Rising Powers

Chapter 2: The New Kid

Over the next months, Harry developed his magic further than he thought possible. The spells that he once had to practice all day to get right now took him no effort at all. Not only had his skills increased, but his imagination. For Harry, if he could think it, he could make it happen. In his cupboard, he had a bookshelf cut into the wall for all of his library books and a few he had been given by his school librarian that were badly worn or unused by the children there (always given to him when out of sight of Dudley and his gang). The librarian at Harry's school liked Harry and knew that Harry was actually smart, no matter how many other faculty members told her that he always cheated, but always got away with it for lack of evidence. Harry made it so that only he would notice that the shelf was there--to anyone else it would just seem like the regular wall.

The Dursleys practically forgot about Harry's existence. Harry still did his jobs, including the ones Vernon added to make up for the original ones, which Harry now finished in only a few minutes. Harry never used any mind magic on the Dursleys, except to distract them when he would leave the house and to stop them from punishing him badly. He suspected that the Dursleys knew that he was up to something, but they wisely left him alone about it.

His tree became more of a home than Privet Drive ever was. He had made a sort of tree house about halfway up. Unlike most tree houses, his was made from the tree itself. The tree now had a table and a chair growing directly out of the trunk and branches. He was the only person in the world that had a living tree house. Occasionally, he would have prune and trim his table, but Harry now enjoyed unusual things in his life.

During the winter, he warmed up his section of the tree so that it felt like late spring instead of December, and stopped any rain or snow from intruding into his sanctuary. When it was cold or wet or cold and wet, all kinds of animals would come into the warm and dry area of the tree. Harry would talk to them, not caring if they understood, but he thought he could see some intelligence in the eyes of some creatures. Most of the animals that lived in the tree knew Harry and were not afraid of him, and would take any food that he conjured and fed to them right from his hands. Birds would land on his shoulders and gently tug on his hair in an affectionate manner. At least, that's what Harry assumed it to be. He had not known affection from humans, let alone birds. Spiders, however, seemed to be deathly afraid of him and would flee from his presence, even in his cupboard where they had coexisted peacefully for as long as he could remember.

"Probably something to do with my magic," Harry said to a small snake that was sliding down a nearby branch. For some reason, snakes seemed to like him a lot. Harry never got hissed at or bitten. They also seemed to understand Harry the most.

"You are correct, young speaker, but not in the way you think." Harry stared at the snake. This was something he had not expected.

"You can talk?" Harry asked.

"No. You can," the snake hissed in an odd way, bobbing his head up and down as if he was laughing. "You are a speaker. A human capable of speaking our language. Not many are born with this ability, and it cannot be learned."

"Well, why haven't you said anything before?"

"Well, you're dreadfully boring, aren't you?" the snake drawled and rolled his eyes, as if it was completely obvious and Harry shouldn't have had to ask such a stupid question. "All you ever talk about is the weather and what a nice day it is. And, I'll have you know, the birds know they're pretty. You don't have to tell them over and over every time one lands on you. Sure, they like the attention, but that doesn't mean that everyone else here enjoys your incessant prattling."

"My teachers think I'm very smart!" Harry said. He wasn't about to tell this stupid snake that all of his teachers thought he invented a clever new method of cheating. "And I don't think you're very nice! Now I know why everybody hates snakes!"

"Well, of course I'm not nice. I'm not the weather, after all," the snake laughed silkily. Harry could not believe it! He was being mocked by something with no arms or legs! He closed his eyes, calmed himself down and tried to be civil.

"Well, I didn't know anyone could understand me. I'll try to keep my conversation entertaining for you, okay?" Harry glared at the snake. "Right. I'm Harry Potter, who are you?"

"Eh? I'm a snake. You know that already. And I thought you were a human, not a Harry Potter. You certainly look human." The snake was looking at Harry as if he was even stupider than he originally thought.

"'Course I'm human. But my name is Harry Potter." The snake still looked confused. "It's what we call each other to tell each other apart. We couldn't go around saying, 'How's it going, human?' 'Not bad, human, how about you?' 'I'm swell, thanks, does human still have that nasty cough?' It would get confusing, don't you think?"

"Yesss..." The Harry Potter was smarter than he thought. "Well, you may call me what you wish, Harry Potter."

"How about..." Harry looked up in thought. "Mr. Snake!"

"How about Nathair?" He sighed. Harry Potter was much, much stupider than he thought.

"Well, alright, then." Harry agreed reluctantly. "Nice to meet you, Nathair."

