Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter. This is an amateur, non-profit work. I write for my own enjoyment.

Chapter 8: Magic Hands?

{So, young Harry, were all these information too much to absorb?}

Harry had looked quite dazed by the end of the long lectures. But then he jumped and said eagerly, "So, can I do magic now?"

Seeing how happy Harry was, Voldemort had remembered his own excitement as a child when he first discovered his extraordinary abilities. Things that he can do that other people can't, things that made him feel special. He could have smiled.

Instead, he simply continued, {First, Harry, sit. For wandless magic you need a very good concentration, and an even better visualization.}

Harry obeyed, sitting down cross-legged on the floor.

{Now, I need you to close your eyes... Feel your magic inside of you and feel its power. Imagine inside your body there is a glowing, bright light... Imagine that is where your magic comes from. That is where your magical reservoir is.}

Closing his eyes, he imagined the bright light inside of him. He followed Voldemort's voice; he imagined the light was glowing, pulsing, flowing around his body, starting from above, from his head, down towards where his heart was, along his arms to the tip of his fingers, down the length of his legs to his toes.

{Good. Now in your mind, visualize a sphere of light forming right above your palm. No need to make it big, a small one will suffice.}

"As big as a golf ball?" Asked Harry, imagining Uncle Vernon's favourite sport.

{Yes, it doesn't matter. Now, that light is powered by your magic inside of you, like a lamp being powered...}

"Like electricity! So, magic is like electricity!" Harry interrupted Voldemort mid-speech.

{Well, yeees, if you want to think of it that way...} He really, really needed to remind himself who he was teaching, and why. Harry was just a boy; snapping at him now would gain nothing.

{Now, your sphere of light is powered by your magic. More magic means bigger sphere and brighter light... Good, imagine your magic powering that sphere... Yes. Right, very good. Now slowly open your eyes.}

Harry opened his eyes and gasped. Slightly hovering on his palm was a small sphere of pure white light. It was simply beautiful. His first conscious act of magic! As Harry watched it slowly dissipated.

{Your visualization is good. Did you know that you just complete a spell? That was called the lighting spell. Its incantation is 'lumos', a latin term for light, but you don't need to say it. Wizards use it to see in the dark, like a lantern but much handier. Like all things, it took practice to maintain it. Again.}

Harry repeated forming the light sphere a number of times. Sometimes he made the sphere of light bigger, smaller, brighter, or dimmer following Voldemort's instruction. In time he could maintain it longer and longer.

{See? You're controlling the amount of magic you need for the spell. You can determine the brightness by how much magic you send to it... How much magic you use determine how powerful the spell that is produced. Some spells require only a small amount of magic. No need to waste your magic on something as simple as lighting spells...}

{Now on to the next part. I want you to try moving things with your magic.}

Harry looked around, trying to find something more interesting to try with. He saw a pouch containing something on the other side of the bed and was curious about it. Harry was about to move to take it when Voldemort commanded instead, {No, Harry, try taking it with your magic. Picture that thing clearly in your mind and will it to move to you.}

Harry pictured the pouch and willed it to move. For a long while nothing happened.

{Concentrate! Picture it clearly. Imagine it coming towards you. And it will}

Well, nothing was happening no matter how hard he had concentrated and imagined it. Frustrated, Harry produced his sphere of light again. He tried moving the pouch with the sphere, but failed.

Voldemort simply drawled {Well of course it won't move.}

Harry had not given up. He ignored Voldemort's comment; he was already used to people belittling him. He thought of another way to do it. His magic, his way. He concentrated harder, now imagining his magic glowing inside his body, now coming out of his hands, now extending out from his fingers forming long, glowing tendrils of golden light. He tried to use the tendrils of magic to pull and push the pouch towards him. It finally moved an inch.

Harry gave a cheer.

Harry tried to make the tendrils of magic wrap around the pouch to move it faster. He wished he could grab the pouch with his hands, much easier... Suddenly Harry had a flash of inspiration; he imagined the glowing tendrils of magic merged and turned into a hand-shape. Harry imagined the glowing hand-shaped magic grabbed the pouch and carried it to him. Harry cried out in triumph when the glowing hand scooped up the pouch and dropped it onto his lap.

