's body, burning random patches of his skin within an uncontrolled wellspring of chaotic power.
From a place located deep within his consciousness, Harry's magic repeatedly broadcast a sense of extreme danger and nearly panicked desperation. It screamed at him that he couldn't hold anything back because he was fighting a life or death struggle. Despite the fact that he'd never felt his magic attempting to make contact with him before, Harry felt the connection and recognized it for what it was. His magic was crying for help from the depths of his very soul.
With a long, low growl of absolute determination, Harry poured every ounce of magic he contained into both his spell and the bottleneck that was stopping it. As he became increasingly in tune with his magic, he was willing to burn himself to cinders if it meant completing his task. Over a single timeless moment that seemed to last forever, the magical pressure buildup grew exponentially, along with the searing heat centered within his body. Where at first the lava-like heat had centered mostly in his hand, now it was all over his body, as if he were burning himself alive with his very own magical essence. Then, finally, when the tidal wave of magic that Harry was channeling felt like it was going to tear him to pieces, the barrier finally burst!
BOOOOM!
Instantly and with a deafening crash of sound, Harry's magic rushed out from within his body to fly out in every direction. It was as if his magic was hundreds of tons of water that had been contained inside something as small as a coke can. In a single instant, a perfect dome of brilliantly bright, green colored magic, exploded outwards and away from Harry's body, leaving him standing in a crater of crushed earth and debris.
As the dome of power exploded outwards, a black and smoky wraith was forcefully ejected from within Harry's scar, only to be launched directly in front of him. The wraith screamed its fury, as it repeatedly tried to fly back towards Harry, but an ongoing stream of magic continued to push it back and away. Then, as the dome thinned out and spread, a translucent green shockwave continued off into the distance in every direction.
When the shockwave hit Hermione, who was standing just a little over eight meters to Harry's left, it knocked her clear off of her feet and about three meters through the air.
In the split second that followed the explosion, the Patronus Charm that Harry had been failing to cast all year finally succeeded. The tip of his wand became the epicenter of a laser light show of dazzling white light, as an absolutely titanic Corporeal Patronus was launched into the air.
The Patronus emerged from the wand at the speed of a bullet and immediately moved to defend its master. The massive stag slammed into the screaming, furious, wraithlike monster, instantly vaporizing it as if it was made of nothing but cobwebs and dust. The wraith didn't even manage to slow the Stag Patronus down as it continued to gallop towards the attacking Dementors.
After flying across the water in less than two seconds, the stag smashed into the Dementors like a high speed bowling ball through pins. It was violent enough that Harry could have sworn he saw some of the Dementors disintegrate during every massive impact of its horns. Then, when the Patronus began circling the two newly unconscious people on the other bank of the Lake, its aura was so large that it managed to create a full dome of protection. Finally, the Stag started radiating huge bursts of bright light outwards that carried a sense of pure joy and saint-like benevolence.
In response to the brilliantly lit Patronus effect, the Dementors screeched and wailed as if they were being tortured. They were also physically blasted away from the white light as if they were being hit by a fly swatter. Soon enough, what Dementors Harry could still see floating across the water, retreated en masse into the Forbidden Forest.
In the peaceful silence that the Dementors left behind, Harry could finally feel all of the damage that he'd managed to do to his body. Very abruptly, he gasped and dropped to his hands and knees, as his body released copious amounts of steam into the cool night air. At just a glance, Harry confirmed that his entire body was scorched with what looked like electrical burns or something similar. At first, he could only groan into his hands, as the damp grass cooled the skin of his forehead. As more time passed by however, Harry began to feel a little bit better and he hesitantly took a second look at his arm.
What Harry found this time was a welcome surprise to say the very least…
Upon further inspection, his burns weren't quite as bad as they'd initially looked. After stretching and flexing both his hands and his arms, Harry was pleased to find that he still had full mobility despite the red rawness of his skin. As his body's condition continued to improve, Harry suddenly felt capable of movement again, so he immediately turned his attention towards finding his friend. It didn't take long. Hermione was at the edge of the clearing, propped up on her elbows, coughing for breath and staring at him.
One thing was immediately obvious to Harry. If Hermione was seeking any kind of explanation from him then she was destined for disappointment. The fact of the matter was that he'd been looking for exactly the same thing from her. At this point, he was seriously hoping that his most scholastically inclined friend knew what the Hell was going on, because he didn't have a clue. Unfortunately, after taking just a single look at Hermione's visibly confused expression, Harry realized that she was just as lost as he was.
Damn...
In the end, Harry just shrugged his shoulders in a defeated fashion as he drew his glasses off his face. "I have literally no idea what just happened," he finally admitted in a somewhat sheepish tone of voice. "What part of all that did YOU understand?"
"Almost nothing," Hermione groaned back, as she finally retrieved some of the air that had been knocked out of her.
"Good. I appreciate the solidarity," Harry grumbled, mostly to himself.
It may have been the adrenaline or the near brush with death, but Hermione giggled and then laughed hard at Harry's immature muttering. He just sounded so sulky after having done something so incredibly, unbelievably impossible! When Hermione finally calmed down again and managed to push herself back up to her feet, she dusted herself off and then crossed her arms in a huff. "Harry, seriously. This is nothing new and you know it! Nothing ever makes sense when it comes to you... Look, I want to obsess over what just happened just like you do, but unfortunately, we don't have the time. We need to go now, Harry. We only have a matter of minutes to be at our next destination."
"Uh... Okay then. Fine. We'll freak out later. Good plan. I'm pretty sure Buckbeak's just over that rise there." Harry pointed at an outcropping of rocks in the distance.
