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Teaser of The Dark Side of Magic Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-09-01 20:39:24 +0000 UTCChapter 2 (A Letter from Hogwarts)
A Year after meeting Anakin.
After climbing on trees and then houses for two months. His Master told him to start walking and running daily to gain more stamina and strength. Again, despite how exhausted he got after he was done every day, Harry listened to his master. Hearing his praises was something he wanted to hear more and more. But he still made sure not to slack on the school.
After one year, his Master finally told him he could start training in the way of the Force.
"What is the first lesson, Master?" Harry asked excitedly, looking at the pile of toys still left in his room. His master had been right; he could use them for training.
"Alright, Harry," Anakin's voice resonated, calm and steady. "The Force is all around you. It binds everything together connects all living things. To use it, you have to feel it, trust it. Now, we're going to focus on the simplest form of using the Force: Force Push." Anakin remembered the way he trained Ahsoka.
"Close your eyes," Anakin instructed. "Clear your mind. Feel the world around you—the wind, the trees, the earth beneath your feet."
Harry did as he was told, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He tried to focus on the sensations around him. Slowly, he felt something stir within him, a warm, tingling sensation that seemed to pulse.
"Good," Anakin said, his voice encouraging. "Now, imagine that energy gathering in your hands. It's like magic in a way, but this time, it's not about incantations or wands. It's about willpower, about channeling your intent into action."
Harry raised his hands, palms outstretched. He imagined the energy, the Force, pooling in his hands, a swirling, invisible force he could shape and control. It felt strange, it felt... familiar, like a part of him he had never fully realized was there.
"Focus on that toy over there," Anakin directed. "Visualize it moving, but don't think of it as something you're pushing. Think of it as something you're simply guiding. The Force will do the work, but only if you let it flow through you."
Harry opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on the toy. He pushed his hands forward, imagining the Force extending from his palms and connecting with the toy. But nothing happened.
"Don't force it, Harry," Anakin reminded him with a touch of humor. "Ironically, forcing the Force is the one way to make sure it doesn't work. Relax, trust yourself."
Harry nodded, releasing the tension in his body. He closed his eyes again, focusing on the toy and the space around it.
His eyes closed, his hands still outstretched, and he pushed forward with a calm, steady exhale—not with his muscles, but with his mind, his will.
He opened his eyes, and the toy was gone!
"...What happened?!" Harry was lost for words. He looked around the pile, but the toy was just gone. He looked around the room, thinking he must have pushed it too hard, but it was just gone.
"Master, what did I do?" Harry quickly asked, sure his Master must know.
"...I don't know," Anakin admitted, much to Harry's shock, causing him to stop his search for the toy. "I have never seen something just disappear in thin air from using the Force. This shouldn't have happened..." His voice trailed off as Harry looked around the room again, but it was truly gone.
How is this possible? Harry wondered out loud, but then he decided to see if he could try again. Perhaps if he didn't close his eyes, it would be different. He felt the connection around the air, this time focusing on the air and not the toys left on the pile, and pushed his arm forward, his eyes open. This time, a PC that had been left there for years was pushed aside, but it didn't disappear.
Harry took a deep breath before trying again. Again, nothing disappeared; this time, a plushy bear was pushed forward by Harry. He was doing the Force Push even if it was weak, but he didn't understand why he couldn't make them disappear like he did with the toy.
"Maybe I should close my eyes." Harry muttered. Before doing so, he felt the connection again, this time focusing on the PC. As before, he pushed his hand forward, opening his eyes. The PC was still there; it had just moved a little forward.
"Stop trying, Harry. You are using too much Force." His Master warned him, and Harry realized that he wasn't wrong. He was breathing heavily and felt as if he had just run for three miles without stopping.
Later
After resting for an hour and eating something from the fridge, he sat down on his bed with a book on his lap, but he was hardly reading the book; he was too deep in thought. "Master, what did I do?" Harry knew his Master told him he didn't know, but Harry didn't know who else to ask.
"I'm not sure. As I said, I have never heard of someone being able to make things disappear like that. Hmmm, tell me, Harry, is there anything else you might have?"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, puzzled. What else could he have? The Force was more than enough.
"You learn quite quickly for such a young boy, and you are good with the Force. You are already better than I was when I was your age, and what you did was not something I have seen or heard it was possible. I think there's something else that makes you special, Harry Potter."
Harry wasn't sure how to answer that question. He knew strange things had happened to him and those around him, but after His Master started explaining the Force to him, he was convinced that everything strange that he did was because of the Force. But now, he did something that even his Master couldn't explain.
Harry remembered the very reason Vernon wanted to beat him up the day his Master spoke to him. Harry quickly explained to him what had happened in the school and that he had somehow made Dudley appear on the roof. This raised more questions, and there were no answers.
"I believe there's something else that makes you special, my young Padawan, but for now. We will continue training on the Force. The answers will come eventually."
One Year Later
Harry spent the whole year training in the Force. Whatever his Master wanted from him, he always made sure to do as he was told and listened to his words. The one thing he didn't listen to was the advice to make new friends. Harry knew that no one there wanted to be his friend; many of them still looked at him as a freak. But Harry didn't want friends; he had his Master and the Force with him.