"You as well, Harry Potter." At least this human was polite. The other speakers always wanted something out of him. He knew the rumors that a speaker could destroy a snake with a thought if they wanted. "What is your command?"

"Command?" Harry was confused. Even if he expected to become the master of a magically enslaved snake, he still would not know what to do. Nobody had ever let Harry make any kind of decision in his life before. After a moment of thought, Harry knew exactly what he wanted. "Er...just be my friend."

"As you wish..." This might not be so bad, after all, Nathair thought.

* * *

Harry's new friend gave him new ideas for spells, and magic in general. Although Harry never gave him a direct command (since he didn't know that he could), Nathair would always be there to help when Harry was in the tree.

"So I'm not the first sorcerer you've met before?" Harry asked.

"Sorcerer? I do not know of things like that. But there have been other people with magic like yours. Slightly different, though." Nathair did not like how this was going.

"Different? How?" Harry turned away from the spell book he was writing in to focus on him.

"They always have used a...an item of focus." As long as Harry didn't give him a direct command, Nathair could avoid the subject he was worried about.

"Item of focus? What's that?"

"Such as a wand. I have heard stories about people long ago that would use a staff..." Nathair trailed off.

"Well, that makes sense. I always wondered about that. Lots of stories have things like wands or a staff. Sometimes swords, even." Harry was excited to learn something new, but Nathair seemed to be acting oddly. "Are you okay? Tell me what's wrong."

Harry did not mean it, but that was a command, and Nathair felt the urge to give in to his will. "Speakers are well-known for using snakes for their foci."

"Oh." Harry looked at the expression of fear in Nathair's eyes and decided he should get all of the facts before using his friend to make magic. "Well... what would happen to you?"

"You...care?" Having met a speaker before, several centuries ago, and having heard rumors about their lack of compassion for their tools of power, he was flabbergasted.

"Of course I care, I'm your friend, right?" Harry said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Nathair looked at him. "Of course you are." He paused. He did not think Harry would choose to use him like that, but some people would do anything for power. "It enhances your magic by using my life force."

"You mean it'll kill you?"

"Eventually, yes."

"Well, we can't let that happen, can we?" Harry said, and that was the end of that.

"...Thank you, Harry Potter."

"What are friends for? Now, why don't you tell me some more stories about what the others could do?"

* * *

Harry's monitors began to glow with a slow pulse. Dumbledore was torn between his usual delight and a vague feeling of worry.

"There was no way that James and Lily's son would turn out to be like Tom. Everything will go according to plan," he thought as he covered the glowing device with a thick blanket. "I'm sure it will."

* * *

One day, sitting in his tree, Harry felt something odd. It was almost like when he cast a spell, only it was a bit off and it was...outside of him. There was no better explanation. He looked around to see if anything unusual had just happened. There was nothing out of order that he could tell, except that there was a snowy white owl sitting in the tree and staring straight at him. That was definitely where the magical feeling was coming from.

"Hello, are you a magical owl?" Harry asked. The owl hooted affirmatively.

"A paired owl...Not unheard of, but exceedingly unusual for someone of your age. Of course, that describes everything that happens around you," Nathair said as he slithered down to Harry.

"Paired? What do you mean?"

"She is destined for you. If she became anyone else's familiar, she would likely die. She will be closer to you than any simple pet, and you will eventually be able to read each other, and know when the other needs something. I had hoped to become your familiar, but there's no way I can compete with a paired owl..." Nathair trailed off, obviously disappointed.

"It's okay, you're still my friend. Hey, I thought you said you didn't know about humans and sorcerers."

"It's instinct. All animals that can be used by a human know this."

"Oh. What's a familiar, anyway?" Harry asked.

"It's basically your favored pet. By becoming a familiar, we will become smarter and sometimes develop a bit of magic of our own if the bond is close enough. Your bond with this owl will certainly be that close." He cast a jealous yet playful glare at the owl and coiled up in the sun to watch them.

Harry held his arm up and the owl hopped onto him. Harry gasped as a feeling of warmth crept up his arm, and he suddenly felt like he knew this owl his whole life.

"Wow," he said in awe. "Now what should I name you?" Harry went through a list of potential names. "Snowy?" The owl glared at him. "Too cliché...gotcha. Owly?" Harry received a glare in response as Nathair looked at her in sympathy.

Harry thought for a while and came up with an idea. "How about you pick your own name?" The owl looked at him as if he had grown a second head and was now fighting with it. "Okay, how many letters?" She blinked at him six times.