Nodding her understanding, Hermione started jogging towards both Harry and the outcropping that he'd just pointed at. Then she very suddenly stopped in place, as she shivered from head to toe. It was only as Hermione approached Harry's side that she started to feel something extremely out of the ordinary…
It felt as if Hermione was walking up to a very strong electrical current, except that it wasn't really a physical force. Then, as she stepped even closer to Harry's side, goosebumps started forming along her skin and she knew exactly what she was feeling. Anyone who'd ever been around an extremely powerful wizard knew what this particular sensation was, but Hermione didn't know what to make of it…
An aura shroud at this distance, and with this much power?
The sensation Hermione was feeling was that of amazingly strong magical power saturating the very air all around her. It felt as if she was walking through a powerful wizard's aura shroud, but with one or two important distinctions. The aura shroud she was standing in wasn't being forced out by a wizard who was trying to intimidate her, but rather the magic was free floating and lazy. Looking over at Harry, Hermione saw that her friend was just standing there and cleaning his glasses.
This was... odd...
"Harry," Hermione began, in a somewhat strained tone of voice. "Can you dial down on the aura shroud please? You don't need to force out that much power anymore."
After replacing his newly polished glasses, Harry turned back towards his friend with a confused expression upon his face. "Umm Hermione. I don't understand. I don't have an aura shroud. I've never had one... I'm not powerful enough for that." Harry was completely confused because Hermione was saying nonsense with a completely serious look upon her face. One thing he did know for sure was that he didn't have an aura. Even while hugging him in the past, Hermione had never sensed a magical aura around his body.
After taking a very deep breath, Hermione moved a few steps closer to Harry, where she stared him in the eyes. "Harry, listen... At the very least I don't think anyone at Hogwarts has ever completely destroyed a Dementor before... including Dumbledore. I'm tired of you marginalizing yourself. Sure, your grades aren't the best in the school, but then you turn around and make the fantastical look merely difficult. You are not a weak wizard... In fact... I'm beginning to think that perhaps you're a little closer to Merlin's side of the spectrum..."
After looking around the clearing in wonder for a few more moments, Hermione snapped out of her daze and pointed at her friend. "Besides. Are you trying to tell me that you don't feel a huge cloud of your magic just free floating around you all willy nilly? It feels like I'm neck deep in your personal space, and I'm still three meters away from you!"
During the moments that followed, Harry checked himself out because Hermione was right and there was something else there... At first he couldn't quite grab ahold of it. He knew that something was different, but he had no idea how to observe it within himself. Then, very suddenly, he felt his perception stretching outwards in profoundly bizarre ways, and the entire world around him seemed to open up. Crying out, Harry cradled his head, because now that he could feel it all, the new sensations and extrasensory perceptions were almost overwhelming in their intensity.
Holy Gods!.. He could feel! He could move! He could interact with the world around him!
Without even being able to explain it, one thing was immediately obvious to Harry. Up until now, his essence, his soul, whatever it was that made him who he was, had been tightly compressed. Not only that, but since he'd always been in that state for as long as he could remember, he'd never noticed that something was wrong...
Now that the intense squeezing feeling was finally gone, Harry felt... light. He felt unencumbered. He felt as if he could move easier, not physically but magically. Then, as he closed his eyes and paid attention to the right things, Harry could actually feel Hermione's aura within the range of his ambient magic.
Holy Gods...
A wizard's range of ambient magic or "aura" usually only extends about half a hand's length away from their body. If you get this close to a witch or wizard then you might be able to feel (some more than others) another person's magical presence or aura. A wizard's aura shroud is widely considered to be a far more intimate level of closeness than mere personal space, because to invade it is to begin feeling the truest essence of the person. Suffice it to say, if you find yourself within someone's ambient field of magic "aka" their aura shroud, and they don't want you there, it's considered extremely rude.
And Harry Potter was currently smothering Hermione Granger within his aura from every direction…
A gasp escaped Harry's mouth as he suddenly realized just how gigantic his newly released aura shroud was, as well as the awkward implications that such a thing might have on his social life. "How is any of this possible," Harry barked, while staring at his hands for answers. "Hermione. What's going on?! It feels like you might as well be sitting on my lap for Gods' sakes!"
Hermione could only nod at her frantic friend's words because, point of fact, that's exactly how it felt. "Harry... I do understand your concern, but we're both just going to have to get over it for now. We really do have to get moving." Forcing herself to move past the awkwardness of the situation, Hermione ran up and grabbed Harry by the hand. Even then, she felt like she might start blushing any second.
Less than a minute later, Harry and Hermione hopped on Buckbeak's back and flew off into the night.
In the end, Harry and a still rather skittish Hermione, returned to the Hospital Wing just in time for the three hours the time turner granted them to come to an end... In fact, since they were right on schedule, they encountered Headmaster Dumbledore just as he was exiting the room.
For the first second and a half, Dumbledore didn't look the least bit surprised to see the two teenagers just standing there in front of him. It was only as Dumbledore finished closing the door behind himself that he began to look confused.
"We're back," Harry quickly announced. "And we were successful."
Dumbledore briefly grinned at that news, but then he began to look confused again. Drawing in a rather deep breath, he pierced Harry with a stare. "Harry... Exactly how and why are you channeling so much of your magic into the air like that?" Dumbledore was dumbfounded by what he was feeling at the moment. He was over a hundred and forty years old and he'd never felt anything like the mass of ambient power that he was currently standing in.
Well... at least not from a human...
Harry looked at Hermione, who looked back at him and then they both turned back towards Dumbledore.
