Chapter 10

With all the new sensations that Robert while feeling, he continued to be able to contain them to a manageable level. He essentially did not know how to shut his metaphorical eyes, or any such symbolic idea that he could think of. Becoming accustomed to his new sensation was the thing that he was trying to adapt to at this point in time.

The hard part to adapting to the sensations, was the every time that he started to feel comfortable, he quickly got inundated by realizing that he was surrounded by the ichor-like magic, or what he could only assume was magic, that he was sensing. Take a slow breath, concentrate on the sensation, realize that he was flooded by the disgusting feeling, and then take a new deep breath to try and calm himself down. He kept on doing that repeatedly throughout a couple of hours. Much to Robert's dismay, he came to the conclusion that he would have to just suffer through his disgust. That thought made him shudder, just realizing that he would be surrounded by filth, constantly.

Around the time that supper was called for by his grandmother, Robert had come to a loose grip on his new sense, at least enough that he could attempt to interact with the rest of his family. Reluctantly he went down a flight of stairs, towards the dining room to have his meal, where his mother and his grandparents awaited him. While he did want to talk to them, with how he was handling his new sense, he was fearful of sensing them, and seeing that disgusting vileness.

In a weary voice, when he sat down at the dinner table, he said, "I'm sorry for earlier. I was just… overwhelmed. No, that's the wrong word. I… I don't know how to explain it."

"Take your time Robert," Everett said with his normal voice. "Explain what happened however you can. If you can't right now, do it later. We'll be here for you, whenever you need it."

"Thank you, Gramps. But, I'd like to try to tell you about it now."

And with a hesitant voice, Robert continued his explanation to the rest of his family. He explained how he was practicing the spells that he was learning, and from there was finally able to cast out his first spell. With some hesitancy, due to lack of the correct words, he let his family know about his new sense, about being able to sense magic. Robert tried to, with the best of his ability, explain how with his new sense, he became lost, ignoring everything but his new sense. Eventually he came to the point where he did not remember anything else, until he woke back up in his mother's arms.

"I don't want to hurt you Mom, but when you cast that charm earlier, it looked, no felt, no… uggh, I'm just going to say see when I talk about my new sense. As I was saying, that spell you cast, it just looked wrong. Your spell, it was polluted with something, I don't know what it was."

In the gentle voice, in which only mothers know how to use, Beth said to her son, "It's fine. It's just magic, it's perfectly normal."

"No! You don't understand. The disgusting magic, it's in your body. Not just yours, but also in Granny and Gramps. It's making me nauseous every time I see it. It's just know it's wrong."

"How can we help you Robbie?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

With his on hesitancy, Everett broach a question, "Have you noticed any areas where there is lesser amounts of what you are calling filth?"

"No. It's just so overwhelming right now. It's… I don't have the words to use. I'm not able to…"

The only thing that Robert could do, was to be frustrated. Words were not working for him. With every word he tried to use, to explain to his family, he tried to weigh them against another word, to emulate what he was going through. To him, it was like trying to explain the weight of a mountain to someone that could not understand how much a metric ton was, in a foreign language. And, he himself did not have enough vocabulary to bridge that gap.

"Come down to my workshop after supper. I don't use magic down there, it might be more diffuse down there."

Everett tried to give his grandson an option, that might help out. If what he Everett could understand from what his grandson was saying, it was the only idea that he had. Like his wife, and his daughter, he truly cared for Robert, and wanted what could be best for him, in whatever way he could. He wanted to be the shoulder that could support Robert.

"Thank you. But I don't think that that is a good idea. I… I just need to be alone, and try to get used to it. I don't want to push you guys away any more than I already am. Does that make sense?"

A with a slow intake of breath, and a slower exhale, as a way to think over the best words that he could, Everett responded to Robert. "If that is what you wish. But remember, we're here for you. At any time, even though none of us can comprehend what you are going through, we can at least listen to you."

"Thanks for understanding. I don't want you guys to feel hurt. It's just too much to take in right now."

With having said what he could say, Robert ate his dinner with a small appetite. His mother and grandparents attempted to put a facsimile of a normal meal, but the constant glances, and the pauses in conversation, made it for an awkward meal for everyone involved. Everyone wanted to speak on the topic that had ended, but none of them knew how to broach the subject in a productive or helpful way. So instead, they all faked their way throughout the meal.

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With a new day dawned, Robert awoke, sensing all the magic in everything. It was all still as prevalent as it was the day before, and was as overwhelming as it was, but for moments at a time, Robert was slowly learning to ignore what he was sensing. Much to his chagrin, he had not magically been able to control his new sense overnight. Robert knew it was going to take as long as it took to get used to it.

Slowly getting ready for his day, he realized that today was a Monday, a school day. Not only would we have to floo over to the school house, he would have to be surrounded by all the enchanted pieces in the building.

