Untitled - challenge

I found this along with 3 horribly bad other snippets for the same story a few days ago. The others were kicked out, but I thought that this might have some kind of potential.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his whole universe belongs to J. K. Rowling and her associates. I'm just having a good time playing with it all, and I - unlike the owner - don't make a penny from it.

Ollivander looked at Harry expectantly.

"Yes?" Harry asked somewhat distractedly, occupied as he was trying to decipher the strange swirls of active magic surrounding the Beauxbatons champion.

"I need to check your wand, Mr. Potter," the old wandsmith reminded him.

"Whatever for?" Harry looked even more puzzled than before. He dimly recalled someone mentioning something about wands to him when he came to this room, but since it wasn't really interesting he didn't believe anybody could expect him to remember... Whatever it was. His train of thought stopped there and he turned his attention back to the intriguing patterns surrounding the young French witch.

Ollivander held out his hand. "Your wand please, Mr. Potter," he coaxed. He'd been warned about Mr. Potter's peculiar behaviour in advance, but the boy seemed to have an attention-span less than that of the average toddler. How these people expected him to survive whatever tasks they'd dreamed up for the tournament he couldn't fathom.

Seeing Ollivander's outstretched hand, Harry forcibly dragged himself back to reality. "My wand?" He was at a loss about how to get out of this one. Somehow he didn't think his apple-wood stick would be enough this time. "Oh, yeah, the crutch..." he murmured. "I think I've got it in here somewhere," he hedged as he opened his robe and began searching his inside pockets – and at the same time trying to come up with an idea.

Several people looked at each other in astonishment. Disregarding the 'crutch' comment for now, the boy didn't know where his wand was! To everybody in the room – apart from Harry obviously – the wand was what defined them, and to not know where it was would be unthinkable.

A minute of searching later he lit up. "There it is!" he exclaimed, and if anyone in the room had been capable of seeing active magic they would've noted a small flash from the pocket his hand was currently in.

"Here you go." He passed a plain looking wand to the old man and promptly went back to his mental mapping of Fleur's allure.

Ollivander peered at the wand with a sceptical look. He was still annoyed that young Potter hadn't come to him for his wand, and to this day nobody had been able to tell him where he'd bought it. Looking closer at it he could see several wandcrafters' styles there, including his own, but for once he was incapable of telling where it originated. Strange. He knew every wandmaker's products on sight, but he couldn't even guess at this. Something to ponder later.

"Apple and … Oh my!" The old man swallowed harshly, not quite believing what his senses and magic told him. "A-apple and vampire fang!" A round of gasps were heard in the background.

"Is that bad?" Harry inquired in a curious voice.

"Erm... No, not as such, but it's very unusual," Ollivander replied. I would guess it's even more temperamental than Mlle. Delacour's." He flicked it once and a thick jet of red wine shot out of it, flattening a chair that happened to be in the way before making a mess up the far wall. Jaws dropped throughout the room.

"Ye-yes..." Ollivander stammered. "Definitely temperamental!" He called on all his experience to reach a semblance of calm. "It's in perfect working order Mr. Potter, but I implore you to never let anyone else handle it. Here you are." He handed Harry the wand back.

"Thank you," Harry took it and looked at the Headmaster. "Are we done yet?"

"Yes we are, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore sighed, once again thrown by the enigma wrapped in a puzzle and disguised as a riddle shrouded in mystery that was the last Potter. Every time he thought he had finally gotten a clue about the linchpin of all his plans, young Potter would do something entirely new and he'd be back to square one.

"Brilliant!" said mystery exclaimed, and the wand in his hand promptly turned into a wallet which he then proceeded to place in the pocket he'd pulled the wand from.

Another round of dropped jaws occurred, this time accompanied by whispered expletives and cries of disbelief.

"Erm... Oops?" Harry's shoulders sagged and his head dropped when it dawned on him what he'd done.

"Did you... Did you just transfigure your wand into a wallet?" Ollivander couldn't believe what he'd just seen.

"Erm... No, not exactly..." Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable and Fleur was wondering why. After all he'd just achieved the impossible and should be bragging and crowing if her knowledge of human nature was something to go by, but he looked anything but proud of his achievement, and it wasn't just modesty either. In fact he seemed annoyed with himself and Fleur just got herself a new quest. Harry Potter was elevated from 'leetle boy' to 'most important task' instantly, something that would likely take most of her time and effort over the next few months – and incidentally something that just might make her stay in this godforsaken place worthwhile. He had already been slowly creeping up her meter due to his ability – which he didn't even seem to be aware of himself – to completely ignore her allure, and now this unbelievable feat which he didn't seem impressed with himself. Yes, Harry Potter just found himself at the top of Fleur Delacour's list of mysteries to solve.

