1 Chapter 1: Questions Asked and Mysteries Solved

(A/N)

Has anyone thought that if the multiverse theory is real, then the stories authors write and even fanfic authors write could be a real universe out there, and if that's the case then authors are more like seers and they are just getting glimpses of the different universes out of the infinite universes out there. Just a thought I had to share and see what people thought about it.

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Chapter 1: Questions Asked and Mysteries Solved

Harry groaned as he tried to straighten up from the ball he'd curled into afther Vernon had tossed into his cupboard.

His head was pounding. and the scar on his forehead was particularly throbbing. having caught a direct blow from Vernon's knuckles.His eye was also black and blue. and his nose felt broken.

While this wasn't the first time Vernon had beaten hime like this. this was one of the worst beating Harr could remember

and his mind was all jumbled up. "But is really was an honest mistake." He groaned to himself while he began to crawl towards the small blanket that he called his bed in one corner.

It had been and actual mistake too. though it was Harry's rather than the teacher as Harry had tried to imply. Almost since the

day the Dursleys had been forced to send him to school Harry had been very careful to get lower scores than Dudley. The beathing he had gotten in primary the first time he brought home an assignement sheet with a 'Fantastic' sticker on it had stayed with him.

But scoring lower than Dudley particulary in Reading and Writing took a lot of effort. And this time Harry had made a mistake.he had put down what he thought was the wrong answer on a vocabulary quiz. but it turned out it had been the right one.

Of course the teacher's comment of FINALLY seeing some improvement from a boy she knows is smarter than he lets on in his tests had added to the effect of the 'little freak' scoring better than 'my dearest Duddykins. Harry scowled ath that tought. The beating had begun with Aunt Petunia, and had continued when Vernon came home in a bad mood about something from his work at Grunnings. Worse it was Friday, so neither of the Dursleys had to worry about keeping to where his injuries wouldn't show.

Harry wasn't very bother about any of the injuries to his chest or back, Harry knew he'd be healed by Monday, it had happened before. His head throbbing likeit was though, that was worrying. Worse he was beginning to get flashes of dreams, they were almost like memories, full sight, sound and sensation memories.

Pulling the rag he called a blanket over himself Harry groaned, curling up into a ball again. Bugger me, they really worked me over this time, the last time I've felt this way was... Suddenly Harry's thoughts ground to a halt, as he remembered that incident.

Dudley and his gang of bullies had decided they didn't want to run after Harry any longer, and had taken to throwing stones at him instead. One of them had caught him in the cheek, and Harry had feared they would put out his eyes if they continued to fling stones at him.

Before this how Harry had escaped them that time was hazy, but now it came through bright and clear in his mind. He had run away, only to find that the alleyway he had run into near the school was a dead end. He had heard them coming, had felt the pain in his cheek, had heard them shouting, "20 points for the eye, 50 if you can hit the freak's scar!"

Harry had panicked trying desperately to think of how to get away, how to reach a safe place. He heard one of them shout to the others, he ducked as a rock had hit the wall behing him, and suddenly, Harry was no longer in the alleyway, but up on top of a roof nearby.

The memory was so vivd now! He could remember the feel of the shingles under his feet, his old hand me down sneakers so thin on the botton he could actually feel each shingle in turn as he skated a little down the side of the slanted roof. He remembered with a wince the pain he felt when he desperately grabbed onto a chimney to stop himself from losing his footing.

He could even remember the sounds of the three bullies below him shouting at one another about how they had missed him. But after that the memory faded back to nothing. Not like how memories from years ago faded, like the ones from his earlies years, which he could no longer tell were dreams or real memories, but simply nothing. Yet the rest of his memory of the incident was so clear...

"But, but that couldn't have happened, People can't just disappear form one place and appear somewhere else, Cant they?"

he said aloud staring up at the sloped ceiling of his cupboard, using some of the vocabulary he never would use in school or anywhere else it could get back to the Dursleys, "That's like something out of that Star Trek show, But I didn't have any kind of teleportation device or anything,"

The memory was so real, Harry thought, falling silent for a moment, It was a real memory, just as real as the memory of the beating I just took, or the recipes I've had to learn over the years, I don't have that good of an imagination, do I?

Then and odd thought occurred to him, possibly made from his latest beating. Could this be why, could I really be a freak? Could the Dursleys know about my ability to pop or whatever, and that's why they hate me?

Harry knew his so-called family hated him, he had seen far too many normal families and how they acted, even to relatives rather than their own children, to have any doubt on that score. What he had never been able to figure out before was WHY!

He did everyting he could to get on their good side, he cooked their meals, and he knew he was a better cook than Petunia by this point. He did all the chores he was assigned, Petunia had gotten some award for her roses of late because he was able to clear out all of the bus and weeds that would harm them, Then when 'Freak' was sent to school and found out his name was Harry Potter, he still routinely tried to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible after that first incident.

Yet nothing worked and still the Dursleys hated him. The beatings had become less over the years simply because harr was now spending most of his time at school or the municipal library, and Vernon and Petunia in particular were leery about giving people the 'wrong idea' by marking Harry where it would show in public.

Yet this could be the reason why they called him the freak. "But is it just because I can do that? I can't control it whatever it was, I was just so scared. He said aloud again, bringing one finger up to rub at his scar wincing at the pain of it. Suddenly he stopped, pulling away his finger and then touching his nose and eye gingerly. Then despite the pain he began to smile…

000000000000

Two days later was Monday, and Harry eagerly rushed out the door after preparing breakfast for the Dursleys, grabbing up an apple and some grapes from a bowl set on the table. None of the others save Petunia occasionally ever ate from that bowl so it was safe enough, it was simply there because the Dursleys thought it was normal to have a bowl of fruit on their dining table.

By the time Dudley tromped onto the bus waiting for them at the corner Harry had ensconced himself in the seat directly behind the driver, and had already finished eating. Dudley glared at him for a moment, but knew better than to try anything on the bus. The bus driver didn't care who you were, if you caused trouble he tossed you out. Dudley had seen it happen to a few older students, and it had stuck with him since.

The school day passed interminably for Harry until recess was announced. Then while all the other kids raced outside, Harry made his way to library. There Ms. Hicks the school librarian smiled down at him. "Hello Harry, what can I help you with today?"

Her smile turned sad as Harry flushed in happiness at her tone. It said something about his home life that simply speaking to him nicely caused Harry to feel so much happiness, and she made a mental note yet again to start up a file on him. Little did she know it would not be the first time she or any of the other teachers had done so. But nothing would come of it, again.

"Good morning Ms. Hicks." Harry replied politely. "I'd like to use one of the computers if that's all right? I'd like to look something up."

"You sure you don't want to look it up in one of the books?"Ms. Hicks asked even as she stood up from her desk, leading Harry over to one of the computers, one that allowed him to watch the doorway since she knew he felt more at ease that way. She winced when Harry flinched at her gentle touch on the top of his head. Yes, she really did need to start a file on him.

"I don't think I'll be able to find what I'm looking for there, Ms. Hicks." Harry replied, still respectfully, but inching away slightly from the older woman. Some of the teachers had tried to act friendly with to him in the past, one had even asked if Harry would like to see if he could find a new family. But that teacher had suddenly moved away, and whenever the other ones started to ask questions, that too stopped abruptly, Harry didn't know why.

"All right, I know I can trust you on them, just don't stay in here all recess okay?"Ms. Hicks said smiling. "Boys need their exercise."

"Yes Ms. Hicks I will." Harry replied, sitting down at one of four computers in the library while Ms. Hicks went back to her desk.

The computers were a gift from a rich donator, and were almost brand-new, and they had access to the World Wide Web. Harry had heard Vernon remark on the WWW, how it was all newfangled technology and would never amount to anything. Harry disagreed though he kept it to himself of course. He believed the World Wide Web would continue to grow, just like computer technology

After a few minutes, Harry leaned back, frowning. He couldn't find the information he was looking for, but that did not dissuade him. The WWW was so new after all, the information just might not be available yet on it. It would just have been faster than trying to find the information in books. Thanking Ms. Hicks he left the room, but did not go outside, instead taking refuge in the classroom until recess ended.

After school Harry did not head back to Privet Drive, avoiding Dudley and his gang with the ease of long practice while racing to the refuge of the public library. The librarians there were all no nonsense sorts who didn't care who someone's family was or what you looked like. If you made noise or acted out in their library, you were out on your ear and would not be allowed back in.

After asking for help once again he was directed towards a section of books on health, though he ignored the ones that were supposedly for his age group, searching the others diligently. Eventually Harry found a book that covered some of the wounds Harry knew he had taken. They also told how long it would take a normal person to heal from them. After a moment, Harry had to lean back in shock. "is that right?"

According to the books, Harry healed hundreds of times faster than humans were normally supposed to. Athletes and those with perfect health of course healed faster than those without perfect health, but even so Harry knew he wasn't an athlete, and he didn't exactly have good hygiene since he wasn't able to really have a balanced diet. The occasional granola bar, a stolen sandwich when he could get away with it, and fruit was basically all he could eat outside the occasional cafeteria meal at the school which was free with enrollment, else Harry knew the Dursleys would not have paid for it.

