Because Harry had been asked by Professor McGonagall to choose another elective in place of Divination, Harry chose Muggle Studies, deciding to see how Wizards viewed the Muggle world. His fascination soon turned to sadness, though, as he learned that Wizards generally thought of themselves superior to Muggles, despite the advances that Muggles had made in the last century. After all, a wizard could repair something with the flick of a wand, but a Muggle would take far longer. Harry admitted to himself that witches and wizards were superior in that way, but in general, they certainly didn't innovate much. They still insisted on using quills when pens would work well, and probably would be more comfortable to write with, too. As Harry thought about that, he found himself delighted to be blind and brailing on a Brailler, rather than attempting to scratch letters on Parchment with a Quill dipped in ink.
Six o'clock on Sunday came, and Rose met him in the room as usual. While she was still sad, she'd agreed to continue working with Harry, which he was glad about. She wanted to restrict his lessons to himself and his magic, though, rather than doing anything more outside the school. Since she'd told him that before, Harry didn't mind that, and on top of his classes at school, he had lessons with Rose, which were also serving to refine his own sensing of magic, as he was forced to practice it more than before. Magic, usually, would feel complex pieces of magic, and while Harry hadn't applied using his mind in all areas of magic, he realized what a mistake that had been when Rose told him to use his own skills at feeling magic to figure something out. It was difficult with very complex pieces of magic, but the more Harry was exposed to, the more he learned, and better he became at picking apart what types of magic were what.
As Harry continued going through the weeks, he realized that not only was his skill at magic increasing, but the power of his flame of magic was growing quicker than before as well, becoming hotter, stronger, and more soothing within his chest, and was slowly beginning to move throughout the rest of his body, and remain there consistently rather than be there only briefly. He found himself eating a lot more, and from what he heard from Magic, she was also doing the same. He didn't know if this was due to his physical maturity, the effects of Athis combining with his magic, or both. Whatever the case, he found himself growing noticeably taller according to what Magic told him, and sometimes, he'd feel the feeling of the combine phoenix magic with his own flame of magic as it would flash through limbs, joints, or within him. Since he still had perfect control over his magic, and the only thing that seemed to be changing was his magic growing gentler and more soothing, he didn't speak to any of the professors about it. He did talk to Rose, though, who was fascinated by what was happening to him, and had felt his magic with her own when he'd given her permission.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was the favorite class of many, including Harry. The Slytherins were the only ones who seemed to have anything bad to say about Professor Lupin, though Harry knew that ones state of dress had nothing at all to do with how well they taught a lesson. Professor Lupin's style of teaching was instructive, and quite practical. Magic helped Harry when he needed it, and as the weeks passed, Harry noticed that she was growing slightly taller than she had been before, in terms of their differences in height.
Potions classes continued to be a source of instruction, Professor Lara teaching them far more than Professor Snape had. The Slytherins only complained about how they were treated like Gryffindors now, but in terms of how she taught and what her state of dress was, they said nothing. Harry assumed from this, that she looked nicer than Professor Lupin did, and more like the other professors.
In Care of Magical Creatures, they were continuing to learn about Hippogriffs, Hagrid teaching them what was best to feed them, how best to take care of them, etc. Malfoy didn't try and insult them again, and Harry guessed that his brush with what could have easily harmed him, had given him a fear of the Hippogriffs. Malfoy was far from afraid of Harry, though, despite his magical power, and had begun to try and get to him by bullying his friends. While Harry could have easily defended them, he let them defend themselves unless they asked for his help, which they didn't most of the time. As a result of Malfoy's bullying, Slytherin's points had dropped quite a bit, as Ron, Hermione, Daphne, and Tracey all reported them for what they were doing. Harry suspected their reports was Malfoy's reason for whining and complaining about how he wished he'd not ever returned to Hogwarts, and his talk about how his father was threatening the professors that if they didn't stop giving Malfoy detention, he'd be transferred to another school. There seemed to be an obvious lack of communication between Malfoy, his father, and the other professors, or perhaps Malfoy's father simply liked him so much that he chose not to listen to any side of the story but his son's. Harry could have cared less, and Ron was hoping Malfoy would keep attacking them so he'd be expelled. Daphne was her usual calm self about the entire thing, and Hermione was rather angry that Malfoy's father wasn't looking at both sides of the story. Tracey was cool in front of the Slytherins, but when she talked with the rest of them, she simply wanted the bullying to stop, as she didn't much like being hurt. None of them did, but Ron said he was willing to brave the pain if it got rid of Malfoy.
