Lillies and Nightshades

An Understanding

"Is she always like that?" Marcus murmured to Harry when they left the Ministry, slowly making their way back towards Hogwarts. He leaned in close to the shorter boy, as if they were sharing a secret. Harry felt himself flush at the sudden closeness.

His mother had gifted them all with rune stones, notes, and bath salts for the cleansing ritual as well as the rites they decided to do to celebrate their loved ones that had passed on.

"She likes to be thorough with all the rituals she does. Never one to do things half-arsed and it pays off." Harry replied and chuckled when he caught Marcus' bewildered expression. The others weren't looking any different as they peered through the things his mother had gifted them. Harry knew that it wasn't common for Slytherins to receive things without someone wanting something in return, but he also knew that his mother would only want them to be safe.

He shivered as he remembered a group of wizards from Bulgaria that hadn't prepared the correct ingredients for a Samhain rite that they were doing- it ended with more than one of them being cursed or possessed by a spirit that had crossed. His mother had swooped in and helped sever the connection to the other side before anything else could happen. Marcus nudged him and looked at him expectedly.

"Just memories." He answered, smiling at the older boy reassuringly.

"Hadrian, can I ask you a question?" Blaise spoke, sidling up next to him and pausing briefly as he glanced at Marcus.

"You just did, Blaise," Harry replied smartly, grinning cheekily at the dark boy. Blaise just rolled his eyes. "But, sure, what did you want to ask?"

"That... magic that your mother was doing, how was she doing it? I don't think I was the only one to see that she wasn't using a wand, nor any incantation." Blaise asked curiously.

Harry chuckled and nodded, understanding what he meant. When they had first taken him to a wizarding community, and official community like the British community, he had noticed that almost all of them had relied upon their wands and almost none of them were in-tune with their magic like he was. He brought it up once with Draco, but the boy just looked at him as if he had grown two heads. His mother had said that it was harder for people to let go of their mindset of Light and Dark magics and therefore they tend to lean one way or another instead of just accepting that it doesn't matter what type of magic you use, it was how you used it.

"We learned a lot of things traveling around the world," Harry started, a sort of melancholic tone in his voice. "You'd be surprised by the amount of witches and wizards that limit themselves by using a wand. In the Himalayas, there's a remote group that don't have access to a wandmaker, in fact the only time they even go into a society is to trade for supplies they need and can't make or get. They have complete access to their magical cores, they live and breathe magic almost literally, harnessing it from their surroundings. They taught us some meditations to help us connect to our core."

With every word, Blaise's eyes got wider and wider. It shouldn't be possible for normal witches and wizards to do that; though it sounded like they weren't normal nomads by any means. It was seemingly contradictory and he felt his curiosity ride through him tenfold.

"But, that shouldn't be possible!" Hermione exclaimed, as she joined the conversation.

Harry just chuckled. "Why? Because that's what the British Wizard Society says and teaches?"

She flushed and frowned, looking at him prickly and offended. "Because only above-average witches and wizards can access their magic like that. It's been documented." Marcus snorted with amusement clear on his roguish face.

"You should know not to believe everything you read." He rumbled, shaking his head in exasperation when she huffed and glared off to the side.

"Would you like to see Hermione?" Harry asked gently, trying his best not to make the Ravenclaw girl more upset. She perked up a bit, still looking a bit put out, but nodded as her inquisitive mind got the best of her. Harry grinned and stopped in the middle of the road.

He handed his stuff to Marcus, who took it without complaint, and called out to the rest of their group to come over and watch what he was going to do. They all looked at him curiously, but didn't say anything as he closed his eyes and calmed his mind to find his center.

A small, serene smile graced his face and he sighed lightly as his magic rushed through him, pouring out of him in soft waves and making his friends gasp around him. He cupped his hands together and whispered Avis in his mind, picturing a bird in his hands, something small and colorful, and he felt his magic rush to meet his commands. Opening his eyes when he heard a chirp, he slowly moved his hands to show Hermione the colorful tit in his hand. The bird tilted its head and chirped again, before flying out of his hands and taking off into the sky.

Hermione felt an unclear, but overall joyful emotion get stuck in her throat as she gazed into Hadrian's glowing green eyes; her own becoming suspiciously wet.

"See, it's simply a matter of will and control." He stated with a sense of finality. As if it were really that easy, but from experience, Draco knew that it wasn't. Not that he'd tell Granger that.

----------------------------------------

It's easy for Harry to forget about his true parentage, easy for him to slip into the practiced mask he's had to keep up in front of people- his friends included.

His mother was worried that something would happen to him when they had returned to Britain, and even though so far nothing had happened, the closer Samhain approached, the more he began to feel an unsettling unease.

He frowned lightly as he pushed his food around on his plate, trying to ignore the burning gaze of the Headmaster who seemed to have it out for him. Well, not quite out for him, but he wanted something from the young wizard. His mother had been afraid of that too, at least she had eluded to as much. Harry had a theory of what the old man might want from him... he just didn't want to entertain such a thought though.

Growing up over the years, as he did, learning about the first war and Voldemort and about his birth parents- gave him a unique perspective. He viewed the past as a sort of third party outsider, unbiased as he imagined how each one played out in his mind. He understood Voldemort. He knew intimately the taste for power and the thirst for knowledge. His magic knew.

Harry, also, understood James and Lily. He knew, intimately, the power of love. He had felt his heart swell and burst when getting praises of love. Remembers the warmth that enveloped him when his Mama hugged him and kissed his cheeks. When she would use her magic in ways that brought wonder to him. His mind is filled with amazing lessons of history and creature lore with Remus. His senses are overcome by the smell of potions and parchment.

Hadrian, also regrettable, is starting to worry about understanding Dumbledore.

He shuddered as a shiver went down his spine. He never wanted to better understand, nor sympathize, with Dumbledore.

"You alright?" Marcus asked, nudging him gently away from his intrusive thoughts.

Harry grimaced and looked at him apologetically. "As okay as I'll ever be, I suppose."

Marcus hummed in mild agreement, but kept a watchful eye on him. His grassy eyes were finally aware of the table, lighting up at Ron as he told Hadrian a story about Percy.

By Morgana, was he stunning.