A/N: I actually like this chapter. However, given how I'm fighting to breathe some sort of conflict into later chapters, here's my advice: jump ship now. Stop reading this. Never think about this again. This is nothing beyond the pointless, unappetizing scrawl of just another angsty ex-kid with ancient dreams of being thought of a writer. Translating - this is nothing better than everything else on this site.

Chapter Eighteen

Magic

They arrived at Longbottom Manor around 10am. Neville and Sarah greeted them, and Neville escorted them into an antechamber to wait for the Vanes and Hermione. Aurora left to go get Hermione. Neville's Gran – Augusta Longbottom – watched over them. She reminded Harry of Professor McGonagall when the teacher was irate about something.

"Harry," Sarah said, "my parents have requested that I request an audience with you, probably sometime over Christmas vacation. They want to talk about your offer."

"Okay," Harry said.

Paradise looked curious, but she didn't inquire what offer Sarah was talking about. Neville knew already. In short order, Able and Romilda flooed into the entrance room and Neville ran out to bring them into the antechamber. They chatted for a few minutes, before Neville ran out again and came back with a glowing, happy Hermione. Aurora hadn't come in with her, saying she'd be going over back to Hogwarts to attend to a few things. That left the whole group there, with just Augusta Longbottom. The matron of the Longbottom house greeted Hermione, very formally, before addressing the whole group. "I will not provide constant supervision for you, only know that myself or the house elves will be watching from afar in case you decide to act on any nefarious plots." Paradise blinked, obviously not understanding. "Do you have a specific plan for today, Heir Longbottom?"

"No, Madam," Neville said. "I wished to ask my friends before deciding. Although, I did plan on first showing Romilda and Paradise to the dollhouse and letting them play there." Romilda and Paradise looked a little confused. But at Mrs. Longbottom's nod, Neville led his group of friends out of the antechamber, through a hallway and up three flights of stairs. The Longbottoms came from old money. They were no longer technically rich, but the imperishable goods of their manor would not be soon forgotten. On the third floor, Neville led them down a few more corridors before he paused to open a door.

Paradise, Romilda, Sarah, and even Hermione, stared at the room, cooing. The whole room was a dollhouse. And the dollhouse was huge! The dolls were probably only about half a foot high, so they seemed rather out of place in the ginormous house, but the spell work on the little dolls was incredible. They looked alive. "The dolls speak," Neville said, a grin on his face as he pushed Paradise and Romilda into the room, "and there's eleven of them. I guarantee you won't get to meet all eleven. Have fun, and don't worry about calling for a house elf if you need anything."

The two little girls darted into the dollhouse and Neville closed the door behind them. "That looks so cool," Hermione said, "the spell work—"

"Want to join them?" Able asked, nudging Hermione with his shoulder. "I'm sure you must miss playing with dolls."

"Shut up or I'll smack you," Hermione challenged, but she was grinning.

"Come on," Neville said, "I want to show you guys the greenhouse!" The five friends headed off, bounding through the hallways, talking and laughing. Harry knew they weren't ready for a heavy discussion yet; it would probably take so much time for Neville to forgive how his now best friend had treated him in the fabricated world. It would take Harry forever to forget. They made a good group of friends. Able and Neville had accepted him seamlessly; the three of them made a better, more solid trio than he, Hermione and Ron could ever have. Sarah and Hermione were great friends. Harry and Hermione were great friends. Harry and Sarah had a strong friendship. Sarah nearly worshiped Able, but only so far as he'd been teaching her some really cool charms for art. Hermione and Neville were quickly forming a symbiotic relationship: homework help in their respective strong subjects in exchange for mutual support in social activities that they both found so hard. Harry loved these friendship dynamics.

Neville's greenhouse was extraordinary! Sarah was instantly a goner. She wandered through the blossoming plants, a muggle pencil rolling from one hand to another, her eyes trying to take in everything and file it away for later. Hermione followed Sarah's lackadaisical path through the greenhouse, determined to keep the girl from touching any dangerous plants.

That left the boys together. "Are you guys," Harry started, the stopped, wondering if it was okay to bring up this topic. They didn't really talk about feelings that much. "Okay and all?"

Neville looked down.

