New


Looking at his glasses—new, repaired, with no more cracks shining through the surface of the glass—made him feel some sort of accomplishment. After all, hadn't he been the one worrying about failing at Hogwarts just the previous year? Now, it was an achieved goal. He was able to do magic. He could do real magic, not just the phony kind one would see at a Muggle's show. It made him feel warm inside, and no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he couldn't mask the fact that he was positively radiant.

Because he had fixed his glasses on his own, without Hermione whispering directions at him, or Arthur Weasley snatching them from him and fixing them before he could even try. It was the first time, ever, and now they looked brand new. Actually, they seemed better than new. And finally, he was not helpless Harry Potter, the one that needed constant security, but he was a wizard. He was not the wizard, he was a wizard—he was like everyone else. He didn't have to do fancy tricks to be special.

No matter how many times he repeated this in his head, he couldn't seem to grasp it. Finally, he could be just like Ron and Hermione. He wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb, because he had just done ordinary magic, but magic nonetheless. This time, it didn't take Voldemort, or Tom Riddle, or anyone but himself for the magic to appear.

Maybe Harry Potter could start fresh. He would no longer be recognized as the Chosen One, but instead he would be recognized as a skilled wizard.

Nononono—stupidstupidstupid—are you crazy? He could hear his jumbled thoughts reprimanding him for letting such an idea soak into his brain, but he still couldn't wipe the notion from his mind.

Because, after all, Harry Potter still wanted to start over.


A/N: Well, I still don't know what I'm getting myself into, with this one-hundred drabbles thing, but I plan to have fun with it. Oh, and the word count for this, excluding Author's Notes, was 316 words. Please review, and I hope you enjoyed.