"Well. We kind of had an... adventure again," Harry replied, in a somewhat sheepish tone of voice. "I ended up having to perform some very intense magic and I've been stuck this way ever since." Turning towards Hermione, Harry gave her a wry grin. "I'm lucky I've got someone like Hermione watching my back. She managed to stay on task even though she felt like I was being a right pervert to her."
Despite his cavalier tone, Harry's expression contained a very real apology and Hermione didn't miss it. She nodded her understanding at her friend before turning back towards Dumbledore. "Harry's telling the truth, minus the pervert part." While smiling at Harry again, Hermione crossed her arms in a very stern don't mess with me pose. "His aura shroud feels more like a rather comforting hug."
The two teenagers smiled at each other again, before suddenly breaking down into several hard fits of laughter. Truth be told, their Hippogriff ride had felt a little too intimate for either of their comfort, but with those words they'd managed to successfully move on. They both knew that they were all but family so it would take far more than this to cause them issues.
As the two Gryffindors continued to joke around with each other, Dumbledore took the time to perform a little passive Leglimency on the two of them. His aim was to discern their real thoughts on the aura shroud that Harry was generating. As he'd suspected would be the case, neither of the teenagers had a single clue what had happened to Harry and they were both looking to him for answers. With that much figured out, Dumbledore pulled his focus back into himself. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know that Harry and Hermione had a story to tell. "Okay you two... How about you come back to my office? I'd be interested in hearing about your exciting night in the hospital wing."
Harry and Hermione nodded enthusiastically.
When Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore were released from Dumbledore's Pensieve, the two teenagers stumbled several times and almost fell to the floor. Entering and exiting Pensieve memories felt a lot like using the Floo to travel and neither of the Muggle raised teens were any good at it.
After Harry and Hermione recounted what they'd done earlier in the evening, Dumbledore had asked if he could witness their memories for himself. They'd all just re-watched Hermione's version of Harry's actions from several different angles. Now that they were all back in the here and now, they walked across the room and fell into their respective seats like marionettes with their strings cut.
Dumbledore and Harry dropped to their asses a little harder than Hermione did because they we're both stunned by what they'd just witnessed. Oh sure, Harry had been the one performing the spell, but he'd been entirely consumed by getting past the blockage that was stopping him. He'd only been peripherally aware of the spectacular light show that had taken place around his body, and until now, he'd barely noticed the black wraith that had been ejected from inside of his scar.
Looking down at the skin of his arms, Harry noted that the blisters and redness covering his body were healing with an unnatural quickness. His clothing was still pretty much ruined though...
Slowly turning towards Harry, Dumbledore gave the boy a very meaningful look. "Harry... I think we need to investigate all of this in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey..."
Nodding his head in complete agreement, Harry slowly rose back to his feet. At this point, he was more than ready to get control of his aura shroud. He was magically brushing up against Albus Dumbledore, and it was giving him a case of the willies.
As the three of them walked back towards the Hospital Wing, Harry's carefully controlled sense of optimism finally began to fail him. By the time they arrived at their destination and took their first breath of sterile, medically scented air, he was beginning to feel a sense of impending doom. The sensation grew that much worse when they finally walked into the Hospital wing only to have Madam Pomfrey come flying out of her private alcove looking rattled in the extreme.
Looking down at his feet, Harry rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. Madam Pomfrey had just reacted to his presence while he was still a little over six meters away from her. The fact that she'd already felt his shroud could only mean that the problem with his aura was getting worse, rather than better. His shroud was even wider than it'd been an hour ago!
After taking one long look at young Harry Potter, Poppy Pomfrey pointed back towards the bed that he'd been laying in just an hour earlier. "Sit, now."
After obediently nodding his head, Harry continued to stand where he was, with noticeable hesitation plain to see upon his features. "Ummm Madam Pomfrey. I'm really feeling quite alright at the moment. Truth be told, I feel like I've been wearing enormous Iron manacles around my magic until now. As awkward as I know this is, I feel like I can breathe right now. I feel like I can feel for the very first time in my... in my entire life. I... I agree that I need to stop touching everyone, but..."
With no way to really explain how he felt, Harry looked down at his feet again. He was feeling extremely conflicted at the moment...
After clucking at Harry's nervous expression like a mother would, Madam Pomfrey put her hands on her hips in a very stereotypical fashion. "Harry... Right now, standing three meters away from you, I feel like you're rubbing against my body... magically speaking of course. It's too much for an old widowed witch like me to handle, so let's find out what's going on with you, shall we?"
While blushing a vibrantly bright red, Harry realized that Madam Pomfrey was right. He couldn't keep invading other people's personal space just because his current lack of control felt good... He needed to man up because doing the right thing very rarely meant doing the comfortable thing.
Ugh...
Walking across the room, Harry took a seat in his traditional bed and then looked back at the elderly healer. "Thank you Madam Pomfrey, and I apologize for the trouble." Laying back on the mattress, Harry stared despondently up at the ceiling. He was far too frustrated with all of this to make nice with anyone anymore. In fact, now that nothing else was occupying his attention, Harry started getting pretty upset that his life can't ever just be normal.
"It's no big deal to me Harry," Hermione injected softly, from where she was sitting on his left. "It's not like I haven't hugged you before anyway." When her words failed to comfort her friend, Hermione grabbed at his cheek and forced him to look at her. She had a plan. Even if Harry wouldn't cheer up for himself, he WOULD cheer up for her... "Listen, Harry... Can you cheer up a bit for me?... Your magic isn't as comfortable as it was before..."
Until his friend brought it to his attention, Harry hadn't noticed the difference that his mood was making within his shroud. Hermione was right. He could immediately sense the change that had taken place within his magic. His aura was obviously reflecting his negativity in how it felt to those around him. It felt chilly and grating at the moment, as it projected his negativity out into the world.
