He grabbed it, stared at it hesitantly before bringing it gingerly down to his arm, gasping slightly as cold metal touched bare skin.
Then he began to drag, slowly at first, then quickly as he adjusted his technique. The feeling produced could only be described as pure and utter rapture as the pain flowed from him quicker than before. His muscles relaxed and he felt the heat leave his body and settle to its normal levels.
After several minutes of laying there limply, a bloodied razor in his hand, he raised his head. He was slumped on the floor, one arm draining blood into the bath, the other lying languidly on his stomach. He stood, and was briefly hit with a wave of dizziness and for a second he thought that it had not worked until he realized that it was only from blood loss. He looked down at his slashed arm and grimaced at the ugly thin gashes that marred his once perfect skin. 'At least the razor was sharp' he thought grimly to himself, horrified at what the consequences could have been had it been blunt.
He washed the bath quickly, and the razor, and placed it carefully back where in had come from. He bathed his arm in water and went back to his room to tear up an old shirt to wrap around it. The make shift bandage worked to some degree but he wore long sleeved shirts just to cover it up in case the Dursleys chose this day to make themselves conscious of his presence.
He returned to his room to read an old Quidditch book, waiting for Hedwig to return. He felt slightly guilty reading a book this useless but he knew their was nothing else to be gleaned from his old textbooks until Hedwig got back. Besides he owed it to his teammates to at least do some reading on the sport, if it was impossible for him to actually practice.
He was surprised at how fast he was learning. Normally he would take weeks to even review one subject yet here he was less than one week after school and already he was finished. And now that he thought about it, he hadn't eaten anything for at least two days and wasn't hungry in the slightest. Something definitely very weird was going on with him.
He sat their musing, trying not to let his thoughts to return to Voldemort and Sirius, and risk re-sparking another episode like this morning.
It was noon before he was finally pulled to his senses, again to the sound of an agitated Hedwig at the window. Feeling slightly guilty of his treatment of her before he opened the window and apologized to her straight away. She seemed to understand his mood and accepted gracefully, after a quick hard peck at his fingers. The book shop owner had thankfully placed a timed weightlessness and shrinking charm on the books, and just as well, as their was a lot of books there. Probably over twenty if he bothered to count. The beginnings of his very own (Lockhart-free) library. He had no idea how he would get them all to Hogwarts without magic.
He pulled the small but obvious tab at the bottom of the small squarish package and watched it spring open and rematerialise in it's proper shape and size. Happy for something to do he grabbed the top book and after asking Hedwig politely to deliver Hermione's letter when she was feeling up to it, he sat down to read. Hedwig puffed out her chest haughtily at Harry's comment and grabbed the parchment before flying out the window. But Harry did not see her little display of pride, as he was already immersed in his book, 'Witch and Wizard Development stages, what to expect as you grow older'.
He didn't know why he had bought this book, but in his haze of pain, he hadn't really paid much attention. It sounded a bit like a magical version of the birds and the bees story, and half expected miniature models to jump up and demonstrate when he opened the page, not that he was that adverse to it. But wizard books did have a habit of being quite different to what your original perception of them was.
This seemed to be a book about a sort of magical puberty that non-muggles went through in their early twenties, where their powers increase significantly and their growth rate slows to that of a normal magical person. It seems that up until this age, witches and wizards grew at the same rate as humans. Before they settled into their lengthened life span. However it was the following excerpt that caught his eye:
'The Magical time of change is different for everyone. It can uncover hidden or latent talents, increase general magic, and knowledge, or it can do the opposite. The latter can be prevented if caught early enough however it often leaves the witch or wizard with slightly diminished magical ability. It generally occurs between the ages of 20-25 for wizards and 19-23 for witches. The changing is a commonly known event however it is not an appropriate topic for conversation and so the public's awareness of it is relatively low, despite the fact that most of the magical population has endured it, some more than once. If you believe you are going through the change, it is imperative that you contact the ministry as soon as possible.
