FicWad

AN: one of the most annoying things I find in these types of stories where harry gets powers before he is 11 is that he is so effing accepting. I am also looking for a beta… anyone… just get to read it before everyone else I don’t make too many mistakes so it wont be too bad a job…

Chapter 1. His Stick?

Harry groaned as the usually harsh sunlight hit his eyelids waking him as usual at the break of dawn. But today was different, the light was brighter, harsher and it felt as if it had more heat than usual. Harry’s first thought was that he woke later than usual and it was already into late morning with the sun was full into the sky, but when he dared crack open one eyes he saw only about a quarter of the sun had broken the horizon.

“Huh?” the small exclamation grumbled out of Harry’s mouth. “That’s… unusual.”

With a groan, that was all to do with the mentality that he did not want to get up, he pushed up from the ground in a classic push-up position, and noticed this movement didn’t have the normal feeling of weakness, and struggle that he usually had when he pushed himself up in the morning. Looking around quickly he saw that he was still on the forest floor with leaf liter, all through his clothes. He looked behind him and saw what he was hoping for, but what he feared as well.

Scrambling up to his feet he spun around to look at the scorched and split, ancient tree that he inhabited last night. He thought it was all a dream but there was the proof… some proof. The stick he was holding was gone. He could only conclude it must have shattered when the lighting hit… or his mind was just scrambled into hallucinating all of it because of the lighting strike. That seemed the most obvious answer. But as harry finished justifying his answer in his mind he saw it, one of those little stick bugs, next to an almost foot long piece of springy wood.

“Shit!” Harry exclaimed whilst drawing out the S, he reached up to cradle his head in his hands, but as he bought up his right hand, there were bloodstains on it, but no cuts they were gone. With a pained groan Harry dropped to the fall and put his head between his knees and started breathing heavily.

Sitting there for a indeterminate amount of time Harry looked up only to be startled and begun crawling his way from the small stick figure which had dragged the stick along with and… stood for a lack of a better word, in front of Harry and gestured to the stick and pushed it forward to harry.

“Okay… crazy stick bugs carving out a stick from a tree, make me bleed all over it, and then lighting. HA! The Dursley have finally cracked me!” Harry mumbled to himself in a dejected tone, somehow knowing there was nothing wrong, just something different. It felt… right, like something that had been missing was suddenly there, but he had no clue to what it was.

A grating sound brought him back from his mind to see the stick bug clawing gently on his old wrist watch, as not to brake it but get his attention. As soon as it saw harry pay attention it hopped and skipped off, leaving the stick at Harry’s feet. It was there that Harry got a much better look at it. The Wood, although looking brown, and a much more distinctly grey color to it, with crimson, blood red streaks running along the grain of the wood going through the whole length of the wood. The tip, where he presumed the lighting struck, instead of being scorched as he expected it was a bright yellow, almost white, and he had a feeling it was the exact same shade as the lighting as which struck it. From the tip to about half way down the stick there were the bright yellow streaks, but as it went further down it faded into the wood.

Reaching over Harry picked up the stick by the larger end, noticing when it was in his hand it fit perfectly like there was a custom made grip to it. Looking down he could see there was indeed a handle but carved into the wood just so it would flow into the rest of it without much pause. All in all it looked like and master piece of art.

Like instinct Harry, pointed the wand so it was at the same angle as his arm, and saw two small holes there. Bring it up to his eye with one hand he reached up with his other and moved it around his face as if to adjust a pair of glasses that were not there.

Forgetting all about the two small holes at the bottom of the stick he frantically jumped to his feet and started looking around. Not looking for something, just seeing things.

“Holy Christ!” Harry said in a breathless and awed voice. For you see not even twenty four hours ago, if Harry was without his glasses he could put his hand ten centimeters in front of his face and not see it clearly. Now he was seeing everything better than he ever has before, picking up the fine detail of every leaf, on every tree, it was amazing.

Harry started laughing, one of those full hearty, full belly laughs, a laugh that is one used when all tension has disappeared in a moment to something inane, yet it lacks that hysterical quality to it. And laugh Harry did, for hours it seemed, but it was only for one breath. He put his hands on his knees then, his right still clutching the stick and saw his discarded glasses to too far away. Walking over to them he contemplated breaking them, put he knew he would be punished more for this. So instead he picked them up, then with unnatural strength pushed the lenses out and placed them back on the bridge of his nose.