Well... Damn.
Harry couldn't have that. He refused to allow himself to foist his upset feelings upon his friends. Very suddenly, he decided that if he absolutely must surround everyone in the room with his aura, the very least he could do is channel some positivity into it. Over the next couple of seconds, Harry focused on how lucky he was to have Hermione in his life, warming up his aura quite a bit.
Almost immediately, Dumbledore and Pomfrey looked more at ease, while to Harry's surprise Hermione sank to her chair like she was taking a nice hot bath.
"Oh Harr, that's quite nice. Feel free to think I'm amazing some more," Hermione whispered, as she leaned back and closed her eyes.
Harry smiled as he projected a sense of how much he'd enjoyed seeing her as a half-human, half-cat hybrid, complete with ears and tail, via polyjuice.
Hermione suddenly blushed a deep red as Harry somehow made himself understood. She never heard him say a word but she was under the impression that Harry was extremely amused by something very funny/cute that she'd done in the past. Despite her somewhat unjustified feeling of embarrassment, she was happy that her friend was happy again.
As the two teens kept each other occupied, Madam Pomfrey approached Harry's bed, so that she could perform a medical diagnosis spell. The Examorbus spell is designed to impart information regarding anything of significance that has been altered within a wizard's body or core within a certain amount of time. A huge portion of what it takes to be a good Healer is whether or not a person is gifted at the simple charm that she was about to perform. Indeed, the charm itself is quite easy to complete. It's the ability to accurately interpret the various information the charm imparts into the mind of the caster that is the truly difficult part. Poppy Pomfrey was one of the best Healers alive and was frequently asked to diagnose people from all over the world from her home base here at Hogwarts.
As she completed her Examorbus spell, Madam Pomfrey motioned for Dumbledore to join her. Then, when he stepped close, she tried to whisper into his ear, but in her excitement she was far too loud to keep a secret. "Dumbledore… That thing that you told me to ignore is completely gone."
Dumbledore immediately nodded with a look of relief upon his face.
After that mysterious statement, Madam Pomfrey returned her attention back to her diagnosis spell. Over time, she began to look more and more upset at what she was finding.
As more and more time went by, Madam Pomfrey's increasingly unhappy expression started freaking Harry out. The fact that she was losing her composure made him want to jump out of the bed and shake the woman for answers. He didn't. He controlled himself. Madam Pomfrey was focused on her spell, so he forced himself to stay still and out of her way. Instead, Harry continued projecting funny and or embarrassing Hermione memories towards his best friend in order to try to stay upbeat.
At this point, Hermione looked insane, because she kept blushing and or laughing at irregular intervals, as she was affected by his shroud.
By the time four minutes had passed, Madam Pomfrey was starting to turn a ghostly white color, causing Harry's nerves to be stretched to their limit as a result. His hands clenched tightly at his sides, when suddenly he caught sight of tear tracks running unnoticed down her cheeks. Madam Pomfrey just didn't do emotional. The fact that she was crying was a sign of the apocalypse if ever he'd seen one, and he suddenly feared whatever it was she had to say.
When Madam Pomfrey finally found the root cause for Harry's current condition, she tore her eyes off of the boy, so that she could glower at the Headmaster instead. "Dumbledore you senile old goat! The boy lying next to me is both a miracle and an impossibility! Ohhhhh, yoouu have some explaining to do, and you're going to do it now! Harry was given an Eramus Servientus potion, Dumbledore! He was given a permanent Bondage potion as a baby! Your meddling should have gotten Harry killed by the time he was four years old!"
At first Dumbledore looked completely stunned by Madam Pomfrey's words. He was legitimately shocked, which caused him to look back and forth between Harry and his Healer several times in rapid order. Thankfully for everyone involved, the man's confusion didn't last very long. After just two or three seconds, the bewildered look slipped off of Dumbledore's face, at which point he began to look absolutely livid instead. He visibly boiled over with rage as he straightened and stared right back at his Healer. "I tasked a man that I trusted with giving Harry a simple accidental magic bind. The potion he was supposed to give Harry would cease to exist by the time he was four or five years old... I did not ask him to completely strangle a baby boy of his magic!"
Dumbledore was losing it big time now, and his magic was flaring all throughout the room.
As the Headmaster's rage-fueled aura was projected out into the room to commingle with his own, Harry learned several different things at exactly the same time. Dumbledore was waaaay more emotional than anyone would ever have been able to catch just by looking at his carefully bland appearance. Hell, Harry could actually feel the man magically repressing and controlling his own roiling, bucking emotions. If Harry had to guess, he'd say that Albus Dumbledore... paragon of virtue and light in the magical world... was trying to stop himself from committing murder!
Next, Harry sensed that the Headmaster owned two wands. One wand was in his robe pocket like normal and one was resting in a secret holster around his right thigh. Harry could also tell that the man was obscenely strong (obviously) and his body was literally riddled with defensive magics. While Harry had absolutely no idea how it was happening, he was picking up an uncontrollable flood of information through his magical senses, and it was being channeled into him all at once. In fact, as more and more information was forced into his mind, Harry began having trouble focusing on the here and now.
With all of the extrasensory distractions being foisted upon Harry's overburdened mind, he was having trouble organizing his thoughts in any helpful, structured way. Soon enough, Harry had his hands on his temples again, because there was way too much new and he couldn't keep up. Lots and lots of new... New information, new feelings, new emotions, new awareness of the living things around him, and new senses that he couldn't begin to name let alone interpret. In a moment of desperate need, Harry yelled out into the completely quiet room.
