harry potter, rise from dust

chapter 11

ha 15 minutes and i would have been late. Anyway chapter 11 for you. my name starts with y and my alias an A so i do not own harry potter i also sadly have no patience to write so i don't own the story either. a shame since i have lots of story ideas. hey maybe i can write a book on fanfic ideas.

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Chapter 11.

23 August 1992.

Satisfied, Harry turned off the shower. He searched for a towel, grumbling when he couldn't find one. A grin spread across his face as an idea popped in his cunning mind. "Accio!" A towel shot to him. Grasping it, he smirked complacently. He didn't have to use his hands this time. Harry wasted no time wrapping the cashmere around the lower part of his body, covering his manhood. Passing the mirror placed on his bathroom wall, he paused and faced it, looking into the depths of his own reflection. Harry's body was still soaked with water, droplets sliding from the ends of his hair. He narrowed his eyes at the mirror.

He murmured something to himself, suddenly altering his emerald eyes. They turned to a color of pure gold just for a brief moment. Withdrawing from the mirror, he grinned a little - his whole body was now dry, including his hair. Whistling happily, he exited the bathroom. His whistle was cut short, however, as he was greeted by the sight of his room. It was filthy. With all the excitement, he never really did have the time to clean it this summer. Ramming those thoughts to the back of his head, Harry grinned. No matter, he'll clean it now. Eyeing all the dirt and rubbish scattered across the floor, he muttered a spell he knew would take care of the problem. Again, as he did so, his emerald eyes flashed pure gold just for the briefest moment. His room, however, was now spotless. No dust, dirt or anything disgusting.

He smiled in amusement at the situation he was in. Sauntering to his wardrobe, he pulled out something to wear.

While he was dressing, his mind was in someplace else. The old man had presented him with another technique. He was now able to use magic with both of his eyes, akin to what Merlin had shown him last summer. Harry never got tired of using it. It was thrilling. It wasn't as powerful as using magic with both of his hands, but to him, it was far more fun. He could be devious and discreet when he used his eyes. He also looked cooler that way. The problem with channeling magic through his eyes was that he couldn't cast a powerful spell, just a minor one. He could, however, still use his Telekinesis through his eyes, though the push-and-pull force was still not too strong. Overwhelmed by the excitement of the Mystic Eyes, a darker memory suddenly trespassed his thoughts. Harry shivered, unconsciously wincing, his eyes flicking shut.

Achieving the Mystic Eyes came with a price, and Harry would very much rather not go through that experience again.

It wasn't that Harry required to sacrifice anything, such as losing his sight, in order to see the magical auras. No, it was the simple reality of the training. The experience was more excruciating than anything Harry ever felt in his life. The first week of it, he had screamed in utter anguish as his own magic was being pushed to his eyes. It felt as if they were being boiled in searing, scorching water. He tried very hard to concentrate on controlling his magic, but with the feeling of fire burning through his eye sockets, it was hardly a success. Merlin informed him that he had acquired the Mystic Eyes through natural causes - Harry had not.

It was for this reason that he had to endure the pain of the training. In Harry's case, he was going against nature.

Harry had passed out after twenty minutes of training on the first week alone. Furthermore, he had to stay two weeks in Merlin's mansion for his own safety. His eyes had to be healed repetitively after another session of training. Harry hadn't questioned how Merlin handled the situation of him vanishing from the Wizarding world for two weeks, why no one came looking for him. He could only assume the old man had his ways. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, dispersing the painful memory from his head. In the third week, he had finally gotten the hang of his new magic with the help of meditation. He had just completed his training yesterday afternoon and he suspected the reason Merlin had kept him so long was that he wanted to be sure Harry's eyes weren't in pain anymore.