Chapter 7

For the days after, Harrys life was better than expected. It was by no means good, far from it, but it seemed that even Vernon's twisted little mind couldn't believe he had gone that far. He would glance at Harry from time to time and look slightly ill, and so for a while afterwards Harry wasn't 'punished'. He knew that the reprieve wouldn't last, but he doubted it would ever be that bad again. He hoped it wouldn't, he still felt the ghost of a leather belt every time he thought about it.

He had agonised for a few days after hugging Olivia, hoping she wouldn't mind. It had just happened. He had started thinking about her in much the same way he used to do about his mother, but it was slightly different. This felt stronger almost. His mother had just had him. Olivia had seen who he was and then actually chosen him.

Truth be told, he didn't remember that much of his mother before Jack was born, but in what he did she acted a lot like Olivia did. They had the same look in their eyes when they saw him. After Jack was born she spent most of her time looking after him, and after they went into hiding she seemed to never leave Jack alone for more than a minute. While they still made time for him, it wasn't as much as he would have liked and both his parents always seemed really worried about Jack. He had assumed Jack was sick. But now he had Olivia, he had started to delight in the attention she gave him.

When he had gone back, he had been reminiscent of the first time he had met them: shy and unsure of himself. That hadn't lasted long though, because Olivia had walked right up to him and hugged him, before acting exactly as she always did. That was when, in his heart, he had truly found a new family. Shortly after Malcolm started instructing him in basic hand to hand combat, just as he had for all the others. Harry was only little so there wasn't really much point, but Malcom didn't want anyone to feel vulnerable or ever be defenceless, so he did what he could to prevent it. The feeling of helplessness was an intensely painful one, but it was one that could be shield against by power. Even the illusion of power could work. They couldn't do much because of his age and size, but Malcolm taught him all he knew that Harry was able to do. They developed a bond during their short sessions and Harry starting to consider him an uncle, similar to how he always thought of Remus. He would never think of Vernon as an uncle. Uncle implied family, and he was not that.

Inside, Harry was far from the boy who had arrived at Privet Drive. His already slightly introverted personality had deepened, and now he didn't speak when he was in that house. The Dursleys preferred his silence anyway. The pain and the fear he had felt had changed too, fading and fading until it was a mere memory. What did he have to fear now? He had survived everything. Anger, however, was still very much present, only it had now grown into more than just that. Hate. He hated the Dursleys more than anything.

Life at the Dursleys had finally reached a level at which it stayed. They didn't care where he was as long as he did his chores, which had become slightly more manageable, and they got their food on time. He had learnt what he could and couldn't get away with by now, so he wasn't punished anymore unless he messed up badly or Vernon was angry. It still happened from time to time, but it wasn't to the extent it had been before that night Vernon had lost control.

So Harry had started spending several nights a week with Olivia and the others, mainly Friday and Saturday nights when the Dursleys would have a lay in and he didn't have school so he wouldn't need to make breakfast as early. Petunia knew, though she didn't know where he went, and would open the door at certain times and he would go in, make the food and leave again. It was a good arrangement for all involved; neither had to see the other for longer than absolutely necessary.

He had thought about just leaving the Dursleys, but even though he hated it there he couldn't bring himself to leave for good. All his life he had had a house to live in and he was scared of suddenly giving that up. He was pretty sure they wouldn't care that much, although he wasn't completely sure. He had seen how the people in the neighbourhood had become more friendly to the Dursleys as time went on and it took him a while to come up with why: him. They had told everyone he was the criminal child of useless drunks that they had taken him in out of the goodness of their hearts, and who they continued to 'care' for even when he was trying to steal from them. He was their way of showing how much better they were than everyone else, what a caring and respectable family they were. Obviously that couldn't be further from the truth; they certainly weren't kind or respectable, and he had never seen any genuine affection between Vernon and Petunia so he doubted the word family could be applied either. He wondered if they had bonded over their shared malice and hatred of everything that wasn't 'normal'.

