Breaking Point

Chapter I

Yes, yes I know, Carrots why are you rewriting this fic for the third time! And the answer is simple, there's a lot of plot holes and moments of shit writing that when I was rereading this fic I just couldn't pick up from where I left off. So, I've once again decided to rewrite this fic and trust me, it will be different. You will see more interactions between Fleur and Harry. You will see more actions from outside forces such as Dumbledore, Voldemort and so on. You will also see a more in-depth look at how magic works than before.

As usual, there will be the partial-creature Harry as shown in the description. And like before, Harry will also be teaching Neville. Now before people harp on about not liking it blah blah blah. Just wait, and listen. A lot of people last time were like, "but Carrots why is Harry spending time teaching Neville when he could be using that time to learn new things?" Well, I shall tell you right here, right now.

Allow me to direct you to an example from anime, Vegeta and Goku to be exact. If a character truly grows stronger by training 24/7 then Vegeta should be stronger than Goku who is willing to take long periods of time to rest (as seen in the Cell Games Saga). But as we know, that's not the case and that's because resting is just as important as actual training, overworking can lead to an actual decline in performance rather than an increase.

Second of all, a more personal example, I both coach and play Rugby. I was taught how to tackle players and played quite well. However, I was more of an offensive player rather than a defensive player, meaning that while I could tackle, it was not very well. Yet I started coaching rugby to younger players and when I started teaching them how to tackle and so on, I found that I in turn was suddenly a much better player. I could pass much better, kick much better and tackle much better. Why is that you might ask? Well, that's simple, because by coaching someone else, I was able to gain a better understanding of the technique and transfer that to my ability in a game. Teaching someone else is a valuable way to train yourself as well, which is why that will still be happening.

Anyway, now that that's cleared up, let's get on with the show. It's also much longer this chapter almost double the number of words in fact so I'd definitely suggest re-reading otherwise you'll be lost in the future. Trust me.

The sun had long since set on Privet Drive, its inhabitants enjoying the blissful embrace of sleep. The rain was light, pattering gently against the window creating a soothing tempo that lulled those inside to sleep. Everything was serene and perfect; normal. All except for one inhabitant of Privet Drive.

This inhabitant resided in Number 4 Privet Drive and he was not your ordinary individual. No, you see, this was Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

He sat, knees curled up to and arms wrapped tightly around them, making him appear small and weak. Lazily, his head rested against them in an uncomfortable position and he stared vacantly out the window and up to the shining moon. Its light reflected upon his pale skin, highlighting the deep bags under his puffy, red eyes. Eyes that showcased a multitude of emotions; loneliness, sadness, guilt, regret, anger and fear. Fear of forever losing those he cared about.

But above all those emotions, there was another, tiredness.

Not of physical exhaustion nor magical. No, this exhaustion was a result of emotional exhaustion, of being drained of all means of happiness and left with the cold, harsh truth of reality. One that he could and would never escape.

Sighing, Harry spread his legs out and let his head fall back against his bed. He didn't know what to do with himself. Ever since his godfather, Sirius Black, the only person he ever saw as a father figure was gone, every minute that passed by reminded him of how alone he was. His friends weren't responding to any of his letters and the only letter he had received had been from Dumbledore telling him to stay at Privet Drive. No consoling or reassurance that things would get better, just a short and simple sentence.

Not that he should have expected anything more, after all, he did nearly completely destroy the Headmasters office in a fit of rage.

The only upside to this was that the Dursleys were actually leaving him alone and feeding him properly as a result of Mad-Eye Moody being his usual self and threatening them. Not that he was hungry. The very thought of food made him physically sick and so he ate the bare minimum. As a result, his body, always skinny and lanky was now almost an exact copy of his younger self, of when the Dursley's had purposefully denied him food. Before he had arrived at Hogwarts and before he met Mrs Weasley.

A pecking sound made him look up to see Hedwig at the windows, something clutched tightly in her talons. He smiled, – the first one of the summer – happy to see his first friend back with him.

Opening the window, he allowed the wet owl into his room and took the package from her talons. "Thank you." He whispered gently and Hedwig affectionately pricked his fingers before flying to her perch while he sat on the corner of his bed.