"I ended the transformation of my wallet actually," he murmured, prompting yet another round of astonishment. This time however Ollivander actually passed out.

A quick spell later and the old wand-maker was – mostly – at an even keel again, although still reeling from what had just happened.

"Am I to understand that you just transfigured a working wand? Wandlessly no less?"

"I had to give you a wand, didn't I?"

"Mr. Potter," came Dumbledore's voice from the other side, "why didn't you just give Mr. Ollivander the wand you use in class?"

By way of answer Harry dug into another pocket and passed Ollivander a wand that looked just like the one from before.

"Ollivander looked intently at the wand, and then just as intently at Harry. "This isn't a wand, Mr. Potter. It's a stick!"

"I know," came Harry's reply. "I made it myself after all."

"Why do you even carry this?"

"Because I need it for classes."

"…"

"…"

"Does this tie into your comment about a crutch? And if it does, then how?" Ollivander asked, demonstrating more mental acumen than Harry had met in a wizard in a long while.

"If you have a bad leg," Harry began, "...a leg that you can actually use but not well enough to let you stand or walk, you use a crutch to make up the difference. It's the same with magic, you know."

Blank stares greeted this statement and Harry sighed.

"If you're magical but not quite to the point where you can freely use it, you can – for lack of a better explanation – 'shape' magic through a wand using a formalised spell which is in essence 'pre-shaped' bits of magic that just need assembling. It places some rather narrow restrictions on the user, but I guess the original thought was better a little magic use than no use at all."

Pandemonium broke out.

"Are you saying that Professor Dumbledore is not powerful enough?" Cedric Diggory asked in disbelief. "He's the strongest wizard in the world!"

"No I'm not and no he's not," Harry replied. "He's certainly a powerful wizard, but there are a few stronger than him. As for 'powerful enough'... He's got more than I have and I'm using magic freely, so of course he's powerful enough."

"But you just said that those who use wands are those who don't have enough power," came from Ollivander – who looked not happy at all at the perceived slight to his trade.

"No I didn't," Harry denied. "I said that those are the ones wands were meant for, but that was a long time ago. Given that use of free magic actually require independent thought and use of wands just requires memorising what somebody else already did, wizard laziness did the rest." He thought for a moment. "I'm sure that the fact that use of free magic can't be traced has nothing to do with every Ministry in the world encouraging the belief that wands are necessary of course..."

"No!" the Durmstrang Headmaster exclaimed firmly. "The child is having us on, just like his ridiculous claim that he didn't enter the Tournament. Magic requires a wand, period!"

Harry shook his head. "You truly are an idiot, aren't you?" he said softly. "You have just seen free magic being used and yet you still deny it. You apparate without using your wand, don't you?"

"Show Headmaster Karkaroff the respect he deserves, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore admonished sternly as Karkaroff slowly turned a very unhealthy colour.

"I am," Harry countered. "Now, for those as set in their views as the idiot there," he pointed at Karkaroff, "let me try this way: Imagine 20.000 years ago. Billy the Caveman – who just happens to be magical - has had a bit of luck today and killed himself a deer, and now he's working to bring it home. It's pretty smooth going until he reaches the foothills not far from the cave, and then his progress stops. Do you expect him to go like this: 'Right, there's a tree over there with bowtruckles in it. If I get myself a branch from that I can split it and place this unicorn hair I just happen to have inside it. Then I can inscribe a few runes – which will be invented in about 18.000 years – inside the branch as well, and then all that's left is fusing the halves together again – with a glue that'll be invented in 16.000 years – and polishing it. After that it's just a matter of waving it and saying locomotor deer (of course Latin is still a good 17.000 years away) and then I can float the deer the rest of the way home'."

Exclamations were heard from the listeners, mainly about why they'd never thought of that themselves.

Harry smirked at his audience and jammed his hands in his pockets. "Or would you expect him to simply use his magic and make the carcass move like this?" He looked at Fleur with an impudent grin, then reached out and let his magic connect to the free, ambient magic in the area and lifted her off her feet; floated her in a circle and then to the nearest wall where he tilted her slightly a few times before gently putting her down again and leaving the room, without even being conscious about the fidelius-like enchantment he laid over those still there that prohibited them from discussing what had transpired with anyone who didn't already know.

Harry was once again lost in a world of his own as he made his way to his dorm. Having his magic directly interact with Fleur had almost overloaded his mind with information about the magic that surrounded her; what its purpose was; how it was projected; how it was made up and – probably important since he got the feeling that Fleur didn't know herself – how to neutralise it. It seemed that a bit of thinking and then a meeting with the French witch was in his immediate future.