Harry had always wanted to play hangman before, but he never had anyone that wanted to play with him. Using his finger as a pen, he drew up a gallows and six slots for letters in midair in glowing lines. "Okay...is there an E?" The owl pointed her wing at the second slot. Harry smiled. Playing was fun, especially when he did it in the most unDursleyish way possible.

* * *

The summer passed quickly, and Harry hardly spent any time at Privet Drive. He didn't even sleep there anymore, since he made a portal that connected from his tree to the inside of his cupboard door as if they were two rooms in the same building. In case someone opened the cupboard, Harry did not want them to see a floating hole in reality. The portal would only be opened while the door was closed, so nobody except Harry would even be able to find out about its existence.

On Harry's eighth birthday, Nathair and Hedwig surprised him with a small party.

"Congratulations on surviving through eight summers, Harry Potter. You have done well," Nathair hissed to him, after dropping a mostly-dead mouse on the table for him. "I caught this one especially for you. It struggled much."

"Er...thanks," Harry said, realizing that it was, in fact, his birthday. He assumed that something struggling to not be eaten alive meant that it was an extra special mouse. "I appreciate the thought, but why don't you go ahead and eat it yourself."

"You cannot know you if you don't like it unless you try it," he replied, as he practically breathed the mouse in. "It tastes like food."

"Does it taste like people food?"

"I believe it tastes like snake food, but I do not know if it tastes like food for humans as well."

"Well, I probably shouldn't risk it. Thanks anyway, though. How'd you know it was my birthday? I didn't even remember."

"But your familiar did," he said, looking at Hedwig as she landed on Harry's shoulder and presented him with an extra-bloody mouse. "You must have known what today was somewhere in your heart, Harry Potter, because she knew you needed a party, even if it is just a few animals and some dead vermin."

Harry knew that Nathair was probably right, as he had noticed the snake's insight many times before. "Well, thanks to you, too, Hedwig. You should eat yours too. And you're not just a bunch of animals, you're my best friends. And those vermin were the first presents I've ever gotten before." Harry smiled for a moment and then thought of something. "Hedwig, can you speak snake too?" Hedwig rolled her eyes.

"We animals can communicate with each other on a level beyond words, Harry Potter. You would do well to remember this," Nathair warned him.

"Er... Sorry?" Harry wasn't sure why he was apologizing.

"Don't Apologize. You performed no wrong actions. Just remember that in the future."

A bunch of orchids grew out of the table growing from the tree. It was that moment that made Harry think that the tree could think and communicate, too.

"Thanks, tree." The branches croaked in response.

* * *

If the device that monitored Harry and the wards on his house wasn't silenced, covered with a thick blanket, and locked in the bottom shelf of the headmaster's desk, Dumbledore would have seen it flashing blue and heard a piercing siren sound, indicating that the blood wards had fallen and the Dursley household was completely open to attack at any moment.

* * *

Harry walked into his class on the first day of school, sad but knowing it was for his future that he was there. He sat down in the front row of the room, not because it was closest to the teacher, but because it was the farthest away from Dudley and his clowns. Also, it was harder for him to be accused of cheating if there was nobody in front of him.

"I don't know this teacher, but she's probably been warned about me." As she read Harry's name off the roll, he raised his hand and her eyes narrowed a bit. Harry sighed. "It seems my reputation precedes me yet again. Oh well."

As Harry went back into thinking about magic while his teacher called off the rest of the names on her list, Harry felt the same "outside magic" feeling like when he met Hedwig. By the time he realized what it was, the feeling of magic was gone. Harry looked in the direction it came from, but saw nothing unusual. He quickly forgot about it and went on with his day.

Harry sat down to eat the lunch he brought in a brown paper bag. At least, that's what he pretended to do. He actually just brought an empty bag and conjured food inside of it before reaching in and taking it out. After reaching in to get a second bit of pudding, he felt the magical signature again. And again, it disappeared as soon as it came. He looked in the general direction it came from, which happened to be in the seat directly across from him.

The seat that was empty when Harry sat down was now filled by the bushy-haired girl that sat next to him in class earlier. She was the kind of person that didn't really stand out much, and if he hadn't felt her magic, he probably would not have recognized her. He knew that she was the smart, know-it-all type that raised her hand at every question and drove people away. She was, without a doubt, the cause of the magical signature.

"If you don't want to talk to me, go ahead and say it. Just don't ignore me," the girl said while glaring at him. She obviously thought he was pretending not to see her.

"Sorry, I didn't see you sit down. I tend to get wrapped up in my own thoughts. I'm Harry Potter." He held out his hand and her frown let up a little.