"So not only do I heal faster than someone with my diet and general health should, but I heal faster than anyone should! It's not perfect like that comic book character what's his name, Wolverine?" Harry had seen that comic book occasionally among Dudley's collection. "His doesn't leave scars, but this does. My, my healing factor I suppose, it just keeps me alive and relatively whole. But, but HOW, WHY

Those were the thoughts that kept ringing in his head as Harry made his way back to the Dursleys. Petunia met him at the door, grabbing his shoulder firmly was the doors closed. "It's about time you came home! Dinner time's barely an hour away and you haven't even started, get cooking!" She growled, pushing him towards the kitchen then going back to her favorite pastime of spying on her neighbors.

As Harry entered the kitchen he heard her mutter. "That's the same mailman that came by yesterday, and he's not the normal one assigned here either, I wonder… that would be such a scandal!"

Harry shook his head sadly then put what he just heard out of his mind as he quickly fell into the routine of fixing one of the Dursleys' huge dinners. He was even able to sneak some for himself since Petunia was the only one at home and she was busy staring out the window trying to see what was going on behind the curtains next-door, not having noticed that the mailman had come and gone long since.

Dudley came home soon after that but headed up to his room without bothering Harry. He knew that if he did bother Harry when he was cooking the food would be late, and if there was one thing that Dudley took seriously it was food.

A few minutes later Vernon was home and Harry quickly made his way out of the kitchen saying "dinners on the table." With that he rushed over to his cupboard opening and closing the door quickly once he was inside.

Vernon glared after him then shook his head, muttered "Freak", and made his way over to the table, where a heavy steak and kidney pie waited, along with some garlic bread sticks.

"He's not the only one." Petunia said, shaking her head as she to set down. "I think Mrs. Cripps next-door might be having an affair!"

In his cupboard Harry took out the food he'd grabbed, several bits sticks, as well as a pen he had stolen from the small table next to the kitchen door that held the phone and a few books. Pulling his small incredibly tattered bookbag out, he turned to a precious page of the one notebook he had, which had to last him all of his classes all year-long, and wrote down in very tiny scribbles what he had discovered.

He made a note of putting down the name of the book he had looked up the information on healing down as well since it might prove helpful in the future. Then in the light of the one sparking overhead light that was in the cupboard he leaned against the wall of his cupboard and said aloud "What else? Think, think like a scientist conducting an experiment, like the older boys do, taking note of changes in their plants."

For a moment Harry couldn't think of anything, and scrubbed his hands through his hair irritably. Then he pulled them away gasped."My hair, that's it!"

Petunia had been forced to give him a haircut before this school year began because the first form kids were going to have photos taken and she refused to let him have a photo taken with his normal messy hair. Not because she cared what he looked like, but because she worried what people would think of her and her family.

It'd been horrible, a misshapen thing with half of his head almost sheared off and the other half just a little longer. But the next day when Harry woke up to go to school, his hair had grown back to its normal disheveled appearance. Petunia had ranted and raved about it, but thankfully Vernon had already left for the day for an early-morning meeting. He'd also come home in a good mood, and Harry only had taken a few light slaps upside the head after school from Petunia.

"But I couldn't control that, and I didn't control the teleportation either." After a few moments thinking about that he thought to himself: Maybe that's because I didn't know about them? Now that I do can I control it?

Harry decided to see if he could control his hair first figuring that would be less dangerous. He could all too easily remember the fear that he felt hanging onto the chimney as he stared down at the alley all that way below him.

He waited, breathless with anticipation and eagerness while the Dursleys finished their meal then watched television for a few hours before trooping off to bed one after another. As usual Petunia rapped on the door to his cupboard shouting "the dishes better be done before I wake up tomorrow Potter!"

For some reason when she said Harry's last name, she put as much vitriol in the word as Vernon or Dudley could the word 'freak' at their worst. Harry had no idea why that was, nor any inclination to ask. "Yes, Aunt Petunia." he replied simply, politely as always.

He heard a sniff then listened as she followed her husband up the stairs above him, the creaking of the steps under Vernon's weight almost drowning out the noise of her own passage. Then he moved out of the cupboard and into the kitchen, diligently doing the work that Petunia had ordered him to do. After that and feeling very daring, he made his way back towards his cupboard, then closed the door, but remained outside.

He waited there in the dark of the hallway breathless at this little bit of rebellion as the noise above subsided slowly, Vernon and Dudley falling asleep. Petunia would remain awake reading her fashion magazines for a few minutes before turning in. It was the same every night, staid and above all normal, just the way the Dursleys like it.

But Harry, Harry wanted change. He wanted it so desperately he could taste it on his tongue, and whatever this was, whatever made the Dursleys think him a freak, he was willing to grab it with both hands and run with it if he could. With that in mind Harry slowly made his way back down the hallway and into the small bathroom set by the laundry room on the other side of the hallway from the stairs.

Trembling slightly Harry closed the door, wincing at the slight click when the catch caught despite his best efforts. Thankfully the hinges were well oiled, something Harry had been ordered to do a few weeks ago. With the door closed, Harry pulled off his shirt stuffing it into the area directly underneath the door in an effort to keep the light from showing just in case. Then he turned on the light, and stared at himself in the mirror.

Harry's face was thin, just this side of malnourished. He had huge spectacles on his face, which barely fit his face and Harry knew that they didn't actually help his vision all that much these days, if they ever had. His green eyes stared at his reflection, and Harry absently brushed the hair off of his forehead so that his lightning scar was visible.

He stared at it for a moment as he always did at times like this. Petunia had told him he'd gotten it in the car wreck that had killed his drunkard parents, but Harry didn't believe it. Oh, the scar might've come from something like that, but he didn't believe his parents were drunkards.

He sometimes remembered their voices, though whether from dreams or memories he no longer knew, nor cared. A deep baritone and light feminine voice laughing and someone else barking, either a dog or someone whose laughter was like a dog's bark Harry could never tell. Sometimes, those memories were accompanied by flashes of color, red, brown, and sometimes green, though those memories were never good ones.

But right now Harry was a boy on a mission, and he shook his head from those thoughts, staring at his hair in the reflection. "How do I do this?"Harry had no idea, so he simply stared at his hair, trying to will it to change trying to imagine it a deep purple or green, but it didn't work, he couldn't keep the image in his mind. Then he tried something simpler, simply trying to imagine it longer, concentrating on that idea while gritting his teeth.

It took forever, the image wavering in his mind as he stared at the reality in the mirror, but slowly the hair actually changed, becoming longer, now falling past his eyes. "Oh wow!" He whispered excitedly, using all of his self-control not to shout or jump around in joy. Yet the moment he stopped concentrating on it his hair quickly shifted back to normal, shrinking as he watched.

But even so, Harry knew he had done it and knew it was possible to do it again. He took a step back, grinning so widely his mouth hurt from the unusual exercise.....

In the comic books mutants normally had one power, or several connected ones like Susan Storm. But Harry couldn't see a connection between being able to grow his hair, or possibly do more to it than that, and being able to teleport from one place to another.

Harry went to bed that evening still thinking about that, and the next day at school stared in shock at the answer directly in front of him in the book he was reading in mandatory reading. The teacher had innocently suggested it to him a few minutes ago. It was the Sword in the Stone, a book that was quite a few levels above Harry's known level, but the teacher had an idea that Harry's reading level was actually quite a bit higher than he let on.

"Magic…" Harry murmured, so low no one else around him heard it.

That evening Harry made notes again in his little notebook, as usual his small neat writing using every bit of space, frowning thoughtfully.

That evening and for the next few evenings Harry snuck out of his cupboard into the bathroom and began to try to manipulate his hair. He found that some changes became easier with time. After a week Harry was able to change the color of his hair yet he couldn't change the style without concentrating on it. When Harry stopped concentrating on his hair color, it tended to stay for a time, but he couldn't change his hairstyle and couldn't even make it grow without his concentrating on it. He wondered why, and made notes on this bit of research in his little notebook.

After two weeks of experimenting with his hair however, Harry was prepared to branch out. But he didn't have nearly as much luck in this area as with his hair. There was a huge difference between imagining his hair being somehow different to trying to imagine himself somewhere else than he currently was. He couldn't keep the image in his head long enough, couldn't concentrate hard enough to make the magic come out, or whatever.

This all changed when one day Harry was walking to the library. He was intent on looking up anything that could possibly help him figure out a way to concentrate more when he heard a voice behind him. "Hey Harry, guess what time it is?"

Harry turned quickly, staring as Dudley, Piers and a few of their friends came up behind him. "It's Harry Hunting time!" Dudley said, his piggy face smirking maliciously at his cousin. "But we figured we'd give you a head start this time, you've got 10 seconds to run, then we're coming after you."

To one side of Dudley, Piers laughed with all the malicious happiness a young bully could contain. "Better get a move on freak!"

Harry didn't need telling twice and raced off down the streets. He initially attempted to make for the safe haven of the public library but Dudley had taken a shortcut and gotten there ahead of him blocking off that safe zone, forcing Harry to run away in another direction until he was lost in the alleyways behind the small shopping area.

He found himself in the back of the supermarket wishing fervently that the door to set one side would open, but knowing he wouldn't be that lucky. Behind him Harry heard their voices as they rounded the corner. "You know it's been a while since we've had throwing practice Dudster, and the freak does make a good target!"

Harry cringed inside then desperately began to try and climb up over the little wall between him and the back of the supermarket. But Harry wasn't a very good climber never having had much practice and not having much upper body strength either. He was barely halfway up the wall when a stone caught him in the shoulder. "40 points right off the bat!" Dudley gloated behind him.

Harry winced as he fell to the ground, holding his shoulder in agony. He looked around desperately for an escape, but the four boys were standing in a row in the alleyways entrance, all of them holding small stones. Piers tried his luck next, and Harry dodged to one side. "Damn it, stay still freak!"

