MOMENTS

Happiness comes from…some curious adjustment to life

Hugh Walpole….

Two young boys were trekking, rather noisily, in the wooded area of the local park. The blond boy was in the lead, making his way across the thicket with nary a care for where he stepped or what he subjected his clothes to. His companion on the other hand had it much better; the raven-haired boy instead of pushing his way through like his larger cousin simply trailed behind, following the path being made by the child bulldozer.

Hadrian would have preferred staying at home with a book or two but his aunt had essentially kicked the two out of the house. She had muttered something about book club and coming home for afternoon tea; but Hadrian had barely paid attention due to his simmering. Dudley had suggested that they go to the park, which Hadrian readily agreed with.

It wasn't that he loved the park, nor did he hate the park; really it was a cool place to frolic about with friends. But in the past, he didn't like going there, what with his no having friends, thing. But now things were different, he had friends, of a sort; they were also Dudley's friends and only let him hang around because of that, but Hadrian did not care that much, it wasn't really important.

Back when he wasn't in their class, they had just been his cousin's friends; they had been civil with him but they hadn't been his friends. Now though he was part of their group, part of the gang, he liked being part of the gang. The reason why he didn't mind going to the park these days was because that's where the gang usually met up. He was looking forward to this at least until Dudley had the bright idea to change their impromptu plans.

"Are we there yet Dudders?" He broke into a roguish smirk as he heard Dudley huff and mutter things that seven-year olds weren't even supposed to know about.

"I wonder what auntie would say if she heard you right now." Hadrian mused innocuously.

"Prolly the same thing she'd say if she found out that you popped up onto the roof." Dudley turned to give a superior smirk to his shorter cousin who merely huffed in return.

"Aren't you always going on about being patient?" Dudley spoke turning around to look at his cousin.

"I'll be patient when we aren't lost in the forest." The dark haired boy muttered.

"We aren't lost. We just took the scenic route." The older boy defended, getting annoyed.

"What scene? Admit it you're lost. Tis why you can't tell me where we are going." Hadrian mocked, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Oh come off it! I never get lost, plus we are nearly there." Dudley spun around and continued pushing against the undergrowth.

Hadrian gave the back of Dudley's head a disbelieving stare.

"You said that back when we went past that patch of thistles and that was more than fifteen minutes ago!" Hadrian huffed, standing mutinously in place.

"Aha!" Dudley pushed past some bushes before performing what he thought was a graceful pirouette and gestured with his hands thrown widely to his sides. "We're here."

Here, as Hadrian found out, was a small clearing in the middle of the woods, the grass was soft under his feet and at the far end he could see and hear the faint bubbling of water; a stream. The sky above them wasn't as obscured by branches and leaves and he could see the blue of the sky broken by the occasional white cloud. It was a nice spot, tranquil and quiet.

"So…why are we here?" Hadrian asked leadingly.

Dudley rolled his eyes; but the grin still stubbornly refused to leave his face.

"Training." He said it as if that explained everything but then Dudley noticed that his cousin looked dubious. He gave a mental sigh; Hadrian was scary smart but he could be slow on the uptake sometimes.

"On her last visit, the scary Professor said that you would be able to do what she does after you had proper training." Dudley explained.

Hadrian looked at him curiously before smiling faintly, "You mean Aunt Minnie?" he asked laughing.

"Yes, the cat woman." Dudley agreed looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Professor McGonagall or as he called her Aunt Minnie didn't like Dudley very much. It had been Dudley's own fault really – getting too excited and spilling his melted ice cream all over the older woman.

It would not have been a big deal if Dudley had done it any other time; but on that occasion, Aunt Minnie had grudgingly showed them her ability to transform into an animal; a cat. Long story short, cats didn't like having ice cream dumped on their backs; who knew?

"Look, enough about the cat lady. Mom is always going on about how magic is a secret and we shouldn't tell anyone that you're a fairy or something…" Dudley grinned as he motioned towards his cousin.

"I am not a fairy!" Hadrian squawked indignantly.

"…this place is plenty far and hidden and you can practice." Dudley choose to ignore Hadrian's protests and continued as if he had not been interrupted at all.

Hadrian tried to his best not to pout as he thought about what Dudley had said. This clearing was pretty far; the chances of anyone finding them were pretty low. Plus, he had to admit that he had been wanting to experiment for a while now, but had been afraid of what his aunt might say if she found him. She didn't mind when it happened on its own but she didn't want him encouraging it. Still while he liked Dudley's idea there was one problem.

"Dudders, I don't have a wand." Hadrian smirked as Dudley's face went red at his hated pet name.

Dudley reined in his temper; biting his tongue to keep from lashing out at his cousin. He wouldn't give the jerk the satisfaction.

"Since when have you needed a stick to do all that? I've seen you do all kinds of stuff without one." Dudley pointed out slowly.

"You're right." Hadrian's tone was one of surprise which Dudley took offense to.

"Of course I'm right. I'm right lots of times." He gave a superior smirk before clapping his hands; delighting in how his cousin flinched in surprise.

"Get to it then. Start breathing out fire or something." Dudley waved his cousin off before plopping himself down in the grass to observe.

Hadrian gave his cousin a flat stare, his annoyance palpable.

"I'm not a dragon, you idiot! Plus, a fire in a forest? Are you daft?" Hadrian bit back annoyed.