Looking back over at the burnt and split tree, he saw even more of the strange and agile stick figures carving out the centre of the tree, making the vey core ring of the tree into a smooth, seemingly well polished six foot long stick, which could only described as a staff. But if that was true, that
Could only make that stick in his had a what? A Wand? It was just such… a feminine prospect. If there was such a thing, why would a man have a wand, or at least call it a wand, it sounds like something a fairy or a fairy godmother would use.

Although Harry liked to read mainly informative books, did not mean he read the odd fantasy book, and some of his favorite was about the ancient and powerful wizard Merlin. If this Wand was indeed a wand, he would have to rename it to something more… manly. But again, he could be hallucinating; he did sleep outside for the night, in a tree, during a rainstorm, on an autumn night, in Britain. He concluded that considering the facts at the moment, he was probably having fever dreams. But at least in this fever dream something cool is happening. Harry Potter had gotten himself a Magical Foci.

Looking down at his new foci, harry looked back at the staff in the middle of the burnt out husk on the ancient tree and picked it up, and gave it a whirl.

“Most definitely a fever dream there is no way I could be this coordinated with a staff if just picked it up without it being a fever dream.” Said Harry to himself, as he spun the staff around his body in a figure of eight using both hands before twirling in his right hand. Looking at it, the wood had the same grey brown color but this had far less red streaks, and they were a more earthy color in nature, and not anything like the blood read streaks in his foci. The staff was completely symmetrical, about six foot long, and about two finger joints in width, it thickens near both ends, but one end is rounded while the other was flat.

Just like his foci his staff had two holes at one end, and taking a closer look at both he could see that they spiraled around each other and he could guess they went the whole length of each implement, stopping just short of the other end. He had no idea as to what these holes were but he could sense that they have a very important role in his foci and staff. Looking at his staff, then to his foci he was wondering if he should put some of his blood on the staff, but decided against that thinking that if it wanted the blood he was sure the stick figures would be nice enough to slice open his arm so the blood would spill over it.

Looking up at the sky he could see there were some clouds retreating over to the north with the wind and the sun was just coming over the horizon. Harry stood there for a moment watching the last bit of the horizon slip above the horizon before starting to move back to the cabins.

“Well let’s see what we can do so that the dream Dursley’s doesn’t see either of these” Harry stated to himself. Looking at his foci, he frowned at the thought of his family and gasped and jumped back in shock swearing that a burst of… lighting, a small burst jumped out of the end of his wand. Laughing hard he wheezed a bit saying to himself in a reassuring way

“Ha! I am in a dream, of course its lighting! Meet Harry Potter the boy wonder who can wield the storm!” his laughing took on a distinctive hysterical quality to it near the end, and he had to stop walking as he risked falling and hurting himself.

Stop suddenly with only a puff or two to regain his breath Harry sat on the leaf litter and calmed himself, as his blood started to cool, and his heart rate slowed, his mind slowed a little and that’s when he noticed it. He could still feel everything, all the energy flowing through all the living things there, and then looking down at his two foci, he saw that they glowed with energy brighter than anything else around him. Groaning and gasping at the same time Harry flopped his head down to think, but on the way down his head hit the staff.

Only one thought went through his head before he passed out, two maybe. Damn how hard is that staff! Was his active thought, but beneath this it was a dread that he knew this probably was a dream, and when he woke up that small measure of power he had would be taken away forever.


Waking up for the second time in one day to a blinding light shining into his eyes, Harry could not help but groan out “not again!”

Grumbling to himself as he got up, he noticed that he felt more rested than he had ever had before, he felt stronger as well, healthier. Harry put this down to sleeping well past the time he usually woke and spending the night away from the Dursley’s, he knew that would do wonders for his mental health. Looking up in the sky he noticed that the sun had clear the horizon by a decent amount, and he guessed it was close to eleven in the morning.

Stretching his back and arms he prepared to head off when he took stock of his surroundings. Trees, lots of them, makes sense he was in a forest, no lighting struck tree about… “Pity it was a good dream, but a dream is a dream” Harry said clearly into the air, in an effort to comfort himself. Sighing he took two steps before he froze; it was almost like he had been snap frozen. There on the tree directly in front of him, was a grayish staff, propped up against a tree with a red, grey and yellow wand at the base of the staff where it touched the ground.

