Chapter Three- So what are we doing here?

He rested gratefully under the branches of a rather odd tree. It was very big, for one, but Sora could have sworn that several times he'd seen the thing move. Regardless of the fact that this was a magic school, it was still a tree and Sora was merely grateful for it's shade. Sora wasn't aware of it, but he should never have been allowed to get so close to it. This particular tree had a personality issue- that is, it hated everybody. Impartially, and without regret. The fact that it's name is the Whomping Willow should be the first and last clue. However, Sora had been blissfully unaware of that as he'd settled there, letting his emotions go and reveling in the beauty of his new surrounds. Creak-swish!

Sora looked up, confused.

Nothing. (In actual fact, a bird that had been blissfully enjoying the lovely morning had chanced too close to the tree and was now…no longer flying. Or chirping. Or making any movement at all, really…) Sora stretched lazily, letting a hand reach out affectionately against the tree's trunk. He thought it might have twitched, for a moment, but that was ridiculous. (Considering his earlier near-terror of a hat of all things, this may seem somewhat hypocritical. Which it is, but Sora, ball of light that he was, had merely been looking for rest. His overwhelming light and dreamy unconcern for the fighting tree had stunned it into stillness, and after all, people are never afraid of trees at first. No. Something always has to happen.) The Whomping Willow, though it didn't know it, had fallen victim to the charms of the young boy like any other number of people. (A tree was a first, even for him.) First was the dazed confusion- why aren't I killing/robbing/hitting-him-with-a-branch, then the dazed realization- he's-kind-of-cute/why-is-he-smiling-at-me/resting-beneath-my-branches, and lastly, dazed acceptance, he-really-is-cute/he's-smiling-at-me/resting-beneath-my-branches. Finally, the poor tree was so happy he was sitting beside it and no other tree that the idea of trying to kill him had never really crossed it's mind.

Meanwhile, Sora's headache was gone, his thoughts were at peace, and he should really get back before people got worried. He patted the trunk of the enormous willow fondly.

"Thanks," he said to the tree, oddly grateful for it's presence.

"I'll try to come back, okay?" And with a final pat he left the comfort of its shade and walked back up to the castle. The Whomping Willow watched him go sadly.

--

Sora met Harry and his friends on his way back.

"Hey Sora, you okay? Where were you?" Sora smiled.

"Oh, no-where, just sitting under that nice tree down by the lake."

"…" Sora was at peace with the world but the frozen expressions on their faces made him blink.

"What?" Harry grabbed him by the arm, turned him around, and pointed to the Willow down below.

"That tree? That tree exactly? You sat down under it?" Sora nodded, confused.

"And you're still alive?" Sora was really getting confused, now.

"Yes. That tree. Directly under. And of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?" Ron made a strangled sound. In fact, he made several.

"That evil, demonically possessed tree tried to kill us! It hates everything! Everything!"

Sora rolled his eyes.

"Please. It was a perfectly nice tree. Now come on, I've gotta meet Donald and Goofy so we can show the professor's how much magic we know…"

Just another day at Hogwart's school of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

--

The show-and-tell magic lesson was interesting, to say the least. Needless to say, the two parties involved wielded magic very differently. Professor Dumbledore had decided that the Room of Requirement was perfect for the purposes of the demonstration, as well as keeping curious eyes away. Sora privately wondered if it even mattered- half of the school had seen him pull an oddly key-shaped weapon out of thin air after all. But Sora also knew enough to guess that this Dark Lord they had running around might- no, would, have spies among the students, and keeping all advantages as close as possible for as long as possible was crucial. He was saddened that people his age would willingly supply information about their peers to the monster, knowing that very few of them really understood the consequences of their actions.

Donald was impatient to get to the spell-casting, while Sora and Dumbledore were trying to understand each other's views on magic.

Sora's view of magic was rather a simplistic one. When he had first discovered it, he had marveled of course, but of much more importance than the magic itself, had been the magic's aid in his battles.

It was all about staying alive. Every spell he knew was of use in battle- from thundaga to cure spells. From what he'd seen of Hogwarts so far, magic was used for everything. The young witches and wizards used magic to float objects, to transform them, and they did this with everything from their homework to getting their meals.