Quidditch training was continuing to go well for Harry, who was able to play quite well despite being blind. After trying out on the field, Magic always accompanied him, and while he practiced, she sat in the empty stadium in what she stated was the best position to view him. Harry felt her watching him intently, and while she occasionally glanced at the others, she mainly kept her gaze focused on him.
Perhaps due to his being blind, Harry found himself able to play better than the rest, even through the darker, colder weather that was settling over Hogwarts and its grounds. Wood was glad that, even in such conditions, Harry's flying was superb. Harry also seemed less effected by the cold than the rest of the team, and while he was aware of the temperature of the weather, he could also feel his own magic warming him from within. It was a rather pleasant feeling that Harry enjoyed, which was only one of the reasons he looked forward to training on the field. The thrill of flying, catching the Snitch, swerving through the other players and flying so close to the ground he thought he might crash, was intoxicating. Since he loved it, Magic never stopped him, and even calmly stated a few ways in which he might improve his flying on the field.
At the end of one of his training sessions, Harry went inside to find that the first Hogsmeade weekend would be taking place on Halloween. He found himself looking forward to his time with Daphne more than the shopping, though. Just spending time with her as they ate, did school work, or just talked, was quite nice, so he thought he'd enjoy anything they'd be doing together, even if she was just looking at things. Tracey, having caught a dreamy look on Harry's face when they spoke once, had slyly sang that he liked Daphne. Unperturbed, Harry told her calmly that he liked her, too, and Magic had placidly noted Tracey was embarrassed. She didn't talk to him about that afterward, but Harry didn't mind, and the awkwardness Tracey seemed to display around him left within a few days.
When Harry approached Transfiguration class on the sixteenth of October, he heard the sound of someone crying in the line of students outside the transfiguration class. From what Hermione discovered, Binky, Lavender Brown's rabbit, had been killed by a fox. Hermione apologized to her, and Lavender went on to make a claim that the Divination professor had been correct about a prediction that the thing she dreaded most would happen on the sixteenth of October, as that's what day it was. Though Harry was sorry for Lavender and could identify with her feeling of loss, he didn't agree with the melodrama about the Divination professor being correct about her predictions. Harry kept that to himself, though, unlike Hermione, who tried to get them to look at it logically. From his own experiences with grief, he knew that was the wrong thing to do.
As they entered class, Harry caught up to Hermione with Magic's help and took her arm, saying quietly, "Hermione, you sounded pretty insensitive."
"No, I'm not." Hermione replied. "I just don't understand why she's making such a big deal about it, is all."
"Because, Hermione, she cared a great deal for her pet." Harry said. "It's not hard to think that someone might dread something they cared a great deal for, dying, especially if they're attached to whatever it is. Wouldn't you be sad if Crookshanks was killed by a wolf or something?"
"I suppose I would." Hermione replied. "But I wouldn't talk about Professor Trelawney's prediction being right just because I received the news today."
"Maybe not." Harry said. "But I wouldn't announce that to everyone. It makes it sound like you don't care at all about what she's going through."
Harry didn't know if he'd given Hermione anything to think about or not, but when Professor McGonagall told the class to hand their Hogsmeade forms to her before the Hogsmeade weekend, Harry had Magic teleport the form from his trunk to his hand, giving it to her before he left, finding himself glad that he'd gotten a guardian other than the Dursley's before he'd received the form. He didn't think the Dursley's would have been too likely to sign it.
Harry woke Halloween morning to the sound of the others in his dormitory talking excitedly about Hogsmeade, and what they were planning to do there. As he got dressed for the day and pulled his curtains back from his for-poster bed, Ron said, "Hey, Harry! It's about time you got up!"
"Is that right, Ron? It's only seven in the morning, and it's Sunday." Harry said, smiling a bit. "Heard of sleeping in?"
