Halloween of 1981 was a relatively normal day, considering how the country of Britain was embroiled in a secret civil war. Children excitedly dressed up as monsters and fairies and heroes; their parents led them house to house for treats. However, in the sleepy little town of Godric's Hollow, there was one house the children did not stop at, because they could not see it.
It was a small house, barely more than a cottage, but it was comfortable. It was home, at least to two British magical heroes, James and Lily Potter, and their infant son, Harry. They could not participate in the festivities outside, since they were in hiding from a terrifyingly powerful, sadistic man that they knew only as Voldemort. However, that fear didn't stop the two adults from watching with sentimental smiles on their faces as other people's children roamed the town.
They put their son to bed in his crib shortly after the sun set, and poured themselves a small glass of red wine each, toasting the anniversary of their first date. After draining their glasses, the pair went upstairs to their bedroom to celebrate. They had barely begun when a loud noise sounded as their wards were breached.
Harry began to wail, and James and Lily quickly pulled their clothes on and grabbed their magic wands. James dashed downstairs to see what had caused the alarm, while Lily went to calm their son. Then, their worst fear came true as a powerful spell loudly destroyed the front door.
"Lily! Grab Harry and run!" The man shouted from downstairs. "Just ru-!" He fell silent. Lily was crying but she grabbed Harry and moved to Apparate away... only to discover that she could not. Voldemort had managed to raise a ward against it.
Lily placed her still crying son back into his crib, and quickly pulled her wand from her pocket. Loud steps echoed through the building as Voldemort began to climb the stairs.
It was time for Lily's last resort. She pointed her wand at Harry's crib and with a few quick words, she activated a legion of previously invisible small runes, hand carved into the wooden crib. The runes glowed dimly with a sky blue color, then faded away to invisibility.
The door opened, and Lily wheeled around to face Voldemort. She dashed the tears from her eyes, and threw her wand off to the side. "You can't have him, you monster," she said, as bravely as she could manage, though the slight tremble in her voice betrayed her fear.
"You need not die," the monstrosity of a man said, his voice abnormally high pitched and grating, like nails on a chalkboard. His bright red eyes gleamed from his bald, semi-human head, and his humorless grin revealed teeth that were too sharp. "Only allow me to kill the child, and you will live. Defy me, and you both die."
"Never," she spat, the tremble gone as she defiantly glared at the despicable monster. "I will die to protect him."
Voldemort cackled, an insane bent to the humorless noise. "Very well then, die. I applaud your courage, useless though it is. Avada Kedavra." A green light flashed from his wand and enveloped Lily, who collapsed a moment later. Voldemort stepped forward, and raised his wand. Again, he incanted, "Avada Kedavra."
Like before, the green light flashed from his wand, and enveloped the child. This time, however, the now visible runes glowed brightly, sky blue tinged with bright gold. The green light was absorbed into the crib, and a golden emerald explosion was spat back out at Voldemort, whose body was disintegrated in the blast.
The blast also had other effects. The many wards on and over the house failed, and the cottage began a partial collapse. The people outside quite suddenly noticed a house they'd forgotten about in the process of exploding. They ran away, screaming.
A previously unseen figure, wearing a well tailored suit, raised his own wand, and manifested a silvery but transparent shield to protect the poor child from the rubble. He waved his wand and the crib moved to the other side of the room, still surrounded by the mystical shield. After a moment of watching the crib to ensure it was safe and stable, the man vanished the shield and placed his wand up the sleeve of his left arm.
The man pulled a shiny gold pocket watch from a pocket on the inside of his suit coat, and clicked it open. He observed what he saw there for a few moments, then he clicked it closed and slid it back into his pocket. The man then Apparated away. The child would be safe, for now, but the man would continue to watch over and protect Harry Potter, the boy destined to save the world.
Eight year old Harry Potter was a bright boy, according to his teachers. He was an ungrateful freak, according to his uncle. He was target number one, according to the school bullies.
He was ready to give up. He'd tried sports to make his family like him. He'd mastered good manners. He got all A's. None of these had made his aunt and uncle happy.
Right now, however, he was on the run in the roads of Little Whinging from the small gang of bullies led by his cousin Dudley.