"Headmaster! You're overwhelming me with information right now! I need you to restrain your magic!" Dammit control yourself, Harry berated himself over and over... He didn't have time to continue unraveling like this. He needed answers ASAP, so he couldn't afford to be completely consumed by Dumbledore's aura.
Dumbledore's out of control anger was halted right in his tracks by Harry's amazing pronouncement. Over the next couple of seconds he strangled his magic back into his body and then turned towards his student with a serious expression on his face. "Harry... What did you mean by what you just said? Your magic is picking up information for you?" Dumbledore was completely flabbergasted for the fourth or fifth time in just a little over an hour (he was losing track).
Crossing his arms across his chest, Harry gave Dumbledore his most no nonsense look. "No. Not this time Dumbledore... I think we should start at the beginning. Why am I an impossibility and why should I be dead?!"
With a nod of her head, Madam Pomfrey walked over to Harry's side and sat down at the edge of his bed. "Harry... When you were an infant it appears you were performing a lot of accidental magic." She stared at Dumbledore, waiting for confirmation, and then she sighed when the man reluctantly nodded his head. "It sounds like Dumbledore asked a colleague of his to create a common potion that would've kept you from accessing most of your magic. It's only purpose would've been to contain some of your magic, until you were out of infancy and more in control."
When he realized that the story was going to be told whether he liked it or not, Dumbledore stepped forward and crouched down next to Harry's bed. "Try to understand Harry... You were going to be living with the Dursleys, and they don't appreciate magic. You were floating, turning things blue, and Vanishing vegetables. You were a magical terror of a baby. Of course your parents were extremely proud of it all, but Petunia and Vernon would've put you in an orphanage the very first time it happened. I wanted to give the Dursleys a chance to love you like the family that they are. That's the reason why I asked an associate of mine to brew a potion to bind your magic for a few years. It seems I seriously misjudged the man's character."
At this point, Dumbledore's teeth were about to shatter from the way he was gritting them.
For Hermione's sake, Harry kept his aura light even as his reply to Dumbledore was not. "Headmaster... If you thought that those... people... would ever come to love me... then your associate wasn't the only person you judged poorly."
Dumbledore blanched, then started to say something in his own defense, but he was interrupted when Madam Pomfrey stepped in front of him.
After physically pulling Harry's attention away from Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey turned to give the Headmaster the stink eye over her shoulder. While the man definitely had some explaining to do, now wasn't the time. Harry's anxiety was slipping into his aura and Pomfrey needed to explain the situation so that he'd calm back down. Turning back around, Madam Pomfrey locked eyes with her charge and prepared to explain a great many things.
"Listen carefully, Harry," Pomphrey demanded as calmly as she could. "The person who brewed your binding potion created a very rare variation that's both extremely illegal to make and far too immoral to administer. He gave you a potion called Eramus Servientus. This potion is used on extremely strong and dangerous magical beasts to permanently bind their magic inside their cores. If it's used on a wizard... any wizard, then they're immediately rendered into a squib if not killed outright from shock."
As Madam Pomfrey continued her explanation, Harry found himself becoming more and more confused. "Uhhh. Madam Pomfrey," he began slowly, with intense levels of confusion written on his face. "I know I'm not the best student in my year, but I'm not a squib either. If I focus hard enough, I'm definitely capable of performing magic… How can I be?..."
For perhaps the first time since she'd performed her diagnostic spell, Madam Pomfrey smiled, as she patted Harry softly on his shoulder. "Harry... That's exactly why I just said you're a miracle… You shouldn't have been able to use magic at all and that would've been the ideal outcome for an adult wizard. Circumstances are much, much more dire for any poor infant administered that particular potion... There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt... Harry Potter you should be long dead."
At Harry's blank look, Pomfrey rubbed his hand and gave him a soft, warm smile. "Let me try to explain, Harry. First of all, wizards aren't merely people with magic inside of them. Wizards are their magic, period. Magic isn't just something we can access and use, but rather it's incorporated in our very souls, incorporated in our bodies, and it's just as vital to us as our life's blood is. Unlike muggles or non magical creatures, wizards NEED their magic just to grow and develop as they age. A normal wizard is completely saturated in their own magic as they grow older, which is the reason why we're so comparatively healthy, strong and long lived. I can't even begin to explain the wide variety of ways the binding on your core has stunted and damaged your body up until this point."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head and looked at the floor as she continued. "The common Accidental magic potions that are usually given to babies only suppress extra magic that can lead to inconvenient accidental spells and such. Those potions leave behind plenty of magic for the babies in question to develop at a normal pace. What you were given, Harry..." Madam Pomfrey shook her head again and wiped away a stray tear. "You shouldn't have been able to grow at all, have normal useful organs, develop the brain you have, the coordination, thought, all of it. You should've died a mass of undeveloped organs and tissues by the age of three or four at the most."
Hermione was beginning to cry at this point, so Harry took the time to project how much he loved her for punching Malfoy in the face earlier that night.
While Harry's efforts to cheer her up were well intentioned, all he'd managed to do was make Hermione feel worse. Harry was such a good, kind person, and he always had to suffer like this. The injustice of it all was making her cry, and Harry's kind attention was just fuel on the fire.
While it didn't look like it was working, Harry tried to stay positive as he asked the question that needed asking. "So, then... How am I alive?"
For the first time in a very long time Madam Pomfrey wasn't a hundred percent sure. She had a theory of course, but it was just so fantastically improbable. Either way, the boy deserved an answer and she was going to give it to him. "Harry... I am a very qualified healer. I'm not just some ordinary school nurse, Hogwarts pays me extremely well to be here, because I have seen it all and I have done it all... That being said... I cannot definitively explain how you're both alive and as highly functioning as you are. The best I can do for now is a theory, which will need to be verified over the next few weeks. My theory is this. You have a very adaptable magical core, unbelievably versatile magic and more power than any ten fully matured adult wizards put together. I also think you may have more potential for wandless magic than Merlin did..."
