Harry Potter and The Weaver's Wizardry – Chapter 1
Harry Potter had just turned 5 when he was forced to stay at Mrs Figg's when the Dursley's, a self-proclaimed normal family decided to go on holiday without him.
It was during this period when he saw one of her cats play with a ball of wool and he felt the call.
Something inside him had awoken and his fingers yearned for the touch of wool, to feel the rough fabric wind around his fingers.
Two weeks later and the Dursley's return saw the yearning turn into obsession as the only source of his contact with the call was denied.
Whenever his eyes closed Harry could hear shuffling as something was woven back and forth and the clacking of something metal.
Even knowing that he could get into trouble for asking, Harry requested, pleaded even, for his aunt to buy him some wool and knitting needles.
It took the promise of coming straight home and out of sight for Petunia to even think about humoring his request, the relief of having the boy out of prying eyes appearing too good to be true.
As she watched his eyes widen and glaze with moisture, she caved and hustled off to an appropriate store, getting the cheapest material there was to appease him.
The moment the door opened to signify her return, she pulled up short when she noticed his wide gaze resting on her from the stairs.
"Here," she said as she handed over the bag that held her purchases. "I bought you a book as well."
"Really?" Harry asked as he took the bag with trembling fingers.
"Yes," Petunia said as she wiped her hands on her dress. There was something in his gaze that made her feel uneasy. "You'll still have to do some chores to make up for the money it took to purchase it."
"Thank you aunt Petunia," Harry said as he held the bag with both hands.
"Don't worry about cooking," Petunia said as she coughed into her hand. "It was silly of me to ask you to do that. You'll have to do the laundry though."
"Of course," Harry said as he turned before freezing. "May I be excused?"
"Yes, fine," Petunia said with a sigh. "I'll let you have this one day off. You can start the laundry tomorrow."
"Thank you," Harry said and surprised them both when he wrapped her arms around her leg.
"Just… just go already," Petunia said as he gazed up at her.
Harry turned and raced back to his cupboard, shutting the door with ease as Petunia watched on with an ache in her chest.
She shook her head and headed into the kitchen to start dinner, turning thoughts over in her head.
Harry on the other hand was lost in the book that she had given him, the first present he had received in the 4 years he had been there.
Running his fingers down the pages, Harry looked at the pictures and something inside him sang. Pulling out one of the balls of wool, he lost himself in its feel.
It was rough and warbled but the longer he held it he could feel the warmth and comfort sweep through him. He reveled in the feeling and was lost to the world as he nestled himself into the small mattress.
Over the next few months, Harry started dreaming of a world different to the one he knew but just as unique. A large temple wound out in a crater, its spiraling prongs reaching the lip.
Looms and sunlight filled his head as a teacher explained the ins and outs of weaving and its materials.
There were 4 children from all walks of life as they got used to the new monotony of a day to day life in taking care of a home, of learning new languages and relaxing on a roof.
The dreams helped him adjust to the fear and insecurities of both himself and his peers as he went to school.
The way Dudley and his friends bullied him for his fascination and skill at knitting and weaving.
The other children joining in since Dudley did and no one wanted to be a target for standing up to him.
The fact that the teachers stood back and watched him be surrounded and called names.
Harry was had turned 8 when the dreams that had faded away to become a figment of his imagination began anew.
The night of his birthday he felt like he was trapped underneath the ground. The fear he felt made the house shudder as he gasped for breath when the children were rescued.
The Dursley's had no choice but to move him to Dudley's spare room when he refused to enter his cupboard.
In the middle of a thunderstorm 6 months later, the fabric decorating his room bristled and a metallic sheen covered the arching threads as glazed eyes raged at invading pirates.
His 9th birthday saw a flaring of the candles at Dudley's party as he watched a teen girl standing firm against a forest fire.
When Harry turned 10 he was bedbound with fever as an epidemic plagued his dreams and they city that he dreamt.
When he recovered from his fever, Harry kept them close to his chest. While his relationship with his aunt had become more familial, there was still a barrier between them that only time could erase.
Ever since that fateful day when Petunia gave him his first balls of yarn, the amount of unnatural happenings had died down as the wool absorbed most of his negative emotions.
He could still feel the anger and fear but they were no longer overwhelming and that eased the strained tension between the Dursley's and himself far more than words or simple actions could have.
Harry often wished he could be like the girl with golden hair that shone in the light. The poise and majesty when she spun wool without holding the spindle, the knowledge and creativity as she learned to weave healing and protection into everyday things.
It was a chilled afternoon as frigid winds raced through the streets. The sky was heavy with thick clouds that looked like they could break at any moment.
Harry wished that he could stay in his room all day but society dictated that he had to go to school.
True to his word, Harry had done the laundry without complaint and was rewarded with more fabrics and tools to keep him satisfied.
While his home life wasn't ideal, they made it work as something about him made his uncle lash out.
He snapped back into reality when a biting wind blew past and made the hairs on his skin rise.
Harry glared at the large, baggy hand-me-downs that he had to wear and wished that it was warm, tight and formfitting.
His jaw dropped when the threads began to move as they wrapped tighter around him, closing the holes as the excess threads pooled into his hands.
While the threads were moving, something inside of him moved in sync, the soothing rustle of silk and cotton travelling up from his stomach and down into his fingertips.
