*** THE PAST, HARRY'S FIRST SCHOOL DAY, 1983 ***
Harry was so excited! He could finally go to school and learn more than he could at home! And Magic would always be with him, he just knew it! From what Magic's knowledge told him, it was four in the morning, but Harry was too excited to fall back asleep after he woke. It was going to be his first day at school, his first day learning new things! Though he was a bit apprehensive and nervous about how he'd be dealt with, the excitement of the new experiences was overshadowing that, and he could just imagine walking through the halls with Magic holding his hand and guiding him where he needed to go, calmly teaching him and learning with him just like she always had. Filled with excitement and eagerness, Harry jumped from his bed and straight into Magic's arms, hugging her tight.
"It's going to be so much fun!" He said quietly with a wide grin.
Magic only held him close, patted his back, just like he wanted. Standing to his feet, Harry reached around Magic as she still hugged him, and grinning, said, "We'll have to make you look nice for the school."
"Do as you wish." Magic placidly stated in reply.
Still grinning, and thinking about how nice he would look with pretty Magic next to him, Harry ran his fingers through her hair, though felt no tangles at all. He patted her head and made sure her hair was smoothed out, ran his hands over her robe and made sure there were no wrinkles in it, then he dressed in his own clothes. Because he wanted her to, Magic ran her hands over Harry's clothes to smooth them out too, then he sat on the bed, heart beating with excitement as Magic knelt in front of him and took his hands.
Though he was only sitting, thinking, and holding Magic's strong hands in his, breakfast time came sooner than he thought. Sitting at the table next to Magic, Harry enjoyed his breakfast until Dudley kicked him under the table.
"Ouch!" Harry said. "That hurt!"
"Serves you right!" Dudley responded.
"Enough of that, now." Uncle Vernon stated in his gruff voice.
"Aunt Petunia, I've been looking forward to this all morning!" Harry said with a grin, not wanting to keep his excitement between just he and Magic anymore. "It's gunna be great going to school with Magic and..."
"No." Aunt Petunia stated, interrupting him.
"No, what?" Harry asked after a few seconds of silence.
"Magic will not be going with you." Aunt Petunia replied.
"But I thought that..." Harry began, feeling all of his excitement, his plans, falling to pieces right in front of his minds eye. He blinked, feeling his throat closing up, tears forming in his eyes. He really, really didn't want her to stay behind.
"I do as Harry wishes, and I'll be going with him." Magic stated.
Harry let himself feel a bit of hope. Magic would never abandon him, would never leave him alone, and would never do anything he didn't want. Aunt Petunia's next words dashed his hope, though, and he felt the sadness creeping in again.
"You want to be cleaning, boy? If not, then she stays here." Aunt Petunia's voice was almost angry, almost snapping at him.
"Why can't she go?" Harry asked.
"Because, boy, she's so abnormal with that calm, that robe that never changes, the way she does everything you want, no! I won't have her going with you, she can learn at home!" Aunt Petunia snapped.
"But... She's my... Best friend..." Harry said, starting to cry.
"And she can stay that way here!" Aunt Petunia responded. "She won't be going, boy, unless you want to be cleaning this house when you get home, and I know how you don't like scrubbing. So what's it to be, boy? Enjoy Magic when you get home, or clean. You decide. And don't you tell anyone about her, either, I don't need the neighbors nosing around."
Harry felt a mixture of anger and sadness, and flung himself into Magic's lap without hesitation, and without hesitation, her arms wrapped around him in the lovely, unemotional embrace that he wanted. He started crying into Magic's shoulder and wanted to angrily lash out with his magic, to break something, but felt a bit of fear in remembrance of the last time he'd done something like that, and had been forced to sit still for hours with Uncle Vernon watching him and ensuring he wouldn't move. He didn't want to repeat that, so he didn't do anything but enjoy Magic's physical presence and desperately cling to her, not wanting to let her go. As he wanted, Magic's hands rubbed up and down his back, and she said calmly, "I'm here with you. Hug me tight if you wish." Harry did, and a few minutes later, was aware of Aunt Petunia cleaning up what was on the table, but he didn't care that he hadn't finished most of his breakfast, he just wanted Magic. But the Dursley's had taken that away from him, too.
"All right, boy, let her go. Time for school." Aunt Petunia said.
Harry, still crying, let go of Magic slowly. She didn't let him go until he physically pushed away from her, feeling an almost physical pain stabbing through his heart at their separation. As he started to walk away from her, he called back, "Don't abandon me!"
"I'll be here when you return." Magic responded sedately.
Harry entered the back of the car with dread, and felt even worse when Aunt Petunia started it up and began to drive from the driveway. He could feel the flame within him stretching, almost painfully so, and instinctively knew that his distance from Magic was increasing, that he wouldn't have her knowledge at this new school. His previous excitement was gone, replaced by only a deep sadness that Magic couldn't enjoy it with him.
"Potter can't take his girlfriend! Potter can't take his girlfriend!" Dudley sang, but Harry didn't care.
Aunt Petunia dropped them off at school, and Harry felt so hollow and empty, with his flame uncomfortably stretched within his chest. He slowly followed Dudley's footsteps as he skipped up to the school, finding the path with a cane he'd been given by Aunt Petunia, who had gotten it from someone at the public school. He didn't quite know how to use it yet, but he swept it from side to side and could feel where the sidewalk was with it. As he slowly walked, the hot tears of sadness rolled down his cheeks, and all he could think about was how he missed Magic's knowledge, but much, much more, he missed her presence with him, felt a physical ache in his chest, a deep need for her to be with him, but he knew what would happen if she was, and he really didn't want to clean. The conflict was almost painful within him, but a soft voice brought him out of his reflection.
"Hey. Harry. Are you okay?"
The woman spoke gently, understandingly, and Harry didn't even care how she knew his name. He only saw someone who would understand him, but he remembered that he couldn't tell anyone about Magic. He moved toward the woman's voice, though, and felt her arms wrap around him in a hug.
"I want to go home!" He cried into her shoulder as she patted his back and her arms wrapped around him.
"It's okay, Harry. It's okay." The woman said softly. "Everyone's always sad on their first day."
She didn't understand, though, Harry knew. No one could understand. Magic was his best friend and he really wanted her with him, and since that couldn't be, he just wanted to be back home with her, hugging her or playing with her hair or just sitting next to her, even if she didn't talk to him. He could almost hear Uncle Vernon's voice in his mind as he spoke with Dudley, telling him that he needed to have a stiff upper lip, and telling Harry that real men didn't cry. He blinked the tears from his eyes and struggled to calm down.
"That's it, Harry." The woman said as she slowly let him go. "Do you want me to hold your hand as we go inside, hmm?"
"Yeah." Harry choked out, wanting some type of physical contact with someone, since he couldn't have Magic's, and the Dursley's certainly didn't give him much. He felt the woman's hand take his, and clutched it.
"My name is Sharen." She said as they started to walk, and Harry held his cane vertically, though hardly felt it in his hand. "I'm here to teach you your braille skills and how to use that cane, and other things, too, if you need."