Harry was a short and skinny boy, though he had wiry muscle. He had messy black hair and bright green eyes, pale skin, a dorky circular pair of glasses, and a weird scar on his head.
Dudley was big for his age, tall, fat, and very muscular, with a mean streak to match. He had dirty blond hair shaved close to his scalp, and cloudy blue eyes. Despite Dudley's weight, he was quite athletic, and was able to give his cousin a hard chase, and a mean beating.
Harry ran flat out, as fast as he could. He chanced a look back to see how close Dudley was to him, and was grateful to see he was getting further ahead of his cousin/bully. Harry rounded a corner and slammed directly into the legs of a suited man. The man stumbled back a couple of steps, but Harry fell flat on his back, winded.
He clambered to his feet and watched as Dudley's gang rounded the same corner he had and skidded to a collective stop. Harry looked back to the stranger, who held a slightly worn gold pocket watch in his left hand. He clicked the watch closed, and slid it into a pocket inside the black vest of his suit. The stranger glared at the kids with bright purple eyes.
"What's the meaning of this?" He asked, with a smooth and quiet voice.
Even though Harry couldn't hear any anger in the man's voice, he was still scared, so he spoke up. "I'm sorry, sir-" He started, but he was interrupted by the stranger, who raised a hand.
"Not you, son. You." He lowered his hand to point at Dudley. "Explain yourself."
Dudley looked like he was going to wet himself, and his eyes were wide. Meanwhile, his gang turned tail and ran away. "Uh... we were... playing... tag?" He hesitantly responded, not used to having to come up with an excuse.
The purple eyed man practically snarled as he glared back. "It's been a long time since I was a kid, but I seem to recall that in tag, only one person is chasing, not one person running away. Get out of here, or I'll call your parents." Dudley turned and ran, and the stranger turned back to Harry.
The chase over, Harry took a moment to actually look at the man with the black suit and purple eyes. He was of average height and not too big or skinny, and he had tanned skin and long, curly, black hair. The man knelt down so he was on eye level with Harry. "Are you hurt?" He asked.
"I'm fine," Harry replied, blatantly ignoring the large bruise on his cheek. The stranger chuckled, before saying something Harry couldn't understand. The stranger gently touched the bruise on Harry's cheek while saying this. Harry jerked back when he felt a shock.
"What was that?" Harry asked, as the soreness in his cheek vanished.
"Magic," the man replied, with a smirk, as he stood back up.
Harry couldn't help but scoff. "Everyone knows magic isn't real," he protested. "I wish it was, I'd never have to deal with..." he trailed off. He wasn't going to complain about his aunt and uncle to a stranger.
The purple eyed man looked off to the side for a moment, thinking. He clicked his fingers on his left hand then waved that hand, flipping it over so his palm was facing up. A small blue fireball appeared floating above his hand, and he held it out to Harry. "Take it, it won't hurt you," he said.
Harry was stunned, but defaulted to doing what the man said - he'd learned to immediately obey a long time ago from his uncle. He held the flame in his hand, surprised at the fact that the flame was cold. "Magic is real," he whispered in joy as the flame faded from existence. "Can you teach me?" He looked up at the stranger, who nodded.
"I can, but I'm not an easy teacher," he warned. "If you're up to it, I'll see you in the library right after schools let out on Tuesday. I'll be in the tutoring section. I won't be mad if you don't show up, but if that happens, you'll never get another chance to see me."
Harry nodded dumbly, then he suddenly realized he had no idea what the magic man was called. "Wait! What's your name, mister?"
The man nodded. "You can call me... Eamon. What shall I call you?"
"Harry is my name," Harry replied quickly, ecstatic about the idea of magic.
"Nice to meet you, Harry. I'll see you on Tuesday."
That Tuesday came quickly, and Harry rushed to the public library after school let out. He paused to catch his breath in the entryway, then he went into the library proper. As he stepped in, he was awed by just how many books, tables, and people were actually there, as well as by the low noise. He walked over to someone he thought might be a worker in the library, who was stamping the occasional book for people walking out.
"Um, excuse me, ma'am." Harry said quietly.
The lady looked up, and looked around for a moment before noticing the short boy. "Oh!" She exclaimed quietly. "How can I help you?"