"This is the first time that we'll be going to Hogsmeade, mate! You've got to be excited about that!" Ron said, and from his voice, he was grinning.
"I don't get too hyped up about it, Ron. Besides, I can't see, so you'll get more of a thrill than I would." Harry said.
"And what's it like for you?" Ron asked.
"Well, it's like walking through a bunch of streets with buildings, and not knowing their names or what they're all about until someone tells you." Harry said. "So, the only thing I'll get out of it is cool things to eat or drink."
"Oh, man, Harry, you're gunna love butterbeer." Ron said. "Stop by the Three Broomsticks while you're there and get some."
"Daphne and I already planned to do that." Harry said.
"Oh, going on a date are we?" Seamus asked happily. "Got a pretty young lass you like, Harry?"
"Daphne's my friend." Harry said.
"We thought you were all about Magic." Dean said. "The way we saw a bit of you two almost two months ago."
Harry blushed, but also thought of he and Magic living together, married. Since she wasn't a family member, and had grown up with him doing what he wanted, and still did as he wished, he was starting to find the prospect attractive, and finding Magic more attractive as well. It didn't feel quite so wrong to fantasize about that anymore, but he also thought about Tracey, with the way she laughed, would pat him on the shoulder or give him brief hugs, and how the hugs sent swooping sensations through his stomach. He thought also about Magic's hugs, and how they also felt nice in their own way. They were different from Tracey's hugs. Where hers gave him the odd swooping sensation, Magic's hugs felt like calm, comfort, something he could wrap himself up in forever and love. Where he didn't think he could talk to Tracey or Daphne or his other friends about certain things, he knew he could talk to Magic, both because she was always truthful with him, and because he knew she already knew all of his thoughts. He found Magic, Tracey and Daphne all attractive in their own way. Tracey always encouraged him to try and do new things, and Magic did as well in her own, calm way. Daphne was proud of him when he achieved something that made him happy, and while Tracey would be less restrained in her excitement with shouting and hugging, Daphne would quietly tell him she was glad he was happy, or hug him briefly and tell him she was proud of what he'd been able to do. Daphne was closer to Magic in her manner, and he liked that in a way that made him like the prospect of possibly marrying Daphne as he'd thought about marrying Magic. He wasn't sure what to think about the situation with the three of them, didn't quite know who he liked more. Magic, of course, he would always like the best, could always implicitly trust, but he couldn't do that with the other two. There was definitely more between he and Daphne than there was between he and Tracey, too, and he supposed that made him more attracted to Daphne than Tracey. After all, Tracey had started out being unkind, but even so, he still found her attractive.
"So you do love Magic, then." Dean said. "I knew it!"
"Yes, of course I love Magic. Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked. "She cares for me and is always there for me. Except last year, but that wasn't her fault."
"Well, she'll be with you all year this year." Ron said.
"Yep, and I'm going to celebrate that with her." Harry replied.
"How?" Ron asked. "I mean, she doesn't really feel anything."
"Just be with her, talk with her." Harry said. "And remember last year, and how glad I am that she's warm and alive and with me."
"That almost sounds romantic." Seamus said.
"Tell me you're not turning into a girl, mate." Ron said with mock horror in his voice.
"Oh, Ron!" Harry shrieked in a high voice. "Did you study for your transfiguration? Did you Ronny boy?"
Everyone in the dormitory laughed.
"I bet that's who you like, Ron. Hermione." Harry said.
"Well... Maybe just a bit, I mean... Well she does help me and stuff..." Ron was muttering.
"You do like her!" Dean shouted. "I knew it!"
"Well, I'm out of here, gentlemen, so see you all later!" Harry called as he headed for the door and hurried down to the common room.
Harry entered and could hear Daphne talking, and from the sound of her voice and where he could feel Magic, she was talking to her. Harry listened as he quietly made his way over to her.
"There's nothing at all you'll want there? Why not?" Daphne asked.
"I want what Harry wishes, and, more." Magic stated.
"You've said that, but what exactly is the more we're talking about?" Daphne asked.
"I don't know." Magic said. "Anticipating Harry's wishes is the path my thoughts most often take."
