Seeking the Star

NOTE-Ch.2. has just changed a lot due to the influence of my beta and my roommate, mostly the latter, who informed me that Harry is under no circumstances simply allowed to have blind faith in Dumbledore, or for me to write him as if he does. She was also quite adamant that Dumbledore would never allow Harry to travel by the Knight Bus.

the words Schema and Sanos have been stolen, with permission, from IGToW, who\'s story A Bit of Alright inspired me in no small way. I\'ve changed her meaning of Schema slightly, but the concept of Sanos remains intact. The concept of Schemata is my own.

Ch.2.


After dinner, Harry went straight back up to his room, pulled out a sheet of parchment, and wrote Dumbledore a long letter explaining everything that had happened that day. He rolled it up and woke Hedwig, who had been sleeping on top of his wardrobe. She took his letter obediently, and nipped his finger affectionately as he stroked her head.

\"Take this to Dumbledore, okay, girl?\" She rubbed her head lightly on his cheek in response and took off out the window. Harry sighed and flopped down onto his bed. It had been a l str strange, tiring day. As he lay there, staring out the window at the darkening sky, the threads slowly came back into focus. He found himself humming the same note as the threads appeared all around him. His books, his wand, and his broom all had thick webs around them. The more he looked, the more he felt calling them \'threads\' was woefully inadequate. They were light, they were music, and most of all they were magic. The more he looked, the less they seemed to want to be defined. He picked up his wand, studying it closely. As he concentrated, the colored threads began to disappear, but he found that he could distinguish the \'threads\' by touch. He could just put his fingers over the wand and \'feel\' for its magic, for the person behind it that made the magic what it was. His belongings were all so very him, charged with his very essence. He wanted to experiment more, but the only magical objects he had were his, so he decided to let it rest.

It was the first night he could remember that he had no nightmares.

A very grumpy Hedwig woke Harry as the sky just began to pink. She dropped an envelope on his head, flew up to the top of the dresser, and immediately put her head beneath her wing to sleep. Harry ripped open the envelope, suddenly awake and excited at the curly purple ink spelling out his name. He unfolded the letter hastily, causing a smaller envelope and a shiny American penny to fall into his lap.

Harry,

There is much to share with you, but it is necessary that you return to Hogwarts immediately. Give the enclosed letter to your Aunt, pack your belongings. This portkey will activate at exactly eight-thirty in the morning and will bring you directly to my office.

-AD

well, this is certainly news! Harry thought excitedly, jumping out of bed. He crept quietly into the bathroom, showered quickly, and padded downstairs. As it was a Thursday, his uncle was at work, and as it was morning, his cousin was in bed. Aunt Petunia sat at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper.

“Aunt Petunia?” The woman looked up from her paper at the sound of Harry\'s voice. “I was told to give this to you. I\'m going back to school early this year.” He handed her the letter, which she snatched abruptly from his fingers and tore open savagely. She scanned the letter, lips pursed as if she had just eaten a very sour lemon. When she finished, she looked up at him.

“Well, go on then! You and your...people. Always disrupting things.” Harry smiled brilliantly at her, and ran upstairs to pack before he could even see the shocked look on her face. It was the first time that a Dursley had ever let him have his way without argument.

There was little to pack, and it only took Harry a few minutes to fill his trunk and tuck a protesting Hedwig into her cage. He went back into the breakfast nook. Aunt Petunia was still looking oddly bemused. Something was very odd indeed about her already rather odd nephew. She started at his entrance.

“I just wanted to...” Harry suddenly lost his words in the wake of the positively odd expression on his Aunt\'s face. “Well...thanks and goodbye.” He smiled the dazzling smile at her again, turned, and ran back upstairs. He only had a few minutes before the portkey activated, taking him away from number 4 Privet Drive for the summer.

As the clock downstairs struck the half hour, Harry felt the familiar tug in his middle that indicated the activation of the portkey. He landed in Dumbledore\'s office in a more or less dignified fashion.

Albus Dumbledore looked more tired than Harry remembered, but also happier. He seemed to positively shine with joy when he saw Harry. Harry was startled to find he could feel the headmaster radiating the strange something he saw for the first time yesterday.

“Oh, my boy, I\'m so terribly happy for you. Please, do sit down.” He gestured and a comfortable chair appeared. Harry curled into it, leaning back into the plush and tucking up his legs. “I\'m sure you have many questions about what you saw yesterday, and hopefully I can answer most of them before you even ask.” Harry simply nodded and waited for the headmaster. He did have questions, but he wanted to see what the headmaster would tell him, first.

“What you saw yesterday is what we call the Schemata. In its broadest use it refers to what you seem to see as the weave of magic itself. The Schemata is a manifestation to the senses of magic, and once you can sense the Schemata, it is possible to learn to manipulate it. Each person has their own Schema, but the Schema of witches and wizards is vastly more complicated and far stronger than that of Muggles. Learning your own Schema is vital to being able to practice complex magic such as advanced potions brewing and Animagus transformation. Being able to read the Schema of others is absolutely vital in the healing arts, especially Sanos, but is also useful for things like magical lock picking, ward removal, and advanced counter-cursing. You see, Harry, when you fully understand someone\'s Schema, you know them to the very core, and when you can understand and tap into the Schemata, well...” The headmaster trailed off, letting his twinkling eyes and Harry\'s quickly working brain figure out the rest. Harry sat quietly in the chair, taking in the wealth of unexpected information.