"At least I'm thinking of things. Not like you; just standing there looking, looking short." Dudley fired back.

"Oh just shut up and let me think." Hadrian huffed, turning away.

Hadrian hated being called short, he hated being short. Everyone else was tall; Dudley, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Minnie, Aunt Petunia and even his mother had been tall. He hated being short especially if people pointed it out.

He took a deep breath to calm himself; he could feel that usual thrum under his skin; his magic. Every time he got excited or upset, he could feel that rush of energy churning and roiling under his skin wanting to escape. When the pressure got too much the energy would escape and well things happened.

He had turned his teacher's wig blue once, had gone from standing on the street to the roof in a blink and his favourite; had grown back his hair in seconds after a bad haircut from his aunt. Auntie had told him that his mother had been the same, which was reassuring.

Hadrian looked around the clearing; he could hear the birds chirping and felt the breeze gently caressing his cheeks and tousling his hair. He looked up at the clouds and felt that longing well up in him again, I want to be up there. He discarded the thought immediately; it was too ambitious even for him. He then noticed how the light from the sun was being blocked by the tree leaves; forming rays of light.

Dudley watched as the raven-haired boy got a faraway look in his eyes, his brow scrunching up. He remained quiet and just waited; Hadrian usually did this when he was thinking hard and coming up with ideas.

Slowly as if in a trance Hadrian raised his arm; his hand level with his eyes, palm facing up. Dudley watched in fascination as with a small flare; a ripple of power, a ball of light was suddenly in the smaller boy's palm. It was pure white and the glow was soft but it had a rhythmic pulse to it; almost imperceptible.

Hadrian stared at the ball in wonder; he could feel his power, his magic gathered in his hand but mostly in the ball floating barely an inch above it. He moved his hand from side to side and delighted as the ball retained its shape and followed his movement.

"Is that it?"

Hadrian gasped as his concentration broke and the ball of light faded to nothing but wisps of white that got carried off by the breeze, disappearing.

"Look what you did Dudders! You made me drop it." The young wizard accused, turning on his cousin.

"I did not! Plus, it was boring anyway. What good is a floating light bulb?" Dudley rolled his eyes at the feeble magic.

"Maybe it might help when you drag me to pilfer sweets from the cupboard when it's dark." Hadrian's voice dripped with sarcasm and false cheer.

"I don't pilfer," Dudley flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Plus, the sweets are ours, I dunno why we can't have them when we want." He huffed indignantly.

"Auntie says we're only allowed them on occasion," Hadrian's lilting voice was accompanied by a smirk.

"Oh please, remember that day with the tarts?" The smirk on the older boy's face was unmistakable and it only grew as Hadrian flushed red.

"That was different!" It was now Hadrian's turn to be indignant. Peals of laughter filled the clearing as both children remembered the incident. Things were good.

Hadrian couldn't help but gape up in wonder; there was no shame in it, he'd seen his uncle; big man that he was, take a few steps back. And why wouldn't he? The man standing in front of them was gigantic, and hairy, very hairy.

"So, you're a giant?" Dudley said with all the tact he could muster; which was apparently none. Still it got the point across.

A booming laugh was the response; shaking everyone to their bone. They would have run for the hills if the laugh wasn't actually quite pleasant if only a tad really loud.

"No laddie. I'm only a half giant. Compared to giants I'm tiny. I can fit in some of their hands I can!" the friendly giant answered and laughed again at the gobsmacked expression on the three males' faces.

Petunia couldn't help but shake her head in amused exasperation at the excited expressions on her boys' faces. She turned to look at Minerva and noticed that she was looking at the scene with a fond expression; her eyes fixed on Hadrian.

The witch was somewhat of a regular visitor to the Dursley household. It had begun as regular check-ups on the young wizard in the family but it had evolved into something more social. The two women found that they shared a few common interests and got along rather well. Minerva had become Petunia's source on the recent happenings in the wizard world; telling her snippets and pieces.

Petunia was also quite thankful for the older woman's involvement in their lives. Although she hated admitting to some of her inadequacies; Petunia knew she lacked knowledge about the Hidden World and Hadrian was a truly curious child. Too curious for his own good, she thought sometimes. Minerva was the only one currently able to sate the child's curiosity and Petunia was thankful. Plus, the older woman seemed to relish in the child's curiosity; an educator through and through she was.

"It means a lot to him that you managed to stop by." Petunia remarked to the older woman.

Minerva offered her a small smile; which for the usually stern woman was a mere upturn of the lips, waving her off casually.

"It was nothing really; in fact, I needed the break." Minerva wasn't joking about needing a break though; she'd had a hectic month.

Albus had been called to help with some incident, she couldn't be bothered to remember what exactly, by the ICW and she'd had to take over some of his duties. She hated meetings and paperwork; Albus was much more suited to dealing with politicians and the wealthy.

But the school needed donations and she was forced to play nice. Truly coming to this mundane suburb was a breath of fresh air for her. She looked at the young raven-haired boy; he seemed well though she could see that he seemed a little lethargic. She frowned at the thought; the child was usually a bundle of barely repressed energy.

"He's been having nightmares again." Petunia's voice pulled her from her musings.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that." A slight dusting of pink crept up the older woman's cheeks and Petunia suppressed a smirk. It wasn't often that the stern woman could get flustered.

"He hasn't been sleeping well for the past few weeks." Petunia said once more, concern colouring her face.