"Oh. Well, I guess I should apologize. I'm somewhat used to being ignored, you see," she said, blushing slightly. "Hermione Granger. Weird name, I know but it's from--"

"Shakespeare. The Winter's Tale," Harry interrupted. It was in one of the library books he had read for ideas on magic. At least, he tried to read that one. A lot of them were very hard to read and used words Harry had never seen before. That story was about prophecies and telling the future, which Harry thought was beyond even his powers, so he didn't spend too much time on it. "Maybe she is like me...her parents gave her a name that's kind of magic related. Although that's stretching a bit. She did give off magic twice today."

"You know Shakespeare?" Hermione perked up as if she was informed that she was talking to Shakespeare himself. "Was it for a class here? This is my first day, we just moved here, you see. This is the second time we have moved, and my mother thinks that it's bad for my social development, and I...happen to agree...But anyway, how is the curriculum here? Do they teach much literature here? Mrs. Hughes pronounced my name 'Hermy-own' earlier, and it seemed like she wasn't particularly interested in Renaissance literature. What do you think?"

Harry stared at her, wide eyed. He had not spoken with many humans that weren't complete idiots for very long, and he had not spoken with any at all for months. He was pretty sure this was not normal. "Er... no, I tried to read some of it for...a project I'm working on. Y'know, on my own, but it was too hard for me, and not really relevant to my project, so I stopped reading it." Harry was sure that there was more to her than met the eye, and wasn't sure how to approach the subject, so he decided a blunt approach would be the best. "You're a witch, aren't you?"

Hermione felt like she'd been stabbed with a knife made of ice. Harry Potter didn't look very smart, but he definitely was, even if he couldn't read Shakespeare. He was only eight, after all. She was hoping that she might have found someone that could keep up with her. "What was I thinking? Of course he thinks I'm a freak! He got about five words out before I started talking about curriculums and the Renaissance. Just like the rest. Oh, why do I even try?"

Harry watched an expression that was very familiar to him fly across her face until she put on a neutral expression. It was only there for a moment, but it was there all the same. It was the expression of a friend's betrayal, of finding out that someone you trusted was just using you. Harry knew it well. He had made many 'friends' when he was younger that would inevitably sell him out and join in on Harry Hunting. And it killed him inside that he was the caused that feeling with someone else. As he went over his last statement, his brain caught up with his stupidity.

"Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant was, are you a magic user?" Harry hoped she would believe him, and not run away crying the way it looked like she wanted to.

She sniffled. "What are you talking about?" She asked, angrily. She was busy wiping away the beginnings of a tear, but it looked like she was willing to hear him out.

"You don't know? Okay, you're just like me, then." Harry waited for Hermione to look him directly in the eyes. "Have you ever done anything unusual? Something that you thought was impossible, but it happened anyway? Something with no logical explanation?"

Hermione stared at him. "I--once my mum's hair turned into bits of rope when she wouldn't let me stay up to watch Monty Python..." She looked highly embarrassed to admit this. Harry did not know who Monty Python was, but if he was worth an argument with her parents, he must be very smart. "How did you know about that?"

"I felt your magic. Earlier, in the classroom, and right before you yelled at me just now for ignoring you. That's what made me look up. You got angry at me, and you must have been just on the edge of accidentally using magic on me."

"And you're a witch?" she asked, still highly doubtful.

"Of course not! Only girls are witches! I'm a sorcerer," he said, then mumbled, "Yes, I'm a witch. What were you thinking?

"Anyway, do you think your parents could do it?" Harry asked, hoping to find someone that could tell him about it. "I think mine might have been able to. But I'm pretty much just guessing about that."

"Well, why don't you ask them?" Hermione asked.

"Oh. They were killed, you see. I live--or at least I'm supposed to be--with my aunt and uncle, and they don't like me asking about my parents, let alone starting a conversation about magic and sorcerers."

"Supposed to be?"

"Oops. Oh, well. I would have to show you anyway if I'm going to teach you about magic."

"You're going to teach me?" Hermione asked hopefully. She loved learning things, and this sounded like something that not just anyone could do. "Could you show me something now?"

"Why don't you have a cookie first?" Harry held out his brown paper bag. Hermione saw something in Harry's smile that said he was offering her more than what he was saying, but she reached in to take one. And kept reaching. She never touched the other end of the bag, and her arm was at least a foot in. "Okay, take it out, before somebody sees."