The change is often marked by sudden losses of appetite and insomnia, however if you have been in contact with a three foot Snorfulac then it would be wise to first rule out the possibility that you have contracted the three foot parasite (confirm by checking for the presence of additional limbs). Other symptoms include mental weakness and vulnerability and increased stamina. After a week to a week and a half the second stage of the changing begins, the time of pain and growth and it is imperative that you are at St Mungos specialty changing unit to be administered the painless potions to combat the magical growth pains that would other wise incapacitate the wizard. These can last up to three days however the average is more like twelve hours.
The next stage of wizard development does not occur until the wizard or witches 30th year, and is the only stage between the changing and the aftermath stage in the one hundredth year...'
Harry stopped reading at that point as a slow realization drew over him. How he had managed to buy the right book for his 'condition' he would never know but he was grateful that he had in time. It had been five days since he had first started feeling the symptoms the day he got home. He still had 2 days left, more if he was lucky. He scrawled a note to Lupin, and then one to Dumbledore about it and, feeling satisfied, sat back to read another potions book.
His only interruption that night was Hedwig bringing a reply from Hermione and taking off again with the two other letters. He vowed to let her have a rest when she got back.
He put down his book and quickly read Hermione's letter, which was obviously written in a rush.
Dear Harry
Sorry this is short but we were just leaving for our holiday when this showed up and I thought you would like a reply straight away. Already finished?? Good lord, I'm only half way through. But then I did write double for Professor Binns three-foot essay. Hagar the Horrible troll was just such an interesting historical figure don't you think? Glad the Dursleys aren't bothering you, and tell Dumbledore straight away if Voldemort is in your dreams again. I know I write that every week but you have a history of keeping them to yourself.
Take care of yourself
Luv Herms
She signed it with her pet name that Ron and Harry called her, no doubt an attempt to cheer him up, as he knew she hated it. It was good to know that he was beating Hermione in his homework, though hers was probably of better quality. Perhaps it was a consequence of this changing he was sure he was going through. Just then a sentence from the book showed itself again in his mind. '...between the ages of 20-25 for wizards...' He was only fifteen (soon sixteen), it couldn't possibly be the changing. Harry began to feel utterly stupid for having written to Dumbledore and Lupin with such a personal and false event. Why hadn't he read the book properly? His concentration had been impeccable up till that slip. And now they would think him totally ignorant. Not at all his goal for this year. And Snape would surely never let him in his class if he heard about this idiotic blunder. He was way too young for the changing. Now they were probably worrying for his emotional state.
Quickly he wrote a second note for Dumbledore and Lupin trying to correct the error and left it beside Hedwig's perch. It read,
Dear Professors Dumbledore and Lupin
Please disregard my previous letter about the changing, for having now read up on it I am aware that I am way too young to go through it. I apologize for annoying you with this totally inappropriate topic and hope you will see fit to forget totally about this matter.
Sorry again
Harry Potter
Perhaps a little impersonal and short but he didn't know what else to write that wouldn't make him sound even more like an idiot.
Now that he thought about it all of his symptoms could be explained away quite easily. He wasn't eating because he was making up from all the huge feasts he had eaten during the year at Hogwarts, and he wasn't sleeping, just from the nightmares... yes that was it he was sub-consciously too scared to sleep. And his concentration was just improved from the lack of the usual distractions he had to put up with at school, like Ron nagging him to play wizards chess or exploding snap. Sometimes he wondered if Ron would ever get tired of those stupid children's games.
He sat down to once more become absorbed within the potions book, and having found an interesting correlation in two different potions, began to jot down notes in fascination.
After what seemed like only minutes to Harry he looked up and noticed that the next letter was gone. Hedwig had taken it and Harry had left the window open. He was freezing but for some reason didn't really care. He could tell it was less than 5 degrees outside and even in a light long sleeve cotton shirt and shorts, he was still fairly comfortable. He shrugged it of and looked down at his notes, surprised to see how much he had actually done.
He pushed them to one side of the table and upon seeing the first rays of dawn poking their way through the clouds; he pulled on his shoes and went for a run.
