A/n - I don't want to jinx it, but I think I might be able to continue with the daily updates. *crosses fingers*

FYI - Still don't know where this story is headed. Oh, what fun :D

Chapter 40 - Differences and Ragged

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"Reducto."

The small piece of log burst into a million pieces, scattering itself on the twigs and leaves littered all around the forest floor. But it didn't help much. It didn't feel enough.

Raising his arm, Harry then aimed his wand towards the log that was once beside the now pulverised piece of wood. "Expulso." This felt infinitely more satisfying. The exploding piece of log accompanied by the sound felt closer to what he had wanted. And yet, it didn't quite reach the mark. Sighing, he let his arm fall limply to his side, wondering if he needed something bigger. Something that could turn into debris within a few seconds and give him the satisfaction that he wanted. But looking around the Forest of Dean, there didn't seem to be anything else that he wanted to destroy.

Pocketing his wand, Harry moved with heavy footsteps around the forest he remembered so well, the loud scrunching of leaves under him practically music to his ears. He liked the quiet; he always had. His childhood had consisted of being woken up with heavy pounding on the door, yelling for him to clean the house, cook breakfast or even wash Dudley's awful clothes. That life was then replaced gradually by loud noises in his head. At the age of seventeen, he looked forward to a life of peace and quiet. He didn't want any of what was happening now.

Once he came towards a fairly large clearing, Harry reached for his wand, his fingers brushing against the unfamiliar texture of the Elder Wand. After a moment of hesitation, he picked it up, his gaze falling on it curiously.

Part of him had to wonder if using it would feel different from his own. Would he feel a connection to it that was much stronger than the phoenix feather? After using it, would he prefer to use the Death Stick for the rest of his life? The idea seemed rubbish in his mind. He'd had his wand for most of his life, he couldn't imagine parting with it for good.

But then he did need to master the Elder Wand; if not for his sake, for the sake of all those around him. The idea that people were after something that they thought would make them powerful beyond comprehension was ridiculous. For the longest time he had thought that it was the wizard that had the power, not the wand.

But it does make people powerful. It made Dumbledore the most powerful wizard alive. Could he have defeated Voldemort all those times had he never been the true master of the Elder Wand?

He twirled the stick in his hand, getting the feel of it, the balance. He could imagine what Ron would have said had he been here. Go on, Harry. Try something. Something wicked, something difficult.

Hermione, on the other hand, would be more logical in her approach. Do a basic charm first. Get used to the wand before you do a difficult spell. But, Hermione wasn't with him, and he felt the need to just try something.

Usually, he had to think of something happy, something that could fill him up. But all that came to mind was the moment he had seen his parents, Sirius, and Remus in the Forbidden Forest, followed shortly by the memory of his hand being held and a kind smile sent his way. He winced, he shouldn't really be thinking about Hermione. The thought of her didn't really bring out the feeling of happiness within him. He felt unsure, apprehensive and nervous when she was around. But then there would be a moment when she would look at him, just look at him as if he was the only other person around, and his chest would swell.

Distracted by the thought of his best friend, and hardly believing that what he was about to do would work, Harry lifted his wand. Expecto Patronum, he found himself thinking. One spell he had never been able to cast nonverbally. The bright silver light that burst from the tip of his wand caused his eyes to widen in surprise. At the back of his mind he couldn't help but think of how positively delighted and proud Hermione would have been had she been here to see this. The conjured smoke twisted the way it usually did, its shape forming quickly. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken when he realized that the silvery smoke was forming something smaller than what it usually did; something without antlers. Panicking, he dropped his arm, ending the spell before the Patronus could take full form.

Harry simply stared at the spot where the Patronus had been barely a few seconds ago before he stumbled backwards until his back hit a tree. Feeling his legs weaken, he dropped down to the forest floor ungracefully, the thrumming of his heartbeat drowning in his ears. Pocketing the wand with shaky fingers, he simply sat there, dropping his head against the bark of the tree and closing his eyes in order to concentrate on slowing down his rapidly beating heart.

He really shouldn't have thought of Hermione.