She took her hand out and looked at it in wonder, before realizing that there was a cookie in her fist that she did not remember picking up. As she ate it, she couldn't help but think, "This is going to be fun."

* * *

"Mum?"

"Yes, dear?" Hermione's mother put down the box that she was unpacking when she heard the nervousness in her voice that meant she was going to have to answer a tough question for her daughter. She hoped she didn't have to give her The Talk already.

"Well, I met this boy at school today..." she trailed of and looked away.

Emma Granger sighed. She sat down and got ready for a long conversation. "And?"

"And he said I'm a witch!" she shouted out as fast as she could, looking at her mother's reaction. There was a mixture of relief and amusement.

"Well, boys that age tend to say silly things sometimes. I'm sure he didn't mean it, dear."

"No, he definitely did!" Hermione didn't seem to be upset about this at all. In fact she seemed to be happy. "And he said you might be one, too! Are you a witch, Mum?"

Emma thought Hermione might have taken an insult for a compliment, but she was smarter than that. Maybe she was starting to like boys, after all. She remembered how they could make a girl do stupid things into her twenties in some cases. Like the time Dan made her lick that icy flagpole. She couldn't taste anything for days after that. Then again, her little Hermione was brilliant. "Er...you mean like an actual, cauldron and broomsticks witch?"

"Exactly!" Hermione nodded happily. "Well? Are you?"

"N--No, Hermione. There's no such thing. Well, there are some religions with witchcraft, but that's closer to a different type of prayer than it is to waving a wand and seeing sparks."

"Oh. Well, there's no helping that, I suppose." Hermione walked away and went up the stairs. "Daddy? Are you a sorcerer?"

Emma felt like she was missing out on something.

* * *

Hermione went to the park that afternoon like Harry told her. She was the only one in the park, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. As she sat on a bench, her doubt kicked in again, and she wondered if maybe he was just messing with her after all. He probably expected her to be out here all night, sitting all alone until she--

"Hey," Harry said, and Hermione jumped.

"Don't do that!" she screamed, and Harry laughed.

"Well, you were expecting me, weren't you? Now come on, I'll take you to my place." Harry started to walk away.

"Wait. You mean you had me meet you here in the middle of nowhere just so we could go somewhere else? You could have just given me your address, you know." Hermione crossed her arms and huffed.

"It wouldn't do you too good. My relatives would have told you that they've never heard of me before." Harry led her up to a wall and took out a piece of chalk.

"Well, why would they do that? They must not be very good relatives," she said, thinking he was having her on.

"No. They're not." He looked her directly in the eyes and muttered, leaving no question in Hermione's mind as to how his relationship with them was. He turned back, drew a small symbol on the bottom of the wall and raised the chalk to draw a large oval from ground level to as high as he could reach.

"So instead, you took me to the park to play with chalk. Is that Chinese?" She pointed at the symbol.

"Well, technically, it's Japanese but in this case there's no difference whatsoever."

"What does it say?" she asked, unable to resist knowing something she didn't a second ago.

"Ki. It means 'Tree,'" he said, and drew a line from the top to the bottom in the center of the oval. As he drew the line, it opened a hole in the wall as if he were zipping down a sweater. Harry put the chalk in his pocket and walked through the hole as if he did it every day (which he did). "Come on in."

"What is it? Is it safe?" she asked, looking at the glowing hole in space with suspicion.

"It's a portal, and it's probably safe. You're the only human besides me who's ever seen one, as far as I know." This did not assuage Hermione's fears. She slowly put one foot in, and tested it like the other side of the hole was a shoddy bridge. Deciding it was going to hold her weight, she stepped through. Harry gave the wall on his side a kick, and the portal closed.

"Can I get you something to eat or drink?" Harry asked as Hermione looked around. Wherever Harry had taken her, it was beautiful.

"Er...I'll have some of whatever you're having," Hermione said as she looked around.

They were standing in what appeared to be a tree house. A warm-feeling light came out of nowhere and lit the place up, even though it was overcast outside. The furniture appeared to be growing straight out of the tree itself and into the usual shapes: A table, a few chairs, and a bed of leaves, moss, and grass that looked softer than any mattress. For a tree house, there was an incredible amount of space in all directions, definitely bigger than a small studio flat. The walls were made of vines and small, twisting branches, and were covered in exotic plants and flowers that could not possibly be native to England, and seemed more fitting in a rain forest. Insects and small animals made themselves at home, but none of them looked at all afraid of Harry, and very few reacted to his presence. A snowy white owl hooted at Hermione in what she assumed was a greeting.

