I don't own Harry Potter.
…
At that moment Ron returned, levitating trays of food. They all agreed to hold off explanations of what had happened until after they'd eaten.
But after their stomachs had been filled and Harry was feeling much more energetic, they sat down to do some serious talking.
Harry started. He told them about what he had experienced: first the tingling, then the pulsing magic, the milky wall. He described his wonder, his exhilaration at seeing his magic, at feeling himself get swept up in it as it carried him to his core. Finally he reached the point where he touched his magic and tried to summarize the multitude of emotions he had felt – and the pain.
When he had finished, his friends' eyes were slightly glazed as if their minds were a million miles away, trying to imagine such and experience happening to them.
"But now I want an explanation. You can't say I was glowing and then not tell me about it!" Harry signed animatedly.
"It was the weirdest thing, mate," Ron said, snapping out of his pensive mood first. "First you were shivering, and then you lurched back and gasped. After a while your eyes snapped open…"
"And they were glowing!" Ginny finished.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked confusedly. How was it even possible?
"It was like your eyes were projecting bright green light, Harry. They were filled with it," Hermione explained.
"And then the rest of your body started it!" Ron added.
"So…my skin was glowing green," Harry summarized.
"Not exactly. It was more like you had this green mist around you," Ginny admitted.
"I think that when you touched your core, Harry, that was when your eyes started glowing. Then when your magic actually settled, and accepted the link, I think that was when the aura appeared," Hermione said.
"But why?" Harry asked.
"Well, all the books say that when you connect directly with your magical core, your magical power increases. Maybe, some of that power sort of leaked out, causing the aura," Hermione guessed. Her expression was one of deep concentration.
"What about that barrier? What was it? None of the books said anything about it," Harry asked, remembering the barrier that had prompted such painful memories to surface.
"I honestly have no idea. But…"
"You'll find it in the library?" Harry asked hopefully. Hermione smirked.
"You will find it in the library," Hermione corrected. "With all your new power you can certainly read a few books."
If Harry could have groaned, he would have. How would he identify a nameless filmy wall around his magical core? And amongst all the books in the library!
He let out a loud blast of air and threw himself in mock despair against the back of the couch, adopting a sulky expression. His friends chuckled at his antics.
"Don't look so sullen. We'll help you," Hermione laughed.
"Who said anything about 'we?'" Ron protested. Hermione ignored him.
"We'll start by looking at books on the magic of a wizard. How it acts, how it can be altered," Hermione began. Ron was already looking overwhelmed.
"If that doesn't work then we'll look at what makes a witch or wizard powerful or weak. You said that when the barrier broke you felt as if the magic coming from you core increased," Hermione rambled.
"And I even feel more powerful now, as if there is more magic for me to call on. Is that normal?" Harry inquired.
"I don't think so; there have been no other accounts of an actual feeling of more power," Hermione mused.
"What would cause that, then?" Harry suddenly remembered the day in the summer, when he had been practicing silent magic. That petrificus totatus…it had been accompanied by the feeling that something had given way, hadn't it? Maybe it was related?
"Remember that petrifying spell that was so powerful over the summer? Remember I told you I thought I felt something give way? Maybe it's related to this wall?" Harry suggested.
"Brilliant, Harry! I'll bet it is!" Hermione exclaimed, bouncing in excitement.
"I don't get it," Ron said blankly.
"The only thing that I can think of that holds back magic is a magical block. You must have somehow had one!" Hermione guessed.
"Aren't those usually induced by a powerful spell, or by some sort of mental condition?" Ginny asked.
"Not you too!" Ron exclaimed, looking at his sister in horror.
"Yes, they are. Harry, do you remember anyone ever casting a complex spell on you?" Hermione asked, completely serious.
"No, but I've been unconscious enough times for someone to do it. Or it could have been done when I was too young to remember it."
"Couldn't you use your Occlumency to find if there is any memory like that?" Ginny asked. Harry nodded.
Quickly he skimmed through his memories, looking for anyone casting some sort of spell on him.
"Nothing. But again, I wouldn't remember it if I was unconscious." Harry signed.
"Or you had some sort of mental problem," Hermione pointed out.
"I'm not crazy!" Harry protested.
