A/N: Dear Lord, has it really been that long? Sorry for the long wait, but there's thing soul sucking vortex of doom called 'college' that insists on occupying my time. This chapter may be a little short…I'm still working out the details.

And yes, I did notice the randomness of some of Harry and Hua-Ling's moments, and so far I like it.

Magic Me Away

Chapter 2: Answers

"Aren't you uncomfortable?" Harry asked, wondering how Hua-Ling could possibly be even remotely comfortable with her head and front claws resting beside his bed while the rest of her body was curled around the house. The way she was now, she was practically like the Hogwarts' ghosts; it didn't bother her that there were solid objects through her body.

She shook her large head and yawned, "No." She'd slept in weirder positions before, so she had gotten used to it. "Go to sleep, Harry." She couldn't call him young Harry anymore, not after he asked her so politely not to.

An idea struck Harry as he leaned over the side of his bed to talk to Hua-Ling. "Um…if I can see you now, and I'm not dead, then what does that make me?"

"Oh, you're just a quarter dead."

Harry was off his bed and on his feet in barely in a second. "Just a quarter dead?! What does that even mean?!" He demanded of her.

"It means what it means," Hua-Ling replied as she slithered more of herself into the small room. "You were barely dead when you first heard my voice because of the Death Magic inside of you In order for you to enter the spirit realm temporarily, I had to make you half dead by pulling out your spirit. And since you pointed out that you couldn't see me when I returned your spirit to your body, I breathed mild purifying flames onto you, thus making you a quarter dead. Understand?"

He collapsed back onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut before he opened them to glare at the ceiling. What was with death and constantly following him? "So let me get this straight. I was already somewhat dead when we met, but now I'm even more dead?" He struggled not to let his voice into a hysterical shriek because 1) it would wake up his family; and 2) guys did not shriek hysterically like a girl. It was not manly.

"Yep!" She said in such a cheerful tone that had Harry groaning and rubbing his hands over his face. He heard her yawn tiredly and bit back more of the questions he wanted to ask. "I blame Voldemort entirely," he muttered under his breath, knowing without being told that the 'Death Magic' within him came from the Killing Curse.

"What did Wa-wa-aawn-mart ever do to you?" Hua-Ling asked sleepily. She could have sworn the kid said he blamed Wal-Mart for everything. "With such low prices, how can you not smile?"

"What?!"

"Nothing," she chuckled and burrowed her head under the bed. "Goodnight Po."

Harry leaned on an elbow as he once again leaned over the side of the bed. "You're not calling me 'Po' Hua-Ling. Hua-Ling? Aw, come on! No one goes to sleep that fast!" But apparently she had since Harry didn't get a reply from her. Either that or she was ignoring him, and he had a feeling that it was the latter. "Fine," he gave up and pulled the covers over his head. "Night then."

"So I'm…dead?"

"For the love of…just drop it, Po!"

Harry was putting away the groceries he had just brought home. It was Thursday, so the Dursley's were out doing it is whatever they did. He put down the milk he was about to put in the fridge. "Why do you call me Po?"

Hua-Ling was perched on the table, expression annoyed with his questions. "You won't let me call you 'Young Harry' so I came up with a different name. Harry Potter sounds too foreign, so…Po. It fits."

"But…But Po makes me sound a like a…fat panda!"

Her whiskers twitched, "You know what pandas are?"

He didn't reply. Hell, of course he knew what pandas were! He'd been to the library as child, so why wouldn't he? But for now, he was just frustrated. He didn't understand this being partially dead business. He didn't even understand what Hua-Ling meant by the Spiritual Plane. Weren't ghosts on the Spiritual Plane? They were dead weren't they? But wouldn't that make everyone else a little dead too?

"Something on your mind, Po? Or are you really going to put the eggs in the cabinet?" She chuckled as he blinked rapidly and dropped the egg carton. Her tail whipped through the living room into the kitchen, just in time to catch the eggs; this only further confused the poor boy because he was sure that ghosts couldn't become tangible enough to do something like keeping a carton of eggs from smashing onto the floor.

Slamming down a box of biscuits onto the counter, Harry rounded on Hua-Ling, exasperated beyond belief. "That's it. I can't take it anymore until I know. What are you?" Their first meeting didn't explain much other than the fact that Chinese styled dragons existed.