"Same as the past few years it seems." Minerva hummed. She stared at her drink absentmindedly turning the glass in her hands.

"Well you did say that they would never leave him, not entirely." Petunia intoned, her tone bitter.

"Yes." Minerva agreed, looking at the boy in question.

"But, still." Minerva added quietly her tone sombre.

"Still." Petunia agreed, pulling back and finishing her drink in one large gulp.

Petunia supressed a shiver as she remembered being woken up by the child's screams. Even now the mere memory of those haunted and incoherent screams sent a shiver down her spine. The nights where she had spent holding a sobbing Hadrian were among the worst in her life. No person, more so a child, should go through that, she thought to herself.

"So how have his classes been going?" The question from Minerva startled her out of her funk.

"He's doing well actually," Petunia answered after a moment.

"He is not wandering off as often; though if that's because of the more challenging school work or his friend's influence I don't know. His teachers are giving him harder assignments." She had a thoughtful look on her face

"I honestly find that I don't mind." Petunia shrugged uncaring.

"Well I hope that when he eventually starts at Hogwarts he will take to the subjects with the same enthusiasm." Minerva smiled into her glass.

"He has taken to asking if he can read some of his mother's old books…" Petunia trailed off and looked at the older woman, her tone leading.

"Well, subjects such as History Culture, Herbology and Astronomy are okay I suppose. Knowing him he'd want to practice the more practical disciplines given the chance, and I assure you that would be dangerous." Minerva cautioned, her lips upturned in a knowing smile.

"He's too curious for his own good, I swear." Petunia said with no heat, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

The smile was returned by the older woman. Minerva opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a grinning Hadrian.

"Auntie! Look, look!"

Petunia smiled indulgently and looked at what Hadrian was holding up and was met with startling golden amber eyes. The eyes belonged to a small chick, an owl chick, her mind absentmindedly supplied. The small bird was covered in downy grey feather, its small black beak barely visible over the thick fluffy feathers. The small creature painted a rather cute picture and was safely cradled in her nephew's hands.

Wait what?

"Where did you get…?" Petunia frowned as she stopped herself and stared at the half-giant who was looking sheepish.

"Hagrid says she's mine, for my birthday." Hadrian interjected, hoping to stall the worst.

"Found tha lil' tyke up in 'er mountains up north. Was abandoned and all alone in tha snow ya see." Hagrid added his own two cents.

Petunia rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She stared at her empty glass; would it be irresponsible of her to have another drink she wondered.

Hadrian had been constantly bugging her for a pet for weeks now and now suddenly one had dropped itself in his eager arms. At least it's not a snake, she mused to herself. The boy had an unusual fascination with the legless reptiles. She looked down at his hopeful eyes and knew that she couldn't possibly deny him. Ignoring the slight chuckle from Vernon, she put on her sternest face; or at least the one she could manage in the situation.

"A pet is no small responsibility; you do understand that right?" She emphasised her point with lots of finger pointing.

Hadrian's head was bobbing up and down vigorously with every word she said.

"I'll feed her and train her and clean up after her and everything else auntie." He was smiling now; he definitely knew she was going to say yes.

"I'm serious Hadrian." She tried and failed to keep the smile off her face.

"Yes auntie. I won't let you down." He had such a serious face on that she couldn't help but smile at him.

She ruffled his hair and like always he pouted. She gave him a shooing motion to which he responded with a bright smile and laugh before bouncing back to Dudley to show off his new pet. Petunia turned to Minerva who was giving her an amused smile.

"Is the bird magical you think?" Petunia mused out loud, clearly trying to ignore her inability to say no to her boys.

She felt a certain level of unease over the possibility. It had nothing to do with any danger posed by the animal; she trusted Hagrid and she knew Minerva would never allow the half-giant to give a child a dangerous magical animal. Her unease was because she didn't know if the owl, if it even was an owl, would exhibit certain magical quirks. She looked at the witch beside her but received a helpless shrug, that did not fill her with confidence.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, I'm no creature expert. But I'm sure either way, the experience will be fun." Minerva shrugged, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.

Petunia gave up thinking about it two hard and reached for the pitcher of Adult juice, as she had told the boys. She needed a bit more to drink, and Minerva it seemed was more than willing to help her.

Later that night Hadrian was in his room flipping through books and calling out random names to his new pet. The as of yet unnamed pet was in a comfy makeshift nest placed on top of Hadrian's bedside cabinet, constructed from broom bristles, twigs, shredded newspaper and a warm blanket. The little ball of feathers was rather warm and comfortable, evidenced by her drooping eyes.

"How about Ariel? For air?" Hadrian looked up at the chick before getting an indignant squawk.

"You're right that is rather stupid, naming you after a mermaid." Hadrian chuckled to himself before continuing to flip through the book again.

He had been at this for the better part of the hour, going through the newly granted books that once belonged to his mother. He was hoping to find some sort of great magical name for his new pet; he had the feeling that she would be magnificent when she got older and was determined to find a name she liked. His pet it seemed was very choosy as every single name he had proposed had been shut down.

He had rather liked some of the names, like Morgana or Selene but the bird turned them all down. He flipped a few more pages before he found a name he liked; he looked at what he was quickly discovering, his stubborn bird.

"Look we are both tired and if this one doesn't catch your fancy, then we'll pick a name tomorrow." Hadrian suggested, he was getting tired.