"Maybe you want to take care of him, do things for him." Daphne responded.
"I anticipate what Harry wishes based on previous actions and his thought processes, and do more than he wishes." Magic stated, standing.
"And you've done a bit too well at that." Harry said. "You've made me blush a lot with some of those things you say to me."
"You enjoy thinking about them, and haven't been seen blushing." Magic stated as she hugged him firmly. Harry leaned against her and sighed in pure contentment as he put his arms around her in return.
"So, Harry, you ready for the day?" Daphne asked.
"I am." Harry replied. "Ready to take me to some of these stores?"
"I look forward to it." Daphne said as Harry pulled back from Magic.
"And will you be with me, Magic?" Harry asked.
"You wish this, so I shall be with you." Magic stated.
"Good." Harry responded. "And just so you know, when you're anticipating my wishes, doing more as you say, you're thinking about what I'll want and carrying it out. I think that's what people who love each other do. I just wish I could do something that you'd want."
"I want what you want, and do as you wish." Magic said.
"And nothing more?" Harry asked.
"You know." Magic responded. Harry did know the answer to that question. Her world, all that she'd ever focused on, was him. He felt a warmth different from his magic fill him at the realization, and grinned a bit.
"Daphne, want to lead me to the Great Hall today?" Harry asked.
"Sure." Daphne replied.
She brought him to the Great Hall, and helped him get his breakfast. After he ate, Harry went to the entrance hall with everyone else, where Filch, the caretaker, was making sure any who shouldn't be going were remaining behind. Harry, Daphne and Magic were all cleared to leave, and Harry felt the feel of his magic warming him from within as they walked through the cold weather.
"Aren't you cold without a cloak on?" Daphne asked as she looked at him.
"No, I'm pretty warm, actually." Harry responded. "My magic's keeping me warm. It's like being wrapped up in the feeling of a phoenix combine with the feeling of my own flame of magic. It feels pretty nice. You should try it some time."
"Wish I could." Daphne said. "But I can't even feel my magic like you can. I don't think there's too many people that can do that."
"Probably not." Harry said. "Magic, you're pretty quiet. Going to say something?"
"Something." Magic stated. Daphne laughed, but Harry only grinned.
There was a certain thrill in leaving Hogwarts, Harry thought as he and Daphne walked through the gates, and on the unfamiliar path to Hogsmeade. He could hear the students ahead of them chatting excitedly, and those behind him also talking about what they were going to do. A few minutes later, he heard the chatting of people in the village, and the students seemed to all separate around them and go their different ways. He, Magic and Daphne stayed together in their little trio, though, and Daphne said, "So. Want to go to Honeydukes first?"
"Sure." Harry replied.
The two of them entered the shop, where Harry learned they were handing out free samples of some kind of Fudge. Harry found it delicious, and Daphne seemed to like it as well. Magic, as usual, simply analyzed its content, though she didn't speak aloud. Having brought money in preparation to purchase all sorts of things, Harry bought a variety of different sweets from Honeydukes for himself, Daphne, and Magic.
"I hope you like all those, Magic." Daphne said as they left, Magic carrying a couple bags of things that Harry had purchased for her.
"Harry's magic will grow stronger." Magic stated. "He likes that."
"Hey, this looks cool." Daphne said. "There's a book shop here."
Harry let her lead him inside, though compared to Honeydukes, he found it rather boring. Daphne looked at some of the books, and while she did so, Magic picked some up as well and flipped quickly through them. Harry felt her glancing at each page for a fraction of a second and storing all the data within the books, grinning and amused at how quickly she was able to remember things. To him, it sounded like someone turning the pages of a book just to see how well each one turned. Magic soon stopped that, though, and joined him, putting her hands on his shoulders from behind. He relaxed from the physical contact.
Harry didn't enjoy most of the places they went. The places he liked the most were the sweets shop, and the Three Broomsticks, where they went for lunch to drink butterbeer, which was one of the best drinks he'd had. While it seemed to warm him up from the inside, it was nothing compared to the feel of his magic performing the same task, and keeping him from feeling the least bit cold. Daphne had commented to him that his hands felt warm even in the cold weather, so he guessed that it wasn't just a feeling that he received, but he was actually kept warm by his magic. The thought made him feel like his magic really did care for and love him, and when he thought that, Magic, who was sitting next to Harry at the time, put her arm around him and kept it there until he and Daphne were ready to leave.