His emerald eyes looked down at the package and noticed a letter attached to it, there was no name attached. He knew that really, he should be more cautious with an unnamed letter, but curiosity getting the better of him, tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter to see who it was from.

Dear Harry

I'm sure that Dumbledore has already told you that you are safest at Privet Drive so I'm not going to repeat something that you are no doubt tired of hearing. Instead, I've decided to give you this last gift from Sirius. He planned to give it to you for your birthday coming up and I planned to do the same as to honour that, I know that it wouldn't mean as much coming from me as it would from him. Nonetheless, this is his final gift to you and from what Hermione has told me, you could do with having something to cheer you up.

Curious, Harry placed the letter to one side temporarily and opened the package to see a large book labelled, Wandless Magic. There was no author which was strange, if there was anything he had learnt about Wizarding kind it was that they were notoriously arrogant and prideful, surely a distinguished author would give their names alongside the book they published? So why didn't they? Was there something dangerous about the book? Harry quickly dismissed that thought, it was from Sirius and he knew for a fact that Sirius would never do anything to harm him.

With that in mind, Harry placed the book down and began reading the rest of the letter.

I'm not going to lie and say I know what you're going through, because while I have known and experienced the pain of loss many times, it is different to your own. No experience is ever truly the same so I cannot comfort you in the way you might want or need.

But take the advice from someone who has suffered loss, please. I've suffered the loss of my parents, the loss of my best friends and I still haven't fully recovered, but locking yourself up in your room isn't going to help you. Your friends need you, Harry, I need the young boy who is my only remaining family in this world. Get out of your room and do something. Eat proper meals and start doing something. Read this book and practise the magic it details within, just do something that can take your mind off what has happened until your ready to face it once more.

Just remember your not alone nor will you ever be.

From your Honorary Uncle and proud member of the Marauders,

Remus Lupin.

Momentarily, Harry's lips twitched into a half-smile. It was the first real emotion he had showcased beside the fits of crying he had periodically partaken in. Even then, it was not completely happy, a mixture of momentary amusement and great sadness.

Folding up the letter and placing it on his bedside table, Harry turned to the book that was laid on the bed. He wasn't quite ready to sleep, too scared of revisiting the dreams that haunted him. The dreams of reliving Sirius's death over and over again like a never-ending cycle. The same cycle he had endured after his fourth year and the Triwizard Tournament, only this time with Sirius replacing Cedric.

Just thinking about it not only filled him with a sense of self-loathing and sadness, but it also filled him with a wave of unquenchable anger at his godfather's murderer, Bellatrix Lestrange. As well as the murderer of his parents and also Cedric, Tom Riddle. He had spent every day after Sirius's death up until this day thinking of different ways upon which to get his revenge. Each one more gruesome and cruel than the last and yet, he couldn't find it with him to care about how it may change him. He only cared about making Bellatrix Lestrange and Tom Riddle feel pain like he had.

Even as he was now, filled with anger and the desire for revenge, they would easily beat him. The only reason he had survived up until this point had to be because the Death Eaters underestimated him and also because he held the Prophecy.

If he was to get his revenge, he would need to get more powerful. Bellatrix was simply the first of those he wished to get revenge against. Tom Riddle being second and Peter Pettigrew being the first. Yet, while Peter would be quite simple to beat, Voldemort and Bellatrix would not be and he needed more power to do so.

Bit by bit, obstacle by obstacle, Harry vowed to climb over them all. Every limit he would break through and every mountain he would scale. No matter how many times he was knocked down, Harry would push himself back up and crawl to even greater heights.

"I don't care anymore," Harry whispered to himself in a moment of clarity, eyes widening as he looked to his hands in thought. They were shaking and after a pause, he slowly clenched them together. Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange, Peter Pettigrew, Tom Riddle. He didn't care anymore, one by one he'd bring them down and he'd do it by any means necessary. Harry was past the point of caring anymore, he just wanted it all to end.

So with newfound determination, he picked up the book and began to read. If he was to ever bring this to an end, he would need to grow far stronger than he was now. Only then would he be able to get his revenge and it would be sweet.