Dumbledore's face quickly swiveled toward the elderly Healer. "How do you know this?"
Madam Pomfrey gave Dumbledore a frustrated look at his interruption. "Like I just said, I haven't confirmed anything yet. I only have a theory because it's literally the only way Harry could have lived past infancy. I think Harry's magical core refused to just give up. I think it began straining against the bindings, creating a series of small, fast repairing leaks time and time again. These leaks wouldn't have lasted long enough for any noticeable amount of magic to get through at any one time. Under normal circumstances only trace amounts of magic would've been released every time a leak was created. For that reason, I believe Harry's core was pushing and straining to create those leaks at max power twenty-four hours a day, all day, every day."
Madam Pomfrey turned back towards Harry as she finished her explanation. "Harry... What I've described would be the only way your core could provide enough magic to keep you both alive and developing."
As Harry digested everything he'd heard so far, Madam Pomfrey rubbed a comforting hand up and down his back. She wasn't finished her explanation yet, not by a long shot, but there was no need to overwhelm her charge.
A few moments later, when Harry appeared to understand what she'd already explained, Pomphrey turned back towards Dumbledore. "The next impossible thing toddler Harry accomplished would be what he did when he finally managed to force his magic out of the bindings..."
Pomfrey turned Harry's chin to her and addressed him directly. "Harry... Just because your magic leaked out of the bindings and was free of your core, doesn't mean it could've achieved anything alone... At that point it would've become separated from your magical core by the bindings. The magic would've become completely directionless with nothing to guide it, becoming what is commonly referred to as ambient, free floating, magic... Any of the magic floating directionless around your body would've needed to be manually or "intent ordered" into acting on your behalf. I personally believe magic is somewhat sentient, but for the purposes of regenerating and developing your infant body it would've needed real intent based directions from a wizard. What I'm about to say is a fact and is one of the irrefutable laws of magic. Your magic would NOT have just leaked out of your core and fixed you for no reason. Ambient magic just doesn't do that... EVER. You would have to have been willing the magic to do the things it did to keep you alive. I can't begin to explain how you were able to do it Harry. You, as an infant, through will power alone, forced the separated, directionless, ambient magic floating in and around you, to do very specific jobs as you grew up. You subconsciously, wandlessly, willed magic that was separate from you, to continually repair your bones, hair, organs, skin, brain, heart, the list goes on forever and you only would've been three years old at the time! I tend to believe your young age and ignorance actually helped you survive it all. You didn't know that it was supposed to be impossible... All you knew at the time was that you were in excruciating agony and you needed the pain to end."
When Madam Pomfrey turned back towards Dumbledore again, her face held nothing but a hundred percent certainty. "If Harry can't completely master wandless magic, then no one on earth can." Turning back towards Harry, Madam Pomfrey took a very deep breath. "Harry. This is going to be a very uncomfortable summer for you."
For the length of Madam Pomfrey's explanation, Dumbledore had been staring at Harry as if he was a zoo animal, but at the Healer's newest warning his head snapped towards her, with an audible crack of his neck. "You're not saying?..."
"Oh yes," Madam Pomfrey replied, with the exact same certainty as before. "Just like how a magical child grows much faster once free of even the weakest magical binding, Harry here is about to experience some extremely rapid development. Harry, I mean no offense when I say this, but you're a fourteen year old with the physical maturity of an eleven year old."
Harry could only nod his head because what Madam Pomfrey was saying was perfectly obvious to everyone.
After patting Harry on the shoulder again, Madam Pomfrey rose back to her feet. "Well, I'd wager that by the end of the summer, you'll look sixteen at the very least. I need you to understand this, Harry. Whether or not you're physically here (she gestured to the Hospital Wing). This summer I own you, body and soul. You will follow my every command. You will eat like a madman, take my disgusting magical health supplements and work out religiously in order to ensure you develop correctly. You'll need to do all of these things despite the fact that your body is going to pain you like Skelegro is being forced down your throat every morning. Harry, I know very well that you're tough... but this summer, I'm going to make you cry."
Pomfrey smiled at this point and patted the side of Harry's face. "I wouldn't even bother if you weren't worth it."
Dumbledore started trying to interject...
With no warning whatsoever, Madam Pomfrey rounded on Dumbledore with the ferocity of an alpha predator. "NO! The boy's situation is not under control Albus, you old fool! This is no time for Harry to be starved, beaten and locked up in his bedroom Albus! I will quit your service if you push me on this!"
Hermione gasped and her hands flew up to her face.
At first Harry was shocked that the Healer knew all about the Dursley's particular form of parenting, but when he really thought about it he shouldn't have been. He'd been a patient of hers often enough in the past and his many, many scars weren't exactly... subtle. In that moment, while Madam Pomfrey was flying to his defense, he grew to love the woman like family.
For the last three years, Madam Pomfrey had spent the lion's share of her time completely livid with Dumbledore over Harry James Potter. She was a professional so she could easily see the signs of terrible abuse every time the boy was in her care. She'd informed Dumbledore immediately after meeting Harry for the first time, but Albus had said that it was under control and necessary for the boy's own protection. Gods only know what nonsensical plan Dumbledore was referring to, but Pomfrey was determined to finally make the man see reason.
Turning towards the stubborn old Headmaster again, Pomfrey gave the elderly man her most no nonsense look. "Look. There's a second reason why Harry can't go to his muggle neighborhood right now and it's more immediately pressing. Harry has to retrain his magic all summer starting immediately. As things stand now he has zero control over his magical aura-shroud. Even though his shroud isn't actually all that dangerous, if Harry steps foot in a Muggle populated area of Britain, he'll destroy the statute of secrecy almost immediately."