The Hogsmeade trip was about like Harry thought. Being with Daphne was more enjoyable than the shopping, as she would explain anything he liked, though shopping in general wasn't something he'd ever really enjoyed much. Harry was glad to return to Hogwarts, though missed the feeling of his magic warming him up from the inside. As they walked through the entrance hall, Daphne asked, "Harry, do you think you'll ever get married to anyone?"
"Maybe." Harry responded.
"I'm just curious." She responded. "You know, if that ever happens, you're probably going to have problems."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Well, to put it bluntly, no one will ever compare to Magic. You were thinking about something in the Three Broomsticks, and when she put her arm around you, you looked like you were very content, like she'd done exactly what you wanted at the time." Daphne said.
"She did." Harry replied. "Magic's my magic, and that's her way. She'll always be that way. What's wrong with that? Why would that cause problems?"
"I don't know if too many people will understand that." Daphne said. "When Magic put her arm around you, the way you leaned into the touch, the expression on your face, it looked like you were experiencing the best thing in the world and nothing was better than that. It looked like you were with your soul mate or something. Even I don't completely understand it."
"I really like Magic's physical touch, her hugs and even if we're just sitting close. And the way she does everything for me, it's... Nothing's better than that, but people like you are... It's up there with it in its own way." Harry said.
"You talk about her like you love her." Daphne observed. "I know, you do. But, the love I'm talking about is deeper than family, deeper than even marriage, deeper than anything I've seen. The way you do things for Harry, Magic, it's as if you want to do nothing else, that he's your entire world. And... You love what she does for you a lot, don't you, Harry?"
"Yeah, I do." Harry responded. "Not only is it really nice, but for most of my life, Magic gave me the only sign of love that I'd ever really received. Well, except maybe Sharen, but Magic was with me more than she was."
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked.
"When I was growing up at the Dursley's, I was given my own room, learned things, I went to school and wasn't starved. But, I wasn't ever really given anything fun to play with, or just went out with them to enjoy a meal, or time with them. The Dursley's never held me when I was sad or told me everything was all right after a nightmare. They just told me to, in their words, 'Go to the girl!' And that was it." Harry said.
"That's so sad." Daphne responded, grabbing his hand in hers and holding it firmly.
"I wanted it from them before, but... Let's just say that, I learned that Magic would be my only real source of comfort there." Harry said.
"Didn't you ever want more than Magic?" Daphne asked. "Even when you learned that she was..." Daphne trailed off uncertainly.
"Not really." Harry said. "Sharen helped me and comforted me sometimes too. That was nice in its own way, but Magic knows exactly what will comfort me the most. She could always comfort me and keep me relaxed or calm, or things like that. Whenever Sharen or anyone else tried that, they wouldn't ever know what I wanted. You were the first person to know that kind of thing, last year when you just quietly hugged me and stayed with me."
"Oh." Daphne responded. "Well I'm glad I helped. And, you did with me, too." Daphne seemed almost sad, Harry thought.
"Are you okay, Daphne?" Harry asked.
"Yeah." Daphne responded, her voice a bit brighter. "Yeah, Harry, I'm okay."
"I probably shouldn't have brought up such a grim subject." Harry said.
"No, no, I brought it up." Daphne replied. "Don't worry about me, Harry. I'm just fine."
When Harry entered the Great Hall later on that evening for the Halloween feast, he realized that this would be the first one where he'd actually be able to eat. The year before, he was at the Deathday Party for Nearly Headless Nick, and in his first year, Quirrell had interrupted the feast with announcements of the troll. Harry heard the flapping as he had in his first year, and as Magic was leading him and sensed his wish to know what it was, she stated, "Live bats are flying around. There are candle-filled pumpkins, and orange streamers as decorations."
"How boring." Harry remarked. "I bet the food will be good, though."