As it was summer, sometimes he and Olivia would go out to the close by field and watch the stars for a while, or she would tell him the stories her mother had told her when she was younger and he would tell her the stories he remembered from his book, the one he had been given by the Tonks before he was sent here. They grew closer and closer, as did Harry and all the others. Now, if given the choice between staying here with Olivia but enduring the Dursleys, or going home with his parents and never seeing the Dursleys or Olivia again, Harry wasn't sure which he would pick.

His feelings towards Sirius and Nymphadora were far more complex, and even he wasn't completely sure what it was he felt. He was closer to them than anyone else, and it hurt more than anything that they had left him there, without a visit or even a letter. Even in his head he now refused to call her Nymmie. That was the name he had for his best friend, and she would never leave him like that. He was sure Sirius would have come for him, but he hadn't. Not even a letter. He hated the fact they never came for him, even if he couldn't force himself to stoop caring for them, but now he had Olivia and the rest of his new 'family'. They were more than enough.

~Scene Change~

A week later, Harry sat in his cupboard late at night shivering slightly in the November chill, carefully formulating his plan for the morning. He was hungry, as was everyone else he cared about, and in order to rectify that he needed money. All animals have their routines and the Dursleys were no different. Vernon always left his wallet on the side in the kitchen during the mornings, a fact Dudley took advantage of consistently. He would always switch the news on while he stretched his fat frame to the limits in order to tie his shoes, normally muttering something racist under his breath towards the TV, while the sofa groaned underneath him. Dudley would whine about something and Petunia would rush to find out what her precious Dudders wanted. The biggest problem would be if he was whining about food, which was quite likely. That would mean Petunia would go straight to the kitchen and see him with his hand in Vernon's wallet.

It would be so much easier if he could just do it now, everyone was asleep so he wouldn't be caught and the wallet was in the exact same place. Unfortunately, the Dursleys never forgot to lock him in. He had tried the lock each night hoping they would have forgotten, but not once had his cell been left unbolted. If only he could unlock it but the locks were on the other side of the door. Magic would work, but he needed a wand for that. He had never seen anyone do any magic without one and all the books he had read before being sent away talked about wand movements so surely he couldn't do it without a wand.

It was worth a try though, he thought. He desperately didn't want to have to do it in the morning; the consequences of getting caught would be awful! So, turning in the darkness to where he knew the door was, he focused entirely on opening the door. He concentrated entirely on the sound of the bolt being slid back, of the clack of the latch and the creak of the door as it swung open. The sight of slivers of moonlight illuminating the dull carpet and the family photos, none of which he was in. He had closed his eyes at some point, and only opened them when a creak pierced the stillness of the night. He had done it!

Silently, he scampered out of the little cupboard and crept down the hall towards the kitchen. The door opened soundlessly and he was for once thankful for Petunia's obsessive cleaning. After all, any respectable family with creaky doors must not be respectable at all. The wallet sat on the counter, practically bulging. Vernon always kept it stuffed with notes in order to showcase his superiority over everyone else, and Harry sifted through them quickly. Moving past the £50 notes – that would be far too obvious – he took a few £10 notes and a couple of £5 notes as well before returning to his cupboard.

He suddenly realised with a flash of panic that he would have to relock the door to his cupboard too. They would surely notice if it was unlocked. So, again, he concentrated his entire being on locking the door once more, and it did. Harry collapsed on his near non-existent mattress and let out a sigh of relief before he stuffed the notes into a small alcove in the wall. As his adrenaline burned itself out, he thought about his use of magic. Clearly he could do it without a wand if he concentrated. He wasn't sure if that was normal, but he hoped it wasn't. He rather liked the idea of being able to do what nobody else could. This opened up a whole realm of possibilities and opportunities! He remembered his parents summoning things across a room, maybe he could do that?

He really wanted to tell Olivia, to show her what he could do, but he knew he wasn't allowed. His parents had made it very clear during their trips to the muggle world that they weren't to talk about magic at all. But Olivia wasn't just any old muggle, so maybe he could bend the rules. Nobody would ever know. He would only show her though - no one else - and not until he knew exactly what he could do.

~Scene Change~

As expected, Vernon noticed nothing amiss the next morning, and a few days later he handed the money to Olivia despite her protests. She would know what was needed, and he couldn't go into a shop and buy anything without it reaching the Dursleys.

