Disclaimer: Unfortunently, I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or anything related to the work(other than a Slytherin scarf I found in Oxfam, its really cool).
Warning: There will be slash. You are forewarned.
After the death of Albus Dumbledore, pandemonium reigned in the shaken Wizarding World. Dark mist and thick grey cloud hung perpetually in the air, so much so, that day was not so very different from night. Death Eater activity rose to new and terrifying heights and the wizarding people lived in fear. All those who opposed the word of the Dark Lord and his servants were disappearing with frightening regularity. Those left behind held little hope that they would ever be seen again. Only the very brave, or the very stupid, some said, carried on as normal with strained faces and fearful eyes. The rest removed themselves from everything, the war and the never ending deaths.
The hope for escape from this dangerous, new world, rested on the thin shoulders of a bespectacled young man with messy black hair and a thin lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Harry Potter was sitting at the window of his little bedroom, reading The Daily Prophet. These days he could tell ever before he opened the rag what would be gracing its pages. Harry checked them off his list as he leafed through it. Ministry rubbish, check, Harry Potter, our One, True Saviour, blah, blah, blah and finally the wanted posters.
His blood boiled as his eyes skimmed over the images of the Death Eaters. He came to those of Bellatrix LeStrange and Severus Snape and fought the urge to set the blasted rag alight. Two pairs of dark, hollow eyes stared back at him. One pair gleamed with malicious glee and incurable madness, the other with something that Harry could not put a name to, something that looked so very familiar. But that little bit of familiarity did nothing to stem the violent eruption of rage that seemed to stem from his very soul. Before he knew it the paper was a mere pile of ash in his hands.
Harry dropped the smoulder ash in shock. He had never set something alight before and it scared him quite a bit that he had done it now. Before now his accidental magic had been just that, accidental. He had not wanted to blow up Marge, although it had been sort of funny but this time was different. He had been thinking about burning the rag only moments before he actually did it. This time was different, Harry could feel it.
He waited for the inevitable Ministry owl to arrive. With this forth breach of the under-age sorcery laws, he was just waiting for a Ministry official to come along , snap his wand and boot his rear end out of Hogwarts forever. There was no way he could get away with another infraction. Dumbledore was not here to protect and help him any longer and the new Minister for Magic was not a fan of his, to say the least. Harry felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of losing his wand, wishing that the Headmaster was here to help him.
Thinking of the seemingly dotty and benign old man always conjured up so many conflicting feelings for the young man. He could but smile at the Dumbledore he had encountered first, with his ridiculous words, phrases and odd love of sherbet lemons and the Dumbledore who had conducted the entire student body through the school song, even Fred and George's funeral march. The fond smile fell from his face when he thought of the Dumbledore who had refused to look at him for an entire year and the one who had begged him in that cursed cave. There had never been just one of him. Once upon a time Harry had thought the old Headmaster had known everything there was to know. But as he got older and more and more happened, he saw that he was just a man, albeit a scarily intelligent one.
Harry gave a deep sigh and shook his head to clear of such thoughts. Thinking of those things just hurt. He walked over to the loose floorboard and pulled out a defence book. He opened it and ran his fingers over the Hogwarts ticket inside. "Well past its due date," he thought with a slight grin. Harry sat down again and gladly lost himself in the yellowed pages of curses, counter curses and magical weapons and ignored the tinge of worry at the back of his mind.
When he looked up again, the sky outside had darkened even more. Harry glanced at the mended clock on the shelf. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hours had passed since he had destroyed the paper. "Perhaps they've ignored it this time because its so close to my birthday," he thought but then dismissed the thought at once. True, he would be seventeen in a matter of days. However he did not think that was the Ministry's reason for ignoring his bout of magic.
The wheels turned in Harry's mind as he thought through the situation carefully. Something niggled at the back of his mind. He jumped up from his seat and almost slid to the loose floorboard. He rifled through the books hidden there, until at last he found what he was looking for. Magical Laws For Magical Matters: A History of Law Surrounding Magic in its Many Forms by Emile Faust. He had barely glanced through the thick tome when Hermione had first given it to him.
He swept through the pages to the index and quickly turned to the chapter he wanted.
Wandless Magic: The Ungovernable Magical Phenomenon.
For centuries, since the founding of the Ministry for Magic, one majestic power has steadily alluded the control of any public authority. Wandless magic has long been a thing of mystical quality. Perhaps it is this innate mysticism that has protected it from the regulation which other forms of magical expression quickly came under e.g.: wand usage, potions, borderline magic, human transfiguration and study of the Dark Arts etc.
Wandless magic, unlike its surprisingly similar relative, Wand enabled magic, transmits a particular signature when utilised. This signature is undetectable to all but the most sensitive and indeed complicated of Magical detectors. It is also completely unique to any specific magical being. However simultaneously the signatures of human wandless magic and magical creature originated magic are completely indistinguishable from one another.
Harry shut the heavy book with a dull thud. A smirk spread over his face. The Ministry can't detect it. Harry doubted the minister would be willing to fork out the gold for one of the detectors. He looked a the Defense book sitting on the window sill. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the book. Beads of sweat began to pop out on his forehead and his head was begining to ache but when the book flew towards him, he managed to catch it. A grim smile broke out on his face. He would master this wandless magic and when he did, neither Voldemort or Snape would know what hit them.