The young chick seemed to debate the veracity of his words before bobbing her head.

"How about, Hedwig?"

There was a long moment of silence, the owl chick had her head turned to the side seemingly thinking. Hadrian found himself holding his breath; this was the longest the avian had taken to think on a name. A soft pleased hoot was his response as the bird seemed to puff herself up in approval, she looked cute. Hadrian let out a pleased and amused chuckle. He lifted his arm up and stroked her delicate and soft feathers getting a pleased hoot out of her.

"I think we are gonna get along just fine…" he smiled softly at the bird. Golden amber eyes meeting emerald green, "Hedwig."

Attics are traditionally rather dirty, dusty and cramped places; surprisingly this was not the case with the attic in the Dursley household. This was all due to one of Mrs Dursley's often harmless quirks; Petunia was a neat freak.

She would clean, scrub, dust and polish till her arms were red and sore and everything had a pleasant shine and lemony scent to it. Her high standard of neatness did not end with merely the interior of her house. Her grass was evergreen and cut, her various flowers and bushes were healthy and trimmed, the exterior of the house always seemed to have a fresh set of paint.

All in all, things were pristine; but unlike most neat freaks Petunia made it all seem natural and not clinical. This attitude was reflected in the attic; there was neither dust nor cobwebs. Everything was packed in boxes, with labels, that were placed along the walls in neat stacks.

The attic had two windows, that were clear of any items to let natural light filter in. An old but large rag was placed in the centre of the floor and this was where Hadrian lay. He liked being in the attic; it was quiet and the windows offered him a great view of the neighbourhood. He had spent hours on either of those windows gazing down at the goings-on of the people unaware of their observer.

Dudley hated the attic, found it cramped – which Hadrian supposed was to be expected, Dudley was bigger than him. Hadrian of course didn't mind the small space and as long as he didn't make a mess of the place his aunt turned a blind eye to his adventures up there.

Hadrian was lying on his stomach, a few worn looking books scattered about him though one was in front of him, his eyes glued to its pages. Hedwig had been placed on a box near the window, where the sun and wind could reach her.

It had been few weeks since he had gotten her and her feathers had started to lighten up. She could not yet fly as she was still too young but she could toddle along the ground fairly well and if she needed to go far Hadrian was more than willing to carry her around.

The young avian was currently dozing, the gentle breeze coming from the window coaxing her slowly but surely into slumber. Hadrian paid her no mind at all, so engrossed was he in his book….

Of the many magical disciplines; the study and use of Runes is perhaps the most versatile and complex tool in a mage's hands. With the right formation, formula and adequate application of power, the possibilities are near endless with the user's imagination being their only limit. Runes are often and fondly referred to as the Word of Magic and at their most basic, Runes are the Language of Magic. The most common uses of Runes are in Warding and Enchantment but Runes can do so much more. In ancient times, powerful Runemasters could and would change the course of massive battles with a mere single array. But the applications of Runes do not just fall in the realm of battle; Runes can and have been used in Medicine, construction, sport and so much more.

Runes are not something that can be mastered in a few sessions like some common place charm or illusion. Runes are an art and mastering and unlocking their deep secrets is a life long journey. This journey requires patience, dedication, strength of will, an open mind and no small amount of faith. Every character, symbol and figure in the many Runic alphabets has a meaning and with this meaning comes power; be it subtle or very much evident. It is therefore of the utmost importance to become familiar and understand the different and often multiple meanings of runes so as to avert disaster.

Let us begin by first looking at perhaps the most used alphabet, the Elder Futhark….

Hadrian could hardly keep his excitement in check as he continued to read through the book on Runes. Admittedly some of the words being used were a bit beyond him but that's what a dictionary was for. Even then he could at least understand what the gist of it was; write something down and something will happen.

It sounded so simple to him and it had so many uses – his mind couldn't help but envision himself standing before an army of trolls, fearless in the face of such overwhelming odds and then glowing archaic script appearing before him and decimating the army. He let out an excited giggle, rousing Hedwig in the process. The bird turned an irritated glare on her young owner but Hadrian was oblivious. He was busy rummaging through some boxes in the corner muttering under his breath. His movements were jerky and frantic; he was clearly excited.

"Where is it, where is it? Aha!" he pulled out some wooden blocks.

The blocks were clearly old and were worn though were in surprisingly good condition. They had been his and Dudley's toys when they were mere babes. He quickly made his way back to the book he had somewhat carelessly thrown on the floor. He put the blocks by his side and picked up the book; frantically turning the pages until he found what he was looking for.

Archaic symbols stared back at him and he traced them with his eyes. It was strange how the symbols had individually looked block like; they were striking of course but when written together in formation the script looked elegant, beautiful even. He smiled giddily; he could feel a pleasant thrum under his skin.

He pulled out his birthday present from his uncle, a pocket knife; oh how his aunt had protested. It was fairly large, at least large for his age, but Uncle Vernon had said he'd grow into it, which was fine with him to be honest.

His uncle had told him it was a Barlow knife; the handle cum casing was made of a dark lacquered wood attached to a silver metal casing. The contrast made the grain in the wood stand out and in the metallic part the initials, H.J.P, had been stamped in boldly. Along one edge he could see the blunt edges of the two folded blades peeking out. He folded out the larger of the two blades before once again admiring the gift. The sharpened edge was mostly straight before halfway to the top it curved gently to end in a pointed tip. The dull edge was straight before halfway to the tip it abruptly turned to meet up with the tip forming something similar to a triangle. As Uncle Vernon had said it was wickedly sharp and he intended to put that to good use. He looked at the book again before finding a fairly simple rune script.