His senses were alert to any change in breathing patterns after what had happened the morning before, but he wasn't prepared for what hit him only ten metres from the house.
Then he began to drag, slowly at first, then quickly as he adjusted his technique. The feeling produced could only be described as pure and utter rapture as the pain flowed from him quicker than before. His muscles relaxed and he felt the heat leave his body and settle to its normal levels.
After several minutes of laying there limply, a bloodied razor in his hand, he raised his head. He was slumped on the floor, one arm draining blood into the bath, the other lying languidly on his stomach. He stood, and was briefly hit with a wave of dizziness and for a second he thought that it had not worked until he realized that it was only from blood loss. He looked down at his slashed arm and grimaced at the ugly thin gashes that marred his once perfect skin. 'At least the razor was sharp' he thought grimly to himself, horrified at what the consequences could have been had it been blunt.
He washed the bath quickly, and the razor, and placed it carefully back where in had come from. He bathed his arm in water and went back to his room to tear up an old shirt to wrap around it. The make shift bandage worked to some degree but he wore long sleeved shirts just to cover it up in case the Dursleys chose this day to make themselves conscious of his presence.
He returned to his room to read an old Quidditch book, waiting for Hedwig to return. He felt slightly guilty reading a book this useless but he knew their was nothing else to be gleaned from his old textbooks until Hedwig got back. Besides he owed it to his teammates to at least do some reading on the sport, if it was impossible for him to actually practice.
He was surprised at how fast he was learning. Normally he would take weeks to even review one subject yet here he was less than one week after school and already he was finished. And now that he thought about it, he hadn't eaten anything for at least two days and wasn't hungry in the slightest. Something definitely very weird was going on with him.
He sat their musing, trying not to let his thoughts to return to Voldemort and Sirius, and risk re-sparking another episode like this morning.
It was noon before he was finally pulled to his senses, again to the sound of an agitated Hedwig at the window. Feeling slightly guilty of his treatment of her before he opened the window and apologized to her straight away. She seemed to understand his mood and accepted gracefully, after a quick hard peck at his fingers. The book shop owner had thankfully placed a timed weightlessness and shrinking charm on the books, and just as well, as their was a lot of books there. Probably over twenty if he bothered to count. The beginnings of his very own (Lockhart-free) library. He had no idea how he would get them all to Hogwarts without magic.
He pulled the small but obvious tab at the bottom of the small squarish package and watched it spring open and rematerialise in it's proper shape and size. Happy for something to do he grabbed the top book and after asking Hedwig politely to deliver Hermione's letter when she was feeling up to it, he sat down to read. Hedwig puffed out her chest haughtily at Harry's comment and grabbed the parchment before flying out the window. But Harry did not see her little display of pride, as he was already immersed in his book, 'Witch and Wizard Development stages, what to expect as you grow older'.
He didn't know why he had bought this book, but in his haze of pain, he hadn't really paid much attention. It sounded a bit like a magical version of the birds and the bees story, and half expected miniature models to jump up and demonstrate when he opened the page, not that he was that adverse to it. But wizard books did have a habit of being quite different to what your original perception of them was.
This seemed to be a book about a sort of magical puberty that non-muggles went through in their early twenties, where their powers increase significantly and their growth rate slows to that of a normal magical person. It seems that up until this age, witches and wizards grew at the same rate as humans. Before they settled into their lengthened life span. However it was the following excerpt that caught his eye:
'The Magical time of change is different for everyone. It can uncover hidden or latent talents, increase general magic, and knowledge, or it can do the opposite. The latter can be prevented if caught early enough however it often leaves the witch or wizard with slightly diminished magical ability. It generally occurs between the ages of 20-25 for wizards and 19-23 for witches. The changing is a commonly known event however it is not an appropriate topic for conversation and so the public's awareness of it is relatively low, despite the fact that most of the magical population has endured it, some more than once. If you believe you are going through the change, it is imperative that you contact the ministry as soon as possible.