"Hah that makes it even better!" said one of the other boys whose name Harry didn't know. "Let's add 10 points to each hit we get when he's movin' around like that!"

"Hah that makes it even better!" said one of the other boys whose name Harry didn't know. "Let's add 10 points to each hit we get when he's movin' around like that!"

"This is like an arcade game, only better!" laughed Dudley, throwing a stone."

Harry ducked again, hearing the whiz of the stone as it flew by his head, his eyes now widening in fear behind his glasses. Got to get away, got to get away! Have to get away!

After a brief argument about turns, the four boys in front of Harry all hurled their stones as one. Harry closed his eyes wishing himself elsewhere desperately with all the concentration he could muster in his fear-fueled state.

And suddenly he was. Harry collapsed to the asphalt in the small parking lot alongside the library. He was in an unused corner with a small tree in it, where Harry had fond memories of napping a time or two when Dudley was busy elsewhere. He stood up, shakily, and tried to move away from the tree he was leaning against only to frown when he looked down at his hand, which WASNT THERE!

Harry brought up his other hand to his mouth to hold back the scream as he saw that his hand was gone, old habits of holding in his cries in fear of getting punished worse coming to the fore. He began to hyperventilate, wondering what happened. How did, d-did I leave it behind? Is that even possible?

Suddenly he heard loud popping noises all around him, and odd man in very odd clothing, appeared. One of them pointed at Harry. "This must be the one George," He said, moving over to Harry quickly. "Worst case of accidental magic I've ever seen, whoever heard of a youngster being able to apparate?"

"We'll see what the other team has to say about that." The man so addressed said, moving over towards Harry with his hands held out calmly. "Calm down boyo, we're here to help you. Don't worry you'll have your hands back like new, Wood and Alders will fetch it quick, just keep calm okay? Don't scream, the more attention you bring, the more work you make for us understand?"

The voice wasn't angry or confrontational, simply matter of fact and somewhat sympathetic, though not as friendly as the first voice. Still Harry calmed down, taking his mouth away from his hand. "Yes sir."

He tilted his head up to look at the man, his hair falling back from his forehead for a moment and both men gasped. "Harry Potter!" said the one whose name hadn't been mentioned yet. "Well I guess that explains it then, though why were you trying to apparate?"

"Who's he staying with anyway?" said George scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Headmaster Dumbledore never said, no matter what the Wizengamot tried to threaten him with. All he would say was that he was safe, remember?"

At that moment there were two more pops and two more men appeared, one of them holding Harry's missing hand gingerly. Harry was astonished to note that the hand and his own arm looked as if they were simply taken apart like a Lego toy, there was no blood or pus or anything!

"Here's the lad's hand." said one of them, a large man with bull shoulders and a Scottish accent. "Poor bugger."

"What's wrong Wood?"

The man so addressed didn't respond just yet. Instead he moved through the other men, kneeling down in front of Harry. "We're you bein' bullied laddie?"

Harry hesitantly nodded his head and the man nodded back. He turned back to look up at the other man even as he held out his missing hand to Harry, pushing it against the stump of his wrist while addressing the men all around."There were four brats bigger than this young'un all of them holding rocks, and shouting out how 'the freak' went and disappeared on them at the initial locus."He said his tone grim. "Some blood on the wall of the alleyway they were standing intoo. They get you anywhere laddie?"

"My, my shoulder sir."Answered Harry hesitantly.

"Ach well,we'll deal with your hand first then your shoulder. By the by, is this the first time this has happened?"

"What do you mean Sir?" "The bullying laddie." Scottish man said, holding Harry's arm gently while another man ran what looked like some kind of stick, or maybe a wand like in the books he'd been reading, along the arm there.

"Flex your hand and fingers for a bit, we need to know if it's connected right?" The man with the wand, George, said. Watching as Harry did so he smiled. "Good, now flex your wrist."Harry did so, and both men smiled. "Good, now for the shoulder."

Over Harry's feeble protests his shirt was removed, causing hissing among the men as they saw his back. Harry always tried to curl up into a ball whenever Vernon began to beat on him, and his back had almost always taken the majority of the damage. As such he had scars that crisscrossed his back, many from a belt buckle or belt, some from a poker, some from Vernon's fists opening up the skin on his back.

"W-what, by Merlin, Morgana and Maeve, what is this?" said one of them, one of the two that hadn't been named. "This is Harry-ruddy-Potter damn it! Who in their right mind would, would do that to him!"

The one called George simply methodically healed Harry's shoulder then said something Harry couldn't understand before running his wand over Harry's back, frowning as a light at the wand's tip changed from blue to red. "This is all so old I don't think I can reverse it." He said, shaking his head.

"That's abuse that is!" said the one called Wood, standing up at and glowering around at the others, giving off the impression of a volcano that was about to erupt. While Harry pulled on his shirt, he tried to make himself smaller, knowing nothing good ever came from this much attention.

"Oh dear." said an elderly voice, from behind the crowd of men. "This is a problem."

"Professor!" Said one man turning and staring as Harry did the same at a man who looked as if he was Merlin come to life from a few pictures of him Harry had seen in various picture books about King Arthur. Though upon reflection, Harry felt that Merlin would not wear a bright green robe with pink polka dots on it.

"I applaud you for your quick reaction time gentlemen, it's such a sad state of affairs when bullying gets out of hand among young boys isn't it?Now, I will take it from here and take young Harry back to his family, and have a stern talking to with them and with the youths in question."

At this three of the men nodded their heads somberly, willing to entrust this newcomer with Harry's safety for some reason Harry didn't understand given how they'd acted before the others however Wood sounded angry as he confronted the old man. "Headmaster wha' is goin' on here!" He said pointing angrily down at Harry who flinched a little at the finger. "This isn't a case of bullyin', this is…"

By that time the old man had stepped in amongst the man, and Harry watched as a wand appeared in his hand faster than Harry could blink. The wand looked different from the other two Harry had seen so far. It had little bumps along its length, which looked almost like knuckles sort of or lumps on a tree. Before any of the men could do anything, he intoned "Obliviate!" and Harry knew no more.

OOOOOOO

Harry looked around his cupboard, trying to remember how he came to be there for a moment before he remembered that he had hurried home, which was odd since he never used the word 'home' to think about Privet Drive. He fixed dinner and then moved into his cupboard, though for some reason his mind seemed to try and supply the word 'room' for a moment before being taken over by reality.

Though the reason for his desire to enter his cupboard so quickly escaped Harry. He had a niggling impression that he had thought of something he wanted to read, but Harry didn't have any books, the school library didn't let book go home unless the family paid a fee, and the Dursleys would never do that. And he couldn't get a library card without his guardian's okay.

Shrugging, Harry simply decided he must've wanted to go over his notes from class for some reason, and pulled his small dingy backpack open pulling out his very tattered notebook. Reading through the last few pages however Harry frowned. Has someone been into my notebook?

There were notes there that Harry didn't remember making, but as Harry looked at him, he saw they were in his handwriting! Why would I do that, I don't have enough room in here to waste on imaginings, and they're in pen too! I can't even erase them! Harry scowled angrily throwing the notebook down onto his bed, shaking his head in leaning against the wall of his cupboard. But his eyes kept on going back to the notes, as he tried to work out why in the world he would've done that.

He couldn't remember doing it, which was another odd thing. Harry knew he had a decent enough memory, certainly better than Dudley's, or indeed any of the other students in his class. Once he wrote down something himself, he remembered it. Why'd I do that? He thought scowling angrily. And in pen too!

Yet his eyes continued to stray to it, until finally he sighed. All right, there's an easy way of checking to see if this is anything but some weird craziness that I can't remember.

That evening Harry snuck into the bathroom and stared at himself then down at the notes before staring back up into his image in the mirror. He concentrated, and after only a few seconds he watched in shock as his hair began to change color.

It really does get easier over time then! With that thought in mind Harry quickly made his way back to his cupboard, turned on the hanging light and began to read the notes he had made avidly.

A few hours later Harry was still awake, frowning in thought as his finger tapped the word 'magic' among his notes, where it had been underlined and even circled. He'd read through his notes several times, and felt he understood what he'd been doing, but one thing continued to bother him. How did I forget about it?

Harry worried at that problem for several minutes without coming to a solution, however a sudden thought came to him as he looked down at one of the first notes, which read 'could the Dursleys know about this, is that why?' If that's so Harry thought, then could other people know? But if so, how would they have made me forget about all this?

After a moment he came up with a solution that to his young yet intelligent mind made sense. There could be other magic users around. And I suppose there could be spells dealing with the mind, though if so, could there be magics against that kind of thing too? But, but why wouldn't someone want me to know?

Sighing, he put that thought aside. Too little information, nothing I can do about that. But, if they don't want me to know about magic, what does that mean? Could they want me to be normal, or could they just want me to be weak?Harry was used to people wanting him to be weak, the Dursleys did everything they could to beat him down. This was the first time that Harry thought there might actually be a reason behind it, rather than just something about him that set them off.

Once that thought began, there was no stopping it. The Dursleys said my parents died in a car crash, but what if they didn't, what if they had enemies, and what if those enemies are now looking for me?Then magic might be the only way to fight against them. Harry's face firmed in a way that a young just turned 10-year-old boy's face, no matter how intelligent or adult he had to act at times, should have been able to.

But does that mean that the Dursleys are either enemies, or are simply pawns like in chess? Shrugging his shoulders on that, Harry realized that either spelled trouble for him if they found out that he knew about his magic.

