Harry Potter and the Weaver's Wizardry


A/n: I do not own Harry Potter or the Circle of Magic. Stories are owned by J. and Tamora Pierce respectively. Also unsure about whether or not I'll continue Juggernaut's resolve so don't hold your breath. If anyone wants to adopt it then go ahead I don't mind.


Chapter 1

When Harry Potter, newly turned 5 year old, saw one of Mrs Figg's cats play with a ball of wool during one of the times he was staying with her while the Dursley's went on holiday without him, he had the strangest fascination with wool and all sorts of fabrics.

Two weeks later and the Dursleys return saw the fascination turn into obsession for reasons that no one knew, even himself. All he felt was the sound of something shuffling back and forth and the clack of needles. Even knowing that he would get into trouble for asking, he asked, nay he pleaded with the Dursleys to buy him some wool and knitting needles.

It took the promise of him staying in his cupboard willingly as long as they wished that caused the Dursleys to cave in to his request, the joy of having the brat out of the prying eyes of the neighbors proving to be too good to be true. Petunia especially took to the decision with gusto, hustling off to buy said materials as well as a how-to book for knitting.

The moment she returned Harry was jumping up from the stairs where he had been sitting, eagerly waiting for her return and felt the call even stronger as he could practically hear the call of the wool from inside the bag.

Harry looked at Petunia with pleading eyes but waited until she handed him the bag knowing that doing so would result in punishment and the threat of having to wait to play with the wool was too much of a threat to risk.

When he received the bag he did something that shocked the both of them and wrapped her in a tight hug before racing back to his cupboard to eagerly begin reading the book even though he was only starting to learn how to read. He figured the pictures would be enough to get started and he simply could not wait anymore.

The moment he pulled the wool out, something inside of him sang in harmony with the texture of the wool. Rough and warbled, but also calm and comforting tones swept through his body and had his heart beating faster in excitement. Harry reveled in the feeling of warmth and was lost to the rest of the world as he sat down on his small mattress.


Over the next 3 months Harry began to start dreaming of a world different to the one that he knew but felt as if it was as natural as when he was awake. He dreamed of a large temple set out in a spiral inside a crater. He dreamed of looms and sunlight. Of a teacher calm and patient. Of children from all walks of life and the day to day monotony of taking care of a cottage, and learning new languages and relaxing on the roof.

The dreams helped him deal with the trivialities and difficulties that he encountered at school. The way Dudley and his friends picked on him for his fascination and skill at knitting and weaving. The other children making fun of him since Dudley did and no one wanted to get on the bad side of Dudley. The way the teachers simply stood back and watched him be bullied on the playground about being girly.


Harry was 8 when the dreams that had become increasingly spaced apart as the children in his dreams grew older began anew. It was the night of his birthday when he felt like he was trapped underneath the clock tower of the temple. Three months later he dreamed of pirates and the redhead calling forth a tornado to destroy a fleet of ships. 6 months after that came visions of a forest fire and a black girl standing against it with her back straight facing the inferno. It was on his 10th birthday where he was plagued by nightmares caused by an epidemic that was sweeping through the city.

He had no idea what these dreams meant if they meant anything at all but he kept these dreams close to his chest as he figured that if the Dursleys knew he was having weird dreams then the punishments would begin again. Ever since the day he received the wool he stopped getting upset as if the wool was dragging away all the negative emotions which in turn cut down on the weird things that usually happened that caused him to be locked away.

Harry would often wish he could do something like the blond girl in his dreams could do as he watched her spin her wool without touching the spindle. Of how she slowly grew into her talents and learned to weave healing and protection into everyday clothing.


It was a cold windy day and it looked like it would rain at any moment as Harry slowly walked to school dreaming about when he could go back to his cupboard and try a new pattern he had been thinking about trying. True to his word he hadn't complained as he did his chores over the years as long as he received new wool and fabrics every few months. He snapped back into reality as a particularly biting gust of wind swept down the street.

He glared at the large, baggy hand-me-downs that he had to wear and wished that it was warm, tight and form-fitting. To his astonishment and absolute delight, he watched as the threads began to move as the weave slowly tightened with the excess fabric slowly pooled into his hands. As the threads began to move Harry also felt something inside of him moving, as if the soothing rustle of silk and cotton that he heard inside of himself began to travel up and down his arms before pooling at the tips of his fingers.

He tentatively wished for the fabric in his hands to cut off from the rest of the shirt and he hastily tucked it into his pocket when it obliged and spent the day in blissful oblivion, answering questions when asked and simply basking in the feel of the cotton between his fingers and daydreaming about the things he could do based on what he saw in his dreams.

When Harry got home that day he rushed back to his cupboard and locked the door hoping that whatever happened that day was not a fluke. He looked up at all the charms that he had made over the years hanging off the bottom of the stairs and focused on a charm that was weaved out of a sunshine yellow wool and wished as hard as he could for it to glow.