From then on he tried to practise his magic as much as he could when he was shut in his cupboard. But he couldn't do anything, not even unlock the door again, no matter how much he concentrated. It made no sense, he was doing exactly as he had before! After a few days of his frustration steadily growing he lost control of his tightly restrained emotions for once, and the pencil he had been trying to float flew up and embedded tip first into the underside of the stairs.

His eyes were wide in awe and confusion. Why had it worked now and not before? He didn't understand it. He decided he would keep practising until he worked out what the reason was.

He would take some money from Vernon's wallet once or maybe twice a week, never enough that it could be easily noticed. As more time went on and there was never even a whisper of suspicion, he found it harder and harder to get his door to unlock.

One night a month and a half after his first use of magic, after another night of fruitless attempts, he finally figured out what the common thread was between all the times it had worked. He had been desperate, or angry or fearful. It must have something to do with his emotions. Could he only do it when he felt like that? Or maybe, now that he knew, he could practise and then he could do it whenever he wanted? Harry wasn't sure, but he could try some more. He had worked on what he called his 'blank mind' using books about something called meditation he had been given by one of librarians. The poses seemed to help a little, even if he thought they looked stupid.

He found that the exercises in the book helped him keep calm, but he had also found that he could remember things more easily now which would come in handy making himself emotional next time he tried magic. The book hadn't said anything about that, but maybe it was a magical thing. Or maybe he was just lucky, he thought. He had also started to feel something inside him ebbing and flowing like the tide when he really tried, and he had felt it once or twice when he was practising magic too. He supposed it was his magic he could feel, a thought that excited him no end.

Each night, he would practise unlocking and relocking the door to his cupboard. That was something he was absolutely sure he could do, whereas when he had tried to float things they had either done nothing or shot through the air like a bullet from a gun. He had started by making himself angry on purpose, but then the door would jerk open violently. The first time he had done it the door had smashed into the wall loudly, and he had frantically dragged it closed and relocked it before Vernon came thundering downstairs, who had assumed it was something in the garden once he saw that the freaks door was still locked. Harry had gotten lucky, and for the next week he didn't try again.

Next he had tried making himself scared, and that had worked much better. After several weeks of experimenting he decided that being desperate worked best, but was much harder to force himself to feel. Once or twice he had managed to do it without any strong emotion, but it had taken several minutes of all his concentration. Not particularly helpful. But before he couldn't do it without no matter how hard he concentrated, so it was getting easier. He figured if he kept practising he would be able to unlock and lock his door whenever he wanted fairly soon.

He didn't like the wait – it would take a long time just to learn one thing – but he didn't have much choice. And besides, once he could do it then he could start doing more magic. He could float stuff and make fire and give Dudley a tail – the cooler things. He wouldn't actually give Dudley a tail, he would get caught if he did that, but it was fun to imagine. But floating stuff, making light late at night - that wouldn't be too risky. Fire would have to be done outside, he didn't want to burn the house down, but he would find a place. Once he could summon things maybe he would be able to get things for Olivia and the others. Wallets and phones from people's pockets, watches from their wrists. That sort of thing.

Plus, the sooner he could do magic whenever he wanted the sooner he could show Olivia. He really wanted to show her, and he was only slightly worried what her reaction might be to finding out magic was real. He knew it wouldn't scare her away, so it would be okay. He knew he wasn't supposed to but the words of his parents were starting to lose their effect on him. After so long here his moral compass had changed.

And so the time flowed along in a constant flux of boredom and excitement. School was boring as always; he still had to do worse than Dudley so he had to pretend not know anything, when in fact he was reading ahead every break time in the school library to avoid Dudley and his gang. He thought it would actually be easier to beat Dudley than do worse than him. But the excitement of being able to practise magic later always keep him going, as did the constant anticipation for each Friday evening when he could leave the Dursleys for the weekend.

As he thought it would, magic became easier the more he tried it. It had gotten to the point where he barely had to concentrate to unlock the door, and he could almost feel his magic flowing through his body. He had started pumping it to where he was injured on the occasions where he 'earned' himself a punishment, and then it would heal much, much quicker than it should. He didn't do that often, otherwise the Dursleys would notice. He had also started trying to do things other than locking and unlocking, and they had worked fairly well. Not as well as the door, but then he hadn't practised it as much. He could float a pencil quite easily, though he had to concentrate to keep it at a certain height, but he struggled to float the heavy paint can at first. Obviously heavier things would be harder, but he had been a bit annoyed. Floating a pencil was pretty pointless after all.