Chapter I

Contrary to popular belief, magic isn't impossible to use without a wand. It is simply incredibly difficult to manifest and control your magic without the help of a wand. Whereas with a wand, you need the three principles, Intent, Will and Imagination. Without it, you simply need Will and Imagination to help you with using your magic, intent simply increases its effectiveness unlike where a wand needs it to properly form and direct a spell. Magic is a living and breathing thing and exists in all things around us, it is sentient and has a will of its own.

You can't control it, but instead, you must find a way to work alongside it. To gain its trust and understand the way it thinks. There have been many theories that there are multiple facets to magic, such as how people classify it as Dark and Light. I do not believe Magic is so simple as to be classified in such away. However, I do believe there are distinctions to recognise. Otherwise, how could Dark Lords showcase great feats of magical prowess and Wandless magic if there was purely only one aspect of magic?

Therefore, I propose a theory of my own, that only two types of magic exist in the world. The internal, such as a Wizard drawing upon Magic that lives within us all in what many have called, a Magical Core. And secondly, that there is magic all around us and that we can draw upon it.

I also believe that while magic does exist as a living being, I do not believe it determines or judges people based on something as circumstantial or superficial as Good or Evil. I do believe magic holds a consciousness of its own, that it is aware of those who wield its power but acts and thinks in a way we can never understand. And much like you or I, it does not take kindly to being controlled.

This is the main reason why people struggle to use magic without a wand. Wizards and Witches love to be in control and so, find it difficult to work alongside something that isn't another Wizard or Witch. The wand was created to give them that control which is in turn why a master of Wandless magic is so much more powerful than those who rely upon Wands.

There are tales that extend all across the world of ancient Gods and Goddesses. Of Thor, the Nords God of Thunder, Lightning, Storms, Strength and Protection. The strongest of the Aesir who battled the World Serpent, Jörmungandr of myth with the mighty hammer, Mjolnir that only he could wield. Of the Hindu God, Shiva the Destroyed said to be capable of destroying the world simply by opening his third eye. Of Gods like Indra, Hades, Odin, Lugh, Poseidon, Zeus and many more.

All these Gods I believe are no deities, I believe these beings were Wizards. I believe that they reached the pinnacle of Wandless magic, tapping into the raw, untameable power and used it to do a great many wonderful and terrifying things. And so, like all tend to do when presented with overwhelming power, worshipped them as deities. Perhaps tales of their power have been exaggerated over time, even I have a hard time believing the powers touted by believers of those beings, but I have no doubt their power was a great and terrifying thing to behold.

Even after all my time studying the ancient and lost art of Wandless magic, I have barely begun to scratch the surface and I know that my dream of seeing such power for myself will never come true. Many may believe me as crazy, some already do, but I know what I believe is right that I have begun to tap into the truth of the very power with which we dedicate our lives to and I only hope that someday, the world witnesses a second coming of being like those of old.

A new age of Gods.

But that while requiring hard work and practise, I have survived for over a century by dedicating myself to the pursuit of understanding magic down its core. I have reached my limit and this book will detail everything I have learned and I hope someday, someone will realise the truth of what I have discovered and continue where I have failed.

Magic is a living contradiction. It breaks every rule we ever once knew and it's possible that in the right hand, possesses no limits or rules. Yet at the same time, it constrained by its own intricate rules that we perhaps can never truly understand. That is why I believe I have reached my limit, that I am not a contradiction similar to the magic I wield. Gods, they are a contradiction in of themselves and that is why I believe they were capable of such terrifying displays of power. They at one point existed and still do, yet at the same never did and do not. Their histories and tales are twisted and warped by the perceptions of those that believe in them.

They much like the magic they wield are a living contradiction and I believe that is why I have reached a limit to what I can do and understand. I am not a contradiction. It is just a theory and one that even I do not fully believe however, it is one that I shall not ignore nor dismiss.

So for those of you who read this book of mine, I ask that you do one thing. Be open-minded, the discoveries I have made and the understandings I have reached, not even I fully understand them. There are many contradictions in the understandings of what I have found, an aspect I know now is common throughout my discoveries.

If you wish to learn the art of Wandless magic, to tap into that raw material untameable land of power that exists upon the horizon, you must first learn to work alongside magic. To trust it and understand that it has a will that you may never understand but must carry out. It is like an ally, one that has its own ambitions and will drag you into its adventures much like you bring it into yours. A symbiotic relationship, one where both parties give and take from the other in a fair and equal arrangement.

