A/N: I swear on a pile of chocolate covered Legolas' that I'm not through with this story at all! See? Here! An offering! If you ever want to contact me my email is: Lina Inverse the Dramata yahoo. com Okay if you copy and paste remember to remove the spaces from wherever they are. (If it helps there are supposed to be no spaces in my email at all.)For some reason Ffnet doesn't let you post websites or addy's unless you tricksy a way past their lil filters.

Hear With My Eyes Speak With My Hands

Chapter 6

Silent Spell

'Wingardium Leviosa... Wing- Blast!'

The feather hadn't so much as twitched. His face was turned down in disgust, anger, and disappointment. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to Hermione who was giving him a sympathetic look.

"Harry, don't feel bad... We aren't supposed to learn how to do silent spells until our sixth year. It takes a lot of power, practice, and time to learn. To learn this will be hard." She smiled at him and then turned back to her book of History of Magic.

Harry in response felt a bit of hope stir in him.

Six days had gone by. She was right. He should have more patience. Six days of practicing compared to six years... His resolve strengthened. It didn't hurt that they'd allowed him to use the sorting hat. Hermione had said she overhead a conversation amongst the older students who'd over heard some of the professors... it seemed a few of the teachers had been shocked and in disagreement to let such a relic into the hands of a student. Even into the famous Harry Potter's hands. But under the restriction that he could only use it during classes and had to return it to Professor McGonagall by the end of classes, he'd been allowed it's use.

How could he explain to Dumbledore how he felt torn between fear and joy at being able to hear and listen. Even if it was only to and from the hat? To 'hear' the words in his head... was so difficult. Because it was never quite as he'd imagined the words... and on the third day of its use... He'd started having dreams of words. That he couldn't understand. Yet knew he should have. Words that had been spoken long ago.

Or maybe it was his overactive imagination. Even if he had had hearing as a child... it's not like he remembered anything before the Dursley's.

But if all went well. He'd never have to go back. And he'd found a new home in Hogwart's... even if only for the school year.

He looked up to Ron who was chewing on his wilting quill and trying to finish up his potions paper. Harry smiled. Truly he had found friends within Ron and Hermione. He'd never had friends before. But if he had to hazard a guess... perhaps this is what friendship was. They aided him and spoke with him and tried their best to treat him with consideration. And they, like Ron's twins brothers, played games with him and talked of things outside of school work.

Had it not been for their help, he was sure he would have fallen behind several days before hand.

His musings were interrupted as he realized that Ron's bright red hair... was slowly turning... green. Harry's eyes went wide. What on - -

Then it began growing.

"What the- -!" Ron stood up and grabbed a hold of a length of it and gazed on it in horror. Some of the strands were silver.

From what Harry could see, many of the children were laughing. Fred was grinning. George was slowly moving away from his twin. Ron began yelling at Fred and while Ron's words were lost to the silence that was Harry's life, Fred's words were easy to read. "Calm down, Ron. I was just trying out a new spell- - and Harry looked like he could do with the cheering up. Speaking of which- -" he glanced at Harry then to his twin who'd sat down next to Harry and had stolen his charms book from him.

"Practicing the good old floating spell I see... Now that's one spell I can do without words... want me to explain the basics of how I do it?" George glanced at Harry curiously who nodded.

Ron sat back down and had turned his wand on himself but Hermione quickly stopped him with her hand and with her free one waved her wand once over his head and his hair was back to being it's vivid carrot-like colour.

"Okay, well to cast a spell without words what you should do is practice the wand movements first until you have them perfect. When you go silent like, you concentrate more on the physical aspects so that that particular hurdle is out of the way. Next you picture what you want to happen in your head. All the while chanting the spell. Even if you have to repeat it more then once. The first time is the most difficult. Eventually though, after a few times, it's like using a muscle... the more you use it, the stronger it gets and the easier it is to cast. So that eventually you only need to say the words once in your head... here lets start with your hand movements- -"


"Severus the symbol you just did was incorrect... you just said something rather inappropriate actually- - here, its more like this-" Dumbledore went over the gesture again and Severus mimicked it perfectly this time, perhaps to avoid embarrassing himself further without meaning to.