Harry, who had stopped eating sweets around lunch time, found himself eating third and fourth helpings of the feast's food, which was, as usual, delicious. He could feel the feeling of his magic, which was beginning to feel more like his flame combine with phoenix magic, growing stronger, deeper, as both he and Magic ate. He found it comforting, making his flame of magic warmer, calmer than before. When he was pleasantly full, Magic was still eating next to him. He turned toward her and asked, "Not done yet?"
"You wish to feel a deeper magic." She responded, then went back to eating.
"Magic, what are you, pregnant or something?" Ron asked after a few minutes. "You've eaten more than I have! What's that, your sixth helping of food or something?"
"Yes." Magic stated. "But I shall not be continuing, as it's unlikely they will keep the food on the table. Also, given that you were eating sweets from Hogsmeade shops, I'm unsurprised I'm able to consume more than you at the current time."
Some type of entertainment from the Hogwarts ghosts was provided to finish off the evening, but Harry found that less enjoyable than he'd found the delicious food. All in all, he felt quite comfortable and pleasant as he stood with the rest when it was all over, and with Magic gripping his hand to lead him, began walking from the Great Hall.
"One year, twenty minutes, and four point four three seconds ago, I was petrified, and you were grieving." Magic stated.
"Still exacting in that timing, are you, Magic?" Harry asked, feeling a bit of euphoria at the realization that his flame of magic was warmer, deeper, and calmer than ever, and not at all frozen.
"Yes." Magic stated.
Harry simply grinned, saying nothing as he walked up to the Gryffindor tower with Magic leading him, not using his cane. After he entered, he sat next to her on one of the couches and leaned against her, still gripping her hand. Before he realized it, the sound of voices, the warm fire, and Magic's presence next to him sent him drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Magic woke him early the next morning without him even telling her he wanted it, giving him enough time to get ready for classes, something Harry was very happy about. For once, he noted, his Halloween had been peaceful, and for the first time at Hogwarts, nothing bad had happened that day.
The days continued to pass, and the weather grew worse. Despite the rain that came down, and the colder winds, Wood was adamant that they continue to train on the Quidditch Pitch for the upcoming match. Harry, flying through the rain and the wind, was starting to have second thoughts about whether his playing Quidditch was such a good idea. While the sound of the weather was dampened while he was on the broom, its effects weren't, and he felt he was only kept warm due to his magic. Though that felt nice as it always had, he was nervous about flying in weather that was like this, with eight others in the air, as the other team, and Madam Hooch, the ref, would be flying as well. After one training session, Harry, who wasn't shivering along with his other teammates, pulled off his drenched uniform and asked, "Are they still going to hold the match, even if the weather's worse than this?"
"Yeah." Fred replied. "Weather doesn't stop Quidditch. They've played in some pretty nasty thunder storms before, and from the look of things, we'll probably be doing that."
"But, you've got this, mate." George added brightly, though despite that, Harry still felt concerned.
The weather continued to grow worse as the day of the match approached. Wind howled through the castle, and the sound of rain driving against the windows was quite loud. Because of the weather, Harry found himself enjoying his for-poster bed more than he usually did, snuggling deep into the blankets and mattress, and late one night when he was almost asleep, an idle thought of his sent Magic teleporting into the bed with him, her very warm body snuggled against his own. Harry didn't panic, though, only drifted off to sleep, and was awakened by Magic before anyone else woke up.
"What was that for?" Harry asked her after they made their way to the common room.
"You wanted me." Magic stated. "I came."
"I admit to thinking about it, wondering what it would have been like, especially with all this weather. But if someone saw you there, then my dorm mates would have even more to talk about in terms of something being between us than they already do." Harry said.
"No one would have seen me." Magic replied. "You didn't want them to, and therefore, I wouldn't be there if someone was going to see you."
"Oh." Harry responded. "Well, I'm glad you took that into account."
"You enjoyed sleeping with me." Magic stated.
"Yeah." Harry replied. "I really did. It reminded me of when you'd sleep with me as a child. That was always nice, really peaceful."
"Yes." Magic stated.
"So. Going to keep an eye on me tomorrow when I'm flying around?" Harry asked.
"I will be aware of you." Magic responded. "Due to the weather conditions, seeing you visually will be problematic."