He decided to go through his notes again, trying to figure out what bit of experimentation had alerted whoever it was that had taken his memories. After a moment he stopped, frowning. So I moved from trying to do something with my hair to, to teleportation? That's a huge leap! But teleportation doesn't have a lot of notes here. So that must've been what alerted whoever it was.

But if what I can do is really magic, why would be limited to just stuff I can do with my hair or teleportation? Magic isn't limited, that's part of what makes it magic, right? With that thought in mind Harry grinned, but then took out a pen and wrote a very small message to himself just in case. 'Yes these pen messages are from you, no you are not crazy, signed Harry Potter,' and the date afterwards.

With that done Harry spent the rest of the night writing down thoughts of what he could do with magic. It wasn't a very long list, but the list of things he wanted to do with magic was. In particular one was underlined. That note said 'figure out a way to hide your notebook.'

If whoever it was that had taken his memories came back and they found out about his notebook somehow then he'd lose all of his work. That had to be stopped, and that didn't even include Dudley. He routinely messed with Harry's stuff, especially his school stuff just because he could.

Harry spent the next two few days spending all of his free time in the library going through every book that had magic in it, the Sword in the Stone, Island of the Mighty, the Prydain chronicles, though he did have some trouble with that one, and many, many more. He even tried his hand at some of the older teen books, including some Terry Pratchett books.

Feeling greatly daring Harry also tried one of the nearby comic stores, despite it being one of Dudley's main hangouts. He had to run away from another bout of Harry Hunting after that, but was able to get away cleanly.

One idea that stuck out with him was that wizards in many books could make themselves unseen. The most interesting was Granny Weatherwax's, which was a sort of 'uninteresting field' that she could project, simply becoming part of the background. It didn't seem to stand up to a lot of exercise or something of that nature, but Harry felt that had a lot of potential for hiding his notebook.

That evening Harry once again spent a sleepless night staring down at his notebook, somehow trying to force to become invisible or unnoticeable. It didn't work. Sighing, he laid it beside his school books before reaching up to the hanging light. Only to stop, staring from the school books to the notebook. "If I can't make it unnoticeable, could I disguise it?"

The next day at school Dudley finally cornered Harry for the first time in days. He knocked Harry down from behind, spilling all of his school stuff out of his bag. "Watch where you're going Potter!"

He laughed, stepping forward to break several of Harry's pencils as he walked through the clutter, reaching down quickly to pick up a book. He frowned however when he noticed that it had the school stamp on it and with a huff threw it down again. Ms. Hicks was hell on anyone who damaged her priceless books, and Dudley had learned that she was one of the teachers that actually listened to the freak for some wouldn't be worth it to do anything to a school book.

Just then one of his friends shouted at him from the cafeteria entrance. "They've got pizza Dudley, come on!"

Dudley raced off as fast as his pudgy legs could carry him, while behind him Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He picked up his notebook, the cover and spine of which he had changed to look like a book from the school, a picture bookthe class had been reading lately.

Harry bent down to pick up his stuff while all around him the other students of the school moved around him with the ease of long practice, some of them even snickering while others simply shook their heads. Harry however allowed himself a small smile. It worked!

Over the next few weeks Harry began to experiment, doing small little things to see what was possible and what wasn't. Of course when he noted what wasn't he simply put down 'yet'. The books he'd read that all dealt with magic were so wide and varied he was unwilling to say that anything was impossible with it. He also got far better at changing his hair color, though he still couldn't do anything about its normal scruffy appearance.

Eventually he even could do things with his clothes, though that was much harder. After the first time where he had changed how his clothes looked, their colors and the shape of them, he almost collapsed from exhaustion. That was an important learning experience: that magic took something out of him. His change of clothes and hair however was worth it because they allowed Harry to move around the neighborhood in relative safety for the first time since Dudley and his friends wouldn't mess with a child they didn't know.

That kind of thing brought trouble, as it had the one time they tried it with an exchange student, who did not only fight back, but blabbed to his parents. Those were good few days, Harry thought to himself as he remembered them. Dudley, Vernon and Petunia were all walking on egg shells, because apparently the transfer student was the son of some army man who'd just gotten medically discharged. But it faded after a while when that family moved away to a better area, and things went back to normal.

With his new looks Harry explored areas where he hadn't dared to go before for fear of Dudley and his gang, in particular the nearby park, which backed a small but overgrown national park. In there Harry found an area where no one could see him, and he began to use that place for some of his experiments, continuing to keep his notes as he went as well as he could.

From changing how things looked or their size he moved on to levitating things, which was surprisingly much easier. Harry reasoned that changing something was much harder than simply moving its place in the world. He started with one small pebble, then graduated from that into four small pebbles, holding them up at the same time, then moving them around each in a different way. It was hard, and it really strained his mental muscles, but even so afterwards Harry felt elated, somewhat tired, but not as much as that first time he'd changed the way his clothes looked.

Over the next few months after that, Harry's experiments got more and more varied. He learned that emotions powered the spells somewhat at one point when he began his experiments after a particularly ugly bout of teasing from Dudley and Vernon when he hadn't been allowed to escape into his cupboard after fixing them dinner. When Harry, entering his cupboard saw his little stones piled into a corner he scowled angrily at them, and then waved his hand hard, not expecting anything to really happen because he wasn't concentrating very much.

When the stones zoomed off away from that corner into the other one with small 'spang' sounded as they hit the wall he gasped in shock. The sight also calmed down somewhat, and he frowned. "Emotions," he mused to himself, then moved over to sit down. From that point he decided to experiment a bit with the emotions, though not much.

That was because when he tried to use anger again, he found it more difficult to control himself afterwards, and decided that that experiment was one area he didn't want to go got angry all the time at the smallest of things from Harry's point of view, and he always took that anger out on Harry. Harry did not want to be like Vernon in any way, shape or form.

On the other hand, happiness also seemed to be able to power certain spells, though the effect was weird. When he was levitating his pebbles, gesturing with one hand as he sometimes did because that helped him concentrate, he brought to mind the feelings of joy that he'd felt when he first realized that the notes about magic in his notebook were real. Instead of powering the spell however, making the task easier or perhaps even making the stones fly up higher, a silvery sheen began to appear around him, but it only lasted for a few moments before Harry collapsed into exhaustion.

When he came to a few moments later he shook his head groggily. "All right, so anger is easier, but harder to control, and happiness, maybe good feelings in general, are harder to use but their effect is weird." He grinned to himself for a moment then pulled out his trusty notebook. "You learn new things every day."

OOOOOOO

Months went by like this, with Harry becoming better and better at controlling his magic, and with certain things becoming easier and easier. It's like a muscle,Harry thought to himself more than once. The more you use it, the easier it becomes.Where before he had only been able to levitate four pebbles, each the size of his pinky, now he was levitating four far larger stones, each the size of his before Harry had trouble concentrating for very long, that too had become easier.

If only I could do something permanent about my hair but that seems beyond me so far, he thought to himself, stopping in a small hidden alcove by the Park entrance right behind where it became the normal park area to change back into normal Harry. Clothing he could change for a few hours before they began to change back, but his hair always went back to normal quickly if he stopped thinking about it. Once his clothes and hair were back to normal Harry hurried home, eager to get his chores over with and head into the cupboard before Vernon got home.

Today that plan didn't work. The moment the door opened Petunia grabbed his shoulder and hustled him into the kitchen smacking him upside the head for emphasis. "About time you got home you lousy layabout, get to work on dinner! Vernon had an important meeting today, and I want everything pristine and perfect for when he gets home is that understood!" She emphasized every word with a smack on the head, but Harry took it stoically. At least she wasn't using a frying pan as she had on more than one occasion.

"Yes Aunt Petunia." He answered dutifully. "What exactly would you like?"

"Fried chicken, gravy and potatoes! Good, hearty food. Now get to work. Honestly, with all we've given up to put clothes on your back!" With that she hurried off, heading up the stairs.

Harry shook his head sadly watching her go. He honestly didn't know if the Dursleys were his enemies or not, but they certainly hated him. Yet for some reason he just couldn't find it in himself to hate them back. They were just so, so pitiful! So happy to keep going in their normal, small lives, so certain in their worldview that they couldn't even understand that someone else could see the world differently. It was so small of them that though he loathed and feared them, he couldn't hate them, instead pitying them.

He smirked to himself even as he moved over towards the freezer. Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop working on my magic and as soon as I can figure out a way to get the hell out of here! That was the dream that had powered a lot of his investigations into magic: the idea that he would eventually be able to get away from the Dursleys.

He knew he wouldn't be able to do it quickly. After all, if someone else with magic was his enemy, he couldn't really use magic all the time to get away from them, or else he might draw their attention back to him. But even so, he could use it as a starting point, which was why he was so frustrated about his hair.

Over the next hour or so Harry busied himself cooking, finding a certain sense of peace in the task, which he always did. Despite the fact that he never got to eat most of the food he made, there was something soothing about going about his business, knowing that none of the others in the house would dare bother him while he did it.

That serenity ended the moment Vernon got home. Harry could almost feel it in the air even before the man trooped in. The screech of the tires as he drove into the garage, the sharp slam of the car door, told Harry that something had happened at work and Vernon was once again angry. And it's a Friday, Harry thought, his heart sinking. Oh please, just this once, let him have found some other outlet for his anger.