"Yes, excellent. Now why don't you show me how to do the symbols we just went through?" As he spoke, every word he signed. He did this because he wanted Severus to get used to seeing the language constantly. And he did this a bit slowly so that Severus could at least try and connect the words with the movements. Harry Potter would have much to fear once the year was over. Severus was particularly careful at making sure he learned the insults in it as well. He would make sure the child did not have a chance to mouth off to him or insult him behind his back just because Severus couldn't fluently understand the child's language. This had amused Dumbledore but in the end he had given Severus a guideline of sorts for the more obvious insults. The more subtle... well...

He was Slytherin enough to fend for himself.

Each night Severus had come to meet with Dumbledore and sometimes he was there for half an hour... sometimes an hour. All depending on his free time.

After he'd gone over the basics of the day he gave Dumbledore a guarded, yet curious look. "So how has Mr. Potter been doing with the sorting hat relaying the classes to him?"

"He seems to be having his own ups and downs with it... and of course, some unexpected developments have occurred," Severus raised an eyebrow, "Not on a miraculous level, just an interesting one... But he seems to be doing well. The hat himself suggested he be used to relay the lessons to Mr. Potter. Which I'm glad he came up with. The school board has written me and I'm afraid a few of them have been giving me a few problems... not to mention the letter I received from Fudge."

Severus scowled at the mere mention of the name. "What did that... Man," he fought to keep his lip from curling up in disdain, "have to say?"

"That Harry be placed in special care and classes... amongst other things." he frowned. "And of course the Daily Prophet was the cause of several letters as well, delivered by well meaning wizards and witches..." Severus highly doubted they'd been such. What was it with people and snooping their noses into people's business' that were not their own? "Poppy will be taking Mr. Potter to St. Mungo's on Wednesday and will be gone for the day, and on a slim chance might be there through the day. He should return no later than Thursday night."

So Potter might miss a potions class? He'd make sure to set aside a bit of extra homework for him. To miss brewing a potion was nothing short of blasphemy. But there was no way to avoid this. Besides, he couldn't have anyone believing him to be easy on those who would miss his classes. Give children an inch...

- - -

Professor McGonagall watched feeling an amount of pity and hope for her student as he desperately tried to cast a spell that would have been difficult for an inexperienced wizard child to cast in the first place, but was made doubly so by him having to cast it within his own mind. Few sixth years could cast a spell silently within the first few weeks of practicing silent spells- and that was after years of doing the spell. It was disheartening, but at the same time, she couldn't help but think Harry looked pathetically adorable with the large sorting hat trying to slip down to his nose while he tried the wand movements over and over again.

"Mr. Potter," she said soothingly, he turned, to look curiously at her. "Wing-gar-dee-um Lev-ee-o-sa." As she said this she stood behind him, took his hand in hers and moved his wand up and down, back and sideways, all in time with the words. She did this twice then released him. Looking more determined then ever he all but glared at the feather on the table.

He had to get this right! His next class was charms and it was the last class of learning this spell, and while all but a few had gotten the spell down, he had yet to successfully have a breeze move his feather. He couldn't fall behind. He just COULDN'T.

Professor McGonagall had agreed to helping him with it ONLY if he finished the paper work for the day in class and at least spent ten minutes practicing her spell for the week. If he finished soon enough, she had promised to help him for the last bit of her class (which would be when all the students would be practicing hands on.) And in return he was to practice an extra half hour with her after all the classes were released.


And then he felt it. Something he hadn't felt since the day he'd ended up on the rooftop. But instead of feeling like his insides were collapsing in on himself and feeling as if he'd just blinked and ended up fifty feet away from his original destination- - it was a warm tug through out his arm- - that went through his body - tugged on his naval- - went right back out the wand and -

Minerva McGonagall let out a cry of joy when the feather took flight- - losing all professional bearing within the fact that Harry Potter had cast his first authentic spell. It didn't even matter to her that it hadn't been a transfiguration one either. Tears in her eyes and resisting the urge to hug him she put a hand on his shoulder once she saw him lower the feather back down.

He turned to her, astonishment on his face, and the question in his eyes being understandable, even without words, "You did wonderfully!" she assured him, "I'm very proud of you Mr. Potter. And once Professor Flitwick hears about this, he will be too."