Holding his hands up, he imagined the threads being cut and they obeyed without fuss. He tucked the loose threads into his pocket and spent the rest of the day in blissful oblivion, answering when prompted.
His fingers ran through the rough fabric and imagined all the things he could do once he got home.
The moment the door to the Dursley residence closed behind him, Harry rushed to his room as he sorted through the charms as he prayed that what happened wasn't a fluke.
He found a charm made from bright yellow wool and willed it to glow with all the concentration of a 10 year old.
What followed was an intense flash of light that would have blinded him had he not scrunched his face. Even with his eyes closed as children were prone to do, he still had to blink spots out of his eyes as they watered.
It was a blessing that no one was home to witness his attempt. Petunia and Dudley were at the shops while Vernon was still at work.
His teeth shone in the steady light as he gazed down at the glowing charm. With a mental command, the charm dulled until it was a lamp turned on during the day.
"I have magic?" Harry said to himself, unaware of the fact that it was genetic and not a coincidence. The dreams he had had left a mark on him and his magic worked to adapt to his understanding of it.
It was Dudley's 11th birthday when Harry's life took a different path from what he had expected for himself.
The plan was simple, go to Stonewall High, focus on Textiles and make a career out of fashion design.
Harry was watching a boa that the two boys had deemed boring because it wasn't moving.
"Sorry about them, they don't think about other people most of the time," Harry said as the snake began to shift. "At least you have glass separating you from everyone else."
The snake opened an eye and blinked as it slithered off its branch to coil in front of the glass.
'It'sss alright, happensss more than you think,' The snake said as its tongue tasted the air.
"You can talk?"
The snake looked amused at the wide eyes of the human hatchling when one of the two from before approached from behind.
"Dudley, Mr Dursley, come quick," The other boy said as his voice echoed in the hall. "The snake is moving."
"Move you," Dudley said as he came up from behind to slam his fist into Harry's ribs. The lean boy stumbled to the floor as he clutched his ribs and glared at the two who were fogging up the glass.
Harry blinked as he watched the glass vanish and Dudley toppled into the enclosure as the snake slid down to the floor on its way to freedom.
'Thank you friend, may we meet again," The snake said as it slithered past Harry and out the door.
"Anytime," Harry said as he watched the tip of its tail vanish.
Harry kept his mouth shut as Dudley and Piers came up with more and more outrageous stories about what happened. He knew if he said anything then the only thing that was waiting was punishment.
He had gone months without punishment and he had no plan to start again.
"Harry was talking to it," Piers asked him as he leaned around Dudley's bulk to stare. "You were, weren't you?"
He just shook his head as he met Vernon's eyes in the rearview mirror. A headache was beginning to form behind his scar as it drummed an irregular rhythm beneath his skin.
When the car pulled up into the driveway, Harry waited until he had a clear path and dashed to his room where he locked the door.
As he slid to the floor, the day's events swept through him and he found himself losing strength in his limbs. His breaths were ragged as the pain in his head became too much.
His eyes fluttered as he slumped to the floor. His head was aching as the scar on his forehead began to burn, the intensity and tempo increasing until it was a blistering tempo.
In his mind the tendrils of light that he associated as his magic were twined around a writhing shadow as it hissed at him.
"You will die," the shadow said as its presence released an aura that sapped his strength and made his chest ache.
Harry tried to focus on the charms of light and warmth that hung in his room and the ache eased somewhat when 4 familiar figures with ethereal skin overlapped as they wrapped him in their embrace.
"It's okay little child, you are so young for this battle so let us fight for you," The blonde woman said as her voice eased his fear, hope and peace weaving together around him.
"You will never be plagued by him in your mind again," The red haired woman followed as energy formed in her hands and she began to bombard the shadow with bolts of lightning.
"We are to blame for this," The dark skinned woman formed walls of energy around Harry that expanded and drove away the darkness, leaving the room as a weaver's workshop.
"So we shall fix it," The tanned man said as flowers began to bloom, as the peace and combined energy proved to be too much for the shadow and it fell to form a small orb.
"We are many" The four figures said as energy circled from one to the next, forming a bright ring. "Yet we are also one."
The shadow could sense what was going to happen and charged, only to bounce as the walls began to tighten.
"No," The shadow said as it was squeezed by the energy. "I will not perish like this."
"Begone," The blonde woman said as she flicked with her hand.
With one last surge of energy the shadow disappeared and the night sky outside of the workshop began to lighten as the sun rose.
"You're safe now," Lady Sandrilene fa Toren said to Harry as she wrapped her arms around him, eyes glazing over as moisture blurred her vision. "As you have watched us grow, so have we with you."
"With that thing in your head gone we are no longer needed," Tris set a hand on his shoulder, sparks leaving tingles in their wake.
"It is time for your sails to catch the wind and ride the waves on your own," Daja said as she crouched down to rub circles into his back.
"So don't be scared to live, it's a wide world out there," Briar said as he ruffled Harry's hair. "So find your friends and cherish them."
"Good luck," Sandry said as they began to fade away.
When the energy faded away and Harry opened his eyes, he found his room a mess. The charms and fabrics were scattered around the room while a trickle of blood was running down his face.
He had just enough energy to make it to the bed where he slumped and was dead to the world. While the pain in his head was gone, so was some of the warmth that his magic gave him.
Now that he knew what the warmth was, moisture pooled in his eyes as no matter what he tried, nothing felt like the comfort that the 4 had given him, even without him knowing.