The change is often marked by sudden losses of appetite and insomnia, however if you have been in contact with a three foot Snorfulac then it would be wise to first rule out the possibility that you have contracted the three foot parasite (confirm by checking for the presence of additional limbs). Other symptoms include mental weakness and vulnerability and increased stamina. After a week to a week and a half the second stage of the changing begins, the time of pain and growth and it is imperative that you are at St Mungos specialty changing unit to be administered the painless potions to combat the magical growth pains that would other wise incapacitate the wizard. These can last up to three days however the average is more like twelve hours.
The next stage of wizard development does not occur until the wizard or witches 30th year, and is the only stage between the changing and the aftermath stage in the one hundredth year...'
Harry stopped reading at that point as a slow realization drew over him. How he had managed to buy the right book for his 'condition' he would never know but he was grateful that he had in time. It had been five days since he had first started feeling the symptoms the day he got home. He still had 2 days left, more if he was lucky. He scrawled a note to Lupin, and then one to Dumbledore about it and, feeling satisfied, sat back to read another potions book.
His only interruption that night was Hedwig bringing a reply from Hermione and taking off again with the two other letters. He vowed to let her have a rest when she got back.
He put down his book and quickly read Hermione's letter, which was obviously written in a rush.
Dear Harry
Sorry this is short but we were just leaving for our holiday when this showed up and I thought you would like a reply straight away. Already finished?? Good lord, I'm only half way through. But then I did write double for Professor Binns three-foot essay. Hagar the Horrible troll was just such an interesting historical figure don't you think? Glad the Dursleys aren't bothering you, and tell Dumbledore straight away if Voldemort is in your dreams again. I know I write that every week but you have a history of keeping them to yourself.
Take care of yourself
Luv Herms
She signed it with her pet name that Ron and Harry called her, no doubt an attempt to cheer him up, as he knew she hated it. It was good to know that he was beating Hermione in his homework, though hers was probably of better quality. Perhaps it was a consequence of this changing he was sure he was going through. Just then a sentence from the book showed itself again in his mind. '...between the ages of 20-25 for wizards...' He was only fifteen (soon sixteen), it couldn't possibly be the changing. Harry began to feel utterly stupid for having written to Dumbledore and Lupin with such a personal and false event. Why hadn't he read the book properly? His concentration had been impeccable up till that slip. And now they would think him totally ignorant. Not at all his goal for this year. And Snape would surely never let him in his class if he heard about this idiotic blunder. He was way too young for the changing. Now they were probably worrying for his emotional state.
Quickly he wrote a second note for Dumbledore and Lupin trying to correct the error and left it beside Hedwig's perch. It read,
Dear Professors Dumbledore and Lupin
Please disregard my previous letter about the changing, for having now read up on it I am aware that I am way too young to go through it. I apologize for annoying you with this totally inappropriate topic and hope you will see fit to forget totally about this matter.
Sorry again
Harry Potter
Perhaps a little impersonal and short but he didn't know what else to write that wouldn't make him sound even more like an idiot.
Now that he thought about it all of his symptoms could be explained away quite easily. He wasn't eating because he was making up from all the huge feasts he had eaten during the year at Hogwarts, and he wasn't sleeping, just from the nightmares... yes that was it he was sub-consciously too scared to sleep. And his concentration was just improved from the lack of the usual distractions he had to put up with at school, like Ron nagging him to play wizards chess or exploding snap. Sometimes he wondered if Ron would ever get tired of those stupid children's games.
He sat down to once more become absorbed within the potions book, and having found an interesting correlation in two different potions, began to jot down notes in fascination.
After what seemed like only minutes to Harry he looked up and noticed that the next letter was gone. Hedwig had taken it and Harry had left the window open. He was freezing but for some reason didn't really care. He could tell it was less than 5 degrees outside and even in a light long sleeve cotton shirt and shorts, he was still fairly comfortable. He shrugged it of and looked down at his notes, surprised to see how much he had actually done.
He pushed them to one side of the table and upon seeing the first rays of dawn poking their way through the clouds; he pulled on his shoes and went for a run.
His senses were alert to any change in breathing patterns after what had happened the morning before, but he wasn't prepared for what hit him only ten metres from the house.