Dumbledore couldn't help himself. He looked at Poppy curiously.
Rolling her eyes at the Headmaster's willful ignorance, Madam Pomfrey gestured towards the old wizard with both of her hands. "Oh come on Albus. Isn't it obvious? Even you would find it almost impossible to project an aura shroud like the one Harry's currently releasing. Keep in mind I'm talking about maintaining this level of shroud for mere moments, not the casual way that Harry's filling this room. It's completely absurd how widespread and hungry Harry's magic has become and I'd wager it's a direct result of him surviving the binding. In order to get literally anything magical done, including living and growing, Harry's core has had to push magic outwards like it was the end of the world, all day, every day! Now that the bindings containing his magic are destroyed, this has become Harry's new normal."
Madam Pomfrey gestured expansively at the cloud of ambient magic that they were all just standing around in. "Harry Potter has no idea what it even feels like not to be forcing out every scrap of his magic, at full power, at all times. The fact that he could get out of bed in the morning, walk, talk, go to classes, focus in those classes, play Quidditch for Gods' sakes, it's all remarkable beyond measure."
Everyone in the room took a moment to fully digest just how incredible it was that Harry was alive, intelligent and sane. They all collapsed where they were, exhausted because of what they'd just learned. Dumbledore, Hermione and Madam Pomfrey just sat there, feeling like they were magically rubbing up against Harry.
After a few quiet moments passed, Harry projected to Hermione how much it'd meant to him when she'd had his back during second year. When everyone else in the school had forsaken him as the so-called "Heir of Slytherin," Hermione had been the only person who didn't shy away.
While Hermione didn't know the exact memory that Harry was thinking about, the fact that he cared about her was obvious. Over the next couple of seconds, she found herself smiling and sobbing at exactly the same time.
Turning back towards Harry, Dumbledore shrugged in an expressive way. "Well... There's three more days in the school term Harry, but I'm sorry to inform you, you're going to be staying here (he gestured to the ward). I'll find some Occlumency books for you to study in the meantime. They've just become extremely important to you, if you ever want to exist normally amongst your peers..."
"Occlumency," Harry repeated, without any recognition in his voice.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied, in a rare businesslike tone. "Occlumency is a brand of magic centered around controlling your mind and your thoughts. At a basic level it's only intended to protect your thoughts from mind reading. In the wizarding world mind reading is called Leglimency. At Occlumency's most advanced levels, you can build a Mindscape and attain broader control of your body, memories, emotions and most importantly for you Harry, your magic." Dumbledore laughed, even as he shook his head. "Well, at least you'll be motivated Harry. Unless... You don't want to walk into the Great Hall and magically rub up against all of the girls, in every house, all at once, do you?"
After turning vaguely white at the prospect, Harry laughed and shook his head. "That sounds extremely dangerous sir."
"Exactly," Dumbledore replied, with a smile.
For the last few days Harry had been quarantined like a leper in the Hospital Wing of the school. During that time, no one had ever bothered explaining to him where he'd be spending his summer. At first he'd fantasized that he would be sent to stay with his Godfather Sirius. Too bad the man was still the number one fugitive in the entire country and hiding out Gods only know where. No, it seemed that Harry's presence wasn't welcome anywhere at the moment, so he had no idea what Dumbledore was intending to do with him. For obvious reasons the situation was less than ideal and Harry resented the fact that he was being kept in the dark... again.
There was a bright side however. For the entire length of time that he'd been kept in the Hospital Wing, Harry'd been meditating and building the foundations of what would become an extremely well-Occluded mind. After reading no less than five books on the subject, Harry'd decided that if he had to sit around then he might as well be constructive with his time. At the moment he was a captive audience, so he was thankful that the Occlumency books were as interesting as they were. There was also the fact that Harry in particular would get a lot out of this particular branch of magic.
In the past, whenever Hermione accused Harry of being both mercurial and broody he'd never been able to defend himself... He couldn't. He didn't have a single leg to stand on... His poor emotional control paired with a shite childhood wasn't doing him any favors in that regard, and as a result he'd never been what anyone would call the life of the party. Now that he'd read all of these Occlumency textbooks, Harry knew that there was actually something he could do about his lack of emotional maturity, and the prospect had him excited.
Hell, just a few days earlier, Harry saw for himself the benefits of attaining powerful Occlumency through Dumbledore… His Headmaster had used Occlumency to reign in a peak of anger so intense he'd never seen anything quite like it.
Wait... Seen?
Harry had a definite feeling of having SEEN Dumbledore's anger, and not just through the man's rather obvious facial features. Harry began to think that his magic was going to provide him a lot of information, if he could ever get control of it. There was also a more obvious and immediate reason why Harry needed better control of his emotions. He was currently broadcasting them out into the world through his magic, and affecting the people around him in negative ways… and he refused to allow this to continue…
Harry would not, could not allow his moodiness to infect the people around him like a black cloud all the damned time. With that thought in mind, Harry curled his feet under himself again and began the breathing practices recommended in all of the Occlumency books. He found himself centered with relative ease, after many, many failed attempts, and he began attempting to seek out his magical core...
"Harry?"
Cracking open his eyes, Harry saw that Hermione had come to visit him again. She was in on the secret regarding his magic, and didn't seem to be overly bothered by the intimate environment his magic created. Harry had always known that Hermione was down for a hug, so he went out of his way to make sure that's what his shroud felt like for her. As his friend sat down in the chair next to his bed, Harry projected what it felt like to receive a Hermione hug (legendary). While generating the emotion in his shroud, Harry was momentarily lost in the memory involved and a small wry grin spread upon his face.