The more you take, the more it takes from you in turn. The more you give the more it also gives in return. That is something a Wizard will always struggle to understand and why I believe none have ever reached that realm of power again. They cannot understand nor can they commit to such an arrangement.

And how you might ask, do you gain a symbiotic relationship, well that is simple. Meditate, open yourself fully to the world around you. Your senses, your mind, every fibre of your being, open it to the world and allow it to rush into you. Do not search for anything simply wait, magic already exists in us and around us in everything thing we touch. Every breath we take and release takes and releases magic in turn. Eventually, magic will find you, extending an olive branch, it will tempt you, test you and you must resist.

Do not grasp it. Do not attempt to take it. Instead, be patient, wait and allow it to decide. Convey to it your desire for partnership and it shall respond in kind. Then you must guide gently, bring it within yourself and you shall find a whole new world shall be exposed to you once you awaken.

Placing the book down, Harry did as the book said and slowly closed his eyes. It took him a few moments, his breathing erratic and fearful at the simple thought of closing his eyes. Almost as soon as he did, reflexively Harry opened them once more, sweat beginning to form upon his brow and chest heaving slightly.

Again and again, he tried, a couple of times actually falling asleep in the process. Though that was short-lived as he woke up in a cold sweat as memories of Cedric, his mother's last words and Sirius passing through the Veil awoke him once more.

However, despite the initial fear and shaking of his body, despite the tears that gathered in his eyes, Harry just glared out at the wall. Something in him had snapped upon reading Remus' letter and the fear, the loneliness, the crushing sadness and guilt while still there, just gave way to rage. Harry was beyond the point of simple anger and with newfound determination, forced himself to close his eyes.

The fear didn't dissipate like he would have hoped and he kept pushing himself to do so, not a very healthy way to train, but it was all Harry knew how to do at this point. Eventually, after many attempts and failures, Harry finally found himself submerged in darkness.

There were no memories, no flashes of green or the dreaded words of, "Avada Kedavra!" Nor was there his mother's pleasing words for mercy or her final scream. There was just silence and darkness that engulfed him fully and strangely, Harry found himself at ease.

His body floated in an endless void of nothingness, weightless and helpless as he was pulled along by an unseen tide of force. He was ascending to new heights, yet also descending to new depths. Pushed to his right, yet pulled to his left. Spinning yet remaining still.

'A contradiction.' Harry realised and in response, an orb of light appeared. It was small, no larger than a football, yet even from here, Harry found it difficult to look yet hard to look away. 'It's warm. And there's laughter.' It was an emotion he had felt only a handful of times in his life.

When he had first held his wand in his hand. When he received his first real presence in the form of his beloved owl, Hedwig. First made friends with Ron and Hermione. Being amongst the Weasley Family, almost like a part of it. At that moment, Sirius told him that they could be a family. Moments like those, fleeting yet so impactful a direct contrast to the loneliness, subdued atmosphere of the rest of his life.

And above all else, was the whispered words, Reach out and it will always be yours.

For a moment, Harry was tempted, hands reaching out, mere inches from taking the ball of his light and embracing it fully. Yet mere inches before they touched it, Harry froze, face twisting as he fought with himself and the desire to take it.

Shoulders sagging and head dropping, Harry let his hands drop by side, never once taking the ball for his own. 'If only it would be that easy.' He thought to himself, head dropping as he seemingly collapsing to his knees.

Never once did he say anything, nor did he feel anything but numbness. It was a cruel twist of fate, similar to how the Mirror of Erised had shown him a hint of a family he could have had if Fate had been kinder. It was the story of his life and one that Harry was constantly hit with and struggled to withstand. Each time hammering away a little more at the fragile sanity he held onto.

Unknowing of how long he remained there, Harry slowly looked up once more at the ball and uttered the only word that came to mind. "Please." He begged and for a short time, the ball did not move and Harry felt stupid for believing it could understand him.

