Disclaimer: I make no money from any of my atempts at entertaining on this site. J. K. Rowling's owns Harry Potter and I am just playing the what if game with her characters.

Harry loves Magic

and

Magic loves Harry

His heart was pounding so fast and loud he felt it beating in his eardrums. It was not the first time Harry had experienced this level of terror. But he believed this hunt would end much worse than the many previous "Harry hunts". He had made a very poor decision to hide in the dumpster near his school. His eyes were squeezed shut while his arms covered his head. He could hear them approaching what he considered his soon to be coffin. Harry was in the midst of an over due emotional break. He had suffered at the hands of all who were suppose to protect or give him love and support. If his cousin Dudley and his gang killed him and left him in this dumpster. That would at least set him free.

~ O ~

He was laying on his back now and felt much calmer. The air was fresh and breezy as he slowly opened his eyes. Nothing but blue sky with scattered white clouds lay before him. For a brief moment it seemed that maybe he had gotten his wish. They finally managed to kill him, he was free. In the distance he could just begin to hear his cousin and his gang. They were taunting him to come out of hiding and take his beating. So they could head home for supper. Still on his back Harry turned his head towards their jeers. It was then that he saw a Frisbee lying next to his head. Beyond that he saw the schools chimney. Some how he had gotten on the school roof. Three stories above ground. He knew this would just get added to the Freak list his relatives kept. The list seemed to serve as their ordained right to treat him the way they always have.

What was it that made him such a Freak? Did he really make all those things on that list happen? Or did someone or something else make them happen? Harry closed his eyes and let the list play out as clear as he could remember. Some things on the list were about how even as a baby his freakishness made its self known. Like the time he had been found with one of Dudley's baby bottles floating towards his cupboard under the stairs. Or when his full diapers were found outside his locked cupboard. Most things on the list were quite clear in his mind. It was those memories that convinced him the rest were likely true.

Harry believed he was connected to the Freakishness some how. He hoped that maybe his deceased parents were finding ways to help him from beyond their graves. Harry began to see a pattern to these Freak moments. They had seemed random till now. The moments had occurred when he had felt completely alone, or betrayed by those he dared to hope would protect him. Like the time he had flinched in fear and pain to his first grade teacher as she touched his shoulder. She had him stay after class and told him he could tell her if he had been beaten or mistreated. That she would help him. So he told her, and some how it just made things much worse. He never learned why she never kept her word. He was use to grownups not explaining them selves to him. Still it hurt even more than the treatment he was accustom to. Especially when his teacher seemed to stop noticing he even existed any more. He remembered staring at the back of her long blond hair while she wrote on the chalkboard. Her hair slowly began to change to a deep blue. He now remembered that he never even felt surprised by the change. Even when the rest of his class mates gasped or began to cry.

Harry played the Freakishness scenes over and over. He was determined to make contact with the source or sources that so clearly were willing to defy what so many called normal. Even his science studies seemed a joke when this source moved on his behalf. After much soul or guardian searching Harry decided simply to say thank you, It was then that he felt it. It was a stirring that went beyond emotions or stomach aches. What ever It was he felt it was responding "Your welcome Harry". He froze. Had he just managed to make the contact he was hoping for or did he finally snap? Harry decided to keep this conversation going even if it may be just a mental break down. Using just his thoughts, Harry asked the source if it would be his friend? Maybe even help him do more than just survive his hateful relatives. The next response was even clearer "I would like that very much".

Harry was over whelmed by the sudden change to his world. He found a friend that Dudley could not chase away. His new friend already had a history of being there for him when he truly needed help. Well most of the critical times at least. They talked for some time before Harry opened his eyes. Harry was seeing stars. How long had he been up here? He needed to go back to the Dursleys. That thought brought back the fear and depression he was so familiar with. "Do you trust me Harry?" Harry began to relax again as his emotions morphed into confidence and a bit of mischievousness. Of course the seldom seen smile and chuckle made an appearance also.