Petunia and Dudley could sense it too, remaining quiet throughout dinner as Vernon bellowed about some topic or other on the news, angrily masticating his food as he stared at Harry who he'd ordered to remain in one of the kitchen corners glaring at him hatefully. Worse he drank heavily, which was never a good sign for Harry.

He was almost tempted to bolt for his cupboard now. Once he was inside his cupboard Vernon rarely went to the effort of opening it and dragging him out to beat him. But the way Vernon's attention kept on coming back to him throughout the 'conversation' meant that would be a very bad idea.

Finally Petunia broached the subject that had been on her mind almost visibly the entire dinner. "So dear, did you…"

"No I bloody well did not!" Vernon bellowed angrily, slamming his fat hands down on the table and getting up explosively fast for all of his bulk such was his anger. "We didn't impress the client enough with our 'character', whatever the bloody-fuck that means!" Vernon growled turning and throwing his beer bottle at Harry.

The beer bottle hit his head causing him to fall to the ground with a cry. "It's all your damn fault! Ever since we took you in all you've done is suck the energy out of my life!" Vernon bellowed, moving over to him and kicking the down Harry repeatedly. "I've been stuck in that one job, have never been able to go higher, always passed over! Your freakishness rubbing off on me, making other people look down on me!"

Harry screamed and cried as the blows kept on coming, and they didn't stop anytime soon. By the time Vernon was finished venting his anger on Harry, Harry knew that his arms were broken from where he had been holding them above his head, his head was bleeding severely from where it had been caught by the beer bottle, and his back was a mass of bruises.

He cried out as Vernon grabbed him by the shoulder roughly dragging him through the house and throwing him into the cupboard. "Freaks like you don't deserve more! You can stay in there until Monday or rot, I don't care which!"

Harry lay on the floor of his cupboard groaning aloud. He'd never been able to figure out how to accelerate his healing, he couldn't control his magic that much. Now though, his mind was consumed by a single thought. I have to get out of here! Anywhere somewhere else anywhere else but here.With pain fueled concentration Harry began to bring his magic to bear on that wish, pouring all of his willpower all of his magic into it. They'll kill me eventually if I stay here any longer, have to go have to get away, need to find a real home, need to find a real family!

Suddenly as he was concentrating on his own magic, it connected to something else, something magical around the house. Harry had no idea what it was, he could barely sense it, but as his own magic powers began to fade he grasped this new source of energy, sucking it dry in a single moment to power his pain and grief and fear fueled wish. Get me away from here!

With a loud clap of sound the cupboard was suddenly empty, leaving only the faintest trail of Harry's blood on the ground as Harry Potter disappeared from not only Number 4 Privet Drive, not just from the United Kingdom, but Earth entirely.

OOOOOOO

At the same time that Harry disappeared, or actually right before that when his magic instinctively reached out to that other nearby source to drain it dry, a small silvery object on a high shelf began to whistle and tweet on a shelf in a castle somewhere in the mores of Scotland. An elderly man, looked up in sudden alarm. This was the same man that had appeared to take his memories away as well as those of the men who had helped Harry after his teleportation accident, though Harry couldn't remember anything from the incident.

Moving with far more speed than a man his apparent age should be able to, he pushed himself away from his desk rounding it quickly and moving over to the number of devices and odd gewgaws that lined the shelf. Before he could get there however the small device that had initially whistled a warning suddenly shattered, flinging small shards of silver everywhere.

Quickly the man raised a hand and a shimmering energy field appeared in front of him. The shards of the explosion smacked into it falling harmlessly to the ground, and then the shield dissipated. After the last of the pieces fell to the floor the man pulled out his wand from one of his many pockets, running it over the devices while frowning. Turning he stared at a large bird with fiery plumage sitting on one shelf. "Fawkes to me." He ordered crisply.

The bird obeyed alighting on his shoulder, and a second later the office was empty. Seconds later he appeared without even the slightest hint of sound in the Dursleys backyard. With a single gesture from his wand, the man disappeared from anyone's normal senses, while the bird alighted on a nearby tree.

Looking around him he moved quickly to one of the corners of the garden, then gasped before hurrying to each of the other corners. In each corner he found the same thing, a small flat stone, crumbling quickly to dust. They had previously been so well hidden no one would have been able to find them, but that didn't matter now. The old man stood up from the last corner, and if anyone had been there to see, they would have noticed how his eyes seemed to gleam with unnatural light as he looked around him in consternation and growing worry.

The wards are gone! Not just the blood wards, but the unplottable and anti-mail wards! And not just gone, the very magic that made them has been somehow drained! But how could that be?! As long as the boy lives here the blood wards should still be viable and taking power from him, and I have never heard of anything that could simply drain magic from wards like that, not so quickly at any rate.

Resolutely the old man moving to Number 4's backdoor and without a pause teleporting through it easily after a single glance through it's window. He made to move past Petunia who was cleaning up dinner muttering angrily about the 'freak jinxing them', which caused the old man to frown even more, pausing in his steps.

He looked around the house, his frown turning into a scowl when he didn't see a single thing that showed there was a second boy living here. All the pictures on the wall were of a boy and a man who resembled one another strongly and the woman in front of him.

None of them showed the young boy he had seen so many months ago after that irritating incident. What is going on here? Where is the boy? Wanting an answer to that question, he lifted his wand, pointing it's tip at Petunia. "Immobulous!"

The woman stilled instantly, but before she could do more than gasp, another spell hit her. "Silencio! Now Petunia, let us see what has been going on here…" With that the old man moved her around from the sink to where he could glare into her eyes over his small spectacles.

After a moment he pulled back, his scowl much more pronounced as he moved off, leaving her where she was for a moment. Quickly he opened the cupboard he had seen in Petunia's memories, looking inside and gritting his teeth angrily at the blood.

Staring at the cupboard he made a small gesture with his wand. The air inside the cupboard shimmered for a moment in glaring pink and white light, so much he blinked in shock. Signs of an apparition, but it also looks uncontrolled. Could the boy have attempted another blind jump? But then where would he have gone, and what happened to the blood wards? He began to wave his wand again, but most of what he got was flooded out by the magical residue of the apparition. Some uncontrolled magic, that's to be expected, but… I can't get anything else here blast it, the apparition residue is too powerful!

With that thought, the man moved out of the cupboard, standing upright with a creak from his knees and back. Still, even that tells me something. Such a powerful residue could only have been made by a long distance jump. But how long a distance is the question, I've never seen such a powerful splash before…

With a sigh, he moved back over to Petunia, scowling angrily at the woman as he glared into her frightened yet belligerent eyes. "I left your nephew here thinking that you and your husband would abuse him somewhat, but this, this is too far by half! Forcing a boy as young as seven to cook for you, constant beatings? There is treating him as an unwanted guest, and then there is outright cruelty! And now, because of you and your family the boy has run off to who knows where and the blood wards are gone, nothing I can do could bring them back!"

Something in the woman's eyes told him she was happy the boy was gone, and the man smiled thinly behind his beard. "Well Petunia, if the boy is no longer here, then the money your family received to take care of him is no longer required." The woman paled slightly even immobilized, an interesting feat, though her pallor continued to worsen as the man went on. "If you are very lucky I will not be forced to share the news of what happened here with anyone else. If word gets out that you abused my world's savior, well…" he shrugged eloquently. "The so-called 'freakishness' the boy was responsible for will be the least of your worries."

"Goodbye Petunia, I do hope nothing happens to you and your family because of this night's business…" With that Albus walked off, only cancelling the spells on Petunia only as Fawkes alighted on his shoulder. By the time the woman had enough breath to scream, he was gone.

Back in the castle in Scotland, the man sat down at the desk, writing out a short message which he handed to Fawkes. The bird disappeared with it, and the man stood up, gathering up the small devices that had been on the same shelf as the one that had exploded. Waving his wand over them, he scowled as none of them responded as he expected them to.

After a moment he shook his head, speaking aloud to the empty room. "Not one of them working, which means that all of my tracking spells on the boy are gone. Could they have been drained like the blood wards, or did something else happen there? Still, there are other ways to find him."

He stared off into the distance, thinking hard, then tapping his fingers together. Still if I cannot find him, there needs to be both a scapegoat, and a secondary plan. The scapegoat, or rather scapegoats will be simple enough. But the secondary plan, that might prove more difficult.

After a moment he got up again, moving to pick up a large piece of blank parchment, stuffed into a book on a shelf as if it was being used as a bookmark. He tapped it with a finger, intoning "All I do is for the Greater Good."

A second later the parchment was no longer blank but filled with scrawls, some kind of mathematical formula filling up half of it, and several notes in different languages filling the rest of it. After a moment the man nodded, smiling thinly. Three to four years then until he is strong enough to do anything. And I cannot imagine any of his servants would go in search of him, not any of the ones free anyway, good. That gives me time to see if I can find the boy, and also to prepare a replacement if I cannot.

With that in mind, he gestured with his wand and a small silvery bird that resembled Fawkes appeared. "Minerva, could I speak to you for a moment please, something has come up." With that the silvery creature shot off, passing through the door at the far end of the room.

For a few minutes the man bustled around the room, filling up a small bag with far more things than it should have been able to hold. He stopped however as a faint ting echoed in the room. Working his face for a moment he assumed a sad expression. "Come in Minerva."

The door opened revealing a tallish woman in a tartan green robe. She was a somewhat elderly woman, possibly just out of middle aged, with a stern face that made her seem older and wearing a witch's hat on her head. "You wanted to speak with me Albus?"