During the year, his aunt tried to make him work again, but Harry made it clear to her that he was no longer the scared little boy they could use however they wanted.
'Harry was sprawled out on his bed, flipping through pages of his book.
The door to his room burst open without warning, and Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway, her face pinched in its usual expression of disapproval. "Harry," she began, her voice dripping with contempt, "I want this room cleaned from top to bottom. It's an absolute pigsty in here."
Harry didn't look up from the book. "Is that so? Because I was starting to think it was more like a cozy little cave. Really adds to the charm of the place, don't you think?"
Aunt Petunia's lips thinned into a tight line. "Don't be cheeky, boy. This room is filthy, and I expect it to be spotless by the time I get back. You hear me?"
Finally, Harry set the book down and gave her a look. "You know, Aunt Petunia, I was just thinking... maybe I should take some pointers from your cleaning skills. I mean, after all, you've managed to keep Dudley's room clean, and he's basically a walking pig."
Her eyes narrowed, and Harry could see the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. "Watch your tone," she hissed. "I won't tolerate your insolence."
Harry leaned back against his pillow, folding his arms behind his head, looking relaxed. "Insolence? That's a big word, Aunt Petunia. Did you learn it from one of Dudley's educational programs? Oh wait, never mind, those are just cartoons where he learns how to count, right?"
Her face flushed with anger. "You ungrateful little—"
"Oh, don't worry," Harry interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll get right on cleaning this room. Wouldn't want you to have a heart attack over a bit of dust, now would we? Though come to think of it, this house could do with a little excitement. Now get out." Harry said the last part with a hint of warning as he pointed his hand at her.
Aunt Petunia's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but she seemed at a loss for words. She glared at him one last time before spinning on her heel and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.'
His Master had taught him how to use Force Push, Force Jump, Force Speed, and other techniques to use the Force to his advantage. One of these involved jumping so high that he could leap from the ground to the top of a tree without getting hurt, then using the Force to prevent breaking any bones when he jumped back down. Another thing he started noticing was when people were watching him. He didn't know how to explain it, but when people were close and watching him, he could sense them; he knew they were there. His Master explained that this was the Force guiding him and told him that if he kept training, he would soon be able to sense people's emotions.
Another power that his Master couldn't explain occurred when Harry was trying to make things float with the Force.
'He concentrated on a small rock, trying to lift it off the ground. The rock began to tremble as he focused, vibrating intensely before crumbling into countless tiny fragments. Harry watched as the pieces lifted into the air, swirling around each other like a miniature solar system, each fragment orbiting the others.
But the real surprise came when the pieces began to draw back together.
The tiny shards collided with one another with such force that they fused together, reforming into a solid mass. However, this time, the rock was different—its surface glowed with a faint, fiery light, and its shape had changed.'
Now, Harry was trying to use the Force to make himself float, even if it was just a foot above the ground. He wanted to see if he could do it. During the last year, his Master had revealed a little more about his past, saying that he used to live in a world called Tatooine.
' "Harry, what happened to your parents?" his Master asked one day out of nowhere. Harry's concentration on the rock faltered, causing it to plummet down and fall onto the grass.
"My parents are dead, Master," Harry answered in a quiet voice.
"I'm really sorry to hear that, Harry. I know that feeling quite well."
"...You do?" Harry asked hesitantly, not wanting to upset him with his question.
"Yes, I was born on a planet called Tatooine. My mother and I were slaves. We worked every day. This is why people like your relatives anger me—they use people like you, thinking they can do whatever they want. My mother, she..." Harry had never heard his Master sound so angry before, and he felt a sudden burst of anger in his own heart.
Suddenly, he watched as the rock floated again, but this time, it started turning yellow before it became liquid-like, as if it were made of lava. Harry looked at the lava in shock and felt a sudden anger inside him. An image exploded in his mind: he saw a bright green light, a woman screaming... he saw more; he saw his uncle beating him that night many years ago...
I should make them suffer as I have suffered; I should...
"Harry, stop." His Master's voice made him gasp. Suddenly, he lost his balance, tripped, and fell. The melted rock stopped floating in the air and turned back into solid rock before falling down. Its shape was now like a disfigured snowboard, far from the almost perfect circle it had been before it turned to lava.
"...What happened?" Harry asked, panting heavily, suddenly feeling exhausted.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have let it get the best of me. Let's rest for today." '
Harry did not ask his Master more about his past, knowing it was a painful memory for him. But as he began to focus on making himself float above the floor, he sensed it—someone was getting closer. It was coming from the window, much to his surprise. He turned his head, strode toward the window, and saw an owl flying toward him.
Strange, Harry thought as the owl slowed its flapping wings and landed on the windowsill.
The owl's dark eyes met Harry's. It was holding an envelope in its beak.
"An owl carrying an envelope?" After grabbing the envelope from its beak, Harry wondered who would send a post like this.
"Thank you." As the owl flew away, Harry thanked it, not knowing what else to say. He looked down at the envelope in his hands.
"What is this?" Harry wondered aloud, feeling a strange sense of familiarity he couldn't quite explain.
"Open it, Harry. I don't think you'll get any answers if you just stare at it," his Master said, and Harry knew he was right.
It was a yellowish envelope with words written on the front—words that made no sense to him.
*HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY*
*Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE*
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
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