"You're here... For me?" Harry asked.
"Yes." Sharen responded gently. "I'm here for you."
She reminded him so much of Magic, Harry thought, because she'd always say things similar to that. It made him realize that she wasn't with him and he choked out a bit of a sob again, though tried to pull it together.
"Are you going to be okay, Harry?" Sharen asked.
"Yeah." Harry responded, though his voice trembled. He couldn't wait to get back home.
Harry wanted to do one thing when he got back home, and that was be held by Magic. He, sitting in the back of the Dursley's car again, felt the distance between he and Magic decreasing, felt the stretched flame within him growing more comfortable, not so stretched. When the car stopped in the drive, Harry quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.
"No running!" Aunt Petunia warned, and he knew she was talking to him.
Harry forced himself to walk toward the door, even though Dudley ran without Aunt Petunia saying a single word to him. He was used to these things about his cousin, but didn't care anymore. He just wanted Magic. The pain he felt stabbing through his chest was that of sadness that he couldn't run to her like he wanted, that she wasn't coming to meet him. He felt a brief sense of betrayal until Aunt Petunia spoke.
"The girl's in your room. She's to stay there until you got home unless you wanted her to be cleaning and not spending time with you. So shut the door and don't bother us with your ridiculous celebrating. And don't run up the stairs."
Harry heard her words and would listen, but knew that when he was with Magic, everything would be okay again. He entered the house, took off his shoes, and walked up to his room. His heart beat quick and he felt an almost physical need to be picked up and held close and told that everything was okay. He stepped into the room and closed the door, and felt Magic's strong arms sweep him up, her left behind his back, her right under his legs. His arms wrapped tightly around her as she rocked from side to side like he enjoyed, and her placid voice stated, "Everything's okay. I'm here now, and we're together. You're okay."
"I hated it!" Harry said as he burst out into tears again, wrapping his arms as tightly around Magic as he could. "I don't ever ever want to do that again!"
"School is every day, so you have to do that again." Magic replied, and it was a truth he hadn't wanted her to voice, but also needed to hear. "But I'll be here waiting for you every day."
"Promise?" Harry asked, feeling scared that she'd turn out like the Dursley's, and that so much time apart would make her not like him anymore. He wanted to hear some comforting words, but didn't know what he wanted. He knew Magic would know, though.
"I'll always do as you wish, Harry." Magic replied, and Harry found himself starting to smile a bit.
"Will you just hold me Magic, stay with me..." Harry sobbed.
"I'll hold you and stay with you, and you hug me as tightly as you wish." Magic replied, then added, "And tomorrow when you go to school, be brave for me. Can you be brave?"
Harry realized it was exactly what he'd wanted her to say, what he'd wanted, needed her to ask. He felt a determination starting to settle in him, and said in a voice that still trembled with some sobs, "Yeah... I'll be brave for you."
"It's okay to be sad." Magic stated, and Harry realized he'd needed to hear that, too. "It's okay to cry. Hug me and cry." Harry did so, and while it was still sad when he went to school the next day, the hope that he'd have her back when he returned home kept him going.
*** July 24, 1991, After Diagon Alley ***
"So, Magic, what do you think?" Harry asked as he sat behind his desk in his room, grinning at the thought of Magic being with him at Hogwarts.
"I'll be with you to do as you desire." Magic responded. "The robes appear normal in Diagon Alley, therefore, my state of dress is appropriate."
"But it won't be like the first time I went to public school, not at all." Harry said, feeling more excitement pouring through him. "I won't have to leave you behind this time."
"No." Magic agreed.
Harry silenced the room with a thought, and after he felt the magic of the sound blocking barriers go up, he stood from his desk and walked toward Magic, heart pounding. He then gripped her hands in his and jumped up, shouting, "Hogwarts, here we come! Me and Magic, together! Yes!" Still gripping hands, both he and Magic spun around until Harry got dizzy and fell, laughing. Magic sank to the floor and he felt her pull him into her arms, smiling in contentment.
*** July 31, 1991 ***
Harry woke early on his birthday to the sound of tapping at the window. He blinked his eyes open and sat up, yawning. The tapping at the window sounded again, and Harry climbed from bed, moving to the window. Carefully, he pulled it open and felt something soft brush his hand, air move past one of his ears. He could hear flapping as well, and a light clatter on his desk. Through Magic, he realized the thing that had flown into his room was an actual owl. Turner had been speaking literally when she'd spoken of sending him the trunk via owl, then, Harry thought curiously.
Harry moved to the desk and gently touched the owl, finding the package tied to one of the owl's legs. After untying it, he said, "Thanks." The owl hooted, nipped at his finger making him jump, then flew out the window. Harry closed the window behind it, then unwrapped the trunk, which was again the size of a wallet. He held the keys in his hand for a moment, put the trunk on the floor, then expanded it and checked out the forth compartment. His books were in a room that he climbed down a latter to get to, on the shelves arranged by subject and alphabetically, though they looked almost like print books. Harry pulled one of the books out and began to read it quickly, noticing that there were far more pages in the book than he thought there would be for a braille book, though he paid it little attention.
At six o'clock, Harry shut off the alarm on his watch, which was a gentle ping that would increase in volume if he didn't deactivate it. After marking his place in the book with a bookmark, Harry closed it and placed it carefully back in the trunk. He closed that as well, shrunk it, then placed it under a loose floor board under his bed that he'd discovered a few years ago. The Dursley's never bothered to look for it, though, and he'd stored some broken toys there that they wouldn't allow him to have otherwise. Though he could always create toys with Magic, Harry also enjoyed real, material objects that he didn't create, repair, or modify in any way as well.
Harry went down to the kitchen with Magic following, performing the routine of cooking for the Dursley's. They ignored him for the most part now, sometimes speaking of how they wanted to be rid of him for quite some time, as well as how glad they were that they wouldn't have to pay for his schooling any longer. Harry had asked Uncle Vernon if he'd get a ride to Kings Cross station on September first. Uncle Vernon had initially told him to find his own transportation, but after Harry had told him an investigation would be launched if he didn't arrive after saying he would, which would include more people he didn't want in the house, Uncle Vernon grudgingly agreed. To be safe, Harry wanted to be dropped off by ten, and was looking forward to the first day of the school year, though his initial excitement had mostly warn off after the first couple days. Mainly, he suspected that was because he didn't sleep much at all, and had eventually gotten so tired one day that he'd drifted off to sleep in bed, and when he'd awakened, didn't feel as intense an excitement as before. It was still there, though different.
After Harry finished eating and washed all the dishes, he returned to his room. After locking the door, he resumed reading his school books, knowing it was probably a good idea to get a head start. During the evening, however, Harry checked out the fifth compartment, which was his small apartment. He found everything he'd need to live in the trunk should he want to, though the fridge didn't have any food. Other than that, along with the bathroom not containing soap and other toiletries, he was set. Harry decided to stock everything up with his personal preferences later, and as he'd walked around the apartment within the trunk, he felt the magic used to create it, confident he could duplicate it if he needed to. Feeling such a thing, which usually only occurred when he used magic to create something, transport a piece of food or an object, or Magic herself, from one place to another, made him grin, as he knew he hadn't personally made this type of magic. It was a new and exciting experience for him, and as Magic entered the apartment due to his desires, he hugged her tight for a brief moment.