The sorting hat repeated these words to her and Harry blushed looking down at his trainers. He'd never had someone be proud of him before. A warm sensation settled itself in his stomach and on his cheeks and ears. He had a feeling to feel like this again, he'd do anything to make his professors proud of him.

It was at that moment he wished with all his heart that he could know what SHE had sounded like saying those words to him. Hearing the hat was one thing... but to only know his voice when it occurred to Harry that there was sure to be so many other different ones- -

He lifted his head and smiled sheepishly at her and gestured to her, 'Thank You.'

And then she did something he'd not expected at all.

'You're welcome, Harry.'

She had signed to him.

- - - -

"Oh Harry, you did it!" Hermione threw himself into Harry's arms and hugged him tightly before jumping back, a blush on her face, "Oh! Sorry!"

Harry felt his cheeks warm himself. He'd not been hugged before. (Or at least the author doesn't remember him getting hugged in her story. Bear with me here.) And while he'd found it slightly pleasant, he was highly not used to much tactile contact, and therefor was not sure if it was proper and would never be able to initiate said contact of his own volition.

He took out a pad of paper and wrote for her; 'It took me long enough!'

"I'm so happy for you! Professor Flitwick will be ecstatic for you! We have him after D.A.D.A.!" she looked as if she were ready to grab and hug him again and he felt his back tense, but she didn't and his muscles relaxed.

Harry sighed, D.A.D.A was quickly becoming his not - so - favorite class. He smelled funny, and the twitch was becoming quickly irritating. It didn't help that even the sorting hat wasn't so happy around him either. Because Phil (which is what Harry had finally named him. It had seemed awfully rude to keep calling his translator a 'hat'.) had been able to feel and sense what Harry did when around the man. Which were the dull and (now and then) sharp pains that always seemed to originate from his head. In particular, his scar. Harry had a feeling that perhaps the dank dungeon (or maybe what was in it) were the reasons for his headaches. But if that were true, then wouldn't Potions have been just as equally torturous?

With those cheery thoughts and the not so wonderful class ahead of him he sighed, hoping that this time his head wouldn't hurt quite as much this time.

- - - -

"Excellent! Treacle tarts!" Ron grabbed at said pasty and shoved half of it into his mouth in the first bite.

Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust, "You're a pig!"

Ron who was about to answer with a mouth full of tart all but choked on it when he saw who was standing behind both Hermione and Harry.

They both stared at him in bewilderment as he coughed into his napkin.

"Swallowing works much better then inhaling."

Harry didn't jump, because the voice was always the same (another disadvantage) so for all he knew, it had been Hermione to say it- - which it wasn't because for some reason she'd opened her mouth (he assumed it was in a squeak or screech) in surprise and all but jumped up and fell over, now looking behind Harry. Harry twisted to look behind him. And would have stood had Professor Dumbledore not put a hand on his shoulder.

"I wish to congratulate you, Mr. Potter. For casting your first spell. Professor McGonagall was quite enthusiastic and happy for you. And Professor Flitwick is looking forward to seeing you in class after lunch."

Harry nodded, it was always such a relief to have someone sign and speak at him.

'I also wanted to inform you that you have an appointment at St. Mungo's on Wednesday,' this he only signed. 'I'm not sure how long you'll be there, but you will be back for Friday morning classes at the very least.'

Harry nodded, 'Yes sir.'

'But back to what I said before, I am very proud of you. You will not have an easy time, you will be struggling against yourself, spells, and even the wizarding world. But you are a strong boy, and I'm sure you will pull through these difficult times. I will be helping Professor McGonagall teach you after school. I'd like to see how exactly you are casting without words and from there we shall see if we can alter or do something about the way you cast spells, or the spells themselves, to make it easier for you. I'm very good at altering spells for the need, if I say so myself.' Harry's eyes were wide. He'd have the headmaster helping him? Was this normal? Dumbledore then smiled and spoke while he signed; "Well, enjoy your lunch Mr. Potter."

'Thank you.'

"What on earth was that all about?" Ron asked in bewilderment, his throat now clear of his dessert. But Harry had dug into his lunch already.