"I know you don't have to see me." Harry said. "But I like it when you're watching out for me."
"Yes." Magic agreed. "I feel all that you do, and am fully aware of all that you wish."
Only one thing of interest happened that day. The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was being taught, temporarily, by Professor Dumbledore, who proved himself to be a very good teacher of his own. Harry knew that Professor Lupin was out, probably because of his being a werewolf. Aside from that, the day went by quite normally, and the next morning, Harry was startled awake by Peeves, Hogwart's Poltergeist, blowing in his ear.
"What did you do that for?" Harry asked quietly, but firmly.
Peeves didn't answer, only blew in his face and zoomed, cackling, out of the room. Harry was a bit surprised that no one else woke up, but now that he was awake, he found himself even more surprised that he'd been able to sleep through the racket the weather was making. With a sigh, Harry gathered some clothes together and took a very warm shower, enjoying it for about twenty minutes before he dressed and went down to the common room.
"Hey, Magic." Harry said, walking over to her and sitting down next to her on the couch, hearing Crookshanks, Hermione's cat, purring in her lap.
"Hello." Magic stated sedately as Harry reached out, feeling Magic's hot hand as she petted the cat.
"You like petting Crookshanks?" Harry asked.
"Crookshanks likes being petted." Magic stated. "You like hearing Crookshanks purr."
"I do." Harry said. "Was petting Crookshanks something I wanted, or is this the doing more than I wish thing, again?"
"You would have petted Crookshanks. The cat likes it. You would approve of me being nice, and enjoy petting Crookshanks with me if you woke in time to do so." Magic said. Harry found himself grinning at her attempt to reason out doing something that she wanted.
"How about, I wanted to pet Crookshanks. How does that sound?" Harry asked.
"My reasons are accurate." Magic stated. "I wish to do as you wish, and your approval draws us closer, which you wish. Therefore, by petting Crookshanks and gaining your approval and good feelings, I'm doing as you wish."
"Okay, Magic." Harry said, though was secretly glad she'd come up with a reason like that.
When it came to Magic, he admitted to himself that, perhaps, he was a bit selfish with her, wanting to keep her the calm, placid self that he'd known, who would do all that he wished her to do. She was complying with that. He also wanted her to do more than what he wanted, but also stay within doing things that he wanted her to do, and she was complying with that, too. As he petted Crookshanks with her, he grinned widely.
"This is nice." He said. "Thanks, Magic."
"Crookshanks chose to curl on my lap and enjoy my attention." Magic stated, but even as she did so, he felt his flame of magic wrap soothingly around him, almost seeming to wrap his entire body up in a hug that felt like pure love. A few tears rolled down his face at the strength of the feeling, and Magic said in a quiet voice, "You like this."
"I love this." Harry corrected, his voice cheerful.
His good feeling didn't last longer than about an hour. The weather wasn't getting any better, and as far as Harry knew, there were no signs of canceling the match. By the time it was breakfast, Harry felt almost sick to his stomach as he went to the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table, but making no move to get anything.
"Eating will keep your strength at a level to provide maximum efficiency." Magic stated after a minute passed. Beside him, she was putting breakfast on her own plate.
"I don't feel like eating." Harry said, then swallowed. "I feel sick to my stomach."
Magic said nothing more, and Harry took her free right hand in his, clutching it tight. She continued to eat, and a few minutes later, Harry heard the rest of the Quidditch team entering.
"Morning, Harry." Katie Bell said, sitting down on his other side. "Hi, Magic."
"Hello, Katie." Magic responded.
"Harry, you going to eat?" Katie asked.
"No." Harry replied. "I'm too sick to eat."
"Just have a bit of something. You're going to need it." Alicia said.
Harry wasn't the only one who wasn't eating. Wood, from what Harry could tell, wasn't eating anything, either.
"It's going to be tough." He said.
"They aren't canceling the match, then?" Harry asked. "I was right?"
"No, we'll be playing." Wood stated, and Harry jumped as he heard a particularly loud clap of thunder.
"Wonderful." Harry said, feeling his hands shaking a bit. "Better get my broom here. Magic..."