"I'm not saying you are. When I said 'mental problem' I meant that something in the way you were thinking was preventing all of your magic from coming through," Hermione explained.
"Like what?" asked Harry curiously.
"I don't know, that's what we'll have to find out."
"So are you going to try some wandless magic or not?" Ron butted in, tired of the academic conversation.
"I'll try, but don't expect anything." Harry signed. He took a deep breath before pulling a feather from his book bag and resting it on the table in front of him.
He concentrated. He focused all his will on lifting the feather, even if it was just an inch, from the table. But no success.
Harry slumped back on the couch and scowled darkly at the feather.
"It will take some more practice, Harry." Ginny soothed.
"How much more?" Harry asked dejectedly. Ginny took on an encouraging tone.
"You'll do it eventually. No one has ever mastered wandless magic overnight. Few even master silent magic, which you've already done. You'll do it. It will just take some time."
…
A week later Harry still hadn't made progress, and they hadn't discovered what had been causing the milky barrier. He was thoroughly frustrated.
He could feel his magic, wasn't that supposed to help him use it? Connecting with his magical core should have unlocked power. But, even though he could feel his magical core pulsing through him with barely contained power, nothing had changed.
"I must be doing something wrong," Harry signed, frustrated, to Ron. They were up in the dorm, and Harry was waiting for Ron to be ready to head down to breakfast.
"Well I don't know anything about it, mate."
Harry let out a huff of air and fell back onto his mattress.
"But…since you've got this connection, don't you think you should be using it somehow?" Ron asked. Harry bolted upright.
"Genius!" He exclaimed in Parseltongue.
"What?" Ron asked.
"That's brilliant, Ron!" Harry signed wildly, the equivalent of a shout.
"Why?"
"Of course. It doesn't matter if I can feel my magic; I have to take advantage of it! Otherwise, I'm not doing anything different from before I connected!" Harry signed, jumping up and aiming a hand, palm out, at the blasted feather.
"Oh…yeah, that makes sense," Ron agreed.
Harry tried to push away his excitement and focus. He felt his magic coursing through him, ready to be molded to the purpose set by Harry's mind. Harry tried to harness his magic, grab onto a bit of it, and push it down his extended arm and out through his hand with the single purpose of lifting the feather. He felt it surging, moving…yes, a wave of it was rolling through his arm. He could feel the tingling.
The magic reached his hand and burst from the center of his palm, streaking towards the feather in a bolt of bright green light.
The feather shot into the air, hit the ceiling, and drifted back down again as the burst of magic wore off.
Harry silently whooped and ran around the dorm in triumph, pumping his fists and jumping over the various detritus on the floor.
Harry grabbed Ron's shoulders and shook his best friend excitedly.
"I did it, Ron! I did it!" Harry hissed in his excitement, not realizing that he had spoken Parseltongue.
"Um, mate…I don't speak Parseltongue." Ron said, looking slightly shocked. Harry shook his head, trying reign in his emotions, and released his friend so that he was free to sign.
"Sorry. I'm so excited, I did it!" Harry signed. He laughed silently in jubilance. "I levitated the blasted feather!"
Ron grinned and picked up the feather.
"Do you want to make it explode? You keep calling it the 'blasted feather,"' Ron said, handing it back to Harry. Harry grinned maliciously and laid the feather carefully on the stone floor. He aimed a hand at it, and thought of the feather exploding in a miniature ball of fire. Then he pushed his magic down through his arm and forced it though his hand.
As before, the magic shot out in a blast of bright green light and managed to strike the feather. At once, the feather exploded in a violent burst of green fire.
Harry grinned at Ron, and the two jumped around the room together, yelling and shouting – or pretending to, in Harry's case. It didn't matter to him, though – he was still expressing his joy and triumph.
"What are you two doing?" Hermione asked, peeking her head in the dorm. "Everyone down in the common room can hear you!"
"You can't hear me," Harry said, grinning.
"Your mouth might not make noise, Harry, but your feet do," Hermione replied dryly. "And…is that a scorch mark on the floor?"
"Yes, it is," Harry signed with a satisfied smirk.
"He did it, Hermione!" Ron said, still grinning.
"Did what?"
"I made the feather shoot up in the air and hit the ceiling. Then I made it explode!" Harry signed, grinning from ear to ear.
