Chapter 9- The Aeromancer takes wing
A few months later, an eight year old Harry was lazing around outside with Tim and a couple of the other students talking about Mrs. Figg.
"So she wants to learn how to become a mage?" Tim asked.
"Yeah, but she insisted on using the word 'witch', which is kind of weird. I looked at her soul, and it seemed to be biased towards a different kind of mana channelling, based around using a focus from what I can work out, although she doesn't seem to be able to use it like that." Harry frowned. "I don't think it'll be as easy for her as it was for you guys."
The conversation soon dwindled leaving silence and the students moved off, leaving Harry on his own on the leaf covered roof of the paranormal studies building.
He began to project his mana into the air in his boredom, slowly spinning it in circles until it was spinning so fast that it was sucking in leaves.
It was then he realised what he was doing.
"Cool! I'm going to call it Hurricane Harry!"
The working of the mind of an eight year old child, no matter how intelligent, is an ugly thing.
He began moving the small whirlwind methodically over the roof of the paranormal studies building, gathering all the leaves, moving the swirling mass over to the side of the building, and releasing it, sending a torrent of red, brown, and gold flying onto the campus square.
This action resulted in a burst of foul language that could be heard from the roof.
"Never heard that one before." Harry noted, jotting one particularly disgusting curse into an extensive library of expletive language that spanned over more than ten foreign languages, plus fictional ones from Klingon, Romulan, Elvish, and Orcish. (Rupert was attempting to get ideas off of J.R. Tolkien for spells.)
Seconds later, he was experimenting with condensing air, throwing it forwards, drawing it in, and heating it.
This didn't end when the chancellor opened the door, but it did give him a good excuse to experiment with using air as a cushion as he dived out of sight.
He waited for a few minutes, before realising that the fat man wasn't leaving.
This made it time for more experimentation, Potter style.
He jumped off the side of the building, and landed on a heavily condensed 'block' of air. At this, he began lowering himself slowly to the nearest open window, before leaping in, and embraced fire around his whole body, dulling his impact with the floor.
Extinguishing the fire, he realised that half of the student gang was staring at him.
"I worked out some new magic." He informed them. "You may now bow and worship me."
The room laughed and then got him to continue his magical experimentation, this time in a more controlled manner.
The experimentation soon had Harry flying, distorting light, and, to the dismay of the gang, scattering every piece of paper in the room.
Harry soon had the need to fall asleep in exhaustion.
In the typical style of the students, they gathered around over him, discussing what to do.
"Splash him."
"Get him food?"
The corpse imitation moaned in his sleep. "Ice cream…"
The decision was unanimous and in perfect harmony from all present.
"Definitely food."
Upon his first few seconds of entering the canteen, Harry was awake. A couple laughed at this, until he glared at them. "Silence, I must concentrate upon absorbing all of the sugar in the air into my body." Unfortunately for Harry, this made the laughter both contagious and hysterical.
He was soon presented with Ice cream and chocolate, by the only one not on the floor gasping for air from their over-zealous need to laugh.
He swore at them and consumed his food.