Hermione arched an eyebrow at Harry's grin. "I don't think I like the thought that just went through your head, Mr Potter."
Grinning at his best friend, Harry had to concede that Hermione could see right through him like no one else he knew. "I just remembered that you were the very first person to ever hug me, and then I realized just how ironic this whole situation is… For the most part, I still find myself shying away from casual affection, and yet I'm invading absolutely everyone's personal space, to throw around big, unwelcome hugs."
In the end, Harry's joke was completely ignored in the face of something far more important. Hermione hadn't known until just that moment that she was the very first person to EVER hug Harry. She didn't actually intend to react so strongly to this new information, but the question spluttered out of her mouth unbidden. "Ever, Harry? your relatives never… in eleven years?"
After shrugging dismissively, Harry eased back against the bed's headboard and nodded a little more seriously. Truly, he couldn't even imagine any of the Dursleys trying to hug him, and the very idea of it gave him a case of the shivers.
At Harry's confirmation, Hermione collapsed into the chair next to his bed, completely blown away. She briefly thought about hugging her friend right then and there, but Harry was finally revealing some of his life to her, and she didn't want to scare him off. Without moving a muscle, she drew in a very deep, calming breath, counted to five, and then smiled at her friend as if his life wasn't completely heartbreaking. "I'm impressed you told me all that Harry. Is the Occlumency training helping you?"
"Well, no. I don't think there's a convenient magical solution that has me spilling my guts," Harry replied, while gazing up at the ceiling. But then he propped himself up using half a dozen stolen pillows and grinned aside at his most studious friend. "The truth is, I've been meditating like twelve hours a day for the last three days. I'm feeling pretty damn centered at the moment."
Both Harry and Hermione grinned at that because yeah, that would definitely do it.
"I do feel like I'll be good at this Occlumency stuff pretty soon though," Harry offered in an offhand manner. "Just before you entered the room, I was aiming to encounter my magical core. I think I felt it nearby." Shrugging his shoulders, Harry waved his hands noncommittally. "I guess when it comes to magic, I can say something vague like 'I felt it' and it might actually mean something huh."
"Not in Arithmancy though," Hermione countered, in an amused tone of voice.
"Hermione, back to what we were talking about before," Harry ventured. "I was thinking…"
"Go ahead," Hermione said, still acting nonchalant. She pulled out a book and settled it on her lap.
"Well I think I might adopt you as family, Hermione..." Harry wasn't looking over at Hermione right now because despite his casual tone he was feeling a little bit embarrassed. "My family sucks, so I'm going to steal you from yours."
"Okay then, I'm your sister. I demand full disclosure."
Harry arched an eyebrow in question.
"Tell me all about your life," Hermione explained, while looking up from her book with a serious expression. "Tell me everything, and I'll be your sister for life through anything. I know you think your upbringing makes you weak, but once you train your Occlumency, you'll see that it's exactly the opposite."
At first, Harry nodded his understanding, but then he shook his head. "I'm going to train my Occlumency first then. Afterwards, I'll get back to you. I'm still going to call you sis whether or not you give me permission or not though." Harry smiled up at the ceiling again because yes, yes he would, and he was already feeling pretty damned good about it.
Hermione smiled even as she shook her head. "Well, I had to try, didn't I?"
Smiling softly at his best friend, Harry put a hand on her forearm. She was right after all. Hermione did try and she never ever quit, it just wasn't in her nature. "I appreciate how you've always tried Mione. I know I need to talk about it at some point, but it's all just so messed up and awful... I'm not quite there yet sis, but when I am I'll let you know. Self-awareness doesn't always make you strong it seems."
Smiling back at Harry, Hermione took her new nickname in stride. Harry really did love her like family, and she could feel that much in his shroud. On the other hand, she thought her friend was selling himself short. "Harry... I think strength is a relative thing where you're concerned. You bounce back and forth on that front from one second to the next. You'd sacrifice every ounce of yourself until there's nothing left to save your friends... Making yourself vulnerable, sharing your life and feelings is another matter entirely.
While Hermione's words made him feel just a little bit embarrassed, Harry still ended up nodding his agreement. He'd put himself in danger for his friends without any hesitation several times in the past and they both knew it. Exposing himself emotionally on the other hand... Well, that felt all but impossible and scary in a massive way.
Turning his body towards Hermione, Harry leaned a little closer to his newfound sister. "Actually, Poppy told me something two days ago that's changed how I look at my shyness and introversion. She explained that I might be an isolated person like I am as a direct result of the bindings that were on my core. She said that up until three days ago, I'd never magically "felt" anything around me before. She implied that the binding of my magic would've made me feel like I was all alone in the entire world, even while I'm completely surrounded by people. I know I can feel you now and it's making me feel… emotional."
Hermione extended a hand to hold Harry's. "I've always been with you Harry."
Squeezing his sister's hand in return, Harry smiled. "I knew that Mione, I just never felt it."
Looking up at the wall clock, Harry saw that it was almost time for the train to leave back to London. As reluctant as Harry was to see his friend go, he pointed at the clock to inform Hermione of the time.
At Harry's prompting, Hermione looked at the wall clock and then blanched in alarm. "You're a lifesaver, Harry. I need to hurry to the Entry Hall! I was distracted because you've become the most relaxing reading environment on the face of the planet." Giving her brother one last smile, Hermione scrambled to pick up all of her assorted books and quills. Then, when she was packed and ready to go, Hermione turned her attention back to Harry. "As soon as you know where you're going for the summer, you will owl me won't you?"