Sora wasn't sure if he approved. Perhaps it was disillusionment that magic, seen from his younger, awed perspective, was used so frivolously, when after all, it had saved his life- and threatened it- from the moment he'd discovered it. Finally, sick of arguing about it, they agreed to just go ahead and show each other.

The wizards- and witches- went first. With a wave of a wand, and words spoken in an odd language Sora didn't recognize, objects in the room became alive. Professor McGonagall seemed to prefer doing this quite literally, when a brass cat statue shook itself and stepped down from the mantle with the inborn disdain present in all cats. Harry and his friends floated objects, summoned them, changed them from one thing into another. (How a cushion could become a raven, Sora had no idea.) Interestingly, Professor Dumbledore performed no magic, seeming to prefer watching them all, thumbs hooked in his pockets. Watching one of Harry's spells, a lovely silver stag, canter around the room before fading, Sora thought to ask what he thought was an obvious question.

"What of battle magic?" This question got him a slight frown from Professor McGonagall, who seemed irritated that a child would need to know such dangerous magic, and Sora wondered if she'd completely skipped over the dangers he'd mentioned from his past. And present. And very foreseeable future. Harry answered, and Sora nodded thoughtfully to himself, remembering that Harry had been the target of the Dark maniac more than once.

"Yeah, there's loads of spells you can use against opponents. Think of how we changed that cushion into a raven- while full-body human transformations are really hard, little alterations aren't. Not to mention the basic stunning spells, trip and confusion hexes…" Harry trailed off, and Hermione lunged in eagerly.

"Ooh, that's true, there's so many jinxes and hexes good for fighting, stuff everybody knows, and.." Hermione paused, enthusiasm visibly dieing off, "not to mention the dark spells. Torture spells and control spells and rituals."

Sora felt ill. From what he could see of Donald's face, he felt the same.

"Gee," he whispered. "That's terrible." He thought of what little magic he knew, and winced.

"Well, we haven't got anything that, that-." He was tempted to say terrible again, but swallowed it and said "Strange," instead. He summoned the Keyblade, and looked up at the teachers. When Professor Dumbledore had asked what kind of design he needed to perform his magic, Sora had thought of a plaza, an odd mix of the many he'd seen on different worlds crossed with the battle arena from Olympus. Then he'd had to walk three times in front of the plain wooden door inwardly thinking of a room like that that would also have a comfortable sitting arrangement for when they needed to hash over details. The resulting 'room' had been odd indeed, with an enormous fighting arena but with what looked to be a lounge-room setting close to the door. Not wanting to set the couches on fire, and wanting room to move to show them what he could do- and maybe show off just a little- Sora led the way out onto the arena. It looked a lot like Olympus stadium, and he looked around automatically for Phil before staring down at the floor for a long moment, distracted by the odd markings that looked like wings, wondering what on earth the room had seen in his mind. He dragged his attention to his audience, who were watching him with barely masked eagerness, and Donald who was all but dancing in place. The only thing was, they were far too close. If he swung the Keyblade now, he'd kill someone.

"Well, our magic is more, uh, direct, and to show you properly, Donald and me will need a bit of room. A lot of room. So if you could wait just over there…" They all hurried to do so, Goofy standing a little apart incase they wanted to borrow his strength for a particular spell.

It was strange, standing there, feeling foolish, with no enemies to battle. He shifted into a battle stance, then stopped, chewing on his lip.

"Uh, actually, do you think you could magic up some opponents for us? Otherwise I'm gonna feel pretty silly hacking at thin air." Dumbledore chuckled and for the first time lifted his wand, bringing it down towards the floor in an intricate but precise motion. Sora couldn't help but notice he said nothing aloud. A haze spread out of his wand and took form, smoky shapes that, as they spilled from his wand, gained more and more form, until they were solid. They drifted over towards Donald and Sora, swirling out to surround them, and Sora fell back into a fighting stance, lifting his blade. This was more like it. His opponents, whatever they were, strange silver ghost-like shadows, didn't move. They simply watched him with blank, lifeless eyes.

"Sora? Whenever you're ready, just say so, and I'll activate them." Sora nodded, then said, "Now's fine. I wish the heartless informed us before attacking…"

And then the silver wraiths began to move.