Yet steadily, the ball floated down and one of its surfaces touched his side. It was not warm like it felt from a distance, but cold like the Black Lake. And Harry hissed out, suddenly jerking awake in his room, chest heaving once more. This sudden lapse of judgement on his part made everything in his room drop to the ground with a thud and Harry froze, almost like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

His heart raced, ears straining to see if his relatives had awoken but after many minutes of excruciating silence in which his heart threatened to burst from his chest, slowly he relaxed. A deep exhale of relief escaped his lips as he looked around at the room once more, Hedwig looking towards him with beady yellow eyes, silently demanding an answer as to why she was rudely awoken.

Harry only gave her a sheepish smile and looked down at his hands. They were shaking still but there was something different this time, he felt powerful. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He felt like he could run for days, crush mountains with his bare hands, and after a moment noticed something out of the corner, a light reflecting off the mirror.

Curiosity he turned and let out a little gasp of shock when he saw that the light reflecting off the mirror was from his eyes. A bright emerald gaze that shone in the dark night.

And at that moment, the floodgates opened and Harry let out a short laugh. It was louder than he intended and quickly Harry leapt onto his bed, smothering his face in the pillows as he laughed and laughed. Even as tears began streaming freely along with it, there was no denying the elation he had felt.

Finally, he had something that could help him turn the tides once more. 'Thank you, Sirius. Thank you, Padfoot.' He thanked sincerely, grip upon his sheets tightening.

Chapter II

In my previous chapter, I made my own theories on the different aspects of magic. Those being; internal magic and external magic or as I have taken to referring to it as, Wild Magic. The former indicates to what many incorrect believe to be a magical core which I find is while not incorrect, is not the entire truth. I do believe we have a storage of magic within ourselves that stores and replenishes our magical reserves. But on top of that, I believe we have a system of pathways, much like how blood is transferred around the body, the same happens for our magic.

On the other hand, external magic is the act of absorbing magic from our surroundings, taking it within ourselves to power spells and create wondrous pieces of magic, quite simple as that really but much harder to do so in practice as I have found.

In my years of research, I have found a number of things. First, a Wizard who relies upon a Wand will never be able to absorb magic from their surroundings and can only rely purely upon the magic that lies within. This is not due to a lack of talent but for one very simple reason, the Wand itself. The Wand is a means for a Wizard to control and dominate magic, force it into specific shapes and create very specific results. However, that only works because the magic that resides within us is tamer than the Wild Magic that resides in the world around us. A Wand is incapable of controlling the Wild Magic and in its attempt to do so, is destroyed.

However, just because a Wizard who utilises Wandless Magic does not mean that they can also fully absorb the Wild Magic into themselves. In fact, I find that there are two branches of Wandless Wizards, Augmenters and Conjurors.

The easiest of the two to explain first would be the Conjurors. These are quite simply Wizards who are capable of absorbing Wild Magic into themselves and use it to power their spells. The difference comes in the form of Augmenters, again they can absorb Wild Magic into themselves, but it is limited. If a Conjuror absorbs Wild Magic like a waterfall, an Augmenter can only absorb a small stream.

Their bodies for some reason are just unable to properly handle the strain that absorbing Wild Magic puts upon them. Yet in direct contrast to this, Augmenters like their name suggests can use their internal stores of Magic and what limited Wild Magic that absorbs to strengthen themselves possessing great speed, strength and durability. Like I have said many times before, Magic is a living contradiction in all its facets.

Understanding which of the two you are is quite simple once you reach a certain level of capability in the use of Wandless Magic. The first step is to discover your main elemental affinity, which will be described later. In the meantime, you will need to work on improving your skills with Wandless Magic first by moving things without touching them. It is not as easy as it sounds and is in fact very taxing on you both physically and mentally. Therefore, from personal experience, I stress that you exercise and keep a certain level of fitness.

Magic is strenuous upon the body and the more physically able you are as a host then the easier Magic will respond to your commands.

Before Harry knew, the first week had come and gone. The excitement of being able to perform Wandless Magic had kept his mind off the death of Sirius and Harry truly began to move forwards. It was slow in the beginning, his lack of proper nutrition had left his body in a weakened state and his fitness declined as a result.