“So, if I learn to tap the Schemata, I can use it to defeat Voldemort?”

“That\'s one possibility. Usually, it takes a great deal of training and preparation to be able to access the Schemata even on the most basic levels. From what you told me, you have access through your three primary senses, which is unheard of in an untrained wizard. Further, your innate access to the Schemata probably carries over into the Schema of others, which opens up a great many doors to you in your later life, Harry. Life isn\'t entirely about Mr. Riddle, you know. You should think about your future.” These words gave Harry pause. He had never thought too deeply about his future. Mostly, he concentrated on the moment, and on Voldemort. What he would do after the defeat of the Dark Lord was a topic beyond his scope. The idea of there being something beyond Voldemort was foreign, and he wondered why Dumbledore would choose now to bring it up. Harry gave a stab at an answer.

“Would it help me be a good Auror?”

“If that\'s what you want, Harry, it will. However, I think you should also consider some new options open to you.” ’Ah,’ Harry thought. ’There it is. New options. I wonder what he’s got in mind for me now.’
“It\'s no real matter now, though. I am hoping you\'ll be willing to agree to spend the summer here with me, learning how to access and control your use of the Schema and the Schemata. A little later in the summer we can worry ourselves over your classes for the year.” Harry nodded his affirmation. He was willing to be patient and see where Dumbledore was taking him with this, mostly because he was fascinated by what he had seen. “Well then, I think it would be best to keep you in a suite of rooms up here near my own, well away from the rest of the castle, no? Once you begin to tap into the Schemata, you may find it rather overwhelming, and it\'s best to be away from other wizards when that happens.” Dumbledore rose from behind the desk and Harry followed suit. He wanted to learn this, and if it helped him defeat Voldemort, so much the better. The headmaster led the boy back through a door Harry had never noticed and into a narrow corridor. Dumbledore inclined his head in the direction of a heavy wooden door with a door knocker that looked like two entwined snakes.

“The password to your room is \'weft\', Harry, but I\'m sure if you befriend Dubhe and Phecda they\'ll come to recognize you without it.” Dumbledore turned and went into a doorway slightly down and on the other side of the corridor. He looked back over his shoulder at Harry, and gave the boy an appraising glance. “If there\'s anything you need, Harry, don\'t hesitate to ask. I\'d appreciate it, though, if you don\'t go on any night walks around the castle. Dobby can easily be summoned to your room if you\'re hungry, and if you have any other needs, don\'t hesitate to knock on my door.” The old wizard smiled kindly, and disappeared into his rooms with the soft click of the door closing. Harry bowed his head at the door knocker. This would be an opportunity to practice his Parseltongue.

“Greetingsss, Dubhe and Phecda.”

“Greetingsss, boy. Who are you and why are you here?”

“I am Harry Potter, and thessse are my roomsss for the sssummer.”

“We welcome you, Harry Potter. What isss the passsword?”

“Weft. Thank you, Dubhe and Phecda.”

“You may passs, Harry Potterssss. We will remember you.” The door opened with a click, and Harry levitated his trunk into his new home for the summer. Dumbledore hadn\'t been kidding when he said Harry had a suite of rooms. He had a sitting room, decorated in white and warm wood with familiar red and gold trimmings. His bedroom had an adjoining bath with a fair sized tub as well as a shower, and a window in the ceiling to let in the sky. Both the sitting room and his bedroom had many windows and were full of natural light, and both were comfortable without being overly plush. He had several comfortable chairs, a fireplace in each room, a slightly larger than normal bed, a big desk, and a small table currently mostly covered by a steaming teapot and its accompanying accessories. By the teapot was a small bell and a note in Dumbledore\'s handwriting: “Ring this for Dobby. -AD”. Harry had missed breakfast and it was getting well on towards lunch, so he rang the tiny bell. Almost instantly, Harry found himself navel to face with Dobby, who had somehow collected even more mismatched clothing in the few weeks since Harry had seen him last.

“Ooooh, Mister Harry Potter, what can Dobby bring you? Does Harry Potter want sandwiches? Or soup? Oh, what does Harry Potter want?”

“I think I\'ll have some sandwiches, Dobby. That would be great. And some pumpkin juice. And a little chocolate, please.”

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby will be right back with Harry Potter\'s sandwiches and his pumpkin juice and his chocolate!” With a pop, the elf disappeared again, and Harry sat down and poured himself the first of many cups of tea he would consume during that long, strange summer.

***

“Yes, Potter?” The voice was sweet poison, and it startled him out of his paralysis. He stepped into the room, the heat of Snape\'s anger somehow thawing him.

“Professor, I came because I have a lot of things to say to you.” He saw the Professor about to open his mouth, and hurried on. “No, Sir, please don\'t interrupt me. I did a lot of thinking over the summer, and I want you to hear me out.”


(a/n)
the fool-beginnings, the heady moment before diving into the future. the state of being untested and inexperienced. taking a leap of faith, stepping onto an untested path.