Harry smiled and answered, "I was looking for where the tutoring section is. My tutor said to meet him here but I don't know where exactly."
The woman hummed a second. "I didn't notice anybody over there a moment ago, but it's right over there." She pointed to a corner on the other side of the floor. "Good luck!" She said, and Harry nodded and walked to where she pointed.
Once he was in the area the librarian had indicated, Harry almost immediately noticed Eamon sitting at a round wooden table. After all, the suited man with the dark purple eyes stood out like a sore thumb. Eamon was checking his pocket watch, and Harry walked over to Eamon as Eamon pocketed the watch.
"Good afternoon, sir," Harry greeted quietly.
"Ah, excellent, you made it," Eamon replied. "Take a seat." He gestured to the other chair at the table, a black and blue chair made primarily from plastic, and Harry sat in it. As he settled in and made himself comfortable, Eamon continued talking.
"Alright, so before we begin, I must admit that I have never taught the high art to one so young as you, so I imagine that I'll have to start at the very beginning.
"First, we need to discuss magical society. Most mages - that is, people who can wield magic - hide themselves away from those they call 'Muggles,' people who cannot wield magic. Mages didn't seclude themselves until relatively recently, not until the Spanish Inquisition began. Although the Witch Hunts killed far many more munds - the term I use instead of Muggles - than mages, it brought fear and terror upon all mages.
"Any questions so far?" Eamon asked.
"I think so," Harry replied hesitantly. "Mages hide from... uh... mounds... because of the witch hunts. Is that right?"
"The term is munds, but otherwise you are correct," Eamon answered.
"But, wouldn't a mage be able to use magic to escape the hunts?"
"Of course. Mages were rarely killed or even hurt, but they had to keep moving to new areas and eventually chose to settle in towns populated entirely by mages - for their own safety. Sadly, the fewer mages lived near munds, the more munds grew to fear and hate magic, which led to more Hunts, and more separation. It is now illegal for any mage to even risk a mund finding out about magic."
"I guess that makes sense," Harry replied. "Why did you give two names for people without magic?"
"The common European term is Muggle, which is an insult, and one which I refuse to give any credence to. It stems from the idea that a person without magic is not even a person at all."
Harry grimaced. "Oh. That's... not good."
Eamon nodded his head once. "That's why I use the term 'mund.' I shortened it from mundane, which means normal, bland, or boring. It's still not complimentary, but it does at least acknowledge that magic is not the default for humans."
"You mean how most people aren't magic, right?"
"Yes, exactly. Now, so that I know you understand me so far, repeat what I've told you, but in your own words."
"Uh. Okay, so ...munds started the witch hunts, which led to the separation of magical and mundane people, which led to keeping magic a secret. And mages don't even think munds are people."
"Good. Now, to begin on teaching you magic, I need to know where you stand on physics. I know you're young, so your schools likely won't have taught you much, but I have to know where to start you off. Do you know the fundamental forces of physics?"
"Uh, no?" Harry answered weakly.
Eamon sat silently for a few moments, blinking as he processed that. "I see. That is... less than ideal. We will have to begin with the basics on mundane science too."
"Why do I need science? I thought magic didn't work with science." Harry asked.
"No, no, not at all. Both mundane and magical sciences are unaware of the other, and therefore, are currently incompatible. But I have been working to combine the two together, and since you are my apprentice, you will be assisting me, after I get you caught up with my understanding."
Harry nodded, unsure of how to respond.
"Since I wasn't prepared to teach you the basics of mundane science, I expect you to read science textbooks, especially at the higher levels, in your own time. If you need help understanding concepts, I can, of course, help you, but I feel my time with you would be better spent covering the basics of magic.
"So, to continue my lecture on magic, I should explain the methods of casting magic. The general branches of magic are witchcraft, wizardry, and sorcery.
"Witchcraft is done with symbolism, materials, and preparation. It is by far the slowest of the branches of magic, but it has the potential to be the most powerful. With the right materials, symbology, and time, you can pour smaller amounts of mana into the spell for a larger effect that you can use whenever you please.