Now Fleur on the other hand was in a bit of a bind. Not literally of course, although she might actually have preferred that. No, she was working hard to keep her knees from buckling under her, and at the same time she was panting and her insides were quivering. Contrary to what the others in the room believed, the magic in Harry's little demonstration had not had her by the hips or waist in a two-point grip. Definitely not! Harry's magic had cocooned her in a soft blanket that had held her all over. It had felt warm, powerful, protective and... Curious? And moreover, 'all over' really meant all over! As in Every. Single. Inch. of her body, and those feelings in certain areas and on specific, highly sensitive parts had had her within inches of climaxing very hard and exceedingly loudly right there. A few more seconds and she would have been powerless to stop it. Strangely enough Harry had acted like he didn't know how it affected her, so maybe he really didn't.

She was quickly coming to the conclusion that even those who should know him didn't really have a clue about him at all, and that no matter how it looked on the surface, Harry was anything but a normal young lad, but all else aside he was still a 14 year-old boy, and honestly what did one of those know about how a young woman would react to anything? Normal or not Harry Potter was a titillating mystery, and he could do things that she was certain that nobody else could, apparently including making a sexual creature cream herself from several yards away. He had already shot up her 'find out more'-list, but now he was the only item on her 'to do'-list. Oh yes, Fleur Delacour was going to find out what the secret was to his use of magic, and then she was going to do Harry Potter come hell or high water!

Right... The above is 'the weighing of the wands' in one of those stories I'll never get around to write but would dearly like to see done. The plot is that Harry discovers his magic at a very early age – say around 4 – during some kind of punishment at Privet Drive. He wishes for some kind of retaliation against Vernon and magic delivers. Harshly! Since that day the Dursleys are terrified of him, and he is treated decently – if not kindly – after that, allowing him to grow as he should both physically and intellectually.

Due to his drive to explore, understand and experiment with this new power of his, he's perhaps even more clueless and socially retarded than in canon, but on the other hand he's been developing his intellect much further than he otherwise would; in part because he isn't punished for doing well in school and in part because he utilises all he has in any way he can in order to delve deeper into this strange power.

Once he gets to Hogwarts it's instantly clear to him that his use of magic is contrary to every belief about it (something he suspected already when the list of requirements in his Hogwarts letter included a wand, thus the apple-wood stick), and he does what he can to hide what he's doing – or more precisely how he's doing it. Unfortunately though, during his first flying lesson a girl falls off her broom and Harry - still suffering from saviour-syndrome – catches her magically. The girl experiences what Fleur did in the above (including the climax that Fleur didn't quite reach. Luckily she's not a screamer) and tells her best friend – who tells another friend who tells..., and after that a still clueless Harry has one of the resident bookworms (Granger, Patil, Turpin, Clearwater, Davis, Perks, Edgecombe or others) request that he lift her 'to reach a book on the top shelf' at least once a day (I keep getting a mental picture of a 13-year old Ms. Granger dropping whimpering and shivering to the library floor, curled around a 1200-page tome detailing the fees that each magical family in Britain paid in tuition to Hogwarts from 1150 to 1725 as soon as Harry turns his back after setting her down), and others need lifting in order to 'check a detail' at the very top of a painting or whatever else they can think of that'll require elevation, not to mention 7th year student N. Tonks in need of catching on a regular basis throughout his first year when she stumbles over stray atoms.

I picture Harry as a Hufflepuff in this one (hard work being a 'puff trait, and he's working really hard on deepening his understanding of magic) but he could probably be in any House, and while generally well liked and on friendly terms with most in his year and those just above and below he has no close friends seeing that he's almost never around, preferring to work alone on his own project.

Speaking of project, once Fleur throws herself into 'project do Harry', the resident young witches mobilise and she's told in no uncertain terms to never ever let him know what his 'magical grip' has in terms of side-effects, believing (probably correctly) that Harry's Lifting-service would cease operations as soon as his blush faded enough to allow blood to the brain again.

I don't picture him being on the quidditch-team in this one, given that he caught a girl rather than Neville's remembrall, and while he's still a fine flier, his main interest I brooms is trying to figure out how free magic could be used to make something similar or better.

Some might have noticed that he doesn't use any kind of honorifics in the scene above. I'm not quite sure why I wrote it that way, but I think it fits the distracted scholar quite well.

Basically it's mostly crack, but I still believe there would be plenty of room to actually put a real plot in there somewhere, and I would so love to see it done. Therefore the challenge is: Decide how Harry goes about the challenges and disasters at Hogwarts and write it! The harder challenge: Write it within the parameters for a K+ rating.

Please?