"Comfortable little place here, isn't it?" He asked, sitting down on the comfortable bed.
"You find it comfortable." Magic stated placidly.
"Well, guess I've got a new bed to sleep in at night." Harry said.
"A manual is on the desk for you." Magic stated.
Harry stood and walked to the desk, picking up the manual that Magic saw. He began reading it, and after finding the section he wanted in the table of contents, discovered how he could hear things from the outside of his trunk, in case someone was knocking on his bedroom door and he needed to leave. After climbing partly up the latter and closing the trunk's lid, Harry discovered that he could hear things from the outside, feeling for the raised letter S above him that he could press to make it silent within should he want that. Satisfied with what he'd found, Harry climbed down the latter and into the warm, comfortable bed, settling down to sleep. He smiled at the joy his gift brought him, and after resetting his alarm to five thirty in the morning, Harry quickly drifted off to sleep.
The rest of Harry's days until September first were spent reading his books, taking notes on things that seemed important, and familiarizing himself with everything that he had, including his trunk. When he woke on the first of September, Harry packed his dirty clothes in the wardrobe compartment of the trunk, still marveling at how the trunk cleaned and ironed his clothes for him after they were hung up, having also felt that magic, which thrilled him, as he'd have something else to duplicate. After double checking everything to make sure he'd packed everything he needed, Harry shrunk his trunk and put it in his pocket, then went down the stairs with Magic and waited for the Dursley's to wake. A few hours later, Dudley was dropped off at his school, Smeltings, then Harry and Magic were driven to Kings Cross and taken into the station by Uncle Vernon.
"Well, boy, know where your platform is?" He asked snidely.
"Nine and three quarters, the ticket says." Harry responded.
"Is that so." Uncle Vernon stated, leading him onward, which Harry thought was strangely kind of him. Magic constantly scanned her surroundings, and when they were between platforms nine and ten, Uncle Vernon turned toward them.
"Well, boy, seems like platform nine's to the left, ten to the right, and nothing but a barrier in the middle. I suppose they've not built yours yet, have they?"
Harry felt a cold pit of dread, wondering exactly what Professor Snape hadn't told him about getting on the platform. It was almost ten o'clock, though, which gave him over an hour to figure it out. Uncle Vernon was laughing, though, as he started to walk off.
"Have a good term!" He stated to Harry. Through Magic, he was aware of him leaving, and once he was out of sight, Harry sighed, heading toward the barrier.
"This is just great." He sighed to himself, tapping the wall in front of him with his cane and feeling some type of unfamiliar magic. "Well, I suppose I'll wait here."
Harry leaned against it and fell through, tumbling to the ground. Magic followed, her strong hands grasping him as she effortlessly pulled him to his feet. He heard the sound of what seemed to be a steam engine as he turned his head, listening to the surrounding sounds. He knew he was on the correct platform because of Magic, and could hear people chatting to each other, though there weren't many. Heart pounding with excitement, he laughed and said to Magic, "I got here by sheer luck, wow! And what cool magic! Anything you want to do before we need to leave in a little over an hour?"
"What you want to do." Magic stated, which was her usual response.
"Okay, then." He said with a grin, deciding to find a place to sit on the train.
As he walked and people became aware of his tapping cane, he heard conversations stop and silence fall on the platform. After finding the side of the train and an open door, he made to step up the stairs before his arm was grasped.
"Here." A man said, lifting him up.
"Hey! I can walk!" Harry shouted indignantly, pulling himself from the man's grasp and falling. His left foot hit one of the steps and he tumbled, slammed into the side of the train, and fell to the ground.
"I was only trying to help you, but if you don't want it, fine. Hurt yourself." The man stated in a cool tone, then walked quickly off.
Harry pushed himself to his feet, feeling his left ankle throbbing with pain and a bruise on the side of his face. Sighing, he touched the flame within him, but didn't use it, knowing that it was good for his body to heal itself every once in a while, and using his magic to heal him might not be a wise move all the time. Though it would exercise his own magic, it could also prevent his body from healing itself without magic in the future. Harry's knowledge of this came from a feeling he received with the use of healing magic, one of some feelings he'd received when thinking about, or experimenting with the use of magic. Why he received such feelings, however, he didn't know.
Magic was in the train ahead of him as he'd wanted her to be, and Harry made his way up the steps. As he turned left and headed toward the back of the train, he heard the man who had been helping him say, "Stay away from him, you don't want to associate with someone of that caliber." He sighed, but knew he'd need to get used to such ridiculous comments.
Harry eventually found a compartment and entered, sitting on the bench seat with Magic next to him. It wasn't long before the door opened, however, and he heard a girl speak in a cool voice.
"You are Harry Potter." She stated.
"Yes, but thanks for reminding me." He replied with a smile. "Who are you?"
"Daphne Greengrass." She stated.
"Want to come in and sit down?" He invited.
There was silence for a long moment, then he heard her enter the compartment, close the door, then sit down across from him.
"You are?" She asked, directing the statement at Magic.
"Magic." She responded.
"She's my magic." Harry explained. "She's very straight forward."
"Your magic." Daphne stated in a doubtful tone.
"Yeah." Harry said. "Do you want me to demonstrate that to you?"
"You have a wand, like all other students." Daphne stated. "I was correct in not associating with you to begin with. Clearly, half-bloods are little better than Muggles."
"Okay, then." Harry said with a resigned sigh. "If you choose to let prejudice run your life like so many other people, I won't stop you. You could learn a lot from Muggles, though, and me, if you bothered to get to know me. But, since you won't, bye."
Daphne shifted in her seat, and through Magic, Harry was aware of her cold, emotionless expression as she stared around the compartment and settled her gaze back on him. Harry didn't ask any questions, though, simply sat back and remained silent, allowing her to make her decision. After a moment, he got out his trunk, unshrunk it, opened the seventh compartment where he'd kept one of his school books on spells, took it out, then opened the book to his last place and began reading it, half way through. Harry pushed his trunk under the seat so it was out of the way, but accessible if he needed it, then stretched out his legs and leaned back. The only movement was his fingers as they ran over the pages, reading the bumps of braille on them. Daphne stared at him for a moment, but soon took out her own book to read. Silence was just fine, Harry thought to himself, reading about the charm that would be used to make things fly.