"That's brilliant, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, now understanding their excitement. Harry once more started jumping around the room, and Ron joined in again. Hermione shook her head at their antics, though she was smiling widely.
…
Harry strode into Defense Against the Dark Arts confidently, feeling invincible because of his success in wandless magic that morning. He couldn't wait to show up the Slytherins in class. No other student, not even the most dedicated Ravenclaws, had managed a single spell wandlessly and on purpose.
Smugly, he noted that that day would be a practical lesson from the absence of desks. Good. He would have his chance, then.
Professor Charlie, as Harry had come to think of him, entered the room just as the last student closed the classroom door, right on time, as per usual.
"You lot are in for a challenge. Today you'll have a bit of a break from all of the theories we've been discussing. Line up on either side of the room, please!" the professor said, smirking. The students hastened to comply, the Gryffindors taking one side of the room with the Slytherins opposite, and the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws not caring.
"Now, although this is a NEWT level class, I don't expect many, if any of you, to be able to cast this charm. However, it is extremely useful. If you are able to master it, you will be able to defend yourself against dementors."
Charlie's last words started the classroom muttering in interest. All had experienced the dementors' invasion of the Hogwarts Express in third year, and no one wanted to be defenseless against such creatures again.
Harry raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"Will we be learning the Patronus charm, Professor?" Harry signed, and Ron translated.
"Yes. Honestly, I'm surprised you've even heard of it. Nevertheless, I cannot stress enough the difficulty of this defensive charm; many Auror trainees drop out of training because of not being able to cast it…" Harry tuned the professor's next words out. He knew this charm inside and out – this was a perfect opportunity to display his power.
"If you will all concentrate on your memories, and cast the charm when you feel ready." Charlie instructed. He retreated to his desk, and sat back to watch their attempts.
Harry watched the other students, seeing that, with the exception of the DA students, none succeeded in the slightest. The students who had learned the Patronus charm in Dumbledore's Army were having varying degrees of success. Harry smiled in pride and then smirked. The Slytherins were the only house in the class who hadn't had any success yet, as no Slytherins had been in the DA. They were already embarrassed that none of their members were having success – now Harry was going to increase that embarrassment tenfold.
In a few more seconds Neville had managed a corporeal Patronus – many students gasped as they saw the mongoose bounding through the air.
"Brilliant, Mr. Longbottom!" Charlie praised, on his feet and staring open-mouthed at the Patronus. It was astounding to see a student, even though a seventh year, manage a Patronus even in its shield form. Neville was known for his general slowness in learning magic – that he had been one of the students to manage the most advanced form of a patronus was shocking.
Therefore, when other corporeal Patronuses mixed with a few shield forms appeared, Professor Weasley had to steady himself on his desk. This was simply unbelievable – McGonagall wouldn't believe him until he showed her the memory!
Harry's smirk deepened at the sight of a weak-kneed Professor Charlie Weasley. Maybe I can actually manage to make him faint, he thought.
Harry brought his hand up, leaving his wand in his pocket, and reached into himself for his magic. It was definitely there – swirling and leaping inside him, ready to be directed and used. He grasped part of his magic and drew it up through himself, picturing his Patronus alongside a memory of his mother whispering to him in his mind. First he let the joy he felt from the memory fill him up, and then pushed the magic he had grasped down his arm to his hand.
A stream of green-tinted silvery magic burst from his palm. Harry nearly grinned, but then realized that the magic was still running down his arm. Apparently, the magic required to summon a Patronus wasn't enough to keep it up.
Harry frowned. He hadn't conjured a corporeal Patronus, just a shield form. Sure, it was impressive, he thought, but it wasn't what he had been aiming for.
Face set with determination, Harry increased the flow of his magic. The shield brightened and began morphing, while Harry pumped more and more magic into it. Finally, his familiar stag was there, and it began to leap around the room as Harry's face lit in a triumphant grin.
"Harry! You're not using a wand!" Hermione shouted, shocked. Her otter Patronus evaporated as she lost concentration, and the other Patronuses fizzled out as the other students saw the truth of Hermione's shocked declaration.
A loud thump echoed through the room as Defense Professor Charlie Weasley, toughened from working with dragons, hit the ground in a dead faint.