There was silence. Voldemort cleared his throat and said, {Well, that certainly isn't something that I expected.}

"What? Did I do it wrong?"

{No, Harry, different people do magic differently. It seemed that you prefer using magical manifestation while I prefer more on the mind visualization. My method is also used to perform spells with wands. But to each his own, I guess... So, what is in that thing?}

Harry pulled the string of the dusty pouch and out rolled two dozen or so marbles. "Dudley's old marbles. He got it on his fifth birthday. Some he won from his friends."

He remembered how jealous he was of Dudley that time. Now, it seemed that Dudley had outgrown or forgotten all about them. He rolled the marbles around and flicked them towards each other, like he saw Dudley and his friends did it.

{Use your magic to move them. This shall be your practice.}

But first, Voldemort wanted him to have better control of his magic. It had taken him a lot more effort and an even greater concentration to completely control the movement of the tendrils and the hands. Whenever he was distracted (deliberately by Voldemort), he lost control of his magic tendrils where it dissipated or, once, the glowing hand managed to whack him right across his face when he tried to move it towards him. And that hurt.

Finally, Harry got the hang of controlling his magic. Harry had a time of his life when he used his magic to play. He used the long tendrils of magic to direct the marbles towards him and bounce the marbles towards each other. Changing the magic tendrils to the glowing hand-shape, he floated the marbles with the glowing hand, juggled them and flicked them towards other marbles as targets. He had tried changing the hands to other shapes, but then found that the hand-shape was more fun and had even more possibilities. One time, as many as three different glowing hands were fighting to target the marbles. Harry was laughing heartily as he tried to wrestle the hands with each other, the marbles apparently forgotten. Voldemort had been pretty impressed; that feat of magic requires a lot of concentration, not to mention a high amount of magical reserve.

{Now, Harry, try not to make your magic glowing; it's too conspicuous. You can make it so that the tendrils and the hands of magic are invisible to others. You can sense or even see them since they are an extension of your own magic.}

This time Harry imagined his magic coming out like invisible strands. It was harder to control than before. But Harry could sense his magic and only needed to direct the movement and the formation in his mind. That was how he controlled his invisible strands of magic to form the hands and move the marbles and other things around and he could make it visible again if he wanted to. He had to admit though; the sights of things floating around his bedroom without any visible support reminded him of ghost stories. Now that would be a good prank for Dudley.

{So, enough fun for today. We'll have to continue tomorrow.}

"But we only just started!"

{Really? Look at the time now.}

Harry was quite surprised when he looked at Dudley's old clock; it was already past four in the evening. He had practiced magic for half a day and he didn't even notice it! No, correction. Now after all the excitement, he realized he felt exhausted, like he had run a marathon for miles.

{Any longer and you'll deplete your magical reserve. You'll fall asleep on your feet until your magic recharges itself. With practice, you'd be able to perform magic longer. Now, go find something to eat to recharge.}

Voldemort thought that the amount of Harry's magical reserve was quite impressive. Wandless magic requires more power than magic done with a wand, and requires more concentration. Lesser wizards should have depleted his magical reserve faster and thus tired out quicker than Harry after that magical feat. And that he was only ten years old! Not that he'll ever tell Harry that.

Aunt Petunia had quickly scurried out of the kitchen upon hearing Harry coming, wanting to avoid him as much as she possibly can. Harry sighed; he thought being feared like he might kill someone was better than being beaten, scolded or ignored, but now... He had already apologized. Was there actually someone who would ever like him, and is there ever a place he would be accepted?

Harry made a simple dinner (he never had tea) for himself out of bread and some ham. Voldemort theorized that perhaps the boy's magical reserve had to compensate for the meagre amount of food he consumed for years. It had to somehow increase accordingly to sustain the boy so that he wouldn't die due to starvation. Now, the boy needed more food than ever due to practicing magic.

A/N:

Told you it was hands-on magic (grins).

Anyway, the idea for 'magical hand' is from the first chapter of the story 'A Black Comedy' by Nonjon. I thought it was really cool.