Though Harry liked reading the books, he found the use of magic described in the books to be extremely limiting compared to what he and Magic could do. He simply thought something, and through Magic, or his flame of magic within him, it happened. It wouldn't be difficult to make something fly. Compared to teleporting Magic, and possibly himself, or healing his injuries, that was quite simple. In fact, Harry didn't know a piece of magic that he couldn't yet do, though during his imagination, he'd often felt warnings with certain pieces of magic that he wanted to try, such as traveling back in time. Harry had done that once, remaining invisible and undetectable in the corner of his room, completely silent and not moving. It was frightening to be aware of Magic seeing Magic and him, and knowing that anything he did would cause a paradox, as he'd not remembered hearing any sounds or being aware of anything before going back into the past. He'd only gone back a minute, but had never repeated the experiment again due to his fear. He recognized the feel of it, though, and was fairly certain that he wouldn't have the same fear if he traveled back longer, moved to a place he hadn't been in his own past, then would have the freedom to do whatever he wished. He didn't, though, thinking long and hard through the implications of time travel with Magic, who had warned him to always be careful when achieving such feats of magic, either through the instinctive mental knowledge and warnings, or through talking with her, which ever he preferred.
Harry continued reading about the charms described in the book, thinking of how easy it would be for him to perform such charms. While the practical side of magic would be easy for him, he didn't imagine the theoretical side, essays, and explanations would come as easily. He might even be able to change people's minds on those with rare disabilities such as himself, though didn't think he wanted to set such lofty goals. He simply wanted to be himself at this school of magic, where he was free to use his abilities to their fullest extent, while continuing to practice the skills he'd need to use if he ever didn't have any awareness from Magic. It also served to keep his mind stimulated and thinking, so he knew that living as the completely blind person he was, without using Magic's awareness of things unless he needed it, was wise. It wouldn't due to stop using his mind, after all.
Harry continued to read until the train began to move, then closed his book and placed it back in his trunk. After shrinking it and putting it back in his pocket, he felt the movement of the train and listened to it as it went over the tracks, heard the page turning as Daphne continued her reading. Harry absorbed himself in the sound and feel of the train, as he'd never before been on one. He next heard a knock at the door, then it slid open a bit.
"Mind if I sit here?" A boy asked. "Everywhere else is full."
"I wish not to sully myself with the taint of a blood traitor." Daphne stated icily as she closed her book with a snap and stood up. Harry also stood quickly, feeling angry.
"Maybe you want to repeat that." He stated as he stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders, his voice angry.
"Release me, Potter." Daphne stated.
"I have had just about enough of these attitudes, Greengrass. If you don't want to be here, I'll escort you out myself." Harry stated.
"You couldn't see well enough to find those raised dots on your stupid book." Daphne responded, voice cool.
"When you decide you're going to be nicer, you can come back." Harry said as he pushed her toward the door, hearing the other boy moving out of the way. "Have fun."
Once she was beyond the door, Harry slammed it shut, his heart pounding. Sighing, he spun around and made his way back to the seat, though slammed his shin into it before he turned around and sat without a sound of pain, even though he felt it. After a few moments, the other boy spoke.
"Uh, mate... You okay?" He sounded awkward.
"Just a bruise, I'll be fine." Harry said as he heard him carefully sit down across from him. Taking a few deep breaths, Harry then asked, "So, what's your name?"
"I'm Ron Weasley." He said, then gasped. "Are you Harry Potter?"
"Yes, I am." Harry said with a sigh. "And please, please don't go on and on about my blindness and what a poor, poor boy I am. You do, and I'll just ignore you."
"And who are you?" Ron asked, directing the statement at Magic beside him.
"Harry Potter's magic, called Magic." She responded.
"What?" Ron asked with confusion.
"She's my magic, and she's called Magic." Harry said. "I know you probably don't believe me, and probably think I'm mentally unstable or other nonsense."
"No, well... It's strange. I've never heard of anything like that before." Ron responded, sounding as if he was uncertain how to react.
"At least you're not dismissive and insulting." Harry said with a sigh, leaning back in the seat. "I'm sorry, I... I've just dealt with a little too many antiquated attitudes toward blindness today. Sorry if I snapped at you."
"That's okay." Ron responded, and after a few moments, asked, "So... Do you remember anything about that night?"
"What night, exactly?" Harry asked in return.
"You know, the night? With you-know-who?"
"I don't remember anything, no." Harry responded. "Magic does, though, she remembers everything we experience."
"Could you tell me what happened, Magic?" Ron asked eagerly.
"Yes." Magic stated.
There was a few moments of awkward silence before Ron said, "Will you? I mean, I've always been curious."
Harry didn't mind hearing the story again, as Magic had told him before. He expected she'd reply, and just as he thought, she did.
"It was the evening of the day I became." Magic stated, her voice calm, placid, her speech direct. "The killer broke into the house, the door blown open with a bang through the use of Magic. James Potter shouted to Lily to get Harry out, but was murdered through Avada Kedavra, a green light that killed him. The killer was laughing and intercepted us as Lily carried Harry and tightly held my hand. The killer said, "Let me go, girl, and step aside." His voice was coolly calm and his red eyes glared with malicious intent. Lily shouted, "No!" She was desperate, and attempted to back away from him to save us. The killer coldly stated, "You need not die, girl. Hand over the boy and your treachery will be forgiven. I will not warn you again." Lily placed Harry on the ground, let go of my hand, then jumped over Harry and stood in front of him, shouting desperately, "Kill me instead, don't kill him! Please!" The killer called, "Stand aside!" Lily desperately shouted, "No! Kill me, not him, spare his life!" Again, Avada Kedavra was announced by the killer and the green light flashed, killing her. The sacrifice that still protects Harry today was made by an act that showed more love and kindness than anyone had, something the killer didn't understand, and would lead to his defeat."
Harry grasped Magic's hand in his and she firmly returned the grip. Through her knowledge, he was aware that Ron was looking sick, perhaps no longer wanting to hear the story. He didn't want to show that particular advantage yet, though, so Magic continued with the story he'd heard many times before. It didn't bother him. In fact, Harry found it to be encouraging that his parents would die for him, to protect him against the one who attempted to kill him, though he sometimes wished they were alive. As he thought about that, he remembered the first time he'd heard the story from Magic.
*** FLASHBACK ***
"Are you ever going to break anything like that again, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry, who had been sitting in a chair for what felt like hours after he'd lashed out angrily with his flame of magic, having shattered a glass on the table. He'd been angry that Uncle Vernon wouldn't let him play with one of Dudley's toys, and while Magic had gone back to his room, Harry had been sitting in the chair with Uncle Vernon watching him. Magic wasn't with him, and he was crying, no longer angry but sad.
"No Uncle Vernon!" Harry cried, sobbing.
"Good." Uncle Vernon stated. "You can get to your room and no running, boy."
Harry, fearing more punishment, did as Uncle Vernon told him, walking up to the room. Once he was inside the room and the door was closed, Magic's arms wrapped around him and he leaned against her, crying loudly.
"I want my parents!" He shouted desperately as Magic's hands rubbed his back in precise, repetitive motions. "Give me my parents back!"
"I can't." Magic stated calmly.
"Meany!" Harry shouted angrily, hitting her in his anger.
"They are dead, and the dead can't be brought back to life." Magic stated.
"Why?" Harry asked angrily. "Why did they die and leave me here! I hate them!"
"Aunt Petunia has said to Dudley that she'd die to protect him. Your parents died to protect you, and since Aunt Petunia has said she loves Dudley, your parents must love you." Magic stated. "They must have wanted you to live."