Albus smiled at her wanly. "Yes Minerva, I hate to do this to you but I'm afraid I will not be here for the next few months. As such you'll have to handle any of Hogwarts paperwork that needs doing. I fear a friend from Asia who I have corresponded with for many decades is dying and I wish to do what I can to make his final days as happy and comfortable as possible."

Even while Minerva gave him her condolences, Albus was already making plans to see if he could find Harry Potter, thinking of the places he would have to visit and the rituals he would have to do to pick up his trail. Yet for all the effort Albus would put into it, his search would be in vain.

OOOOOOO

Harry hadn't really used a spell to teleport away from his cupboard since even if he knew one he couldn't have concentrated enough on it to do anything. It had simply been a blind, all-encompassing need to get away as far away as possible. In response to this soul deep wish his magic had gone haywire somewhat, grasping the blood wards and draining them to further power Harry's own magic, shattering something inside of him at the same time to hurl him further away from his starting point. But this was magic, and magic was tricky. So he was transported much, much further than anyone would ever have expected.

Magic was not as easy as even practiced practitioners thought however, there was always a price, and regardless of the wished powering the barely formed magic, Harry should have died, the magic sucking him dry just like the wards. Yet there was more than just Harry involved, more than just his inbuilt magic, or even the magic of the blood wards. There was also the power of prophecy, not just one prophecy, but many. Not just on earth, but several others, some darker, some lighter.

The Powers-That-Be rarely involved themselves in the doings of mortals, no matter how powerful. Prophecies were how they tried to shape those mortals' steps, and they did even that very rarely. Primarily because it was like setting a small stone loose onto a gigantic pond, you could never predict how the ripples would move, effecting one another and the water around them in unusual ways. Yet sometimes, there came a chance to change things that was just too good to pass up. So it was now.

And in Harry's case there was also something else there to be taken. Something else to balance the scales and allow him, if he so choose to return to life. But even then, he had to be given the choice.

Harry woke to a feeling of someone running their fingers through his hair gently. There was someone humming softly nearby while his head was laying on something soft and warm. He had never felt the like before. No one had ever touched him like this except for a few of the teachers occasionally. He opened his eyes quickly, trying to get away, but found his body wouldn't obey his commands.

Even so the humming stopped and a gentle hand touched his cheek. "Easy Harry,"said a female voice. "Don't move just yet." The voice sounded scratchy with disuse, yet there was also something in it that told Harry that the user had been crying.

With great effort, Harry opened his eyes and looked up into a young woman's face. She looked in her early 20's, if that. Her face was gorgeous, better looking than any woman he'd ever seen outside TV shows, though he'd be at a loss as to explain why. She had red hair cascading down her shoulders and emerald green eyes, a shade that Harry had only previously seen in the mirror, though on the woman they were red rimmed and tear-streaked. The woman's face looked as if she had been dealing with tremendous grief for years, and the smile she wore as she stared down at Harry was happy, yet fragile and almost scared.

Harry didn't understand why she would be scared of him. "Who…" he paused faltering as his eyes locked on hers."I, I know you…" he said, trying to lift a hand to touch the woman's face. He wasn't even able to lift his hand more than an inch, but somehow the woman guessed what he wanted and reached down, picking up his hand from where it had been flopping and brought it to her cheek, nuzzling into his palm. "I know you..." he said again, his fingers twitching against her cheek."But, but how?"

"I'm your mother Harry, Lily, Lily Potter nee Evans." The woman said softly watching him with trepidation. She feared that he would immediately flinch away from her, reject her because of the life he had led.

But Lily needn't have worried. For all the hate he had seen in his life, for all the loathing and fear and disgust that the Dursleys he aped on him, Harry had only wanted one thing: to be loved. And that was the emotion he saw in this woman's face as she stared down at him in, he was slowly realizing, her lap. His own eyes began to brim with tears not of sadness but joy."M, mum?"

With a cry the woman leaned down, burying her head into his chest as her arms went around him where he lay on her lap. Harry tried his best to return the hug, but he was so weak! This was 60 or 70 times worse than the first time he tried to change how his clothes looked. But even so, Harry was too happy to care he couldn't move, simply basking in one of his dreams come to life all around him.

The moment was too emotional to last, and yet it lasted more than long enough for Harry, who was beaming up at the woman through his own tears. "But, but how! Petunia said you died in a car crash! How did you really die? I know that isn't how, but why, I mean…"

"Calmly Harry." Lily replied, leaning back up and staring off into the distance for a moment before she turned to look down at him again, a widesmile on her face now that her son had accepted her. "There is so much I need to tell you! I don't know how long we have though. I've been allowed back to talk to you because of what you did and because of… of other things. You see there is a prophecy, there was a prophecy before you were even born about…"

Lily paused shaking her head. "No, that's not the way the right place to start. Your father and I were magic users Harry as you've discovered."Suddenly the smile on her face widened into a grin of pure joy as she reached down hugging him again pulling him up so that his head rested against her chest rather than in her lap. "My little scientist, I was so proud of you when you began your experiments!"

Harry blushed a little, both in pleasure and embarrassment. His mother was a very good-looking woman after all, and though he hadn't actually noticed it before she was wearing some kind of skintight leotard thing, but all in white. Weird.

Above him Lily noticed Harry's uncomfortable this and smiled sadly. "Sorry love, I know this is making you uncomfortable, but I wasn't actually dressed my best when I died, and you can't change your clothing after you die, or are sent back or whatever, I'm not exactly clear what I am right now." She smirked a little, gesturing down at her body. "Your father had fun tastes, shall we say?"

"Too much information." Harry muttered, trying to raise his hands to cover his ears, but still not having enough energy to do so. Even so, despite his consternation he reveled in the light tinkling tone of his mother's laughter.

"You're right I suppose." She smirked even wider. "Now if this was happening while you were going through puberty I wouldn't let you go with just that."

"Still, we have more important things to talk about." She went on more seriously even as Harry squirmed in her hug. "We were both magic users, but the magical world is separate from the muggle world, the non-magical world, and yet some of the problems in it are sort of the same is in the human world. Do you know what racism is?"

Harry nodded and Lily smiled. "Of course you do, my bright son, so smart!" With that she hugged him again, and Harry's smile widened as he reveled in the love of his mother..

She pulled away after a moment, staring down at him. "Anyway, there was a movement among what is known as purebloods, who felt that magic should only follow family lines. That's so much idiocy in my opinion, but I was born to non-magical parents. I was also very intelligent, if I say it myself. I was called the brightest which of my generation." She smirked a little. Not that it was hard against most of the pureblood witches and wizards. There were a few that were quite intelligent, but they were still stuck in, well they didn't understand the scientific method, or how it could be applied to magic. You've used a bit of it since he discovered magic Harry, testing and the ability to keep notes and see what works what doesn't and what works better."

Harry nodded then froze in his mother's grip when he realized what that meant. "Does, does that mean you've, you've been watching me?"

Lily nodded somberly, reaching with one hand from Harry's back to stroke his hair in a calming gesture. "Yes Harry, I've watched you all for your life, and I am so, so sorry! You should never have gone to my sister, the moment she married that Vernon pig, she was removed from my will, and they were never in Jame's! But well, I don't know what happened, I haven't been able to watch anything of the world aside from you, so…" she shrugged.

"I have enemies in the magical world." Harry said calmly, far too calmly for a 10-year-old boy talking about such a serious matter in Lily's opinion, but given the life he'd led it was almost inevitable. Indeed the fact he had accepted her so easily was more surprising. "I've sort of known that, though I don't know why!"

"I'm getting to that though I think you should keep that in mind. Anyway, I married what was known as a pureblood, your father James Potter." Lily smiled wanly. "We were happy, even if he was a bit of a jackass when he was younger he grew out of it eventually and became a decent man. I could tell you some stories, but I don't know if we have time for them. Anyway, there was this war on, and your father became a magical policeman, an Auror right out of school, while I went to work as a spell researcher."

Harry's eyes brightened and he opened his mouth to speak but Lily laughed gaily, before covering his mouth with a gentle finger. "I know Harry, and I wish we had more time, I really do, your ability to control what should've been only accidental magic is astonishing especially without a focus, and turns a lot of the research I was working from on his head. But don't know if we have time for that. So back to business."

After that Lily went on much more crisply. "You have to understand that the racists were in power in a lot of the government, oh there were factions fighting against them, and quite a few of the magical policeman fell under that category." Her smile widened, taking on an almost vicious edge. Your father had a friend named Sirius, and the two of them had a partner named Rufus Scrimgouer. They and their team leader were some of the most dangerous Aurors on the force. Because of that they were being targeted by, I suppose you could call him a cult leader, or a terrorist leader anyway."

"He'd taken on this name though we never figured out his real name…" Lily paused again as she realized was rambling. She took a moment to compose herself and went on. "The racists had a leader named Voldemort, who espoused violence against anyone who was not pureblood, against anyone frankly who was a danger to his taking over. I don't even know if he really believed in that pureblood stuff or was simply using it, he seemed more power-hungry than bigoted."

"In any event since the government couldn't be trusted both your father and I joined a sort of paramilitary group. We did our part, and I even fought several times, though I wasn't as good at it as your father." She smirked suddenly, waggling her figures a little. "Though spell creation did give me a bit of an edge, since most wizards are lazy and tend to stick to only a few spells in combat."

"The Order was led by one of the most famous men in the magical community, named Albus Dumbledore. He was our headmaster at school, and yes…" she said smiling down at Harry when he opened his mouth. "There is a school of magic, several actually though your own studies have either turned some of the noted theories on their heads or simply ignored them." She went on much more softly leaning down to kiss him on the forehead right over his scar. "My little genius."