As much as he would want to skip school for the day, he knew that he would have to face the situation at some time. It seemed like a better time for Robert to get it over with now, instead of waiting and dreading it. Having the mind of an adult, at times like these, was a pain, at least that is what Robert felt.

After telling his mother that, yes, he still wished to go school that day, he did request her that she come with him, and try to help explain to his teacher, Mr. Wright, that he was not feeling the greatest. Robert did ask that she did not try to explain what happened, that he wanted to keep it within the family. There was no desire in him to be viewed as any more weird than he was. It was his own problem to face, and he did not want to be bothered by others, even if they were trying to help him. His family was enough.

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School was rough. Unlike his house, the school enchanted to the nines, but not in the good way. Anything and everything in that school was enchanted, transfigured, or spelled in some way or another. Most of the time, it was done frivolously, like what most people in the wizarding world found normal. And like with his house, all the magic was essentially diseased, making Robert disgusted having to be embraced by it all day.

At least with his household, which was visited by muggles on occasion, not much of the house excessive amounts of enchantment. To keep within the Statues of Secrecy their family displayed only magic that was not easily noticeable by muggles. He had been lucky to awaken his new sense within this domicile, as almost any other magical place would have possibly broken his mind. Thank Merlin for these small favors.

As a way to distract himself, after school, Robert did decide to visit his grandfather's workshop. While he was not as enthralled as Everett was with woodworking, he did enjoy the work he did there. Though, to be honest to himself, he did enjoy working with metals in the smithy, in a room near the wood workshop. The malleability of the metals had a pleasing feel to him. And his grandfather, was glad with him finding things that he enjoyed to do, and that they could bond over.

Walking without much energy, Robert approached the workshop. As he was going closer and closer to the room, further away from areas that housed magic, he noticed that while that there was still magic throughout the area, the filthy magic that he was having trouble getting used to, was diminishing. It was never truly disappearing, but lessening.

And it was a joyous thing.

Robert sensed that the filth kept on traveling, freely through the environment, but it did not push through as a tidal wave, encroaching on the workshop. And the workshop, it was nearly sterilized from that disgusting magic. The room, at least to Robert, felt… clean.

That was not to say the room was a pristine environment, everything still had some filth attacked to it. But, from what Robert was sensing, he could tell that pieces that had been worked on had lesser amounts, and pieces that were nearly complete, they had such small amounts of filth attached to them. If Robert would have thought about it, he would have compared the pieces as having been sterilized.

In a sudden understand, Robert realized that what his grandfather had said about his ministrations, was correct. And, if he thought about it, did that mean that filthy magic make spells and enchantments degrade. As he was using the words to describe the sense of the dirty magic, was that dirty magic contaminating other magic, making it fail?

Would a "clean" enchantment last forever?

And what did that mean for him?

From what Robert was able to discern, other than on the outside of his body, his magic had no single contamination in it. If that was the case, and with a small bit of doubt, he thought that that was allowing him to use his new sense. His new sense had not been infected, preventing it from developing properly. He did not have the proof, but in it's own way, it made sense to him.

Having just wakened his new sense, he had only been suffering through it, he had not had an adequate chance to contemplate what it would allow him to do. It with only having since come into his grandfather's workshop, which was relatively speaking, clean, that he was able to ignore the ever prevailing sense of disgust. It finally allowed him to relax around his new sense, and think about it.

With those thoughts in his mind, and as much as he wanted to follow his grandfather's rules, Robert attempted to cast a spell, though without a wand. In memory of the first, and only, spell he cast, remembering everything that he did to cast that spell, he spoke the word "Svet".

Keeping his new sense on himself, he watched as his magic changed, changing into one strand of magic. It had a specific flavor, color, taste, or… he could identify that strand again. Watching, he saw his magic move towards his hand, trickling through a natural grown opening in his now magical sphere.

There was nothing tainting his spell. If only, if only the spell had finished coalescing, he would have completed a spell for a second time. The strand of magic had disperse before it could amass enough strength to remain stable.

Again, he tried to cast the spell. And again, it dispersed. Repeatedly, Robert continued to cast the spell. And every time the strand failed to accumulate. He was almost there, he could feel it.

In eager frustration, Robert 'grabbed' a strand, without understanding how he was doing it, and molded that strand into what he had been sensing, giving it more and more strength, until…

The spell stabilized.

Without wand, without words, Robert had successfully cast the Svet spell, creating a glowing orb that attempted to follow behind him, illuminating his way forward. 'Grabbing' that spell, he just sensed it. All he was doing was just sensing magic, his magic.

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Thank you all for reading. Due to hitting 100k reads, I'm adding a chapter for this week. Just randomly saw that I was that high and decided to be nice.

Only a couple more chapters till Robert heads to Hogwarts. One thing I hate about putting him in this year, is that there are very few named characters in his class. Sigh, I'll work with what I have.

Take care