"In truth?" Able muttered. He leaned against a table and looked down at his younger friends. "Part of me is glad it happened. In the reality, I just ignored my sister; I didn't have any relationship with her at all. In the made up world, I treated her horribly. Now, I feel like I've been given a second chance to have a positive relationship with Romilda. But— yeah, I missed being friends with Neville and you and the play. And, I don't know, but the past real month, Gryffindor felt more like a family too me. I want that to continue."

Neville mumbled some sort of agreement. Harry didn't say anything. After a while, Neville stopped kicking at the greenhouse dirt and looked up at his friends. "It hurts, you know. Mentally, I know it's all lies, just a demented dream, but it still hurts what I remember about the past month. Especially how Ron behaved… and… I don't know. I can't help but feel betrayed. Again."

Harry knew exactly what he was talking about. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Nev."

The Longbottom's face snapped to Harry's, his bright eyes searching for some further affirmation of what he'd just said. "Oh."

"I won't voluntarily betray you, Neville," Harry promised, fiddling with the hem of his nice shirt. "Ever. Paradise says I'm too much of a Hufflepuff now. I think loyalty definitely has its benefits."

Neville grinned.

"Ehm," Able muttered, "I'm a little confused."

Neville and Harry looked at each other and laughed, and then Harry explained everything that happened that fateful night first year. That had been before he started to trust Professor Sinistra. That night, he'd been oh so foolish. But, by the time he finished relating his tale, Neville and Able were both gaping at him.

"But… but…" Able stuttered. "I heard the rumors and everything, but, eh. Really?! Fred and George couldn't have thought up that story if they tried!"

Harry laughed again. "Yeah, it was pretty spectacular."

"What about last year?" Neville prompted, "What really happened then?"

Harry stopped laughing. He kicked the ground a little, not wanting to think about that. "It… Well." Sarah and Hermione came over. They didn't say anything, almost instantly catching hold of how uncomfortable and out of place Harry felt.

Neville looked sheepish. "I'm sorry, Harry, you don't-"

"I should," Harry said. "I was so scared," he admitted, to his closest friends. "That year sucked. Classes sucked. I missed you, Hermione, more than I think I could handle. The nightmares-" Neville winced here "—weren't as bad as they could have been, but I didn't want to sleep. I heard voices in the wall, voices no one could hear. The school hated me. And I didn't have Hermione for support. I started walking around the castle at night, just trying to get away from it. That was foolish. But, Aurora caught me one night, and promised not to get me in trouble if I told her what was wrong.

"She helped," Harry said, "we spent a lot of time talking over the following weeks. Astronomy had been one of my favorite classes before; talking with her just, eh, I started doing really well. And then… and then Ron and I stumbled upon Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever. Then we overheard the professors saying it was Ginny. The two of us had figured out from Hagrid that a girl had died and that she'd never really left, so we went to Myrtle and confirmed that her bathroom was an opening to the Chamber of Secrets. Ron wanted to go rescue his sister. I convinced him to go tell Aurora. Aurora listened to us. She believed. She tried to convince the other teachers, but was taking too long. Dumbledore just dismissed her out of hand." Here, Harry simpered, moodily. He was still mad at Dumbledore for that. "He'd come back to the school when Ginny when taken, and he refused to help personally!

"So Ron and I went the Chamber. I ordered it open, with parseltongue, you know. And, it was horrifying. I was so scared. Ron miscast a spell, you remember how messed up his wand was? He caused a cave in. I was on one side, him on another. I went on. Ron stayed. It was… all I could think about was saving Ginny. I didn't even think about how big the basilisk was, or how, how," he struggled to find the right words. "She wouldn't wake!" He was near tears now. "I couldn't wake her up. And then Tom Riddle, the guy who'd been possessing her… Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom Marvolo Riddle!" Harry shrieked. "He summoned the basilisk. Fawkes and the Sorting Hat showed up. Without them, Ginny and I'd both be dead." His friends stared, not interrupting.

"The Hat gave me the Sword of Godric Gryffindor. Fawkes plucked out the basilisk's eyes. I stabbed it in the mouth. A fang went through my arm." Hermione gasped, her hands involuntarily coming to her cover her mouth. "But Riddle had pretty much done it. He'd stolen almost all of Ginny's life force. She was going to…" Harry choked, unable to say it. "The basilisk was dead. Ginny was almost dead. The poison nearly killed me. I took the fang, and I stabbed the diary. I don't know why I did it. But I stabbed the diary. It killed Tom Marvolo Riddle." Harry said the name with calculating slowness. He despised that name. "And Ginny woke up. She lived. And then Fawkes healed me. And then we made it out of the chamber."