“What the…” Harry said in a breathless voice. Thinking about it Harry thought it must be a pretty bad fever he had or it was true, and he suddenly got himself two magical foci, a wand and a Staff. “Can’t be not true… oh man.” Closing his eyes as he said this he started up a mantra of “Not true, can’t be there” in his mind he saw the tree but with staff and wand near it. Harry subconsciously felt a swell of energy and open his eyes.

“Phew… knew it couldn’t be true.” Harry sound relieved but he was very disappointed as well, he knew it could not be true, magic just was not real. But he really longed for that power, earned for it. With this earning he begun to think of the staff and the wand and, he was still staring at the tree, but this time he felt the swell of energy his surroundings.

With a small ‘pop’ and a high pitched shriek, staff and wand were once again at the foot of the tree. “Holy… NO!” Harry was backing away from the tree with the staff and wand at its feet, when he fell backwards tripping over a root hidden in the leaf litter. Jumping back to his feet he started to run… away from the tree.

“no, NO! it can’t be real! MAGIC! No it can’t be. AHHH!” with this last shout he suddenly stopped and kicked at the base of a large tree. “OW” grabbing at his foot he fell to floor once again. Grumbling under his breath about uppity trees, and bad shoes, his mind wondered but to the staff and wand. What if magic was real? No, it can not be true, I mean it couldn’t be. Seeing the staff and wan in his minds eye again, suddenly the was a ‘pop’ in the air breaking his grumbling and another shriek followed the appearance of the staff and wand.

“What! What do you want from me!” with scarcely an effort Harry was once again on his feet running from the staff and wand, casting backwards glances towards where he thought they were. He was running faster than he ever had before, and he learned to never take his eyes off of where he was running when he suddenly stopped abruptly with a muffled ‘oompf’ as the air left his lungs and thump as his body hit the ground.

Gasping for breath Harry managed to eject out a few words “ stupid…Trees!... in my… WAY!” not even caring that he was babbling he started to shout in his mind. No what the hell is happening. This is so stupid. There is not such thing as magic. Fever dream, yeah that’s it. AHHH! Why does this always happen to me, I am a normal boy. I am not a FREAK. “AHHHH! Wake UP!” shouted Harry as he started to hit himself in the head fully intending to wake himself up from his fever dream.

Harry did not even get to hot himself a second time, as he fell from his kneeling position to back to lying on the ground groaning. Harry knew he was weak, there was no way he could hit himself hard enough to do that much damage. But looking up at his right hand, the one he punched himself with he saw fresh blood on his knuckles, reaching up with his left hand he touch the place where he hit and winced. Bringing his hand back to his eyes he saw that they were blood stained.

Letting his arms flop back to the ground he started to breath deeper, fully intending on following his body said. He was hurt, he was dizzy, and he was a bit numb, he needed to sleep. Closing his eyes, he heard a muffled voice. As it got louder he could start to make out some of the words

“Dudley this way… heard… shouting… cousin” Harry recognized that voice. Piers one of Dudley’s friends, it seemed that they indeed started up another round of Harry Hunting. He could hear them now, a crashing in the woods, they were getting closer and they made no effort to be quiet. If Harry could have gotten up he would have run, but his arms, and muscles just would not work, they were just too weak.

“There he is! Let’s get Him!” shouted Dudley as he run towards me, not even slowing as he reached me, he drew back his leg and kicked me in the ribs using the momentum of his run to add strength to it.

“Dudley. Duds. STOP! Look at his head, its bleeding. We have to go man, we could get into trouble” Piers said in a shaky voice as he grappled with Dudley’s shoulders. Dudley seeing what Piers was talked about looked at Harry’s head and started to panic.

“Oh man, we have to get out of here. Man its looks like he going to die!” Dudley’s other friends did not even stay with them as soon and he saw Harry’s head , he just bolted back to the cabin, leaving Piers and Dudley shocked for a moment before they too run.

Oh well, it seems it’s the same old Dudley even in my fever dream. This was the last coherent thought Harry could get out before he blacked out from punching himself in the head.