A/N: Hey, All. Here's the next chapter of Magilus. I've been strangely inspired lately, so I hope you enjoy. This chapter is sort of a filler chapter, but it's important to get more of Harry's point of view. Eventually, I'll start moving into how Harry's magic works, how his friends react, how they are going to block the Dark Lord from Harry's thoughts, and how they are going to keep his power hidden. All sorts of things to come! Thanks to those who have been sticking with me!

Enjoy and Happy Reading,

Onyx Feloric


Harry sat down heavily in the chair. His hands were cold, but he was hesitant to use the heat to vanish the slight tingling he felt. It had been a spontaneous action, but he didn't regret it. Taking Professor Snape's hand had been impulsive, but he felt so much more confident. Despite the acrid tone the man could have used, the professor had been understanding, giving him the information he needed and answering his hesitant questions. The handshake between them was so many things.

Harry had done him wrong in the past, hate stemming from the wrong place. A few days ago, Harry would have easily claimed it all on the part of the Potions Master, but now he saw that he had not helped anything. The man had deserved some measure of respect, despite the strength of their hate. Now things were different and they had to be. The situation needed equality between them.

Harry had no illusions that the man would drag his anger to the surface, but perhaps it wouldn't take as long to diminish it. The young wizard looked around the room. Chairs were toppled over, glass was on the floor, and the bed was in complete disarray. It wasn't demolished, but Harry knew the effects his emotions could have on his surroundings. Dumbledore's office still had scorch marks on some of the walls and a few of the magical artifacts had been completely destroyed. Without Snape, he knew his emotions would take control, especially with his almost nightly sights from the Inner Circle.

He took a deep breath, the gravity of what he was and what he had to face trying to sneak up on him. Harry blinked, fighting back the unwanted tears. It took a few moments, but he was able to bury the panic in the back of his mind. A fleeting sensation touched his cheek; like a feather against his skin. He looked up from where he had bowed his head in thought.

The white lights were back. Harry stared as they left his cheek, going down to flutter around his fingers. They were beautiful. It was hard to describe what brought the smile to his face. They were simply ribbons of pale light that left a slight warming sensation when they touched his skin. There was nothing that seemed to be outside the normal. Magic made itself known in far more elaborate ways than simple ribbons.

Unlike many of his classmates, children who had known magic their entire lives, he was utterly fascinated by the sight. The Dursley's had eliminated anything that involved the very word 'magic'. Petunia threw out books given to Dudley that even hinted at the supernatural. As a child, Harry had whole-heartedly and hopefully believed that fairy tales were real; that magic had some place in the world. That magic would somehow take him away from his life on Privet Drive. Before the first owl had arrived, Harry had almost stopped believing.

Watching the lights around his hands, Harry couldn't help but laugh at the thought of never believing in magic. Magic had saved him like he'd always dreamed. Although his magic had changed, his power having seemingly grown overnight, he knew it wouldn't hurt him. He had nothing to fear from it. It had always been there for him, even when he hadn't known what he was. It was only a matter of learning to work with his power.

Harry sighed. That was going to be the problem. Even when silence was the order of the day at the Dursley's, inside, his emotions were turmoil. He'd gotten better at keeping them hidden, but behind his eyes, it could be chaos. Ever since fifth year, it had gotten harder to control the range of his emotions. Snape claimed that his status as a Magilus was the reason why his emotions were so chaotic. Until they came up with a way to help settle his mind, his magic would be out in full force. He dreaded to think his magic's reaction when his nightmares visited.

Harry stood up, the chair vanishing beneath him as he broke the dark train of thought. He raised a hand, only hesitating slightly. Professor Snape knew he had wandless magic at his disposal. There was no reason to hide it now. He exerted his will, holding his hand out toward the bed.

It was as easy as breathing.

The sheets picked themselves up off the floor. Cracks that had appeared down the four posters, sealed and stabilized the canopy. In only a matter of moments, it was as if nothing had ever disturbed it. Harry's mouth was hanging open, his hand still raised. It had never been so easy before. He lowered his hand, looking at the digits with new eyes.

What exactly was he capable of now?


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