"But I just want them back!" Harry cried as Magic rocked him.
"I'll tell you how they showed their love." Magic said.
Harry sniffled as he cried, but didn't say anything in reply. Despite his emotions, he wanted to hear the story.
"There was a bad man who wanted you dead." Magic said. "He did everything he could to kill you. Your father tried to stop him and died. Your mother tried to stop him and also died, because she wanted to die in place of you. She didn't want you dead. The bad man tried to kill you, but I could hold the green magical light in my hand because your mother died to save you."
"How do you know that?" Harry asked angrily. "You didn't even try it before!"
"Before your mother protected you, the magical lights went through me, but since the green light didn't go through me after your mother protected you, I know that's what made me able to hold the light." Magic stated. "I didn't understand that when you were that young, but I understand it now because I've learned a lot more."
"But you'll be here, right?" Harry asked.
"Yes." Magic responded. "I'll be here."
"And... My parents... What else can you tell me?" Harry asked.
"The same magic that protected you from your mother's sacrifice keeps you very safe here." Magic replied. "Very safe from others who might want to kill you."
"But why couldn't my mother keep me safe alive?" Harry asked.
"Because she was very brave and protected you against the bad man." Magic responded.
"I wish I was dead and they were alive." Harry said.
"If you die, I'll die." Magic stated, and Harry didn't want her to die.
"No!" He cried. "Stay alive!"
"Okay." Magic said. "Stay alive and I'll be alive."
"Okay..." Harry sobbed. "But I wish they didn't die."
"I know." Magic responded. "I'm here with you."
Harry spent the next few minutes crying in Magic's embrace, but he soon asked a question.
"My parents really loved me?" Harry asked. "And that's why they died?"
"Yes." Magic replied. "They loved you and protected you, and are protecting you now."
Harry wasn't quite aware of what he felt or what he wanted, but Magic knew as she always did.
"It's okay to be sad, but be proud too, that they loved you so much. If they didn't love you so much, you wouldn't have been protected." Magic said.
"Help me remember." Harry choked out. "Please."
"I'll tell you the story whenever you want." Magic responded, and she had. He no longer hated his parents. It took him a few years, but Harry's mindset changed, and he came to look on the event in a different way.
*** END FLASHBACK ***
After remembering the memory, Harry waited for Magic to continue the story, finding himself curious to know exactly how Ron was going to take it, and marveling at how Magic had known how to present it to him when he'd been young. Her words now were quite different.
"Harry was laying on the floor." Magic continued. "He and I didn't understand what had happened, though as it's Harry's understanding I relied on, I simply did what he wanted. He was happy as I touched his face and hair gently, watching the killer that had killed his parents, not understanding they would never rise again. Avada Kedavra was shouted again, and the green light came, once again, from the killers wand. I always wanted to see if I could touch the lights that were made by wizards wands, and reached for it. Before this moment, I couldn't touch the lights, but this time, I could touch it, held it in my hand. I didn't understand at the time why, but now understand that Lily's sacrifice allowed me to do this, or the light would have gone through my hand. I looked down at it and Harry enjoyed the knowledge, the feel of the magic."
Oops, Harry thought, having forgotten that particular part of the story, that, in his undeveloped mind, he'd wanted it to change. Magic had revealed that about him, then, Harry realized, but showed nothing. Ron would probably miss it, though, Harry thought without much worry, though wondered if it would do any harm to reveal that anyway.
"The green light grew brighter, stronger, larger." Magic continued. "I assumed the killer wanted the light back, and was running from it as a game, because Harry thought it was a wonderful new game. I threw it at him and it hit him, covered his body, continued moving and made the front of the house explode with a loud sound that caused discomfort in Harry's ears. I healed them, and picked him up, humming and rocking him as he sucked on my long hair, falling asleep quickly, relaxed in my arms."
Ron gulped, then said in a trembling voice, "How is killing ever a game?"
"I was three months old at the time." Harry said. "I didn't understand hardly anything at all. I only knew that Magic was from my flame, the flame of magic I feel in me. She always did what I want, still does except when we went to test wands. She didn't like that, and didn't want to test them anymore. Anyway, I didn't understand things well at three months old, but from what Magic has told me, it was hard for me for a week after I was left at the Dursley's house, since I wanted my parents, but I came to understand later that I was protected from those who wanted me dead. It hasn't been the best environment there, but it was okay."
"How..." Ron gulped again. "How do you feel about... What happened?"
"Sad that my parents died, but mainly, I'm glad they protected me from death. I sometimes wish they were here, but I don't dwell on it." Harry said. "What about you, Ron, do you have a family?"
"Yeah." Ron responded quietly. "Maybe I shouldn't talk about it, though, it doesn't seem fair."
"What doesn't seem fair?" Harry asked.
"That... Well... My parents are alive." Ron replied hesitantly.
"Oh, please, it's a fact, something that I've come to accept. Mine are dead, and I can enjoy your family vicar... Vic... Ah, forget it. Through you, I can enjoy them. I'll have to ask Hermione about that word later on, I bet she'd know." Harry said.
"Who?" Ron asked.
"Hermione." Harry responded. "She's a very knowledgeable girl, maybe a bit of a know it all, but she's nice. She was the first one to treat me like an intelligent person, and now, you're the second."
"Well, seeing what you did with Greengrass... You can do things, you just can't see. I'm sorry about that by the way, mate. You don't know what you're missing." Ron said.
"No, I don't, and I don't miss something that I've never experienced. I just have a different outlook on life." Harry said. "Now, one thing I'd like to tell you, and please try to do this. You might want to help me with every little thing, but don't, not unless I ask for it."
"What about Magic?" Ron asked. "Can't you help him with everything?"
"Yes." Magic stated.
"That's not wise, though." Harry said. "That would only make me lazy, less reliant on the skills I can learn without her helping me. Sometimes, it's unavoidable and I actually need her help, but most of the time, I'll try something until I realize I can't do it without her help. Like cooking at the Dursley's house. Well, until I learned how to do it without her, that is."
"You know how to cook?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, I've gotten pretty good at it, too." Harry said. "Don't you?"
"My mother does that for me." Ron said, sounding more confident now, more comfortable than before. "She does it for the entire family of nine, actually. I bet she'd love to have you over, but she might want to help you with every little thing."
"I've come to expect that from people in the magical world." Harry said. "I just hope the teachers aren't the same way. Professor Snape wasn't that way when he took me to get my school things, though I admit, I probably provoked him into not helping me with anything at all."
"I've heard bad news about Snape." Ron said. "He apparently prefers the Slytherins over everyone else."
"Who are the Slytherins?" Harry asked.
"Slytherin, it's one of the houses in Hogwarts. There's four of them, the Weasley's have always gotten into Gryffindor ever since I can remember. And people like Greengrass, they're Slytherins." Ron explained.
"So, the prejudice bigots are in Slytherin, then." Harry said, though didn't think that himself. He stated it to see how Ron would respond, hoping it would help him know what kind of a person he was.
