Two hours later, Harry still had no idea why he could do what he could do, but he could do a lot more of it now.
After the librarian had left, Harry had scoured the empty corner for any hint of books or other information, but in the end, he had come to the conclusion that the librarian really didn't know what the other people who had come before him were doing there.
However, Harry was still hopeful, because now he had a small idea in the back of his mind. If there were other people coming who were just like him, that must mean that there was a whole community of people just like him! Maybe, just maybe, there was another world, full of what Harry had decided must be magic! And maybe, just maybe, Harry could find a place in that world where he belonged.
So, heart beating, Harry had gotten to work. First, he made sure he could still light up his hand (and turn it off again, of course.) After trying fruitlessly for about seven minutes, Harry wondered if maybe last night he had only been dreaming. When the intense sadness filled him like nothing before ever had, he got scared that he would never find a place to belong. As soon as the first tear fell, with Harry yearning and wishing for it to be true, but completely sure that it wasn't, his hand lit up in a yellow glow.
Harry was shocked, but over the moon with happiness. It was true! Overjoyed, Harry wondered what had happened. He remembered the night before, when he had figured out that the magic happened to help him out whenever he was feeling intense negative emotion.
But what if, Harry thought, it didn't need to be negative? What if Harry could control the magic with positive emotion too?
Hope filled Harry, which he clung to so he could use it. Staring at his hand, Harry wondered what else he could do if he tried.
He could already light up his hand, to help with the dark in the cupboard, but what else could he use to help him out while the Dursleys tortured him?
Harry thought back to his daydream about being able to levitate Dudley. Could it be possible for him to do that?
Heart beating with hope, as well as a sense of lightness and humour from the image of Dudley being thrown up the stairs by invisible power, Harry thought he could do it. He just needed something to practice on.
Only, all that he had with him here was himself, the chair he was on, and... the table. Harry suddenly felt extremely powerful at the thought of lifting the table with his mind.
He decided that now, now that he had three incredibly powerful positive emotions running through him, was the perfect time to try. Harry took his arms off the table and stared at it, willing, wishing, hoping for it to work.
Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins. Harry felt like he was about to explode. His head was throbbing, his heart was pounding, and he could hear the blood in his ears and feel its heat as it ran through his body. He was trembling; even hurting, still hoping and wishing and willing and praying and hoping when suddenly - it lifted.
Harry almost lost his focus out of shock when he saw the table begin to rise off of the ground, but he wanted to see how far he could go.
Bringing back all of the emotions, and now there were thousands of them at the realization of actually being able to lift the table. With his mind!
As harry watched, and focused, and sent his emotions from his brain into the table, the table rose, and rose, and rose, and rose. Soon it was higher than Harry, and the longer he let it rise, the easier it became to float it.
Harry's heart stopped pounding quite so hard, and his head stopped hurting, and he wasn't trembling or feeling any strong emotion running through him.
He was simply doing it. It was as though the table and him became one, like the table was an extra hand on an invisible arm of his. He could instantly will the table up, down, sideways, make it loop-de-loop, absolutely anything at all.
Harry felt immensely powerful, and since he already had such good control of the table, he decided to try doing two things at once.
No longer needing the rush of emotions to control his power, Harry focused on the legs of the table. As he focused, he imagined them moving, wriggling and turning, as though they belonged to a spider.
He wriggled his own fingers as an example to the table, as if it could see what he wanted it to do. Harry grinned at the idea of a table with eyes that would do what he did.
But Harry's grin was wiped off of his face when, as soon as he started wriggling his fingers, the table copied him with its legs.
Harry almost dropped the table.
As long as he focused, and imagined, he could control whatever he wanted to, probably! Harry set down the table, as he was beginning to feel tired, and tested out his latest theory.
Before, it had taken him almost ten minutes to light up his hand. Would it still, and would he still need such emotion, or would he be able to do it now as easily as he had been able to control the table?
Harry looked down at his hand, and realized that he had stood up without noticing. He must have used more concentration than he had thought to make the table's legs move.
He sat back down and put his hand on the table. He looked at it, and focused hard on his hand, blocking out everything else in his surroundings. Then, when he felt sufficiently focused, he imagined his hand lighting up.
With his other hand, he also half-subconsciously flicked a few fingers, the same motions one would make while flicking on a light switch.
As he made these motions, his hand lit up. Harry grinned from ear to ear. He could do it! He could control things with his mind just by focusing! How many seven-year-olds could do that!
Satisfied, and surprisingly tired suddenly, Harry decided to call it a day. He walked out back into the main section section of the library and looked at the time. 1:00! He had been here for two hours?
Surprised, but still pleased and a little bit tired, Harry said goodbye to the librarian and walked out, ready to return home and face his tormentors with a new sense of confidence and power.