Harry trailed off, but knew Magic would know what he wanted. He was right. He felt the flame of his magic as it teleported his broom into his free right hand. He gripped it and sighed to himself. The team was so used to seeing such feats of magic from Harry that they said nothing at the display of powerful magic. Harry idly thought that most people in Hogwarts probably wouldn't say much to him, even though certain jealous people kept trying to find ways past the magic he used to keep himself protected.
The rain drove down in icy sheets, and the wind battered Harry as he made his way, led by George, down to the locker rooms to change into his Quidditch uniform. The only thing that would ensure he heard anything in this kind of weather was the broom's sound dampening system, for which Harry was glad. Magic, he knew, was repelling all the rain from hitting her, and had probably already found a good place to sit so she could see him.
Harry heard nothing from Wood except a rather shaky, "Let's do this. Let's win."
Harry heard the clapping of thunder, quite loud overhead as he walked onto the Quidditch field. The wind slammed into him and the rain pounded down. He didn't shiver, only felt the nice warming effect from his magic. He was barely able to hear the sound of the whistle as he kicked off from the ground, flying high and hearing the comfortingly familiar clicks and tones as his broom detected objects and people, and the Quidditch balls around him.
The sounds that helped him to navigate in the air was the only comforting thing he was aware of, along with the feel of his magic warming him from the inside out. The rain still hit him hard, as he didn't want to cheat and repel it from himself or his broom. As a result, his hands slipped and slid on the broom, and several times, he thought he was going to fall off. His decision was giving him some second thoughts, and he briefly wondered if repelling the rain from himself and the broom was the better way to go. Most of his attention was focused on the game, though, and he spent little time on that line of thought.
He flew around the field, passing Malfoy several times, at least, he thought he did. The tones for players didn't identify for him, who was on what side, as he was only the Seeker, and from what he gathered from the design of the broom, he didn't need to know such information if he was only seeking for the Snitch. As time passed, it grew harder to fly his broom and keep it going in a specific direction, the wind blowing harder and the rain falling thicker. The thunder even seemed to be getting louder, too, and Harry was hardly aware of hearing Madam Hooch whistling for time out through the rest of the dampened sounds he was aware of. He heard her, though, and his team calling him down. He landed and stumbled a bit, realizing he'd been quite tense, struggling to loosen himself up and relax.
"This way!" Wood called, and Harry found himself led under a large umbrella.
"What's the score?" George asked.
"We're thirty points up." Wood responded. "But unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night."
"Wonderful." Harry said. "So it's up to me, then?"
"That's right." Wood said. "You up to it, Harry?"
"No." Harry stated honestly. "I can hardly stay on course with all this wind and rain, and each time I hear thunder clapping I feel like I'm going to get struck by lightning."
"Oh, you'll be fine." Wood said, trying to shrug it off, though Harry noticed his voice didn't sound very convincing. "You've got to get that Snitch, Harry, for the team, for me. This is the last time I'll be able to get the cup, and I won't have it taken from us just because we didn't win!"
"I'll tell you what, Captain Wood." Harry said calmly, but firmly. "I'll finish this game, but this honest stupidity of playing in weather like this is giving me serious reservations. I'm not sure I want to keep this up if this is what I've got to look forward to playing in."
"It's not always like this, Harry." Wood said. "Come on, you can do this! Let's go!"
Harry, along with the rest of the team, went back out onto the field and kicked off. He listened intently to hear the sound of the Snitch as he flew from one side of the field to the other, using the clicks and the various sounds to indicate where he was. Thunder kept clapping, the wind kept blowing hard, and the rain continued to come down in icy sheets, though Harry was more effected by the hard wind than how cold things were. To his great relief, he heard the sound indicating the Snitch behind him and whirled around, zooming toward it and hearing the tone of another player heading toward it from the other direction. Throwing himself flat on his broom, Harry urged it closer as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, thought he could smell the scent of ozone in the air. His heart pounded as he got a sense of foreboding, thrusting his hand out toward the Snitch. The last thing he remembered as his hand closed around it, was agony ripping throughout his body like he'd never known before from, what was unknown to him, to be a lightning strike that hit his broom and himself.