~ O ~

Harry saw his relatives garden go from blurry to crystal clear. The feel of the hard smooth surface of the school roof was replaced by the soft yielding grass. The ride provided by his friend/guardian was the boost Harry did not realize he needed to finally convince himself that he truly had not lost his mind. What ever contact he hoped he had made on the roof of his school was just solidly confirmed. He looked down and smiled as he saw his new toy in his hand. The Frisbee he had found on the roof. Harry looked up at the back of the house trying to reclaim his confidence. He felt as though a warm water balloon had burst over his head and it quickly covered him completely. He looked down and was startled to only see his new toy where his hand should have been. From with in he heard "Better?" Brilliant! Thank you! The reply felt more like a big smile or a chuckle.

When Harry reached the back door it was locked. Not a surprise, his relatives had locked him out many times over the years. At least the weather was not yet uncomfortable. Before he removed his still invisible hand from the door he heard the lock click open. With silent foot steps he walked down the hall towards the living room. Harry could here Dudley laughing with his parents about something happening on the T.V. The smell of pizza also met him half way down the hall.

The invisible Harry stood in the living room taking in this happy family. He knew that since he was not here earlier to prepare their meal. That his absents probably inspired this bit of celebration. Three pizza delivery boxes divvied up between them sat near each of them for convenience. T.V. Night with Harry locked out, and some hope he does not show back up by morning. With that last thought Harry felt a slight electrical charge near the back of his neck. With a warm humorous tone from Harry's friend that only Harry could hear. Harry heard "Care for some pizza?" The mischievous smile that no one in this room could see shook his head rather agreeably. His aunt Petunia was the first to notice the floating pizza slice being consumed by air its self. Her gasp brought the attention of the others. Her shock was quickly replaced with anger. She had always identified freakishness with her nephew. Plus the rapidly disappearing pizza slice matched her nephews mouth height. Her screech of how dare you was what triggered Harry's uncle to rise from his chair with matching anger. As Harry's uncle turned to him in an all to familiar rage. The temporarily forgotten electrical charge behind Harry's neck seemed to release a pulse. Harry watched as the electrical discharge launched his uncle across the room and into the defenseless soon to be worthless T.V.

Harry observes the chaos as he watches his crying aunt fuss over his barely conscience moaning uncle. His cousin had back peddled himself into the distant corner of the living room. Mischief managed. Harry picked up his aunts pizza box and headed for his cupboard under the stairs. With his hand on the door knob Harry paused. Then asked his friend if just maybe he could have a normal bed room for once? A surge of a different manner passed through the arm and hand still holding the door knob of his assigned space under the stairs.

~ O ~

Harry stepped into the bedroom of his dreams. An actual twin size bed was centered against the far wall. The room was an average size for a bedroom, but to Harry it was huge. The walls were painted a light blue. The room was evenly lit by the soft glow of the entire ceiling. He had never seen lighting like this, and he was pretty sure it would fail the Dursley standards. Especially if it tapped into the electric bill. His 40 watt bulb was a massive drain he never stopped hearing about. Harry's attention was drawn to the right corner of the room. A chair and a triangular desk filled the space. Next to it was an inserted floor to ceiling book shelf. It was about four feet wide, and already held several books. He turned to the left side of the room and noticed a dresser that matched the rest of the furniture in the room. To the right of his dresser was another door he instinctively knew was his private bath. The door reminded him he had not yet closed his cupboard door. From the shock of viewing his new gift from his friend/guardian; he had tuned out the ruckus still coming from the living room. It all of a sudden caught up to him as he now looked out the door. He quickly shut the now clean and more solid door. It was now designed with a very impressive inside lock. Harry slid the dead bolt into place. He immediately noticed the absolute silence. When he had been locked in his cupboard before he could hear his relatives as they had once watched the now expired T.V. The quiet was a gift he never thought to hope for. He stared back at the lock and another unexpected realization came to him. He finally had privacy. No more rude or painful intrusions when his relatives wanted their servant. He closed his eyes as he turned and leaned back against the door. Harry spoke to the room knowing that only his friend could now here him. Seems all I have said since the roof is thank you non stop. You know that I am afraid none of this is real. Still it is a wonderful dream. "I understand"..."You need time to adjust, but this is not a dream."