But over time he began pushing himself further and further. Each day he ate more and more, in turn providing him with the energy he needed to run just that little bit faster, to go that extra inch on his distance. And shortly, his days began to form into a routine that helped keep him busy from start to finish. Never once giving him time to think and reflect about what could have been like previously.

He would wake up at six o'clock every morning and go for a run around Privet, gradually increasing the distance as to make sure to push his body to the limits. Originally he hadn't planned to do this, but the second chapter had stressed the importance of physical training. This had been the driving point in Harry's decision to do exercise and the effects spoke for themselves. Previously, when first making the connection with Magic around him, Harry had attempted something similar the next morning.

Only to struggle immensely while simply trying to lift the book off the bed. Yet he persevered and as his fitness rose and he practised consistently, Harry was now able to lift the book with ease and was now moving onto his bed. Admittedly his aunt and uncle weren't overly pleased with the blatant use of Magic, Harry had forgotten to close the door and Petunia happening to walk by in one of his attempts.

Continuing with his routine, at seven o'clock he would finish his jog and make himself a breakfast before heading upstairs and repeat the basic first steps of Wandless Magic. These were slowly levitating, dropping, hovering, summoning and banishing any object. Once again gradually increasing the speed upon which he could move the object safely and then increasing the weight and size of the object. Sometimes he would even do more intricate things like make objects perform little aerial movements.

This alone was far more taxing and difficult as this required a number of concepts. While the other techniques increased the size of his Magical Core and his overall control, this was definitely something that focused on increasing his control and the results were great.

After a quick lunch at twelve, Harry would read through the chapters he had already read before heading to the gym before returning home at three in the afternoon to practise more Wandless Magic.

After this and maybe a bit of lazing around to let his aching body rest, Harry would then have tea at around six, maybe seven. Then, giving his tea some time to settle, Harry would then go on a final jog around Privet Drive once more before allowing his body to rest fully while he read through his numerous Hogwarts books, refreshing his memory on the theory behind each subject.

One thing he had realised when looking back on the Graveyard incident in the Triwizard Tournament and the Department of Mysteries was that he was vastly underprepared for the war that was coming. All of the Death Eaters had years of experience and knowledge and Tom even more so. What did he have to have?

A few spells and a rudimentary understanding of the branches of Magic taught at Hogwarts? Not exactly enough to give him and fighting chance and that needed to change, fast. While he certainly couldn't practise the spells in the books, he could go through the wand movements, ingraining them into the body till it became instinctive.

And so, the week passed by in a similar fashion.

But as the second week was about to come about. Monday night was different. Apparently Vernon's anger and fear over Harry's constant practise of Wandless Magic along with consuming a large amount of alcohol had finally made Vernon snap. Despite the fear of retribution from his nephew and Alastor Moody, the older male stormed up to Harry as soon as he entered the house from his nighttime jog and slammed a fist into Harry's jaw.

Caught by surprise, Harry barely had time to gasp out in shock before the large meaty fist collided with his jaw and his head snapped backwards. Now with his increased physical fitness and his downright insane reactions from being a Seeker on the Quidditch team would have normally meant that he would be able to avoid such a blow. But it was struck true precisely because Harry hadn't expected it. He had been so content with the current setup, fully expecting for it to continue similarly without much in the way of change.

Of course, none of the Dursley's had been overly happy with his practice of Wandless Magic, except for Dudley who seemed torn between an ingrained hatred of the freakish displays from his parents and the wonder and awe of a young teen seeing something so amazing happen. However, they had never said or done anything, just stew and mutter to themselves and walk away leaving Harry alone.

This time it was different, copious amounts of alcohol having lowered Vernon's inhibitions enough to lash out at his freakish nephew. The punch itself was sloppy and had no technique, just raw power.

But Vernon was a large man, far larger than Harry and even his drunken state managed to swing his body around increasing the power behind the strike. Though that could have been just because he was drunk and put himself off-balance, who knows?

However, while he could have normally recovered quite quickly, when Harry's head snapped backwards it slammed into the door with enough force to send him crumpling to the floor in a daze.

"I have had enough of your freakishness, boy!" Vernon roared, his voice holding turns slight drunken slur one would expect from a drunkard as Petunia and Dudley rushed out onto the hallway at the sound. Each staring wide-eyed as Vernon rose his fist and brought it down once more into Harry's face, blood splurging from the young teen's broken nose. "I will not have you using Magic in my house anymore! I don't care what the rest of your freakish kind say! This is my house and will not allow it!"