Harry scratched Tom Marvolo Riddle into the dirt of the greenhouse. Hermione cocked her head, staring at the letters with a contemplative expression. "Fawkes flew all three of us out of the chamber. Dumbledore was there. Aurora was livid." Harry continued. "And Ginny… she was just so quiet and pale and… in the fabricated memory, she was just fine, showing no after effect. Neither was I. How could either of us forget that horror? How… She hates me," Harry said, not really keeping the train of his thoughts in order. "I don't either of us really have a chance with dealing with those memories. I saw a boy… not much older than Kenneth… implode. Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

"Harry," Hermione was the first to interrupt. "What's the importance of the name?"

Harry swallowed. "It's an anagram."

Hermione inhaled, the breath hissing through her throat. "Voldemort is in there. And… and Lord. And M-A-I."

Sarah and Able looked scared of their minds, not use to dealing with such horrific things, at all. Neither of them had been with him the first year. Neither of them were Neville, who at least had an inkling of what life for Harry was like. Neville understood the nightmares. Harry just hoped this wouldn't scare Sarah and Able away.

With his foot, Harry scratched the other version of the anagram into the dirt. "I am Lord Voldemort." Hermione stared at it, shaking a little.

"Harry," that was Neville, "his name is… Riddle? That's not… what house is that? What—" He was nearly panicky.

"I looked it up," Harry said, "In the Hogwarts registry. Riddle was… was, I think a halfblood. Slytherin. That's what he was registered as. A halfblood. I looked for Marvolo too. I couldn't find it," the kid said, close to miserably. "Why can't Voldemort just leave me alone? Why can't Black and every one of these villains just leave me alone?"

It was Sarah who dared answer. "Because you're extraordinary, Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because you care. Because you're generous. Because you're good. They can't stand that. But you're stronger than them! You've beaten the unbeatable foes. You've got friends. Merlin, I bet all of Hogwarts would stand with you now! You're not alone in this Harry." She threw herself at him, wrapping her small arms around his neck, clinging to him like her life depending on it. Harry hugging her back. He buried his nose in her brown hair and eagerly accepted the comfort she providing.

The healing had begun. The cure had been administered. Harry Potter was quickly on the path to emotional health. And so were his friends. They would heal together. They would thrive together. Neville Longbottom journeyed the farthest.

"You all know I live with my Gran," Neville said, when Sarah and Harry relaxed their hug, "and I guess you guys should know… My mum and dad are in a permanent ward at St. Mungo's, being treated for insanity caused by long-term exposer to the Cruciatus Curse." He said it all in a rush. "And, they don't even know me, anymore. They've never known me. Bellatrix Lestrange and Barty Crouch Junior did it, right after the fall of Voldemort. And… yeah."

Hermione hugged him. He hugged her back. They would thrive. The five of them would succeed.

o.o.o.o.o.o

Vince replayed the conversation he'd had with Mena as he looked down at the third year in front of him. They'd each gotten one of the students to discuss the results of the previous days test with so that such things would stay private. And Harry, Harry's tests provided some anomalous readings. "Harry," Vince said, steeling himself for what was bound to be a harsh conversation, "I, uh, don't really know how to explain this, but according to our tests, you should not be able to perform magic."

Harry stared. "But I can." He'd read enough books on magical theory to have a general idea of how magic worked. And he had a niggling little feeling that what followed was going to mess with his head a lot.

"I know," Vince said. "And magic tests can be inconclusive." That was a lie. Vince knew that. But Harry didn't know that. Thankfully, oh so thankfully, Harry didn't know that. "So, we decided we'd ask if we could take a more physical test of your abilities, just to see what you're capable of. Is that okay with you?"

Harry nodded.

"Let's do this, then," Vince said. "Please do not be discouraged if none of these tests work. They are a baseline, only. You've discussed the application and use of Occlumency, I believe. Please try and shield your mind from my probe." Harry looked uncertain, but as he nodded, a willing determination crept into his eyes. Vince whispered a legilimens and sought to break into Harry's mind. He couldn't. The boy was fortified beyond believe but… Wait… Vince stared at the walls in Harry's mind. A growing anxiety settled in his stomach. That couldn't be… That was… Harry was not using walls of his own. Harry was using Vince's walls to keep the Legilimens out of his mind! That shouldn't be possible! Vince retracted the spell.