Making light he found even harder though. He had spent hours trying to make a ball of light appear above his hand, but had only managed to make a few of his fingers glow slightly. Now he could make his fingers glow a lot more brightly, which was pretty cool, but it didn't light up much. He still wanted the make a light ball though. He had yet to try anything else, but he wanted to have mastered the things he was already trying first. That way when he tried to do the harder things later, it should be easier. At least, he hoped it would be.

By this point winter had retreated and spring well into its cycle, the buds beginning to blossom and the sun making frequent appearances from behind the clouds after its hibernation, and Harry had finally decided to leave the Dursleys. He would be happier away from them, so he had convinced himself to go and just taken the few clothes he had and walked out. For the first few days after he left he didn't leave the warehouse for fear of them finding him and dragging him back so they could keep their caring image, but they didn't. Obviously he couldn't go to school anymore – running away and then going to the same place Dudley would be was a monumentally stupid idea – but that wasn't a big loss. He was already quite a long way ahead and he was learning magic, so learning maths just didn't seem as important. It did mean he couldn't take money off Vernon anymore, but Olivia had said they would be fine without it. Annoyingly, she also insisted on teaching him the stuff he would have otherwise learned at school.

Staying with Olivia full time was infinitely better than the Dursleys; no shouting, no pain, none of the constant unease he felt there. Here everyone was kind to him, he didn't have to work himself like a house elf and he didn't have to hide himself. The only downside was that he had less time to practice magic, but that was fine when compared to the advantages. There were a few rooms at the back – presumably they used to be offices and storage rooms – that were boarded up and used as places to go when anyone got depressed or angry or just wanted to be alone. They weren't used all that much, everyone was far too friendly with each other for that, so they provided a perfect place to practice.

~Scene Change~

Finally! It was now April, a full four months after he had discovered his use of magic, and he could at last create light. A glowing sphere of light hovered above his flattened palm, and he had to resist the urge to whoop with joy. Yes, it flickered slightly if his concentration wavered, but it worked! The sphere was a little wider than his palm and gave off a soft light that was neither too bright nor too dim, gently illuminating every corner of the room. He would practise it for until it no longer flickered, but now he knew he could do it he would start on summoning. That would be helpful, though not as cool as turning Dudley into a dog or something. He wondered if Dudley would stay as fat if he did that, and spent a few moments thinking of all the things he wanted to turn Dudley into. That seemed a lot harder to do, unfortunately.

Once he could do summoning easily, then he would show Olivia. He was still nervous about doing something that had been so highly stressed he shouldn't do, but it was his parents who had told him that so he didn't really care if he shouldn't, he just didn't want to get caught. If it was so important not to, did they have some way to tell if someone did it? A brief flash of panic washed over him at that thought, before he decided they couldn't have. If they could tell when and where someone did it, they could just go and fix it and it wouldn't be such a big deal. Satisfied with his somewhat flawed reasoning, Harry moved that thought into the 'dealt with' section of his mind and relaxed.

It took him another 2 months to master summoning, but it wasn't completely due to it being any more difficult. He didn't want to use the warehouse because someone would hear him if he didn't catch what he summoned, and things flying across the room was more likely to be noticed than making light in an already light room. He couldn't use anywhere in the neighbourhood, so he had to find somewhere else. It had taken a while, but in the end he had used a clearing about 25 minutes' walk into the nearby woods and taken different sized things to summon with him in his bag. He was lucky it was moving into summer when he was learning it; doing it in the winter would have been impossible.

As it was he found it much more difficult to concentrate on what he was doing, constantly on edge that he would be found. He still couldn't summon really large items like logs, but he decided that as he could summon smaller things pretty easily, it wasn't too much of a problem. Maybe it was just because he was still small. He had also started learning to learn to make fire, but had switched that to making water once he decided fire in the woods wasn't that smart.