After the fifth, things were different, an unconscious defensive act by Harry caused his Magic to lash out. First creating a barrier that blocked the sixth punch, but then carried on launching Vernon back down the corridor, slamming into the door of the cupboard under the stairs and bouncing off it, skidding along the floor and into the kitchen.

There was a momentary pause, no one moving or saying anything. Petunia and Dudley looking at Harry with wide eyes while the young man in question looked at Vernon's still body in the same fashion. Slowly Petunia and Dudley turned robotically and looked to the body of the Dursley patriarch and a high pitched scream ripped from Petunia's lips as Dudley remained in a daze.

Even as Petunia rushed to crouch down beside her husband, no one else made a move until finally, Vernon let out a groan, slowly looking around.

It took him a few moments to register what happened, but when it did, Harry quickly rushed to his feet and up the stairs, stumbling a few times as he did. Bursting into his room, Harry grabbed his wand urgently and flicked it around, all his belongs in the room shooting all across the room and into his trunk. As they did, Harry himself moved to the mirror, taking a moment to peel off his cracked and broken glasses while wiping away at the blood streaming from his nose.

It was painful to touch, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the Cruciatus Curse that Voldemort had put him under. Even so, it was tender to the touch and Harry didn't want to make it worse than it already was. So even as it continued to dribble down, splotches of red staining his sweaty shirt.

Dismissing it, Harry grabbed hold of his trunk and took a moment to calm his breathing. His Magic had always been responsive and Harry hoped that would be the case now. He had no intention of going downstairs and confronting his relatives once more, not when he could hear his uncle slurred speech still demanding to nowhere he was. Neither Petunia nor Dudley was responding which was surprising.

'I need to get out of here.' Harry told, not himself but the very toll that he had relied upon in many occasions, Magic. Vernon if still in that same drunken stupor or even in a semi-conscious state was still intent on fighting then Harry doubted it'd end pretty for anyone. So escape was the only option and that's where Magic came into play.

It had saved his life and others on many occasions and now he needed it to do the same. 'Help me, I can't stay here anymore! Take me anywhere, just not here!' That was when he heard the thumping of someone storming up the stairs, whether Vernon had figured it out or had been directed Harry wasn't sure. 'Now damnit!'

That bout of frustration triggered something as Harry felt this tugging sensation at his navel followed by the feeling of been squeezed through a very small rubber tube. Then he was gone just as Vernon began to pound at the door and screaming at his nephew that was no longer inside.

Harry groaned and coughed painfully as he stumbled forwards and collapsed to a heap against the wall in front of him. His mind dizzy and his body aching. Unwilling to trust his shaky legs at this moment, Harry looked around to see that he was actually in a small, damp alleyway. He could feel it soaking through his pants, but Harry was still recovering from the sudden Apparation and so he remained seated as he took calming breaths.

After a little while, Harry slowly gathered the strength and pushed himself up onto shaky legs only to regret the action instantly as a wave of nausea hit him. One hand clasped around his mouth as he leaned heavily against the side of the wall, feeling his stomach churn painfully and unable to stifle what was coming leaned to the side of throwing up. Yet as soon as the first bout was done and Harry wiped his mouth, a second wave came up.

'Fucking hell!' Harry thought to himself and once he was sure that there wasn't a high chance of him throwing up once more, began to stumble down the alleyway and onto the main street. It was quiet, many having retired home but despite the streets no longer bustling with hordes of Wizards, there was no mistaking the feeling or sight of Diagon Alley.

Though Harry quickly deduced that the reason for the streets being dead at this point in the evening was no doubt a result of Voldemort's return. During his stay before the Third Year, Harry had known the streets to be busy well up to the early hours of the morning. Now they were quiet, people too afraid to leave their homes while it was dark.

'Maybe you wouldn't have to be living in fear if you had listened to us in the first place.' He vindictively thought. However, there was no real guarantee that they would have been able to stop Voldemort's rise even if people had listened.