Wizardry is magic cast with a wand or staff, or other focus. It makes use of motions and words, memorized spells. It's fast and easy and as such, has become the dominant method of casting magic in Europe and large swaths of the other continents as well. You can cast wizardry simply from reading a spell from a book with enough determination in your heart.
"Sorcery is the least known of the fields of magic. Very few sorcerers have been known to history, because sorcery is incredibly difficult. A sorcerer does not need a focus, spells or materials. All that is needed is understanding through study. The better you understand how something works, the easier it becomes to do.
"I am a sorcerer, and if you choose to learn from me, so too, will you be." Eamon paused. At Harry's stupefied look, Eamon gently prodded. "Repeat after me."
"Oh, right! Uh, you explained the different types of magic. Witchcraft, feelings and materials. Wizardry, wands and spells. Sorcery, studying."
"Excellent. I will of course teach you from all three branches, as they all have their uses. Especially because you cannot perform adequate sorcery until you are well versed in both magical and mundane sciences. Until then, only the easiest spells will be within your grasp."
"I understand," Harry replied.
"Now, let's discuss what makes a person or object magical. Since everything can interact with magic, we use a very particular definition of magical.
"There are three criteria something must meet to be magical - a place to store magic, a way to absorb it, and a way to release it.
"For mages, that's a magical core, and magical channels, also known as mana veins and arteries. The larger your core, the more mana you can hold.
"Most mages have two large mana veins, in the hands or arms, though they can have more small ones scattered across their body. Each vein can hold a different spell if you can concentrate on them properly, and will get larger with practice. The more mana veins you have, the more spells you can hold simultaneously. The larger mana veins you have, the more powerful a spell you can cast from that vein.
"Most mages have a lot of mana arteries, typically very small. It usually takes eight hours for the average mage to completely fill their core. With certain practices, your mana arteries can grow, and you get more as you physically grow."
Eamon paused, and realizing what he wanted, Harry began to summarize. "Three parts to be magic, the core, the mana veins and arteries. A couple large veins, and a lot of small arteries, and both can be made larger with practice." He looked to Eamon, who smiled encouragingly. "I have a question. What about a focus like you were talking about earlier?"
"Great question! Foci are tools that make magic casting easier, but they don't fill the role of any of the three components. They help you shape a mana weave, which becomes a spell once complete."
"What's a mana weave?"
"Ah, while you're pouring magic out but before it takes on an effect, it is not yet a spell. Mages with mage sight describe the act of casting a spell as visually similar to knitting or sewing, hence the name 'mana weave.' Foci are useful because they don't let the mana escape until they form or fail a spell. If the focus is properly paired with the caster, the mana from a failed spell is even returned to the core of the caster. They are incredibly useful tools, even for a sorcerer who does not necessarily need one."
Embarrassed to ask another question, but curious nonetheless, Harry asked, "Uh, what's mage sight?"
Even though Harry felt awkward asking, Eamon seemed delighted to answer. "Mage sight is the ability to see mana in the world, as well as the auras of others. Some people are born with mage sight, always seeing the mana flow in the world. Still others can learn how to use mage sight, though it leads to headaches more often than not. However, the vast majority of mages are utterly incapable of using mage sight at all."
"Can I learn how to use mage sight, then?" Harry asked ecstatically.
Eamon paused. "I can try to teach you, but there's no guarantee you are able to learn that. Something you can learn, however, is something i recommend you learn. I won't require it, but you may find it useful to learn a foreign language. As many as you can, but one at a time."
Eamon pulled out his watch, clicked it open, and stared at the face for a moment, then clicked it closed. He hummed while he slid it back into his suit pocket, then said, "It seems our time for today has run out. I'll see you again, here, at the same time on Friday. In the meantime, decide which language you'd like to begin learning, if any."
A/N: So, I am making a few fundamental alterations to the story here, such as slightly nerfing sorcery and more rigorously defining the branches of magic. I'm making a lot more cosmetic changes, hopefully improving the experience of the reader. For continuing fans, I'd appreciate your feedback and critiques for further improvement. However, don't worry - no scene will ever be as ridiculously information dense in the rest of the story. I just couldn't figure out a good way to split it up or continue without saying it, so it's just an introductory lecture now.