She sighed in defeat. Damn the boy for not accepting it all at face-value. Hua-Ling loathed explaining things, and you'd think that after all this time she'd get over it, but not her. "Since you seem to be easily distracted by me when I'm like this," her serpentine body twitched, "I'll make it easier on you." It was as if her body shattered and fell apart in a fall of translucent autumn leaves. What was left behind was an ethereal woman with cerulean eyes and a fall of what couldn't possibly be orange-brown hair. From where she sat by the table, her hair fell in a wild waves down to the floor. Her attire was simple, and yet so utterly distracting that Harry almost preferred her dragon form versus this one. All she wore was a silk black robe that reached the floor. Apparently, modesty didn't mean that much to her because Harry was guessing she was most likely naked… No! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts!

"So you are human? Ow! Hey!" She stood to smack the back of his head. "What was that for? I was just asking."

"You can't even wait for me to explain? Sheesh. But yes, I was human. Death tends to change such things, so I'm still alive but in another form."

"But if you're not dead, then why is your dragon form transparent like a ghost's and yet the form I see you in now isn't?" It was very confusing, but maybe… "Wait, is it because the dragon is in the Spiritual Plane but the way you are now is in the um…human world?" He could tell by the glint in her ocean eyes that he was right or at least close to the truth.

"Very good, Po." The tips of her fingers drummed out a steady, relaxed rhythm upon the tabletop. "You're right, of course. I'm very much alive in this world. Of course, other…people assume that just because I exist in the Spiritual Realm, must mean I'm dead."

"So…you've just been re-incarcerated?" His brows furrowed at her laugh. "What?"

"Reincarnated, my dear Po. But incarcerated is also quite accurate. Although my incarceration is more lenient than most," she added as an afterthought.

"But how come I can see you? Does that mean I can see other of your…errr…kind too?" He hoped not. Harry had enough problems what with school and Voldemort; he didn't need to be seeing ghost dragons on the off-chance. Way too disturbing for him.

"You can see me because I altered your soul a bit. I sensed plenty of Death Magic in you, but it was restrained by quite a number of runes. Why anyone would use Soul Magic on a child like you is baffling." The very discovery had sickened her to the core. "But no, you won't be able to see others. My fire changed your mortal make-up. Others of my kind can see you, but you can't see them. Your spiritual sight is restricted to only me unless I take you directly to the Spirit Realm." Or if he interacts directly with another spirit other than her.

"I…I think understand, but what do you mean my Death Magic was restrained? Was it because of the Killing Curse?" His gut began to twist and churn with sudden dread.

"Heavens no. by all means, it should have let loose the flood gates and unleashed your Death Magic to its fullest potential. Every wizard of witch is born with a natural seal on their Death Magic. Most never find out about it, and only a handful barely understand it. Your seal, however, was strengthened at a very young age…most likely after a near-death experience I believe." Hua-Ling was beyond upset, she was furious and rightly so. This child's magic had been tampered with, thus holding it back from fully developing. All magic was sacred, whether it was from Western or Eastern descent, magic was magic. To halt the very flow of it was blasphemous.

Harry wanted to break something. His heart and mind screamed that Voldemort was at fault, but deep within his soul, a small steadily growing kernel of awareness was whispering, placing all the blame on Dumbledore. Voldemort wouldn't have sealed his Death Magic; he was unable to at the time. And the only other wizard strong enough at that moment in time had to be the Headmaster. Harry had never felt more betrayed, not since Ron temporarily turned his back on him because of the Triwizard Tournament.

So lost in his thoughts was he that it took him a moment to notice the soothing pressure against his scalp. Turning, he found Hua-Ling on her feet and gently massaging his head. He quickly averted his gaze to avoid her eyes; those endless pools of blue and green saw far too much and it made him uncomfortable. "Th-Thanks for answering my questions," he mumbled as he leaned into her touch. "How…oh, bloody hell your hands are magic," he almost groaned from pleasure. Those delicate yet strong hands were doing wonders for the knots in his upper back. "Exactly how old are you?"

"It's not polite to ask a lady's age, but I'm somewhere around three thousand years old, give or take a couple centuries."

Harry eyes widened impossibly and he felt his jaw drop to his feet. "But that's--"

"Boy!"

The blissful pressure vanished and Hua-Ling faded from sight, leaving Harry lonely and just a little bit disappointed. Rolling his shoulders, he straightened his back and held his head up high, "Coming, Uncle!"

A/N: The ideas are still flowing in my mind so updating is kind of…blah.

Review please. And special thanks to Thousand Possibilities who's ideas have kicked my imagination into overdrive.