Harry sat his Frisbee and pizza box on the desk. He looked at his book shelf. He was curious to see what his friend thought would be helpful or interesting. There was a set of encyclopedias, some note books, and even his current text books, not surprisingly now undamaged. There were a very nice variety of reference books. They matched what he had seen in the school library. A few of the books seemed to be fiction for light reading. At least until he saw his name in one of the titles. Soon he found others that were about him or seemed to referred to him. Could he just happen to have the same name? His scar shaped like a lighting bolt was the only thing that seemed consistent. Other than he and the Harry Potter in these books both lost their parents. Harry's by a car crash and the one in the books had been killed by an evil wizard. Wizards are fairy tails. If this Harry is me. Then I would be... His mind locked up. "Breath Harry" Harry took a deep breath. So am I this Harry Potter? Harry waited growing more uncomfortable by the obvious pause of his new friend. Then finally he heard "These books are lacking in many ways." "But yes they are referring to you." Harry needed to put this together. I'm a wizard? "Yes" My parents were killed by a wizard? "Yes" This was definitely freak zone even for Harry. I killed this wizard when I was just a baby? "Now begins the lacking." Dread was now asking his next question. Is he dead? "He has anchored his soul to objects that may give him opportunities to return." "He is driven by fear of death, and to have power over all, even death its self." Do other witches and wizards know he is still out there waiting for an opportunity to return? "Most believe he is truly gone." "That you are their savior for having vanquished him." How did I manage to stop him from killing me? "You didn't." "Your mother was an extraordinary witch" "She was warned about this wizard that was determined to kill her son" "She called upon me." "Declaring me your guarding." Harry was experiencing a strange mix of joy and fear. So who are you then? An angel? God?... the Devil? "All of the above in some ways." "I am loosely referred to simply as Magic."

Harry's list of questions were growing instead of shrinking. He did not know what to ask next. Then it was there, with barely controlled hurt/anger. If she made you my guarding. Why did I not here from you sooner? Why did you let them treat me... "Harry your mother only intended to protect you from an insane wizard." "She did not seek me to raise you." "Your parents made arrangements with others if they were..." They wanted aunt petunia and uncle Vernon to raise me? "No" "They were not on your parents list as suitable candidates." "I did say your mother was an extraordinary witch." "She knew her bitter sister would not give you the love of a nurturing mother." So why am I here? "Even great plans can fail." "Your godparents were either wrongfully imprisoned, or needed placed in a long term ward for the insane." So it was be placed here, or an orphanage? "There were other options." "A high ranking wizard decided a blood relative would serve you best." I think the orphanage would have been better. At least there I would have had a chance to be adopted by people who wanted to raise me. "Yes but the fear was, would they have been followers of the insane wizard that wanted you killed." Harry was not sure he wanted to talk about this topic any longer. It seemed to lead him back to what he has always known. His life sucked!

~ 0~

After a restless night dodging or hiding from wizards that kept sending bolts of light at him. Harry woke up in a clean comfortable bed. Had he left one bad dream for a more pleasant one? Soon his mind set his latest view of reality into place. "Good morning Harry." Good morning... Do you have a name or some title I should call you by? "Not ever really needed one" "Not that it ever stopped others from giving me a few." So if you chose your own, what would it be? "I have grown fond of the name Magic" "Still few have spoken to me as a personality when they used the term." "They seldom say thank you to me as you have done." "Often they say thank Merlin, as if he had been their current source of comfort." "I suppose they may some day say thank Harry." Harry missed the joke. "I understand to most witches and wizards it would be as strange as talking to water or air." "I am more of a natural resource to most of them." Good morning Magic. Harry felt his friend/guardian respond warmly "Good morning Harry" "What are your plans for today?" What ever my relatives give me after I make breakfast for them. "Harry shared chores are important for a family, but I know your relatives consider you more of a servant than a family member." "As I told you before, your mother did not intend for me to raise you." "If you would permit me I would be honored to consider you my child." Harry was stunned. You mean that? "I would not have asked other wise." "So?" Yes! Yes please! I would like that very much. The pulse from within Harry made him shut his eyes. As his bedroom flashed with a golden light. "Sorry about the theatrics Harry, but it is my own expression of love and adoption" Tears of Harry's over whelming sense of gratefulness ran down his smiling face.

"Now Harry, what plans would you like to make for yourself today?"

Yes Harry loves Magic and Magic loves Harry