Harry flushed with pleasure, and Lily leaned back, stroking his hair again as she continued to hold him to her chest. Harry felt some of his strength returning, and tried to raise his arms to hug her back, but was only able to squeeze her arms lightly despite his best efforts. Even so, Lily smiled down at him, and that was enough.

After a moment however she shook her head and went back to business. "There was a prophecy, and in the magical world those things are taken very seriously. Albus believed it, and convince your father and I to go into hiding."

She frowned then remembering those months, and Harry lifted one hand touch her cheek gently pulling her back to the here and now. "Anyway, we agreed to it, fearing what would happen to you."

"What was the prophecy?" Harry asked intently.

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...' (Order of the Phoenix)" Lily intoned solemnly.

She watched as Harry frowned his way through it then smiled as he said "but that sounds, that almost sounds like you have to believe it to make it exist, he'd have to mark me right?"

"The word you're looking for is self-fulfilling, and yes that was one of my arguments against it, but there were signs that Voldemort was a firm believer in prophecy long before that. And if he believed it, whether or not we believe it wouldn't matter." Harry nodded understanding her point, and Lily went on. "And he did mark you that night," she said softly, brushing his hair off his cigar and tapping it gently.

"What," Harry paused then went on gamely. "What happened that night?"

He felt Lily shudder, her hands tightening around him. "I, I don't want to talk about it just yet. Maybe if we had more time I would, but not now. In any event, he did more than give you that scar Harry. In fact, if he hadn't done what he did, and if everything else had happened as it did, you would have joined me on the other side."

"Wait!" Harry exclaimed, almost pushing out of her grip before his strength failed him again and he fell against her chest. He flushed in embarrassment for a moment before shaking his head. "You mean we're not in the afterlife?"

"No, we're in… call it the waiting room I suppose, the area between life and death. The amount of power you poured into your wish should have cost you your life Harry, but I as I said Voldemort did more than just give you that scar. He left a bit of his soul in you."

With gentle hands, Lily turned Harry until he was staring off to the side, and he gasped in shock. Everything around them was white and seemingly blank, even the floor they were sitting on wasn't really there, just more grey, almost like sitting inside and on a crowd. But now Harry was able to see something that was so out of place it was beyond jarring. It was looking nothing more than a mass of black pus, oozing darkness and vileness into the air all around it. "W-what is it?!"

"A piece of Voldemort's soul," Lily replied. "I'm not certain if he meant to, or if it was something he had been doing all along, but he cut a bit of his soul off when he tried to kill you. That piece stuck to you when the power of his killing curse spell backfired on him."

Harr shook his head. "Wait, I, I don't understand. First of all, what is a killing curse, and what do you mean it bounced off me? I was a baby, I couldn't do anything!"

"For that you have me and your father to blame."Lily replied, solemnly her arms still around her son.

"To thank you mean, if you say this Voldemort person…"

"If we hadn't died, if we had somehow figured out a way out you wouldn't have gone to the Dursleys!" Lily snarled that name. "We should've figured out some kind of emergency teleportation that could bypass any ward put up!"

After a moment Harry reached up and touched her face again. "A lot of books use this phrase, hindsight is 20/20, I don't know what the 20/20 part means, but I've been told that it means looking back you always see more than when things are actually happening. We're not all perfect, and I don't blame you for the Dursleys." His eyes hardened noticeably. "I blame them for being them, and for whoever ignored your will and put me there."

"Yes, that's an interesting point…" Lily said to mostly to herself, even as she hugged her son in thanks for his forgiveness. "Anyway, the Potters had a massive collection of books about ancient spells, including some about things that were no longer allowed in society, like blood based magics. When I sacrificed my life for you, I completed a charm which protected you from all harm."

"A, And the killing curse?" Harry asked.

"I'm not going to talk about that right now."Lily said shaking her head sadly. "You'll learn that in due time I suppose, I'm sorry but even now the memories are just too raw."

Harry nodded, understanding. "So that thing over there is a piece of this Voldemort and it's going to die in my place?"

"Well that is the other side of what I'm here just tell you. You see, you have a choice. All of life is about choices Harry, the Powers-That-Be are very big on choices. Even in cases like this."

"And what are my choices?" Harry asked, though a part of him already knew.

"You can either allow yourself to fade, and magic will take both you and that portion of Voldemort's soul. You'll eventually be reborn somewhere in a new life, but of course you won't remember any of this. That piece of soul over there doesn't have that choice, it will be removed from the great wheel entirely. That's part of the penalty for trying to split the soul as Voldemort did."

"And my other choice?"

"To return to life wherever your spell took you. I don't know everything about what you'll face if you do, the Powers-That-Be aren't that generous. But your life will be hard, harsh at times and fraught with danger. But I can also say that the rewards will be beyond even your imagining. She smiled warmly. I wish I could say you would find happiness, but that's another one of those choice things, all up to you really.

Harry very slowly pushed himself out of his mother's grip, standing on his own two feet in this wide expanse of white to stare at the vile thing that had been in his scar. "Was it in my scar, or was it in me, my own soul?" he asked almost absentmindedly.

"Sort of both." Lily replied with a wince, watching him anxiously, none of her own thoughts on what she wanted him to do showing on her face. "It was getting stronger all the time, as were you. Someone placed magical bindings on you. That kind of thing is normally done to children when they first exhibit their powers to stop them from doing so much accidental magic they hurt themselves. But the binding was slowly being, absorbed I suppose by that bit of soul, as well as leaching magic off you."

Looking to the side Lily frowned angrily. If only she had been able to watch more of her son's life, from right after her death rather than since the first time he had thought of her which was several years later. Then maybe she would know who that enemy was. She had suspicions, and coupled with the fact that she had seen Albus turn up and Obliviate not just Harry but a team of Obliviators made her even more suspicious of him.

But that in itself wasn't enough, since Albus hadn't said anything after and had indeed implanted memories in Dudley and his gang of bullies to make them stop picking on Harry. They hadn't held long, and he had never spoken to Petunia or Vernon, but was that simply absentmindedness or something more sinister?

Then there is the Will to consider. What happened to Sirius, The Longbottoms, or even Rufus? I don't really want to know how Harry would've turned out if Rufus raised him, he was a little too job and status-oriented to make a good parent, but he would have been worlds better than Petunia and her family of pigs!

Lily wasn't certain if Albus was conditioning Harry for some reason, or just was neglectful of what hiding Harry away from the magical world was costing her son, but she wasn't exactly happy with him whatever the case. She dearly wished that she was a real ghost rather than some kind of disembodied personality stuck following her son around, because if she was a ghost, she could go to Hogwarts and wring Albus' neck for what he was doing to her son.

While Lily was thinking about that Harry was thinking about what he had learned so far, and about the pros and cons of the two choices. In the end however his very nature rebelled against the idea of not taking up the challenge. "I want to go back." he said. "I want to see this new place I've found, maybe explore, maybe learn. I'm used to hardship, that doesn't frighten me and danger doesn't either not really. Not so long as I can fight back." he smirked and his fingers flex a little. "Will I have to hide my magic?"

"I don't think so, though I can't say for certain." Lily said smiling sadly if proudly at her son. Already the white area around them was fading as the Powers-That-Be had heard Harry's choice the instant he thought it. The thing that was Voldemort soul screamed as he began to dissipate, becoming so many little particles of darkness which then flared as they were consumed.

"I am proud of you Harry." she said, even as she felt the tug on her self/soul/body begin, pulling her back to where she had been before Harry had tried his desperate gamble. "Know that I will continue to watch over you, that I love you and that I am proud of you whatever you do with your life!"

At those words Harry turned suddenly, his eyes wide. "No!"

Lily felt his magical reach out for her, his soul connecting to hers here in this place. "Harry don't! It won't…"

"I don't care! I just got in my mother back, I just got a family back! You think I'm going to give you up, NO!" With every word Harry poured more of his willpower into his magic, trying to hold Lily's soul personality or whatever portion of her that was in front of him where it's was, trying to fight against whatever was trying to return her to the afterlife. His magic followed his desperate plea once more, slowly tying Lily's soul to his own.

Reality around them shimmered, then the white dissipated, and suddenly Harry found himself on a hard, solid ground much unlike the strange texture of the floor of the place he'd been just moments before. Various aches and pains told him he was still alive, and his eyes were crusted over, but even so his pains weren't nearly as bad as they had been, signifying that his healing ability had begun its work, though still had quite a bit left to do.

These new sensations made Harry realize that the only sensations he had really felt in that other place had been his mother's touch. With that thought his eyes popped open, and he looked around wildly "Mum?"

"Still here." Lily mused from nearby, and Harry felt something lightly ruffling his hair, not so much a touch as a breeze. "In some fashion anyway. You know, I was just thinking about what I'd like to do if I was a ghost, and now I am one." Despite the lightness of his words, there was something in it that said she was happy to still be with Harry despite her shock that she was.

Harry turned in the direction of her voice quickly, seeing both his mother and what was directly behind her. She was still in the same clothing that she had been in that other place, and she was glowing slightly, like ghosts always did in movies or stories. But the strangeness of that was nothing next to the happiness of simply seeing her, even in ghost form. "It worked!"

"Yes it did, and if you keep on doing things that ought to be impossible Harry, I think I'm going to have to simply disregard everything I've ever learned about magic. That would be irritating." Lily said then laughed a tinkling sound in the air. "Still, I can't complain, can you?"

