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Part 5 - You're a Wizard Harry

The power and potential spell was not common knowledge. Only select Aurors and Unspeakabes knew it, as it took quite a bit of strength on the part of the caster themselves. The spell itself was deceptively simple. It caused a resistance reaction in the subject's magic, which showed as an aura for the caster to read. Babies that had magical ability usually had a shell pink aura, which darkened as they grew. The pale pink aura of Rose was normal for her age and development. As she got older the pink would get darker. Strong Witches and Wizards had a red tinge to their aura, and really powerful ones were red. It was rumoured that Grindlewald had been a dull red, and that Dumbledore was a wine colour. Merlin had of course been a rich purple, as had Morgana. Both Slytherin and Gryffindor had been a light purple, which was surpassed by the deeper tones of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Ron found himself hoping that Harry was at least pink.

They tiptoed up the stairs, despite the fact that Hermione had laid her best silencing charms on Harry's room so as to not disturb him. They tended to argue at the top of their voices, as the friend that had once acted as their referee had been exiled for saving them all. It was a hard habit to break, and out of consideration for Harry they had taken the precaution of erecting the charms. He'd just come down and referee if they didn't and as much as it would feel like old times the man needed his rest.

In the dawn light they could see that Harry was wrapped around the pillow Ron had claimed as 'his', the dark haired man's face pressed deeply into the slip for its scent. The blankets were half off and he had rolled onto his side, facing the door even though he was in the middle of the bed.

"Right where I left him," Ron smiled and Hermione leaned against him for a moment. They stood there, enjoying the sight of Harry sleeping peacefully, no nightmares or pain marring his rest. He'd had atrocious sleeping habits in school, mainly because of Voldemort, and nothing short of a potion could get him to rest some nights. They were lucky that Madam Pomfrey hadn't caught them nicking the potions from her stores, although in sixth year Hermione had started brewing for them instead. It was easier to get ingredients by mail to avoid Snape's notice, and she was confident by that stage that she wouldn't accidentally poison someone.

After a moment Hermione stirred and pulled her wand. The incantation was but a whisper, and Ron held his breath as the spell touched Harry. The sleeping man was enveloped in a shell pink glow, just as Rose had been. Her aura had darkened to pale pink, and Harry's darkened even further. He matched and then surpassed the red tinged pink that Ron and Hermione both showed when the spell was cast on them, and then passed the ruby red claret that Dumbledore was rumoured to be. Hints of purple entered the aura, and Ron gripped Hermione's hand tightly as the pale purple colour settled around Harry like a living cloak, staying steady for the requisite ten seconds before fading entirely.

Harry slept on, totally undisturbed. They had found their Rogue.

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