He picked up one of the wooden blocks before with utmost concentration he started to scratch the surface with his knife, carving the various runes into the wood. It took him close to an hour before he had copied it all. His arm felt uncomfortably stiff, his palm was sweaty and his wrist would sting when he moved it around but he had a grin on his face.

Looking at the two writings; his was barely legible and recognisable as a copy of the simple script in the book. His carving was crude and seemed to rise and fall due to the differing depths he had gone into the wood. Still he was proud of it.

"Hoot." Hedwig cautioned.

He gave his pet an annoyed look.

"Of course, it's gonna work Hedwig. Runes are all about faith." He smiled before once again going to rummage in the boxes for what he called useless items.

He came back with a pair of baby shoes. He was pretty sure Dudley would in no way mind if he used them. He then proceeded to clear some space around the carved wood, placing his books some distance away and moving Hedwig away from the window, much to the bird's protest. He looked at the piece of wood, innocently laying on the bare floor, he was most certainly not going to risk the rug if anything happened.

He took a deep breath and approached the wood and grasped it gently. The book had gone in depth about how rune clusters and script were charged; but Hadrian had summed and simplified it to something more eloquent; pour magic into writing. Well Hadrian had no problem with that at all. Poppy, the medical healer who gave him his check-ups, had once told his aunt that Hadrian's magic was very responsive for someone his age.

He could attest to that; his magic was always just under the surface, bubbling whenever he was excited, churning when he was angry; it seemed to ebb and flow, following and mimicking his moods. When he got too distressed or excited it would often burst out and cause random accidents. Despite this or perhaps because of this Hadrian had never had a hard time bringing out his magic and this time it was no different. He often found it hard to describe what bringing his magic to the surface felt like to Dudley; the closest he could approximate it to was holding onto warm liquid air, which admittedly made no sense.

With an ease that belied his age Hadrian drew on his magic and directed it into the wood and more importantly runes. He was momentarily surprised by how the runes seemed to feast on his magic. The runes seemed to pull and tug at his reserves and Hadrian felt his excitement turn to anxiety and then finally full blown panic. He was just considering abandoning the whole thing when the draw on his magic stopped abruptly.

He watched momentarily as an arc of energy sparked across the surface before settling. He could feel an odd pulse from the wood, the sensation was strange because he couldn't feel it with his hands nor could he see it; he just felt it; like an itch in front of his nose.

Nevertheless, Hadrian felt encouraged and set the block down before walking a short distance away and picking up the shoes. He turned to look at Hedwig who was looking onto the proceedings with a curious eye.

"Let's hope this works. Right girl?" he got an affirmative hoot and steeled himself.

He took one shoe, the left one he noted absently, and threw it in a gentle arc towards the wood. As the shoe approached the wood, a spark emanated again and then it happened.

He let out a whoop of joy; for there, suspended above the block of wood was the shoe. Suspended perhaps wasn't the best description; the shoe was frozen in place, the heel pointing upwards seemingly trapped before it could turn. There was a complete absence of movement as the book had said.

Hadrian smiled as the script did its work; it was called the Absence of Movement cluster. Something fairly simple and rudimentary really; yet it truly showed the wonders of runes. It stopped all movement within a three feet radius of itself, something about absorbing inertia. The script worked best on inanimate objects and small animals as anything bigger could break out.

Feeling bold, Hadrian grabbed the other shoe, winding his arm back he then threw the shoe with all his might towards the block of wood. As expected, once it crossed the perimeter the shoe came to an abrupt stop, frozen in place. Hadrian noticed the wood sparking again but he ignored it in favour of gloating to his pet.

"I told you it would work. A little faith is all you need." He blew the bird a raspberry.

Hedwig gave him an impressed look before rolling her eyes. Hadrian huffed, birds weren't even supposed to be able to roll their eyes, it was such a human expression. But as he had come to learn, over the course of his ownership of the bird, Hedwig was far from conventional. Still Hadrian was rather proud of what he had done; he was determined to practice the art everyday now.

"Hoot hoot," the little bird called out alarmed.

He turned to look at her and saw her gazing at his little experiment which was letting out continuous and violent arcs of eldritch energy. The sight filled him with dread and stark realization.

"Oh sh-" he never got to finish the sentence – the room was filled with a blinding light accompanied by a loud bang and suddenly the smell of smoke filled the air.

The first thing that registered in his mind when he finally regained his vision was that staring at support beams was nowhere near as entertaining as looking at clouds. The second was that he was on his back looking up at the ceiling, the third was that apart from looking ruffled, Hedwig was otherwise fine.

"Hoot." The bird called from the smoke filled room.

"I'm fine girl, at least I think I am." He pulled himself up rubbing the soreness out of the back of his head; it wasn't as painful as he thought it should be. He looked around and found that everything was more or less intact, nothing was blown apart or on fire, though there was a bit of wispy smoke. Fortunately it seemed to be dissipating quickly.

He looked to where the block of wood had been and grimaced. An area of around three feet in radius had been blackened by the explosion – because that's what had happened, his cluster had exploded. The very centre was smoking slightly and there was no sign of the wooden block.