What followed was a huge flash of light that would have blinded Harry had he not had his eyes scrunched in concentration that all children were prone to do. Even with his eyes closed he still had to blink spots out of his eyes, thankful that no one was home with Petunia and Dudley at the shops while his uncle was still at work.

His smile widened at he looked at the charm that was giving off a steady if not too bright glow. With a mental wish he dimmed the charm until it looked as if he merely had the light on.

'I have magic!' Harry thought ecstatically, not knowing that he already had magic and that it simply responded to the way he thought magic worked based on his dreams. 'I wonder if I can do what Sandry does from my dreams. This is going take a lot of experimenting to see what I can do.'


Harry spent the next few weeks trying to figure out how to replicate the lessons that he saw Lark teaching Sandry. He learnt how to fortify his clothing with the runes that he learnt from his dreams so that when Dudley and his friends decided that it was a Harry-Hunting day he merely received bruises rather than the cracked bones that he used to receive. He taught himself how to infuse his magic into the clothing he wore to increase the speed in which his bruises healed and how to spread out his magic like a spider web so that he always knew when someone was approaching.

As Harry spent his 10th year of living learning how to manipulate the fabrics he owned with his magic he began to look at the recent styles found in catalogs in the public library. He frequented the library quite a lot when he didn't feel like going home immediately, usually during the days where he hadn't had a dream the night before.

Thanks to his constant perusal of the catalogs he began shaping the clothing that the Dursleys shoved off to him into the latest comfortable and fashionable items that drove the Dursleys mad trying to figure out where he was getting them since they looked nothing like the clothes he was given. He kept them in the bad quality that they were but used his creativity to alter them so that they looked good despite the age of the cloth.

It was Dudley's 11th birthday when Harry's life took an entirely different path from the one he expected. He had been planning on going to Stonewall High and take a focus on Textiles and make an eventual career as a fashion designer when they went to the zoo and spent an amusing and exciting day wandering around following at a not so noticeable distance to avoid any mishaps with his relatives.

They had just reached the reptile house and Dudley and his friend that coincidentally also bullied Harry had just walked away from a Boa constrictor that refused to move despite their insistent knocking on the glass.

"Sorry about them. They don't really think about other people. At least you have glass separating you from everyone else." Harry whispered to the snake.

The snake lazily opened one eye and stared straight at Harry.

"It's alright. It happens more than you think" the snake hissed back.

Harry was beyond shocked and simply stared at the snake that had begun to move about.

"You can talk? I suppose there would be more than one type of magic after all. I wouldn't be surprised" Harry mused as he contemplated the differences between the two different types of magic he's encountered.

The snake merely looked amused as it stared at the human lost in thought before turning to stare at the rapidly approaching oafs that disrupted its nap earlier.

"DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME QUICK THE SNAKE IS MOVING!" shouted Piers as he rushed toward where Harry was standing, with Dudley following closely.

"Move you" Dudley snarled as he punched Harry in the ribs causing him to topple over and glare at Dudley as he lay on the floor. It was due to his surprise and the fact that he was cursing himself for letting down his web that he felt a surge of his magic escape from him.

He blinked in shock as he watched the glass vanish and Dudley topple into the enclosure as the snake made its way onto the floor and heading for the exit.

"Thank you friend. May we meet again someday" the snake hissed as it made its way past Harry

"Anytime…." was all Harry could manage as he watched the snake make its getaway, stupefied that that had happened.

After a large mug of tea was drunk by Petunia given by the hysterical zoo keeper who kept babbling about where the glass went the five of them made their way back to the car and back to Privet Drive.

Harry kept silent as he listened to the more and more outrageous stories that Dudley and Piers kept repeating, knowing the truth of what happened and that attempted strangulation and dodging poisonous bites definitely did not happen.

"Harry was talking to the snake before it escaped weren't you." Piers accused Harry, bringing him back to the present and away from the possibilities that he wasn't the only magical person around.

"Of course I didn't. That would have to be some kind of magic to do that." Harry snarked back. He was still pretty upset about the punch to his ribs that received, thankful that he had stitched healing and protection runes on to the inside of his shirt.

What he didn't expect was for Vernon to jerk the car to a stop and turn around and snarl at him.

"There's no such thing as magic."

It was said with such venom that Harry had to be impressed. He had become increasingly jaded to life from living through the disasters in his dreams but also became more tolerant and accepting thanks to the experiences.

"Of course there isn't. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation as to why the glass simply disappeared." His tone was calm and placating as he didn't want his uncle to get mad at him as it had been a good day for Harry. He had discovered that there was more than one type of magic and he had got an ice cream to boot.

"I'll be in my cupboard if you need me." Harry called out as they made their way into the entrance hallway of Number 4. He decided that he needed to think about everything he discovered today and felt that braiding some of the silk that his aunt had bought him was the perfect way for him to calm down and think about how everything changed with the discovery that he wasn't the only one to have magic.