Harry Potter and the Cracked Reservoir
Chapter 2: Control Effort
By Musings of Apathy
Chapter 2: Control Effort
Special thanks to my Beta’s; Donalddeutsch, Kat Armstrong and Sparky40sw.
Harry found himself on his feet in his headmaster’s office that he was so familiar with. His fire tolerable with the promise of a solution, he looked around the room and noticed that his tirade of the month before hadn’t left any evidence, at least none in the physical sense. Emotionally the pain, anger and guilt of that night had given way to remorse and more guilt. Harry had not made the best choices in his short life. Due to a distinct lack of cooperation from the adults to allow him be informed of things that directly concerned him, he had little desire to run to adults when confronted with problems and this gave him an independent streak without the years of wisdom to guide his decisions.
Over the years of his education in the wizarding world he had tried at the crucial points to seek out responsible adults. When he was eleven, he sought Professor Dumbledore to report the breach of security around the philosopher’s stone and was told that it was perfectly safe by Professor McGonagall, without any consideration. He later found that, indeed, all but the final safeguard had been breached.
When he was twelve he sought out the professor charged with the retrieval of his best friend’s sister, Ginny, from the Chamber of Secrets only to find him busy fleeing his position and then have the Professor attempt to erase Harry and Ron’s memories. He was only saved from it due to a backfire from Ron’s broken wand.
In the third year of his magical education he learned that the adults in his life had been lying to him, keeping him in the dark as to the details of his parent’s death. Harry learned that the better life that he could have had growing up was dashed when his Godfather was thrown in prison, without a trial, for the betrayal of his parents and the murder of twelve muggles and one wizard. That wizard that so many thought a martyr, killed by Sirius Black, was, himself, revealed to be the Potter family’s betrayer and the man who framed his once friend for a life sentence in Azkaban. Harry’s chances at a loving home were snatched from his grasp when once again adults were more willing to believe a convoluted story than the testimony of mere children when Harry and his friends tried to tell the Minister of Magic that Sirius was innocent. His Godfather was on the run and he was sent back to the abusive home that he grew up in.
The age of fourteen found him betrayed by a man that they all trusted. No adult and very few of his peers believed that Harry didn’t put his name in for a historically deadly competition in which he was years younger than the rest of the competitors. Harry fought and succeeded only to find a plot to raise his greatest enemy. After a miraculous escape he was told by the Minister of Magic himself that Harry was lying about the traumatic events he had just experienced. He was just seeking attention. Few adults understood how he hated attention and fame.
In his fifth year he was vilified and tortured by the very adults that he was meant to trust. At the crucial time, no adults seemed to be in a school full of children to help him to make the decision that ultimately cost his Godfather’s life. Professor Dumbledore was nowhere to be found, Professor McGonagall was in St. Mungo’s, and Professor Snape was decidedly silent in Harry’s aid. He allowed Harry to be carted off into the Forbidden Forest by the very person who had been vilifying and torturing him. Only after their disastrous fight at the Ministry did Harry learn the most important bit of information, specific to him, that had been concealed for these many years. If only he had been informed he could have made better decisions and he would have known that his Godfather was in no danger.
These events were the culmination of causes for Harry’s reluctance to placing his fate and future in the hands of adults. He could still manage to trust people, just not the blind trust of a child to its mentors that he once had for some of the professors at Hogwarts.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts with the arrival of his Headmaster by way of portkey.
"Professor, you’re back," Harry said.
"Yes, hello Harry," the Professor greeted. "How are you feeling?"
Harry pondered this question for a second.
"First, sir," Harry said, "I am sorry for destroying your office at the end of last term. I had no right to do that."
"Quite alright, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said. "There was nothing that could not be repaired and it was as much as I should have expected and maybe less than I may have deserved. I hope that you are able to better control your temper this year."
"I’ll try," Harry promised. "I was wondering if my connection to Voldemort could have been influencing my mood last year?"
"That is a possibility, but I do doubt it," the Professor said. "You did have some cause for anger last year and I have seen many your age that have to learn to cope with their changing bodies and hormones that have had the same problem as you. They all grew out of it, well most anyway. On that note, how do you feel?"
"Well, it feels better now than it did last night when I first woke," Harry said. "It’s a burning sensation from the inside. I feel like I’ll lose control and be destroyed. Just burn up from the inside. It’s so intense that I was nearly in tears last night. What’s happening to me?"