"Auntie is going to kill me." He thought with dread.

The loud bang of the attic door meeting wall had him scrambling up, his heart leaping into his throat. The sound of his heart filled his ears, the blood rushing like a torrent and he could feel his muscles coiling like a spring whilst his magic wound itself around him.

There in the doorway, as if summoned by his very thoughts stood his aunt her eyes wide with shock as she took in the room. When her eyes finally came to rest on him shock and worry quickly melted to fury.

"Hadrian James Potter!"

Hadrian flinched as the Runes textbook slammed loudly on the kitchen counter closer to his head than he would have liked. His aunt was standing in front of him; her arms crossed in front of her, a glower on her face. She had dragged him, by the ear, from the attic before he could even get a word in.

He had been ordered to sit and stay in the kitchen while she went to retrieve his books. Dudley had walked in and stopped the moment he saw his younger cousin; he knew something was wrong. Hadrian had been sitting on a stool, his face black with soot, one eyebrow half burnt off and looking utterly terrified and defeated.

"Well?" his aunt's sickly-sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts, "What do you have to say for yourself young man?"

Hadrian looked up at her and was met with expectant eyes; suddenly he found all that excitement he had felt up in the attic absent. A pit had formed in the bottom of his stomach and his throat felt dry and constricted, his eyes stinging. He blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the sting in his eyes; swallowing was doing nothing to open up his throat. Still his aunt wanted an answer, so he just tried to be honest.

"I was just trying to do what the book said…I was just trying to do magic…" he whispered, shoulders slumped.

"After I had expressly told you not to?" her voice had gotten steely and Hadrian winced and looked away from her.

When she had given him the books, she had stressed over and over again to him about not trying the magic in the books. It was just for him to read; unsupervised magic was dangerous she had told him. He had told her he wouldn't, but he had gotten so excited and had just wanted to try.

"I-I am sorry…" his voice came out in a stutter, strangled and tremulous; but his aunt was having none of it.

"Do you even know how dangerous magic is? Of course, you don't. You could have killed yourself and then where would you be, where would your magic be? Nowhere, that's where."

All through her tirade, Hadrian's shoulders began shaking, his head bowed and hands clenched into tight fists on his lap.

"Just because you're smart doesn't mean you know everything. I will not have you chasing some fantasy and getting yourself killed. I will not lose any more family to magic…"

"That's enough Petunia." Vernon's voice boomed across the room silencing everyone.

Petunia spun round on her heel, hand raised ready to give her husband a piece of her mind. She found her voice stuck inside her throat at the look Vernon gave her; his eyes were hard and resolute, holding hints of disappointment. Petunia gathered her thoughts and opened her mouth to retort but Vernon cut her off.

"Boys, go to your rooms." His voice came out gruffer than usual but he couldn't be bothered to care. Before the words had even started to echo, Hadrian's chair was scrapping the floor as the young boy leapt off and bounded up the stairs to his room; a sob escaping him despite his best efforts.

Dudley seemed to debate with himself for a few moments but a sharp look from his father had him scurrying up the stairs. For a moment the echoes of two doors slamming resounded in the quiet house as the two adults stared at one another.

Vernon had his arms folded across his chest, his usually crisp white shirt was ruffled and wrinkled, the top buttons were loose with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his tie undone. He had known his nephew had done something he shouldn't have. The boy was barely holding back his tears, utterly scared as he was; but so was Petunia. Behind all that anger and fury was fear and his wife didn't know how to express it.

"You went too far Pet…" Vernon began, disappointment clear in his voice.

His wife looked up at him sharply, her blue eyes mimicking ice. She was not going to back down from this. Vernon had not lived through what she had, he didn't understand.

"Too far?" her voice was quiet and cool. "Do you even know what he was doing? What could have happened? He could have died Vernon!"

"But he didn't die, apart from a face covered in soot, he is fine, he isn't hurt." Vernon countered, voice firm.

"This time he isn't. But what about the next time he gets too curious for his own good huh? What then Vernon?" She moved to the table and looked at the book there, her face unreadable.

"So, what? Are you going to stop him from performing magic for the rest of his life then? On the off chance that he might get hurt?" Vernon challenged quietly.

Petunia looked back at him, her eyes hard and stubborn. Vernon scoffed.

"News flash Pet, kids are curious – too curious for their own good for that matter. Accidents happen, that's life, and it's how they learn their life lessons." Vernon pointed out.

"Dudley had his accident with the grill last week and you didn't go this far Pet. It's not fair to either of them if you single one of them out." He added trying to appeal to her sense of fairness.

Petunia picked up the book, RUNES THE WORD IN MAGIC, she read silently and scoffed to herself. Unbidden memories of her younger years came flitting through her head.

She and her sister had been close when they were younger; Petunia had adored Lily and Lily had adored her in turn. Her sister had always been the darling of the Evans family; talented, intelligent and vibrant, that had been her sister. There had been times when Petunia had envied her younger sister; but none more so when Petunia found out that she could never be one of the few people with the gift of magic like her sister.

It had crushed her; knowing that no matter what she did she could never ever be as special as the younger of the Evans girls. For a brief while she had hated her sister; hated all the attention, all the power that her sister had at her fingertips. It would have driven an irrevocable rift between them had Lily not tried so hard to make things okay. Little Lily; she had done everything she could to share her new and ever – expanding world with her sister. It had certainly helped and while Petunia would from then on feel inferior to her younger sister; she still loved her and no matter what they would always be close.