Wordlessly, Harry shook his head. He'd dreamed of this, dreamed of having a conversation of his mother, of knowing he was loved. Even looking at her and knowing that he wouldn't be able to touch her, this was beyond his wildest dreams. His grin widened so hard it hurt, and he continued to smile even as the pains in his body began to pile up again.

Lily also was grinning wildly at him, though inside she was also somewhat sad that her husband would never be able to feel this. Still, at least I'll be here to watch over our son James, whatever form I have to take to do it. After a few moments however she got control of herself and looked around. Then she whistled in shock. "Harry, I think your spell took you a lot further away than I realized."

Harry looked where she was looking, and stared up at five moons in the sky then around at a forest of weird glowing crystals around him. It was the crystals that allowed him to see it all, everything else was pitch black, as if the sun didn't exist here. He laughed quietly shaking his head. "It reminds me of my cupboard before Vernon allowed me to put in my hanging light, but with a much better view."Then he shivered a little as suddenly his body clamored for attention, the cold hitting him like the fist of a god. "It's freezing here!" he said shattering his teeth chattering.

Lily turned back to him quickly. "Watch my finger!" she said crisply, "this is the spell for a warming charm." She gestured with her fingers in a series of flicks, then watched as Harry shakily did the same correcting him twice before he got it right then intoned the spell.

"Normally people do it with a wand, you've shown so much aptitude towards wandless magic it shouldn't bother you. The words and gestures will help you concentrate!"

Harry nodded then did the gesture again along with the words. He had to do it two more times before getting it right his teeth and body beginning to shut down from the cold, his fingers and toes already blue with cold. His teeth were chattering so much he barely got the words out. Yet when the spell hit, it flooded his body with warmth, banishing the cold quickly.

"That's better." He said with a sigh. Then he smirked at his mother. "You know you're a good teacher, I think that's going to come in handy here."

Lily laughed, reaching out to ruffle his hair, but her fingers passed right through his hair. Even so Harry smiled widely at the gesture, though both their eyes strayed up and around to the odd geography around them. "Wherever here is Harry, wherever here is."

Chapter 2: Surviving and Meetings

An interminable time talking while walking in a single direction brought Harry and Lily to a small ridgeline, but there was no sign of any kind of habitation. Wherever they were, there weren't any people. Harry barely noticed this though, still entranced by the sheer pleasure of having his mother nearby, plying her with questions about her life.

She still wouldn't answer any serious questions about his father or their life together, not yet. Those questions should be answered in a much nicer environment, where he could curl up in a big chair and listen rather than have to walk watching his surroundings for threats. Even so, she touched on his group of 'bullies' as she called them or 'bullies that came good, the Marauders'. "Just because something is funny to you," she said finishing one detail in particular that had her eyes flashing with anger even at the memory "Does not mean that it's funny to everyone, particularly the victim."

Harry nodded, understanding that point easily enough. After all, Dudley and his friends thought Harry Hunting was fun, and Harry certainly didn't. Looking around he only then began to register that his heating charm was beginning to fade. Harry quickly redid it then looked around. "We have to find some kind of shelter or something. Er, at least for me anyway."

"Yes those kinds of charms do tend to wear off over time. And we'll need to find some food for you too. Unfortunately you can't eat anything you transfigure, it won't have the nutritional properties of actual food. Mind you, there was such a thing as the Transfiguration Diet."

"Transfiguration?" Harry asked not having asked any magic-related questions yet. "What's that?"

"That's the school of magic that deals with fundamentally changing one thing to another. A charm for example how you changed your shirts color, while an example of transfiguration would be how you changed your clothing's size. There are a few areas like that where the two disciplines overlap." Lily frowned thoughtfully as she hovered in the air next to Harry, moving with that breezy gait of ghosts. She'd attempted to simply walk, but she didn't actually move, so floating was the only thing she could do.

"I think looking back on it that a lot of the spells in Transfiguration in particular were more concentration aids than anything else. It's more about the ability to control the image in your head and then juxtapose that image onto reality."

Harry didn't know what juxtapose meant, but he could understand what it meant from the rest of the sentence. "That's what I did! It was really hard the first few times, but it got easier each time I did it."

"Which might be why the specific spells came into being. Wizards are not people who like dealing with difficult things or concepts." She shook her head sadly. "Remember this Harry if you ever have to interact with wizards. Wizards are lazy, they find a way to do something once with minimal effort, and if they find an easier way to do something the original is slowly lost. It's a mode of thought that seems to infect even muggle-born given enough time."

She had other lessons to impart about the wizards, but she wasn't certain that Harry would ever be returning to Earth. The Powers-That-Be had not been very helpful in that area, possibly realizing that Harry would attempt to bring her with him, and not wanting to influence events further. She feared that he would however, and Lily would do all she could to prepare Harry for that eventuality, and for everything else that might come his way.

With a shake of her head Lily brought her mind back to the here and now. "So, shelter."

Harry looked around, then up at one of the crystal structures. Looking into himself in a way he couldn't quite describe, Harry decided he didn't really have enough magical energy yet to try to transfigure anything that big. So he was forced to climb up a crystal standing on the top of it for a moment to look around for anything he could use as cover.

Laughing lightly Lily fluttered up next to him shaking her head as she reached out with an ephemeral hand to brush Harry's hair gently. "You know you could've just asked me to do that right?"

Harry twitched, looking away not wanting to say out loud that he had not yet really gotten used to the idea of someone wanting to help or at least going out of their way to help him. The teachers at school were sometimes kind to him, but that was so haphazard it hadn't really sunk in.

With the two of them looking in different directions, they soon covered the entire area, but didn't see anything very helpful. "Why don't you stay here and I'll see exactly how far from you I can get Harry, see if I can find any shelter." Lily said, still ruffling his hair. Harry nodded shyly, and Lily leaned in to buss his cheek with her ghostly lips before moving off. Harry watched her go, hoping that she would return quickly.

She was back about five minutes later, frowning thought fully. "Well the good news is I can get I'd say about a mile or so away from you, which means I'll be of use as a scout. The bad news is, I only found one place that looks like shelter, and it's already inhabited."

"By an animal or a person?" Harry asked as he climbed down from the crystal. It wasn't smooth like the crystals he had seen in pictures in the library or in some of the older kid's science classed. It was rough under his fingers with a few handholds here and there, and the fact it was glowing definitely helped. It also had small growths that almost looked like branches, and even leaves though it took Harry a few minutes to realize that was what they were.

"Animal, though it's almost your size. It almost reminds me of a badger, but not quite, more like a badger crossed with an ant or perhaps a beetle, since it does have some horns or something like them around its mouth."

Harry shuddered a little. "Are you sure there's only one?" he asked anxiously. Facing a horde of ants his own size did not sound fun to him.

"Yes, don't worry, I made certain to check. It's this way." She said gesturing slightly to the right of the route they had been following through the forest of crystals.

"Do you think we'll be able to scare it off, or, or kill it?"

Lily winced a little. "I don't think so, just judging from the fact it's burrow looks permanent it won't want to give it up without a fight. I'm afraid you'll have to scare it off, or, or you might have to kill it. I'm sorry Harry. It's the best I could find."

Harry shuddered again, a full body shudder this time but after a moment his gaze firmed and he nodded resolutely. Seeing this Lily nodded her head, once again leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "Be strong Harry, I can teach you a spell that'll help. Though I don't know if you'll be able to do it without a focus."

"It's all right mom, at least this place is better than being with the Dursleys." He didn't notice her Lily's wince at that, or how she shook her head her emerald eyes brimming with unshed tears for a moment. She shook them off however, and went on to describe the spells she was hoping Harry could use.

Several moments later, Harry didn't know how long it took since telling time here was impossible, he felt he had the spell down. He gestured with the sharp flick of his fingers, and a bright red ring shot out from them slamming into a crystal across from the route he was walking. "Stupefy!"

"Excellent Harry!" Lily exclaimed, clapping her ethereal hands. Honestly, she hadn't thought Harry would be able to do it, but the concentration skills he had learned over the past few months while he was experimenting with his magic had stood Harry in good stead, so he didn't seem to need a focus, at least not so far. That was astonishing and coupled with the rest of what Harry had done Lily decided that maybe what she thought of as the basic laws of magic might not be so much laws as assumptions wizards had made over time, with only a few of them being true unbreakable rules.

She shook her head, wishing to think about that later but right now she had to get her son undercover somewhere. And maybe get him some food to. What was that spell Professor Flitwick told me about that checks food for poisons?

The two of them, James and Sirius were all drunk at the time. They had just come back from an excursion in Africa to make certain that the witch doctors there weren't going to join forces with Voldemort. After a few drinks James had asked the diminutive professor how he had made certain that the food the witch doctors gave them wasn't poisoned.

It had been, but Flitwick still negated the poisons easily enough, and he and the witch doctors had all laughed as if it was all good fun. Sirius had too Lily remembered. He said something about his family that James simply nodded at while it had shot past Lily, until James explained it later. She had been appalled at the time, but right now that wasn't important.

After a moment, she brought the spell's incantation to mind, and crossed her fingers hoping that she remembered the gestures right. Those she was much rockier on, as she confessed to Harry a few moments later as they crested another small rise in the land and could stared down into the dell where she had seen the animal and its burrow. "We were all a little tipsy I'm afraid, so you might have to experiment with the gestures, but after you're finished the spell, the meat should either glow yellow for good, or purple for poisonous."