But now that he could do it, he was running out of excuses to push off telling Olivia. For all his certainty that everything would turn out okay – that he wouldn't get in trouble, that she wouldn't freak out – he was still telling her that magic was real and he was a wizard. Even he could see the problems with that. Steeling himself, he decided he would tell her the night after, that way he didn't have any time to convince himself not to.

~Scene Change~

The entirety of the next day Harry was far more quiet than usual and no one could snap him out of it, his nerves causing him to draw into himself. He hadn't been this nervous since after he hugged Olivia for the first time, but that turned out fine so surely this would too? At least he hoped it would, this was a bit bigger than that. His magic was responding to his emotions and fluctuating constantly, so he spent a lot of the day away from the others letting it out so it didn't erupt when he tried to use it later.

The day seemed to drag at times when he would get his nervousness under control and his excitement would come to the foreground but would then fly by as soon as he started thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. By the time the sun ducked below the horizon, he was seriously considering not telling her. Nothing could go wrong that way.

But the moment he emerged from his isolation and saw everyone, he decided he really didn't want to have to keep secrets from her anymore. Once she knew about magic, he could tell her everything. About flying and quidditch and dragons and Voldemort and his entire life before now. He didn't want to lie to her anymore.

Olivia had been looking at him worriedly all day, it wasn't usual for him to be so quiet since he left his 'family' for good. When he shuffled over she bent down and hugged him, whispering in his ear as she did so.

"You okay, little guy?"

"Can I show you something?" he whispered back.

"Sure," she replied, though some concern leaked into her voice. The look she sent over her shoulder as she led him away made it clear that no one was to disturb them for any reason, though she had no idea what he could be distressed about.

Harry lead her to the same room he had spent most of the day hiding in; the walls were mouldy and damp, the plaster could be seen in places and there was a puddle in the corner where the ceiling had leaked, but the windows had been boarded up so no one could see in, so it was all he needed. A few rickety chairs were scattered around the room, and Harry hopped onto one, his legs swinging in agitation.

"What did you want to show me?"

Harry had thought a lot about how to tell her. Should he just come out with it, or tell her about his parents first? In the end, he figured it was best just to show her and then explain it. Opening his palm flat, he concentrated on creating a ball of light hovering above his palm. Almost instantly it appeared, glowing brightly without a flicker in sight. Olivia gasped loudly and he levitated a metal can that was lying in the corner, wanting to put off the questions a little longer. That would mean talking about his parents and that still hurt.

Allowing it to drop after a few seconds, Harry lifted his eyes from his lap where they had lowered and looked at Olivia, who had a look of absolute shock plastered across her face. He gave a nervous smile, hoping she would break the silence.

After a few moments to get her gaping mouth under control, Olivia finally spoke.

"How the hell can you do that?" she whispered, still half stunned.

"Magic."

She just stared at him disbelievingly, so he hurried to explain. He didn't want her to get a chance to freak out.

"My parents are too," he added quickly, "so is Sirius and my brother and Nymphadora and Andi and everyone else I told you about."

"I'm having a really weird dream, that's the only possible explanation. Am I going insane?" She muttered to herself. This was ridiculous. But one look at Harry told her he was completely serious, so she took a deep breath before she spoke again.

"So there's an entire community of wizards, and no one knows about it?" Her voice had taken on a hint of madness at the thought of there being thousands of actual wizards and that magic was real, something that Harry missed in his nervousness.

"Uh huh, there's loads. Not just here either, there's loads in other countries too I think."

"Alright, let's just start at the beginning. Tell me everything." As she said this, Olivia had the thought that this was going to be a very long night.

As it turned out, very long would be the understatement of the century. He had started as far back as he could remember, and had spent a while telling her all about Sirius and Nymphadora. She nearly didn't believe him when he said she could change her appearance at will, but after being told magic is real the chances of her not believing something were slim. She had been horrified when he told her about the Death Eaters and that they attacked 'muggles' as he had called non magical people, and while he didn't know a lot about what they did beyond causing chaos, she could imagine exactly what evil men with power over women would do. She shivered involuntarily when she thought of it.