It was a good dream to have but eventually the Magical world had drawn her sister away. War. How she hated the mere mention of the word. She had begged Lily; begged her not to join, to not fight in a war that was not hers. But her sister was stubborn, her sister cared and they both knew that she would fight; fight till her dying breath.

They had broken contact then; Petunia could not bear to see her sister give up everything she knew for a cause, no matter how right it was. Then Hadrian had been born and everything almost went back to normal. But then came the news; her sister was dead and her nephew an orphan. The Magical world had carved its pound of flesh from the Evans family and she was all that was left. She knew deep down that a similar fate awaited her nephew; that magic would whisk him away from her; take away the only reminder of her sister.

She would do everything in her power to keep him from those that would seek to put him in an early grave. She spun around and met Vernon's concerned gaze with a hard stare.

"If it keeps him safe, keeps him alive, then yes, I will." Her voice was a mere whisper but there was a strength to it; an undeniable passion.

Vernon looked at her and she stared back at him, unwavering and resolute. He gave a long heavy sigh; shaking his head tiredly.

"Sometimes I see that child laugh and I remember his mother…" his face broke into a small nostalgic smile.

"It breaks my heart that he won't ever hear Lily laugh or see her smile. But despite all the wrong that was inflicted on him, he has one thing going for him. He has you…" He chuckled tiredly as he looked at his wife's startled face. Petunia made to speak but he cut her off.

"You are great with him; I doubt Lily has any complaints, she'd be proud, I think. He adores you; you know?" He pulled up a chair and sat down facing her.

Petunia suddenly found herself feeling small in front of his eyes. Here she was standing over her husband who was sitting and looking up at her and yet she in no way felt that she had the upper hand.

Her continued silence did not seem to bother Vernon as he continued.

"I remember what Lily was like whenever she performed magic in front of us; I'm sure you remember it better than me. What was it again?" He prompted her.

Petunia swallowed the lump that had found itself lodged in her throat.

"Joy…" her voice came out dry and strangled but she continued regardless.

"Pure unbridled joy." She gave him a tremulous smile which he responded with his own soft one.

"She loved magic; it was a part of her, an extension and expression of her. I daresay Hadrian loves it more because it is perhaps the only way he can feel truly close to his mother." Vernon mused almost forgetting she was there.

Petunia felt shame flood her and she broke her gaze from his.

"You can ban him from performing magic and I'm sure he will listen, somewhat." He gave a crooked smirk at that.

Petunia let out a hiccup-more like a cross between a sob and laugh.

"If you do that though, he will grow to resent you Pet, even hate you. Can you handle that Pet? Will you deny him his heritage, a whole part of him or will you help him?" Vernon looked at his wife for the last time but she steadfastly ignored his gaze.

He shook his head and got up; he had said his piece; he would leave her to her thoughts. Petunia found her gaze locked onto the Runes book that she had thrown harshly onto the table. She paid no mind to her husband's departure; her mind swirling with thoughts and echoes of the past hour.

When he opened the door, he found that his expectations hadn't been wrong. The room was dark and as usual surprisingly neat. Hadrian was curled up into a tight little ball, his shoulders moving gently with every intake of breath he took.

Anyone else would have assumed the child was fast asleep, but Vernon knew he was not sleeping; he had been too distraught to fall asleep. He had seen Hadrian's shoulders tense when he had walked in. Slowly, as if approaching a young frightened deer, he made his way to the bed and sat down beside his curled form. They stayed like that for a while neither making any effort to engage the other.

"I'm pretty sure you must be comfortable – being curled up and wound tight like that." His eyes flicked around the room; the light spilling in from the hallway letting him pick up some details.

A reading desk with its chair was set against the far wall. Beside the desk was a small bookshelf, it had an eclectic mix of texts; from simple literary works to rudimentary books on science. Hadrian had the tendency to read anything that remotely caught his fancy, regardless of field. Near the door was a wardrobe and beside it was a pile of toys and other bits and pieces.

Movement from beside him brought him out of his thoughts. He looked down and found his nephew still curled up but having shifted to something a bit more comfortable. "Are you still pretending to be asleep?" Vernon asked casually, leaning back.

"If it gets you to leave, then yes." Hadrian couldn't quite pull of the impudent tone, instead his voice came out low and cracked.

Vernon sighed; sometimes he wondered where the child ever inherited his stubborn and sometimes rude nature. An image of a dark-haired young man, with flashing hazel eyes and mischievous smirk crossed his mind.

"I'm not here to chew you out Hadrian, your aunt did enough of that." He cajoled and saw the boy's shoulders tense before he seemed to deflate.

Slowly the dark-haired boy got up and faced his Uncle. Hadrian had always been small for his age – it often worried Petunia – but as he sat on his bed, his legs tucked under him and his giant of an uncle sitting beside him; well he looked tiny.

"Look at me." Vernon ordered softly.

Bloodshot emerald eyes rose up and met a pale blue. Hadrian's face was streaked with tear tracks-a large hand came up to his face and ever so gently wiped away at the moisture.

"I shouldn't have tried to do magic." Hadrian stated plainly, tone low and shoulders slumped and curled inwards.

"No you shouldn't have." Vernon answered in a matter of fact tone.