"H--Hello," she said uncertainly to the owl, who winked once at her and closed its eyes. Any doubt Hermione had left that Harry Potter was an ordinary person went out the window, which was moving around the ivy walls in a seemingly random manner, showing her the park that they just left.

Harry looked at the table and two glass bottles of coke appeared, along with a plate of brightly-colored sweet things that no child would dislike. "Here you go. I know my place isn't much--",

"Not Much?!" Hermione interrupted.

"...But I call it home and it's better than living in...with my relatives," Harry finished. He opened his coke and sat down. "Plus my friends are here."

"Harry. This is the most amazing place I have ever been in. It's incredible! I feel like I'm in a whole new world!"

"You are," Harry replied, smiling. "Welcome to the world of magic."

"You said other people live here?" Hermione looked around, expecting to see a door to another room or a set of stairs.

"Well...not people, exactly. You met Hedwig, my owl, earlier. And that's Nathair trying to scare you." Harry pointed above and behind her head, which immediately snapped around to follow Harry's gaze.

"Eeeeep!" Hermione let out a very girlish scream.

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you. That's just his weird sense of humor. He's been begging me to bring someone here for months just so he could do that." Harry glared at him playfully, and he stopped terrorizing Hermione and went back into the vines on the ceiling. "There is nothing here that will hurt you as long as you don't try and hurt me. The animals, and even the tree itself, are all very protective of me," he said, proudly.

"So--so you made all of this with your magic?" She was still looking around in wonder, now also making sure there weren't any other things trying to play with her.

"Some of it," Harry started. He, too, looked around in wonder, remembering how it was in the beginning. "It was originally just a spot where nobody could see me with a couple of branches that made a nice seat. But then, as I practiced my magic, I think the tree absorbed some of it. Back in those days, I really didn't know how to control the flow of my magic, and I think the part that wasn't used in my spell got sent into the environment, which is what I think allows the tree to grow me some furniture. It was so excited to hear that we would be having company that it grew that chair a few hours ago, just for you." He pointed at the chair that Hermione was sitting on.

"The animals and bugs all like me because I make food for them. Except the spiders. They all left right after I started really getting into my magic." Hermione relaxed a bit after hearing that. "And the flowers and things started growing a few weeks ago as a birthday present from the tree."

"The tree gave you a birthday present?" Hermione asked, unbelievingly.

"Yep," Harry smiled. "But you think that a tree can't give people presents, don't you?"

"Well, it is just a tree after all," reasoned Hermione.

"And that's just a chair you're sitting on. And my friends are just animals. Your first lesson is this: With magic, nothing is what it seems. The only limit is what you can believe in." At the mention of learning, Hermione snapped out of her wonder and looked at him.

"Right. Magic. So, I'm guessing that instead of a wand, you have a piece of chalk? That's unusual. And will I have to learn Japanese?"

"No, the chalk is just for when I make portals. And I don't really know Japanese. I just use that to help me focus. The portal is one of my harder spells, and it helps to use things in a symbolic way." Hermione recognized the beginning of an intellectual discussion, and focused intently on Harry. "Right. Well, the chalk helps me visualize where I want the portal itself to be, and drawing the line down the middle helps with actually opening it. Also, it has a practical use, since it seems to be hard to make a portal on something that is hard to write on. Cement is the easiest, dirt is very hard, and glass and water I have never gotten to work.

"Writing the Japanese character means that I don't have to think as intensely about where the portal goes, since in my mind, any portal that uses the tree symbol comes here."

"That makes sense, I guess."

"Magic is really just wishing--no, believing that something is true, and letting it happen." Harry thought back for a moment and decided where to begin. He sighed. "I really hope I don't lose my new friend over this."

Hermione heard him sigh. "What's wrong?"

"Hermione, you're just too annoying for me to teach." Harry watched as Hermione took it like a physical blow. "You're a know-it-all." Flinch. "You're bossy." Flinch. "And you have big gerbil teeth." Snap.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Hermione screamed. Her face was red with anger as tears streamed down her cheeks. Harry felt her magic building up. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE DIFFERENT! YOU'RE SMART, YOU'RE FUNNY, AND YOU NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT MY--MY STUPID, BIG TEETH!"

"Great, now hold onto that feeling and use it to make some light. I know you can do it, you're magic's very strong right now," Harry said as he turned off his light spell.

Hermione did not choose to use a harmless light spell. She decided to cast a spell that would bother Harry. And she did this while her magic was uncontrolled and filled with anger. Harry was knocked to the ground and everything went dark for him.