They were fast, for such seemingly insubstantial figures, but for all their speed, Sora was even faster, already blurring forward as soon as he detected movement. Oathkeeper sang as he slashed brutally at a wraith, in a simple overhead strike, before leaping easily over it and swiping through it, dispelling it. For the moment, Sora didn't even think about magic, for the instant he'd moved he'd been absorbed in the battle, stretching out his senses until he knew where everything was. And in battle, you didn't waste your magic until you needed to. He was a whirlwind through them, Oathkeeper dancing around his form as he took down wraith after wraith. He felt more than saw thundaga take down several wraiths and grinned, remembering the whole point of this mock battle. Back-flipping high over the wraith's heads, he landed lightly in a crouch, whipping the Keyblade around his body crying "Firaga" as he did so. Fire erupted from Oathkeeper's tip, whipping around the blade and shooting out at his target. Then he widened the spell, and a wave of hot flame lashed at them. He sensed wraiths behind him, trying to ambush him, felt Donald take them out with a concentrated Force spell, and he rolled under the dissipating magic, before surging to his feet and leaping into the air, slashing at a trio of wraiths with a cry as he unleashed a powerful ice spell. Then he really unleashed, spinning through the remaining wraiths, throwing lightning and force spells, fire and ice, and even letting aeroga's winds wrap around his body, though it wasn't needed. Not even slightly out of breath, he regarded the scorched ground, free of any wraiths, and threw a wry smile at Donald.

"Perhaps we should ask for some more so we can show some of our combination spells…" He turned to the watching group, mouth open to ask. The looks on their faces was rather unsettling, and he frowned. They wizards had performed some powerful, intricate spells. Surely nothing Sora had done had caused those looks?

Sora didn't know it, but he had shocked them, and shocked them deeply. It's one thing to hear about other worlds and epic battles and quite another to have a glimpse into the reality…It hadn't really been the spells, although the sheer strength of them had caused breathe to lodge in more than one throat, but more to do with the boy dancing lightly, murderously, through the overwhelming pack, emerging victorious and without a scratch. More to do with the young teen moving with such deadly grace, leaping and flipping through the air, moves that showed constant use, moves that no child should know. And even Donald had been surprising, for while he did not physically combat the wraiths, he had moved easily through the packs, striking swiftly and violently at their weakest points.

"Too easy," Donald cackled. Sora grinned.

"Those are just the basic, run of the mill spells. When Donald, Goofy and I combine strength we can do quite a bit more. And Donald can do transformation magic- before I got these clothes from the three Good Fairies, he was the one that changed us when we needed to fit into different worlds- like ones underwater."

Sora was quickly learning to fear that look on Hermione's face. That kind of obsessive need to know was scary. Professor McGonagall was staring at him as if they'd just met, but Dumbledore merely let his wand fall again, and more silver wraiths began to form, almost double the original number. Sora waved Goofy over, and the trio got into a familiar position, back to back, respective weapons ready. While the wraiths surrounded them, Sora looked over his shoulder at his friends, saying, "We'll let Donald run through a few spells, I'll do a quick change to Valor, and we'll finish on a Trinity Limit, k?" Receiving assent, Sora turned his attention back to the wraiths.

It was all over rather quickly. The wraiths had none of the strengths of the heartless, none of their tricks or their strikes. They were all the same, and to Sora, Donald and Goofy, easy targets. Sora and Goofy leant their magical energy to Donald, not even needing, for such an easy battle, to take any potions to lift their levels. After a few impressive firestorms of magic, Sora nodded and reached, reached out from somewhere inside, feeling for his friend's magic, no, more, perhaps his very soul, pulling him inside, merging briefly.

There was an explosion of light, Goofy vanishing from the arena as Sora floated lightly above the ground, his enchanted clothes reflecting his change, battle-red glowing fiercely. He blurred, Keyblades whirling, Oathkeeper in his left, Oblivion is his right. After that, they hardly needed Trinity Limit, but went for it anyway, letting the remaining wraiths edge closer before Sora somersaulted into the air, letting Oathkeeper strike the ground hard as he let their combined energies free. There was an impact to the air, an explosion of light and power, and for a moment, Sora was reminded of how they'd come to this world, just after this very attack…

When the light cleared, no wraiths remained.

"Well, I don't think we need to worry about Summons right now, but otherwise, what level do you think we're at?"