When he had gotten to having to go into hiding for safety, she had been emotionally exhausted but still felt terrible when she saw the look on her face. She could only imagine how hard it must have been for a kid to be completely isolated, especially given how he had talked about Nymphadora all those months ago.

That was another thing she had noticed; whenever he talked about his parents he would sound resentful, the slightest hint of contempt colouring his voice; when he talked about Sirius or Nymphadora his tone would have an undercurrent of bitterness to it and he would try and skim over them as much as he could, as if he was desperate not to talk about them. She understood from what he had said about why he was here why he could feel that way, but was still surprised by the way he spoke about the latter two. When he had first talked about them his voice had held longing and deep affection, so different to now.

But when he had told of the night Voldemort had attacked his home, even her frazzled mind ignited with fear and anger. Harry had almost been killed. She might have never met him, never knew such a wonderful boy. He could have been taken from her before she even had him. He and his brother were children, and yet this monster had attacked them! That caused a flash of confusion to appear in her mind; why go after children when you are fighting a war? And no one knew how he died, or if he even had? How could they not know?

The year following the attack wasn't so bad, but Harry became increasingly sad and angry as it went on. His brother had been famous, credited with defeating the Dark Lord. That sounded stupid to her. First, he was a child - the idea of him defeating a Dark Wizard that no adult wizard had come close to beating was pretty ridiculous even for wizards. Second, Harry was there too and as no one actually knew what happened according to Harry, why was it just his brother? Surely Harry would get just as much credit, if not more because he was older? It made no sense.

But Harry wasn't bothered with the credit that much, he didn't have to hide away anymore. Although he said his parents paid more attention to his brother than before, she could read between the lines and tell it wasn't that much. He was just happy being able to see people again. All of a sudden his parents started paying a lot of attention to him, and he had assumed that they had realised what they were doing and wanted to make up for it, only to send him away. There was a look of abject heartbreak when he said this, and he finally broke down in tears. His final choked question made her heart break and eyes water.

"Why didn't they want me?"

For all his emotional control and advanced maturity he was still a child whose parents had given him up and sent him to the worst place imaginable, and none of the people he had loved had come to save him. It would break any child in so many ways; Harry just hid his cracks better than most. She knew, though, that if he met Sirius or Nymphadora now, they would barely recognise him.

She didn't know what to say to that, couldn't fathom any reason why his parents would send him away, especially given how much she cared for him. So she just made do with holding him a little bit tighter, his tears soaking through the faded fabric of her shirt. He was asleep shortly after, the night having clearly even more exhausting for him than it had for her.

Scooping his skinny frame up, she carried him out to 'their' spot and settled him in, giving her best attempt at a reassuring look to the others when they looked at them in concern. As she slid in next to Harry who shifted and curled into her as he always did, she allowed a smile to form on her face before she desperately tried to calm her thoughts. Magic was real. Were dragons and flying broomsticks real as well? Did they have TV? Where did they learn to do magic? He hadn't said, but then they hadn't really talked about what it was like except what his life was like up to this point. She would have to ask him in the morning, there must be so much in the wizarding world that wasn't in the normal one. Her dreams that night were filled with wrinkled witches and bubbling potions, dragons breathing fire and, most of all, Harry waving around a magic wand.

~Scene Change~

Waking up the next morning, Olivia again tried to decide if last night was just a dream. Magic still seemed like a childish fantasy, but the sight of Harry still in the same clothes told her it was completely real. Having got the shock out of the way last night, she allowed herself to get excited by the idea of magic and got pulled into all the fairytales and stories of wizards and witches. Imagine what you could do with it! Was there really anything you couldn't do, it was magic after all? Were there any rules? She seriously doubted Harry knew a lot, he was only 5 when he got sent here, but he would know more than her. Could he do anything else? So far she had seen him make a glowing ball of light and levitate things, but what else was there? Could all kids his age do what he could? Her mind was a whirlwind of questions and possibilities that constantly grew until Harry slowly awoke, groaning all the way. It was one of the few times he acted his age, and it always brought a smile to her face.

When his brain caught up with his body and he looked up and saw her, his nerves made a momentary return before a faintly embarrassed blush spread across his cheeks, obviously about his break down the night before.

"Don't worry about it, little guy. We'll talk more later, okay?"