Harry blinked at him. "I didn't feel anything, sir."

Vince swallowed. "We can discuss things after the test, Harry. Now, are you familiar with the concept of metamorphmagi?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "Ruth Turpin's one. She can change her features and whatever to be whatever she wants."

"Try to do so yourself," Vince said, quietly.

"But I don't know…"

"Try."

Harry tried. Harry failed. The same could be said for an attempt at the animagus transformation, instinctual healing, instinctual warding and cursebreaking, self-guided mage sight, silent casting, wandless casting, empathy, beastspeak, eidetic memorization, ritualistic magic, and all other types of magic that Vince knew that he himself was not capable of doing. In two hours' time, Harry was exhausted and frustrated. He'd tried and tried and tried and he failed each and every time. The only one he had any marginal success with was empathy, and even that… Vince couldn't register much of a talent in that area of magic.

"Harry—"

"What now?" The kid snapped, obviously incredibly frustrated with his last failure.

Vince cast a whispered spell that flicked open the door. A young woman stood by the threshold, hoping from foot to foot. "You have met her," Vince said, "Auror Trainee Tonks. She trains a metamorphmagus student at Hogwarts." Harry just stood there, past the point of caring.

Tonks bounced cheerfully into the room. "Wotcher Harry."

"Try the metamorphmagus transformation once again," Vince instructed.

The fifth year glared at the healer, obviously not eager to fail at something he'd already attempted. Harry went cross-eyed, trying to remember if he'd ever overheard Ruth saying anything of value about transformations… Nope. Nada. He sort of remembered regrowing his hair after Petunia cut it once, but he did that unconsciously. Harry concentrated on a magical prickle in his scalp. He forced his hair to change. And it changed. How was… how was… Both Vince and Tonks looked at him, obviously curious. Harry looked back at them. "But, how? I couldn't do that earlier."

"Try a wandless spell now." Vince had gone to school with Tonks, both Hufflepuffs, him two years older. They kept in touch. He knew her talents.

Harry put down his wand and cast a wandless lumos charm. It worked.

"Tonks," Vince ordered, "leave."

She left. Vince had him try again. Harry could access the prickly feeling in his scalp, but he couldn't force his hair to change, or his ears to grow, or anything. He tried the spell again. It didn't work. Why wouldn't it work?!

Vince leaned against the wall of the room, watching the conundrum in front of him. Harry obviously had power. He knew the kid could cast, not only a patronus, but multiple patroni, and that alone made him a thing for the record book. But to be able to do that when magical scans said he possessed no knowledge! It was… dozens of theories whirled through Vince's head as to how it was even possible for Harry to, in essence, steal magic from others. The low-levels of empathy might have come from him hanging out with Katie Bell enough for the powers to seep into him. And… and… the emotion based magic? He hadn't tested the kid on that, operating under the assumption that Harry could do that, at least, would have been able to do with the proper instruction. But… It made no sense!

Healer Mena entered the room, not bothering to knock. "Well, Healer Kensington, how's it going?"

He didn't respond to her. "Harry, we're going to do the instinctual healing thing again." He cast an underpowered cutting spell at his hand, purposefully missing any major weak areas. Harry moved forward, put his hand on the healer's cut, and willed it shut. It didn't work very well, but there was a noticeable decrease in the size of the cut. Before, he couldn't even make a difference! Mena raised a highly stenciled eyebrow. Vince cast a healing spell at his hand, sealing the cut and keeping it from scarring. "It's… odd," Vince said, looking down at the little boy. "He's not using his own magic. He's using… other people, or something along those lines."

Harry blinked.

Mena blinked.

Vince paced. "I can't explain it! He can do emotion based magic, and that would normally show up on the scans, right? He can't do anything that normally comes up. Anything! But then pull a metamorphmagus who just happens to be capable of wandless casting and boom! He can change his hair and he casts a wandless lighting charm. Healer Mena, it doesn't make sense!"

Mena blinked.

Harry blinked.

"And the empathy thing!" Vince continued pacing. "I could hypothesize that it came from exposure to Katie Bell's talent, but why not gain low-level metamorphmagus activity from being around Miss Turpin? It could be time activated, I suppose, and Miss Bell has played a larger role in Harry's life than Miss Turpin-"

"If that is the thinking," Mena said, factually, "he should have picked up Miss Granger's minor eidetic abilities. Her gift may be too miniscule for Mr. Potter to pick up on."

