In Evidence Of Magical Theory

Chapter One ~ The Link

Consciousness returned slowly to Harry.

The first thing he became aware of was a strange, rushing sensation like a gust of wind blowing through his chest, or his stomach -- he wasn't sure which. But it radiated out through his veins and he could sense it in his whole body, from his hair to his toes. It... vibrated, vague and unsettling.

His other senses began returning to him, faint voices talking over each other in angry whispers, a sharp potion-like odor that gave cognizance to his surroundings: he was in the medical wing, yes. Madam Pomfrey was one of the voices.

Struggling a bit against the whirl of his mind, Harry forced his eyes open. He was greeted by the sight of people standing around his bed: Madam Pomfrey was circling his feet with her wand and murmuring incantations and McGonagall was standing close to his head, her face tight with worry. But her gaze was off to his left, on a man standing in between his and another bed.

Harry cleared his throat, and watched as three sets of eyes swiveled in his direction. The man was Professor Highlash, the new teacher for Advanced Magical Theory, and with a jolt, Harry began piecing together what happened. He jerked, trying to sit up, and was firmly pushed back into the pillows by McGonagall's implacable hand.

"Potter. How you do you feel?"

Harry cleared his throat again, eyes flicking from one face to another. "Bit weird. What happened? I remember..."

"Yes?" Pomfrey asked, still circling her wand, only now over his stomach. The twisty feeling intensified, verging on discomfort.

"We were in Advanced Theory..." Harry said tentatively, glancing over at Highlash, who nodded with a severe look on his ancient face, "practicing connecting our minds with our magical cores. And... something happened. What happened?"

The adults exchanged looks that he couldn't interpret and dread twisted inside Harry alongside the new sensation. Was that it? Had something happened to his magic? McGonagall laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Harry turned his face up to her in raw panic.

"There was an... incident, with your magical core," she told him quietly.

Harry pushed back a brief wave of nausea and screwed up his courage. "Am I... Am I a squib now, or something?"

Pomfrey, who had finished circling his head with her wand, withdrew it abruptly. Cheerfully, she announced, "All there!" her voice extremely confident and louder than anyone had been yet. Harry sagged against his pillows with relief and began to smile until he noticed another look being exchanged among the adults.

Uncertainly, he looked at Professor Highlash. "What happened?"

Highlash looked down to the bed next to him silently. McGonagall answered. "You tried to intervene when you saw a student attempt to hex someone standing near you. Unfortunately, your shield charm -- though skillful as ever, Potter -- was not quite quick enough. The hex penetrated its intended target and your shield bounced the hex back toward you."

Harry had a sudden blurred memory of Zacharias Smith casting his wand with a muttered snicker in his and Malfoy's direction, and of his own automatic response. He was astonished his shield hadn't worked in time, but chose not to comment on it. "

Smith," Harry supplied grimly. "Bloody coward."

"Indeed." McGonagall's lips were pursed tightly. "He has been dealt with."

"What was the hex he sent?"

"Apparently, he thought it would be amusing to bind Mr. Malfoy's mouth closed. Unfortunately - for many reasons - the binding spell was miscast," McGonagall said with another glance to the bed next to him. Harry thought for a moment about the funny sensation inside him.