Continuing on, Harry made his way towards the Leaky Cauldron, pushing open the door. Much like outside, no one was sat around drinking or eating, the only one actually downstairs being the landlord and barkeeper, Tom himself.

Considering the quietness of the usually busy pub, Harry's arrival didn't go unnoticed, Tom turning and eyes widening. Belatedly Harry realised that with his hair cut short, his scar was in full view, something he'd probably have to sort out in the future if he didn't want Voldemort to know where he was.

"Evening Harry." Tom greeted with a smile, one that quickly turned into a frown upon seeing the state Harry was in.

Harry returned the smile weakly and noticed the way Tom's features creased with worry and concern. "Evening Tom, I'd like to order a room please." Tom nodded his head as he took the coins Harry placed the payment he paid in the summer before the third year.

"You okay Harry? You look really pale and your bleeding." Tom asked he passed a key to Harry who took it gingerly.

"I'm fine, Apparated by accident and I wasn't prepared for it. As for the blood, I walked into a pole when I wasn't looking, bust my nose." Harry answered but Tom's sceptical look told Harry he hadn't been exactly successful in lying.

"Harry." The barkeeper's voice was grave as his eyes flickered down to Harry's left arm. "Walking into a pole may explain the bloody nose, but not your arm." Confused, Harry looked down to his left arm to see a deep cut that was bleeding quite profusely. The numbness he felt from his left arm – which explained his lack of knowledge on the cut – was replaced by a sharp pain that made him suck in a deep breath. "Come on, I'll take you to St Mungo's."

"What about…"

"Don't worry about it, I'll have one of the cleaners take it up to your room." Tom tapped his wand against the bar and Harry felt the brief flash of magic before a woman walked out from a door behind the bar and levitated his trunk with a flick of her wand. No words were exchanged at all between the employee and employer. Once this was done, Tom placed one hand on Harry's shoulder and directed him towards the fireplace. "St Mungo's." He intoned clearly as he chucked a pinch of green powder down to the floor before the two disappeared in a flash of green flames.

Groaning, Harry clenched and unclenched the fingers of his left hand to test the stiffness of his newly healed arm. It had been a long process, as he had arrived at St Mungo's at seven-thirty and it was currently seven in the morning. Whatever happened in that time, he not only felt no pain from his arms or his nose, in fact, he felt great. He felt like he could move much easier and much better than before.

"Well Mr Potter, it seems that you are fully healed." The Healer looked down at the clipboard in one hand. "We would however advise against performing Apparation without proper guidance in the future." Harry nodded his head and stood up, stretching his stiff muscles.

"Is that all?" Harry asked politely and the Healer shook his head.

"We have noticed that you are suffering from a large case of malnutrition that you seemed to have only just started recovering from. We have prescribed you numerous different nutritional potions. Take one of each with every meal and that should help you fully recover within a month. You can collect them, from the reception on your way out." The Healer then looked down at his clipboard once more. "Not only that, but when healing you, we noticed numerous broken bones that hadn't fully healed. We have managed to sort them out, however, and again you should avoid any strenuous activities for two days to allow them to fully heal on their own. Other than that, you are free to go."

"Thank you." The doctor nodded his head and the two wizards went their separate way.

While walking, Harry's mind was alight with the new information he had received. Why was it, that in a single visit the doctors had managed to do more for him than Madam Pomfrey had been able to do in five years of Hogwarts? It was something that both intrigued and angered him.

Either she was incompetent or had purposely done nothing. It didn't matter as one way or another, he would find out.

So here we are, nearly two times the amount of the previous version with a lot more expansion upon Magic, especially Wandless Magic. And those parts are especially important, the first one mainly as that has an impact upon the future. I'll probably also be doing one more possible extract, maybe two at most on the book, delving into Elemental Magic as I do.

Also a quick note on how this will be updated, I want to get caught up with where I was previously very quickly as a result I intend to update a new chapter every week on Thursday. Some will of course be longer than others but like I've said before, a lot of things will be added and a few things will be changed. Anyway, this will probably the last time I ever edit and reboot this fic, if it doesn't work out this time then I probably won't ever get round to finishing it. So fingers crossed.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed this new version and expect me to explore Harry's development as a Wizard much further and even more so with his relationship with Fleur.