His response was a happy nod, before he shuffled back and sighed contentedly. Clearly a weight had been taken off his shoulders now that he no longer had to keep secrets from her. As much as she wanted to go off and ask him questions right now, she knew that it would draw concerned looks. Going straight away would make whatever they thought it was seem especially bad and they would eventually reach their limit and start asking questions. She wasn't the only one who cared about Harry, after all. She didn't want to have to lie to those she considered family though, and knowing them they'd probably know she was lying anyway.

For Harry it was the best morning he had had in a long time after finally telling her about magic, the nervousness of the past few days completely forgotten. Now he could talk to her about everything that had ever happened to him and everything he knew, instead of having to limit himself to the past few years. For Olivia, the morning crawled by at a torturous pace. She had so many questions! Her imagination was whirring constantly, creating scene after scene. By the time she decided that they could finally go off on their own her head was starting to pound, and they hadn't even got to the questions yet.

Harry jumped up onto the same chair he had the night before, his legs swinging as they had before, though this time in excitement instead of nervousness. He could talk about magic again! He could show her what he could do and tell her all the bits he'd had to cut out of the stories he had told her. This was going to awesome!

As expected, the day had been a constant series of shocks, surprises and unbelievable stories for Olivia. When he had told her about horse riding, he had really been flying a hippogriff. He had told her about quidditch, and she inwardly marvelled at the magical world's obsession with flying and their complete disregard for safety.

Dragons and unicorns were real. She really shouldn't have been surprised.

For the next few weeks, they would wander off and he would tell her as much as he could about the magical world, which was a lot considering how old he was when he left it. Turned out he read a lot and learned to do so far younger than normal kids did. She assumed that was normal for magical children though. They hadn't even got onto what he could do yet.

Beyond light and levitation, Harry could summon things towards him, unlock and lock doors, even produce water if he concentrated, though not much. It wasn't a huge amount of spells, but she had been shocked when he had said he didn't think most wizards and witches could do anything without a wand. They were witches and wizards, surely they could do magic themselves. What was so important about a wand? How did they know if someone was magical then? If someone gave her a wand could she do it? Harry had no idea, but she wanted to get a hold of a wand to find out.

He had told her about the healing as well, and she was concerned by the fact that he had been being abused badly enough for him to need to do it frequently. Especially given the injuries he used to come to them with that caused him to limp or wince in pain when he moved. If that wasn't bad enough to warrant healing himself, how bad was it? She had asked him, and he had said it was never as bad as when he had passed out injured in her arms before swiftly moving the topic back to magic, clearly very uncomfortable. She had let him, just to get the dead, empty expression that appeared every time his 'family' came up off his face.

He couldn't decide what to learn next – he had tried to transform a stick into a knife but couldn't do it no matter how hard he tried, so said he needed something easier first. He had mentioned he had started learning to make fire, so they decided he would learn that considering how useful it could be. Then they thought he could learn to fix rips in clothes, that certainly would be useful, and after that they would make it up as they went along. Olivia's imagination was running wild thinking of magic spells, but most of them sounded too difficult or were just ridiculous.

When they weren't talking about magic, life between Olivia and Harry was pretty much the same as it had been before. They had become even closer, by the removal of the secret that Harry was constantly having to hide, a difficult thing in and of itself, but other than that nothing changed; Harry continued to become ever so slightly more open day by day, Olivia and everyone else still told him stories and Harry still practised his magic.

The weeks and months rolled by much like that until Christmas finally rolled around, and the group got creative for Harry's present. They may not have much but they still wanted to get him something. Christmas was for children and they doubted he had much of one for the past few years. They had bought a disposable camera and had the pictures developed at the local drugstore; a picture of all of them when he was away practising magic, and they had taken a few shots of him and Olivia when they weren't looking. He had loved them.

By the beginning of summer, Harry had learnt a lot more magic; as he had hoped all those months ago in his cupboard, magic became easier to learn the more he used it. Since telling Olivia about magic, he had learnt to make fire, to fix tears in clothes, shrink things and make them bigger again, and to push things away from him. That was the easiest to learn and had barely taken 3 hours for him to do it – it was the opposite of summoning after all, and he could already do that.