"Argh!" Vince growled, still pacing. "It could be that empathy is usually considered an unconscious art and metamorphmagus is a conscious art that can be mastered to the point of unconscious ability! As for the eidetic, how minor was it? Bell is strong. Turpin is strong. Those are the only examples that… no… Weasley. The eldest one, what's his name. He went into cursebreaking. And, this doesn't make sense!"

Harry bit his lip, trying not to be terrified about how Mena and Kensington were theorizing about his magic. "I haven't spent much time around Bill."

Vince stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair. "How do we test this? Does he take lessons with Tonks and Miss Turpin to see if, after he's spent more time exposed to metamorphmagi, can he master the skill without them present?"

"That has the variable of two versus one," Mena pointed out. "He may want to take lessons with either Miss Turpin or Miss Tonks, and that would provide more conclusive data."

"Um," Harry managed, "what are we talking about?"

"Mastering magic," Mena said, stoically. "Making it yours. If you truly steal – that is a negative word, let us use learn – instinctual, innate magic from other people with the ability, than you could become a wizard like no other!"

Harry shifted. Nervously. For most of his life, all of his life even, he'd just wanted to be normal. But still, being a metamorphmagus sounded so cool. And instinctual healing would be really beneficial. And the ability to see magic. And the animagus ability?

"Oh…" Vince said, blinking. "Professor McGonagall is an animagus. That ruins the exposure by time…"

"Again," Mena said, "that is a more conscious art. Mr. Potter may need to actively try and learn something of that nature." Both of the healers looked at the young boy. It was Mena who muttered, "So, Mr. Potter, what do you think?"

"I want to do it," Harry said, confidently now. "I think it could just be a wild theory, but I'm not a healer. You're the experts! I want it to work."

Magic. Wonderful, glorious magic.

But Mena wasn't done. She called Tonks back into the room and asked Harry what his least favorite animal was. "Pigs and spiders." Dudley and Aragog. Perfectly reasonable. Mena transfigured a quill into a small spider and put it, immobile, on the floor. Harry stared at the spider, completely unsure of what she wanted him to do.

"Healer Kensington told you that while you are in this class, you are exempt from underage magic laws if a purpose for casting said magic can be justified?" At Harry's nod, Mena continued, "In the same manner, you cannot be persecuted for the spell I am about to ask you to cast. Right, Auror Trainee Tonks?" It was a grim nod that came from Tonks, but a nod all the less. Neither she nor Vince seemed to have an idea what Mena was going to ask of him. "Harry," Mena said, slowly, "are you familiar with the Unforgivable Curses?" Tonks' eyes narrowed. Kensington cursed. Harry just nodded. It was all in the storybooks, at least at first. Then he'd verified it with Emma and Hermione. "Do you know the incantation for the Cruciatus Curse?" Harry nodded. Both Tonks and Kensington cursed and Vince made a move to interrupt, but Mena held up a hand and he stopped. "Remember, that spider there is not alive. It's just transfigured. Please cast the Cruciatus Curse on the spider."

Harry's hand slicked with sweat. He didn't want to do it. Neville… But… the boy drew a hissed breath in through his teeth. He changed his grip on his wand and pointed it down at the little spider. "Crucio." He couldn't bring himself to say the word loudly, or even with much force, but… His scar hurt. The skin around it seemed to burn, but it wasn't really, it was just in his head. His scar hurt. The spider screamed. Where the screams just in his hand? Harry's wand clattered out of his hand, hitting the ground with a decisive thud. In a few seconds, Harry had regained control of his thoughts and feelings and was cognate enough to look up at the three adults.

"He didn't mean it," Tonks whispered. She sounded horrified. Harry quivered. "He didn't mean it and it still worked!"

On the floor was a limp, used up quill.

Healer Mena pursed her lips. "I believe we may need to perform more tests on your scar, in specific, Mr. Potter. It fits our theory that he can cast such magic because of exposure to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That connection is likely your scar." Tonks and Vince winced, both utterly terrified now. Harry bent and picked up his wand. His stomach twisted in revulsion, but he couldn't honestly say that he was surprised. It was just life now, nowadays. Nothing new could surprise him. He wouldn't be surprised… Harry started to shake.

Magic. Horrible, deadly magic.