"Do you think auntie is still mad at me? Will she be mad for a while?" Hadrian asked, sniffing and wiping at his red eyes.

Vernon let out a hum; he motioned for Hadrian to sit on his lap. With little hesitation the child did and he found himself encircled by warmth as his uncle's arms secured him.

"Do you remember what I told you when I gave you your birthday present." Vernon prodded, resting his chin atop his nephews head.

While he could not see his nephew's face, he knew that it was currently scrunched up in both confusion and concentration.

"You told me to always handle it carefully and with respect." Hadrian repeated, almost word for word.

Vernon let out a pleased hum, a rumbling sound that Hadrian felt against his back.

"What did I say would happen if you did not do those things?" Vernon prodded.

"You said I might get hurt – injured." Hadrian spoke softly.

"Good, you remember." Vernon took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. "The knife I gave you is a tool; it's meant to help you. Understand?"

"I think so." He shifted slightly, burrowing deeper into the warmth of his uncle's embrace.

"Tools are there to help us, to make life easier for us. But," Vernon's voice grew sharper to convey the seriousness of his words.

"But if you're not careful that tool can hurt you if you don't use it right. Do you understand what I'm saying Hadrian?"

"Yes, uncle Vernon, I understand." He swallowed thickly; he felt a chill down his spine despite how warm his uncle was.

"Your magic is a gift, a precious and strong gift. It's meant to be used but you must always respect it. Your aunt is mad at you- and will likely remain mad for a while. But that is what people do when they care about someone; that is one of the ways people act when our loved ones get hurt." Vernon spoke succinctly.

"Ar-are you mad at me?" Hadrian asked his voice muffled.

"I am."

Hadrian tensed but Vernon was quick to reassure him.

"That does not mean that I won't forgive you." He gave the boy a gentle squeeze to convey his sincerity.

"So will your aunt – you just have to give her time, that's all."

Hadrian gave him a hesitant nod. Vernon motioned for Hadrian to get into bed-he gave a silent chuckle at Hadrian's reluctance to part with his lap, but eventually he had the boy tucked into bed.

"So remember no magic for a while okay?" Vernon ordered gently.

Hadrian gave his uncle a bleary-eyed nod. It had been a rather emotional day and he suddenly found himself without his normally boundless energy.

"If you're good maybe you can show me what you were trying to do." Vernon laughed to himself as he saw the rather surprised and excited look on his nephew's face.

The boy opened his mouth to say something, but Vernon closed the door leaving the boy to ponder on his uncle's words. Vernon was a firm believer of the carrot and stick method; he just hoped his wife did not feel the need to be irritated.

Petunia sighed in mild irritation; setting the book down before she brought a hand to rub at her forehead. It had been a week since the whole incident and Petunia found herself feeling rather tired and uncomfortable.

Thankfully there had been no need for the magical authorities to get involved; the neighbors had been easy enough to convince on her own. None of them had seen anything other than a flash and heard a bang; it had obviously been fireworks. The Dursley boys were known for being rather rambunctious. The neighbors were hardly an afterthought for Petunia; a rather gullible bunch they were when it came to gossip.

No, her concern lay on her household. There had been no incident involving magic for the whole week, not even a whisper of arcane energies in the house. Usually most people would be happy to not have unexplainable accidents happen every few days in their homes. Petunia was not most people-she had grown up in a house where such accidents were fairly common. Lily had enjoyed causing mayhem and Petunia, like the dutiful older sister, often had to cover for her sibling.

Barring the years, she had spent without her sister's constant presence Petunia was fairly used to having a magical living with her. Yet suddenly the house felt normal, mundane - it made her uncomfortable, uneasy. Hadrian had inherited his mother's penchant for accidental magic, he had also gained some modicum of control over it, over what he affected. Usually a day did not go by where the two boys did not get into some sort of mischief. Dudley often encouraging his younger cousin. To suddenly have all that disappear was strange, plus Hadrian had taken to helping her more so than usual.

It was so obvious that he was trying his best to remain on her good side, perhaps in the hopes that she would give him back the books she had confiscated and locked up.

She glanced down at the book she had been reading, Magical Fields a Simple Treatise. It was a book that looked and examined many of the magical fields that were legally practiced. Minerva had sent it over when during their weekly floo calls – she always found the whole sticking your head in a chimney thing hilarious; she had mentioned Hadrian's budding interest in runes. Minerva being ever the educator and being intuitive had sent over a book that would help both her and Hadrian understand the basics of various fields.

Petunia was very thankful as the book had confirmed her fears. Runes were a difficult and often dangerous subject; taking years to become proficient in. Runes, from what she had been able to understand, needed skill, patience and intuition; they were like very rewarding puzzles. Hadrian loved puzzles. She knew that he would love this discipline.

She looked out the kitchen window into the backyard-Vernon was with the two boys and was showing them how to carve wooden figurines. She knew that this was his way of encouraging Hadrian; the boy had after all carved his first Runic array in a block of wood. Perhaps she should dig up her old calligraphy set, Runes did require a deft hand and expert penmanship.

A/N now I know you're probably thinking that the whole runes stuff will just fizzle and not turn out well. But bear with me, i have plans churning in this head of mine. I'm rather ambitious

Edited 22-05-2024

Again there were some formatting issues with the paragraphs, broke those up and tweaked the dialogue here and there.