"Yep, and all the bad ones." Ron stated.
"Exactly why do you make that sort of generalization?" Harry asked.
"That sort of what?" Ron sounded confused.
"You put everyone in the same category like that, saying all Slytherins are bad and rude. It's like saying all blind people can't do anything, and that's clearly not true even though people think it is. Watch how people treat me and think about that, Ron, it's not a good attitude to have." Harry said.
Ron said nothing in reply, only looked out the window. Magic glanced out the window as well, and Harry received a flood of information about trees, fields, and the places they were passing as she looked out the window. The silence continued until he heard the sound of a rolling cart, then a clattering outside the door. It slid open, and a woman said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"
"No, I've already got mine." Ron mumbled, and Harry heard the sound of crumpling paper as he shut off his link of knowledge from Magic.
Standing, Harry made his way to the cart, keeping his balance as the train swayed slightly, though it wasn't something he was used to doing. As he approached where the woman was, he asked, "Got any Mars Bars?"
"No, I'm afraid not, dear." She responded.
"Well, this should be interesting. We'll have a little of everything, then." Harry said.
"That's eleven sickles." The woman said.
Harry announced the amount, pouring it into his hand from his money bag. The woman, after he'd announced it, had stared at him oddly and said, "That's right, dear."
"Oh, I was just getting it out of my bag here." Harry said as he held out his hand with the money in it, she taking it from him. "I'm blind."
The woman gasped dramatically and said, "Oh, you poor dear! Let me help you with these, then. I'll put them all in this nice bag here."
Rather than feeling angry, Harry found he felt a little amused as he heard the woman piling the candy in the bag.
"Okay, dear, now it's right in front of you." She said, talking to him like he was a small child. Harry didn't show his annoyance, simply took the bag."
"Thanks, ma'am, and please, I'm not quite so young. Have a good day!" Harry said in a chipper voice.
The woman sounded a little flustered as Harry closed the door, turned, then made his way carefully back to his seat. As he sat down, he reached into the bag and felt the various packages.
"So, Ron, want anything?" Harry asked.
"You just... Blew that off like it didn't happen!" Ron said, amazed. "Mate, I'd have been really annoyed by that."
"It was annoying, believe me, but what's the use in showing that?" Harry asked. "It doesn't do anything. That's why I don't like stereotypes, why I don't like saying or thinking things like, everyone in Slytherin is bad, or everyone in Gryffindor is good, or whatever."
"Yeah, I guess so." Ron said thoughtfully.
"So, do you want anything?" Harry asked.
"Na, I've got these sandwiches from my mum." Ron said, and Harry heard the sound of paper again. "And she made me corn beef again, I hate that."
"If you don't want them, I suppose I'll have them. You can have some of these things, whatever they all are." Harry said, holding out the bag to him.
"Trust me, you don't want these, they're all dry." Ron said.
"If I had something, anything at all, even if I didn't like it, and I knew it was from my parents, you can believe I'd appreciate it because of the work they were willing to go through for me." Harry said. "You going to give those sandwiches up, or eat them, mate?"
"I suppose I'll have them." Ron said after a long moment. "I guess I really should appreciate what I get from my parents."
"The only thing I ever got from them was... Well, the only things, rather... Their sacrifice for me, the money they left me, and I'd give it all up just to spend a minute, a second with them." Harry said, blinking some tears from his eyes before he took a deep breath. "Okay, time to dig into the mystery."
Harry grabbed something that turned out to be a pastry, handing it to Magic. As he got another and Magic unwrapped hers, Ron said with surprise, "You can eat?"
"That's obvious." Magic responded placidly.
"I didn't think your magic could eat, that's neat." Ron said.
"Yep, she can." Harry responded. "It helps Magic to be stronger than if it was only me eating, I think."
"Can she survive if she doesn't eat, would it make your magic weaker?" Ron asked.
"I don't know, never tried that, don't want to try it." Harry replied.
"What's eating like, anyway, Magic?" Ron asked. "Do you taste that pastry, or what?"
"No." Magic said after she swallowed.
"Then how do you know if you like it or not?" Ron asked.
"Harry likes it. I like it." Magic stated. "I want what Harry wants, like what he likes. I am a part of Harry that does what he wishes."
"So..." Ron hesitated a moment, then as he took a bite, said, "Wha do yow get fwom iw?"
"How about swallowing first, Ron, that's disgusting." Harry said in reply.
Ron swallowed, then said, "What do you get from it anyway, Magic?" He sounded a bit sheepish.
"The pastry contains flower, salt, butter, and water. Approximate measurements to make it would be one-hundred twenty-five grams of flower, a third of a teaspoon of salt, fifty-five grams of butter, and forty milliliters of water." Magic said sedately.
"Trust me, it's far more enjoyable when I describe it." Harry said with a grin. "Magic deals in exact precision, cold, factual knowledge, pure rationality without emotion, pure calculation."
"And she's been with you all your life?" Ron asked.
"Yes." Harry responded. "It might not seem this way to you, but Magic's my best friend, the only friend I've ever had since being introduced to Hermione and you."
"Wow." Ron said, sounding awkwardly amazed.
At that moment, the door to the compartment was pushed open and Harry heard a rather arrogant boy's voice state, "I heard Potter's in this compartment."
"That's me." Harry said as he turned his head to face the voice. "Can I help you?"
"You really are blind." The boy said. "Don't worry, Potter, I've got your back and I'll help you with that."
As the boy came quickly closer, followed by a second pair of footsteps, Harry said, "Help me with what, exactly?"
"I'll unwrap that for you, of course." The boy said, as if he was someone important.
"He can do that himself, he doesn't need your help." Ron spoke up suddenly, sounding angry.
"Oh, I should have known. A Weasley." The boy drawled. "Believe me, Potter, you'll be much better off with us. I can help you sort out the wrong sort of families, and the Weasley's, you don't want to hang with them."
"Well, let's tally up the stats." Harry said conversationally. "I've got Ron Weasley across from me, who's never said a bias word to me or tried to help me with something as simple as unwrapping a pastry, hasn't judged me based on some stereotype about me, and is willing to work on his own views. Then, we've got you, what's your name again?"
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." The boy said importantly.
Harry smirked, then stated in a low, intent voice, "I'm Bond. James Bond."
"What?" Malfoy asked in confusion.
"Oh, never mind. It's a reference from a muggle movie you probably wouldn't have seen." Harry said.
"Muggles, they're nothing but common trash." Malfoy stated.
"You..." Ron began furiously.
"Ron, no." Harry stated firmly, hearing him sigh. "Now, as I was saying. You have just proven my point with your very own prejudice. You've proven yourself unwilling to even get to know me, judge me before you meet me, call Muggles trash, and by the way I was raised by them, they're less helpful than you want to be. They actually know, unlike you, that a blind person can actually do things for himself. So, you've jumped in without even bothering to ask me anything! Why should I want to get to know a judging, prejudice bully such as yourself?"
"How dare you, Potter!" Malfoy shouted. "When my father hears about this..."
"Oh, here we go." Harry said with a bored sigh. "You must be a spoiled child type of person."