That was Sora. Donald was much less modest in his comments.

--

In the end, Dumbledore let Sora and his friends merge with Harry's year, since the younger years concentrated more on harnessing their magic, and Sora and Donald were clearly ahead in that area. And as for Goofy, he wasn't to be left behind, and a further knowledge of magic couldn't hurt. Dumbledore suggested that perhaps Goofy could help out in the sick-bay, learning more about the various potions used to heal. Dumbledore was fascinated with their cure potions, which Sora couldn't really demonstrate since he was, happily, quite uninjured.

Give him a day or so, at least.

Everyone was ready to leave, but Sora had a question, one he'd been forming when he saw their different applications of magic. For one, Sora and Donald were drained when they used magic. From what he could see, the wizards used far less magic- and Sora thought the strength of their spells might be different. He could see the spells as they formed, like an almost invisible silver mist warping what they touched. Sora and Donald may have less spells, but Sora thought they might just be more powerful. To this end, he asked Dumbledore to hit him.
With a spell, of course, a non-lethal one preferably, so Sora could see what it did to him.

After a brief discussion with an indignant Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore offered to perform a simple stunning charm, a spell that would simply knock him unconscious for a brief while. Sora let the Keyblade fade, forcing himself to stand still.

"Stupefy!" Weird name…

Sora could see the spell for an instant, forming, as Dumbledore's magic gathered and then lanced forward to strike him dead on.

And nothing happened. Sora looked down, dazed by the red flash of light, where the spell had impacted with no little force against his chest, then up at the astonished group.

"Interesting."

--

Sora had a theory- which was a little odd, because Sora had never claimed to be a thinker. But he hadn't survived his whole 'hero-jaunt' by being completely clueless. And exchanging a rapid-fire slew of questions with Donald, he and Dumbledore came up with an acceptable theory, helped along by Hermione, who was so excited she couldn't remain still. The magicians of Hogwarts used their magic all the time- they could afford to, since they used only a fraction of their power with their spells. Sora and Donald, however, used much more magic creating their spells, and with their constant use and exposure to some of the strongest and most potent of magic's, this made them pretty much immune to the magic of weaker spells. (Sora gradually had gained a resistance to fire spells, for example, as he'd gone along being hit by them. Which had proven useful when fighting that strange nobody, Axel. That didn't mean they didn't do damage, but the damage was lessened.)

Sora wasn't even sure if they could learn this kind of magic- he supposed it was about control. If he tried to float something like Harry had and accidentally blew the roof off, he'd be very embarrassed. Perhaps some of Hogwarts stronger magic's, the Unforgivables, for example, would have an effect. Perhaps not. It wasn't something that could be tested. In the end, Donald had ended the discussion- which had disintegrated into debate, by characteristically blowing up and waddling off in a huff. It had been a very full day, after all, and tomorrow, Sora and Donald would be attempting to learn magic- Hogwart's style.

And that has got to be worth seeing.

--

"Here's your room," Professor McGonagall stated, gesturing to a portrait of a blue moon reflecting over a quiet lake. Sora had already seen the Gryffindor common-room when Harry had been showing him some of the castle, so this statement wasn't as confusing as it otherwise would have been.

"We decided it would be better if you three were kept apart from the mainstream students," she said easily over Ron's muttering about the unfairness of them having a room all to themselves.

"I'm sure Mr.Weasley, Mr. Potter, and Miss Granger will be more than happy to meet you here in the morning and help you around." Ron shut up abruptly, and Harry and Hermione grinned at Sora and the others, nodding happily. This was much more exciting than doing Potions homework or something, and for once, when something odd happened at Hogwarts, they were being involved instead of excluded. Probably only because Sora was their age, but still.

The day was wearing on, so whispering 'Keyblade' to the portrait, Sora lead his friends into their new room- pausing and turning back to tug Donald up over the frame amid indignant squawks. It was a simple room, the portrait opening on a tiny, cozy looking lounge. To the left was a room with three beds in it, and to the right was a bathroom.

Disrupted as they had been from their last sleep, and with a long day of questions and surprises behind them, it didn't take long for the three to fall asleep.

As the Keyblade Master slept deeply, dreaming of home, shadows began to stir, shifting and twisting almost as if they were alive. They seemed to be searching.