"You'll regret ever turning down my friendship, Potter!" Malfoy shouted angrily. "Crabbe, Goyle, Greengrass, let's go."
Harry heard three sets of footsteps leave the compartment, then Malfoy called, "Well, Greengrass? Come on!"
Harry recognized Daphne's voice when she stated quietly, "I have misjudged you, Harry Potter, and perhaps you as well, Weasley. Apologies." The door then closed and Harry felt his hands trembling a little.
"Well, that was fun." He said, trying to sound cheerful.
"You really took Malfoy down a peg, mate." Ron said, sounding amused and chuckling.
"I just met him, Ron. He might come around." Harry said.
"His family's a bunch of death eaters." Ron said. "You-know-who's lot."
"Really?" Harry asked firmly. "And I thought you were doing so well at trying to disregard those prejudice views of yours."
"Hey, at least I'm trying, I didn't say that to him!" Ron burst out suddenly.
"Look, I'm sorry." Harry said quietly. "I just... I don't want to see you going off and acting without thinking, is all, judging people before you meet them. That's happened to me, as you can see, and I don't like it much."
Ron sighed deeply, then said, "I know. I'll try, mate, but it's not going to be an instant thing, you know. I've grown up all my life hearing about things like that, people like Malfoy. I can't just let it go overnight."
"I know." Harry responded. "Believe me, I do. There was a girl at my muggle school. She never really became my friend, but she learned to stop helping me so much unless I asked for it. She was scared of Dudley's gang, unfortunately."
"Who's Dudley?" Ron asked.
"My cousin, someone else who's a bully." Harry said.
Ron said nothing after that, and while he finished his sandwiches, Harry opened a package of what looked like beans.
"Be careful with those." Ron warned him.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Those are Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and they mean every flavor, too." Ron said. "You've got all the normal ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe."
"Wow." Harry said. "Well, this ought to be an adventure."
Harry took one of the beans and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he felt like he was eating someone's vomit and spat it out onto the floor, his facial expression one of disgust. Ron was laughing.
"What!" Harry cried.
"Mate, you should have seen your face!" Ron said, then immediately called, "Oh... Oh, I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't worry about it, it's normal vocabulary." Harry said, shrugging it off. "Besides, what would you do if you felt like you were eating someone's puke? It was disgusting! Magic, here, eat these. Unless you want one or two, or maybe the entire bag. Ron, you want some?"
"Sure, I'll have some." Ron said, carefully picking out a handful of the beans from the bag before Magic obediently began to eat them one after the other, her usual expression of placid calm on her face.
"I've never seen anyone eat those like that." Ron commented. "Must be an advantage not to taste the flavor, just be aware of the ingredients and such."
Magic nodded in a motion that wasted nothing, and was just enough to get the point across that she'd done so. As she ate the beans, Harry opened something that smelled like chocolate.
"Now this should be better." He said.
"Oh, those are chocolate frogs, mate." Ron said. "They come with cards of famous witches and wizards, too, but you probably won't be able to read them."
Harry ate the frog and held the card in his hand, feeling the smooth paper and a strange, unfamiliar magic that almost felt like some type of imprint of a person. As he handed it to Ron, he asked, "Will you read that to me?"
"Sure." He responded, then said, "There's a picture of Albus Dumbledore on the card. He's got half-moon glasses, a long beard, and a crooked nose. He's waving at me right now."
"Waving?" Harry asked. "The picture's moving, like a movie?"
"What's a movie?" Ron asked.
"It's a Muggle thing." Harry replied. "It's got something on the screen that shows you a sequence of events, usually it lasts a couple hours. How long does that last?"
"Not long." Ron replied. "Just a couple seconds. Now Dumbledore's gone, he moved on, I guess."
"What?" Harry asked, surprised. "Your pictures leave, too?"
"Yeah, of course they do." Ron responded. "Did you think it would stick around?"
"Well, with Muggle pictures, they're still. They don't move. It just captures a single moment in time." Harry said. "Really boring if you ask me."
"Yeah, sounds like it." Ron responded. "Our pictures talk, too, some of them, anyway. Want me to read you the description on the back?"
"Go for it." Harry smiled.
Ron cleared his throat and said, "Okay, it says this. Albus Dumbledore. Currently headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling."
"Interesting." Harry said. "Well, you can keep the card if you want it, it isn't useful to me."
"Well, I've got about six of him." Ron said. "Anyway, mind if I have some of those?"
"How about those sandwiches of yours?" Harry asked.
"Oh, I've finished them." Ron said.
"Well, sure, then." Harry said, grinning and glad to share what he had. The feeling was something he'd never before experienced, and he found it enjoyable.
They had fun sampling the variety of candy that Harry had purchased, Ron explaining what things were to him, and reading him the chocolate frog cards. The minutes passed, the train going up and down hills, turning here and there, and going over bumps in the track. Harry found the entire train ride experience so far to be a unique one, as he'd only experienced the movement of a car. It was different to experience a train track, the feel of turns different than what he'd feel in a car. Where a car's turns were smooth, the train's turns were sometimes a bit like the train was being forced to turn a specific direction, and all the turns were wider than most he'd felt in a car.
For once, there was actually a polite knock on the sliding door after a while, then it opened and Harry heard a boy ask in a voice of sad desperation, "Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?"
"I'm afraid not." Harry responded.
"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" The boy wailed.
"I'm sure he'll turn up." Harry said comfortingly.
"Yes... Well if you see him..." The boy said in a miserable voice.
"We'll tell you." Harry said. "Good luck." The boy left, closing the door behind him.
"If I had a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I'm not one to talk. I brought Scabbers, my rat." Ron said.
"When did you get him?" Harry asked.
"He's been in my family for ages. He used to belong to Percy. Being in a family of six, I get everything second hand." Ron said.
"At least you get love. The Dursley's don't really show me that." Harry replied.
"Hey, want to see a spell?" Ron asked.
"Sure." Harry said. "Well, you can tell me what happens."
"Sure." Ron said casually, though sounded a little apologetic. He was trying, Harry thought. "So, I tried to turn him yellow, but nothing happened."
Harry heard him bend over, moving things around in what was likely his trunk. After a moment, he straightened back up.
"Here it is, got my wand. It's a little battered, but let's see." Ron cleared his throat, then the compartment door slid open again.
"Oh, Harry!" The voice of Hermione said with excitement. "I didn't know you'd be in here."
"Yep, just talking with Ron here." Harry responded.
"I don't suppose you've heard a toad around, have you? Neville's lost one." Hermione said in that familiar, bossy voice of hers.
"No, we haven't." Harry said.
"Oh, are you doing magic, then?" Hermione asked, likely directing her statement at Ron. "Let's see it, then."
She sat down next to Harry, as there was room on the seat. Ron cleared his throat a little nervously.
"Er, all right. Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." Ron said.
"Anything happen?" Harry asked.
"Nothing." Hermione said. "Are you sure that's a real spell? It's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and they've all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magical at all, it was such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased. Of course, it's the very best school of witchcraft their is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I'm Ron Weasley." Ron muttered.
"You know me, I'm Harry Potter." He said.
"And who are you?" Hermione asked.
"Harry Potter's magic. Call me Magic." She stated.
"I've never heard of that before." Hermione said. "Are you sure she's not playing some type of prank on me, Harry?"
"No, she isn't. I'll show you. Magic, turn Scabbers yellow, will you?" Harry said.
Ron gasped along with Hermione and Neville.
"Wicked!" He said, amazed.
"Okay, turn him back, now." Harry said.
"How do you do that?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you're blind. Well, I didn't mean that offensively or anything, but you don't know what yellow is, do you? Well, I mean, obviously you do, but how could you turn him yellow when you don't know what yellow looks like?" Hermione spoke very fast.
"Magic knows what yellow looks like, even if I don't. She can see even though I can't." Harry explained.
"Oh." Hermione said, sounding at a bit of a loss. "Well, you were right, you know."
"About what?" Harry asked.
"The books. I read about you in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. They got some of the details right I'm sure, but others they didn't explain well at all. They also don't seem to know that you're blind." Hermione explained.
"Figures." Harry said.
"Well, we better go and look for Neville's toad. You better change, too, I expect we'll be there soon." Hermione said, then left with Neville.
"Whatever house she's in, I hope I'm not in it." Ron said, throwing his wand into his trunk.
"Why not?" Harry asked. "I know her attitude's a bit rude, maybe, but I think she's covering up her own nervousness at being here. She probably doesn't want to look bad, so she's showing her knowledge, the only thing she's got."
Ron took a deep breath, then let it out.
"Maybe." He said. "I just... She comes off as bossy. Like you said earlier, a bit of a know it all, though I'd say more than a bit."
"Well, better get changed, I suppose." Harry said, putting his shrunken trunk on the ground.
"What's that?" Ron asked.
"It's my trunk. I got it at this shop for people like me. Oh... What was it called... Magic, help me out here. What was the name of that disabilities shop?" Harry asked.
"Specialty Magical Needs." Magic stated.
"Thanks. I knew I could count on you." Harry said as he unshrunk his trunk.
"Wow!" Ron said. "I want one of those!"
"I bet I could get you one." Harry said, opening the third compartment. Ron let out a gasp of amazed surprise as Harry took one of his school robes, then closed the trunk and put it on over his clothes.
"Wicked!" Ron breathed again.
Harry shrugged, shrunk his trunk, put it back in his pocket, then sat back down.
"Magic, do we match?" He asked as he turned toward her.
"No." Magic responded.
"What a shame." Harry said. "Oh well, doesn't mean too much that we don't. So, you said you had six siblings, did you, Ron?"
"Yeah." Ron responded. "Bill and Charlie are the eldest, and everyone but Ginny's gone to Hogwarts. She's my younger sister."
"So, what do your eldest brother's do?" Harry asked curiously.
"Charlie's gone to Romania studying Dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts. Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I guess you wouldn't get that living with Muggles. Someone tried to rob a high security vault." Ron said.
"What happened to them?" Harry asked.
"Nothing, that's why it's been such big news. My dad says it's probably a dark wizard who did it. They'd have to be powerful to get in and out without being caught." Ron explained. "Whenever something like this happens, people get scared. They think you-know-who's behind it."
"Yeah, who is you-know-who, anyway?" Harry asked. "I keep hearing that reference, but I don't actually know who that is."
"The one who killed your parents." Ron said.
"Yeah, but what's his name?" Harry asked.
"It's... Well, people don't say it." Ron said, shuddering. "It's scary."
"Why not?" Harry asked.
"You don't know how terrifying it was for people, mate. He-who-must-not-be-named did a lot more killing than just getting rid of your parents. People are afraid that if you say his name, he'll show up again." Ron said.
"Sounds like utter nonsense." Harry stated. "What is it?"
"I don't want to say." Ron said.
"Oh, come on." Harry said. "Look, I doubt he's going to show up, and I'm curious. Please?"
"Okay." Ron said, took a deep breath, then stated, "V-v-vo... I can't."
Harry let out a sigh.
"Oh, well." He stated. "Guess I'll just have to wait on that one."
"How about Quidditch, the sport for, magical... But, you wouldn't be able to play." Ron said, his voice glum.
"Tell me anyway, I'm curious." Harry stated.
"Well, people fly around on brooms." Ron responded. "There's seven people on each team that fly around this field, with three goal hoops on either end. One person blocks the three hoops while three others pass a ball back and forth, which is known as a Quaffle. If you get the Quaffle through the hoop, it's a score of ten points. There's a pair of beaters, too, who swing bats to intercept flying balls known as Bludgers. They fly around on their own, trying to knock players off their brooms. The beaters job is to hit them toward the opposing team, and block them from hitting their team members. With me so far?"
"Yeah." Harry said. "The three people that pass this Quaffle, what are they called?"
"Chasers." Ron said.
"Who's the last player?" Harry asked.
"That's the seeker. Their job is to look for the snitch. It's this little golden ball with wings, and if the seeker catches it, that team gets a hundred and fifty points." Ron said.
"Sounds like it would be fun to play, though I don't know exactly how I'd feel flying on a broom. And, since I can't see, watching the game would probably be boring." Harry said. "I've never been a fan of loud crowds, either, so I probably won't watch the games much."
"Why don't you like loud crowds, mate?" Ron asked as he moved things around in his trunk again, probably getting out his robes.
"Think of it like this." Harry said. "You see things around you, right, and you can tell one thing from another?"
"Yeah." Ron responded.
"For me, being in a loud crowd's like being in a place where everything looks the same, and everything's the same color. So you wouldn't be able to tell what's what." Harry said. "It's disorienting, and it makes my ears ring and hurt because it's so loud."
"I've never noticed that before." Ron said. "For me, it's fun, cheering on my team. We've had little get togethers at our house before, watching Quidditch on the wireless."
"The wireless, what's that?" Harry asked.
"Wizarding radio." Ron explained, pulling his robes on.
"Looks like we're coming up to Hogwarts." Harry said.
"How do you know?" Ron asked.
"I can feel the train starting to slow down. It's slight, and I'm not surprised you didn't notice it." Harry said.
"Wow." Ron replied, his eyes wide with amazement. "That's pretty cool you can do that!"
"I'll show you more cool things, like this." Harry said with a grin, pulling out his cane and letting it unfold.
"Wicked!" Ron breathed.
"That must be your favorite word." Harry said with a chuckle.
"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." Harry heard a voice echo throughout the train.
"This is it, then." He said as his stomach lurched with a combination of nervousness and excitement. Magic stood next to him, blandly looking around the compartment. Harry's heart pounded, and when the train slowed to a complete stop and he heard its doors open, he nervously started toward the compartment door.
"Do me a favor, Ron, and don't let me wander off in the wrong direction." Harry said.
"No problem, Mate." Ron responded. Together, the trio left the train with Harry in the lead, anticipating what Hogwarts would be like, and feeling a bit nervous to go to this magical school he knew nothing about.