"Well, this is just my guess," Dumbledore said, "but I would say that your symptoms sound like you are very powerful indeed. More powerful than any of us have previously guessed. The ritual that you witnessed must have unlocked your power in a rather violent fashion."
"Violent, sir?" Harry asked, worried after the fact.
"Not physically violent," Dumbledore reassured him, "But I may be getting ahead of myself here. Why don’t we go see Madame Pomfrey and let the professional see what is truly wrong." The Headmaster guided Harry from the office, cautious of any sudden flare-ups of magical energy coming from the boy.
"Well, now," Madame Pomfrey said to the out of season student. "Let’s see what these tests show us."
She had him lie on the nearest hospital bed and remain still while she performed test after test on his magical core. Her years of practice gave her the experience to give the perfect twist or flick necessary to diagnose something as picky as a wizard’s magic core.
"Hmm, well Mr. Potter," she said, "It would seem that Professor Dumbledore is correct in his suspicions. Your magical core has been damaged."
Harry stalled for time while he thought about what she could mean by scooting himself into a more comfortable sitting position before addressing the matron.
"I don’t understand," Harry said finally. "What does that mean?"
"Imagine that your body has a sealed clay pot within it," she painted him a mental picture. "Inside the clay pot is a person’s reserve of magical energy. Now imagine a spigot on that pot to let the contents out. If a person has a spigot, they possibly can be magical. No spigot, no witch or wizard. Nearly all of the time, if there is no spigot the magical reserve inside is very small, but occasionally a muggle will be born with a good sized magical reserve but no way out. These would be the muggles with a heightened sense of perception or some sort of natural enhancement. Now on a witch or wizard, with their spigot, there is only a little bit that can come out at any one time. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "So magic is normally controlled by the size of the spigot to let the magic out?"
"Yes," she said. "A person’s magic power is determined by the size of the spigot and their magical endurance, how long they last until they tire magically, is determined by how large their reserve is. So, in this example the spigot is the person’s natural regulation of their magical core. In your case, however, your clay pot has been damaged by whatever He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did to you last night. Most likely a failed power increasing ritual, by my guess," she said. "What has happened to you is as if your spigot was broken off and the clay pot cracked. Your magical reservoir has no more natural regulation and the hole to let the magic out is larger and more unpredictable as it stands now, Mr. Potter."
"What will this mean to me," worried Harry.
"Harry," Professor Dumbledore said. "What it means is you no longer have a natural barrier to control the flow of magic from your core and the containment for your reservoir, the clay pot in Madame Pomfrey’s description, is damaged, making it more fragile than it was before. If you were to try to cast magic at this moment, most likely it would result in a horribly overpowered spell. A simple accio could make the object travel fast enough to do considerable harm."
"What will I have to do?" Harry asked in a soft worried tone. "Can I be fixed?"
"With training, yes," the Professor said, "you will be able to contain your magic by sheer force of will. With discipline you will be able to vary the amount of magic that you make available for any spell. If, however, you are unable to gain control of this magic, it could have dire consequences to both yourself and those around you," Dumbledore said, to Harry’s distress. "Training is necessary. Lets start with a quick containment method that will last you until we can start training fully tomorrow."
He guided Harry through a simple meditation technique that, while not adequate for the long term, would help Harry to contain his magic reserves for the night. Harry learned to focus and to breath with controlled rhythm.
"Good, Harry," the Professor said. "Now, do you feel that this will hold you until tomorrow?"
"I believe so," Harry said. "Will I be able to perform magic with control?"
"Yes, I must say that you will need to perform magic," Dumbledore said. "The source within you is so great that quitting will never be an option. The magic in yourself will find an outlet and it would be much better if you were the one to choose the outlet. As for control, that will require practice."
As he was listening to the Headmaster, a wave of exhaustion swept over him, his head dipping against his wishes.
"Ah, Harry," the Headmaster continued. "Maybe you should be getting to bed."
Harry yawned broadly.
"Sure, professor," Harry said.
"Hold on, Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said as she bustled from her potions cupboard. "Once you get to sleep, your magic should be more reflexively in control, but getting to sleep may be more difficult. Here is a dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion for tonight," she gave him a small vial of potion. "And after tonight we will see what treatment you require."
Harry nodded as he took the vial of potion.
"I will allow you to sleep in your Gryffindor dorm if you would prefer, Mr. Potter," she offered to his immediate nod. "But I expect you to contact me immediately if you experience discomfort or pain." Harry nodded again to the matron’s acceptance.
"One more thing," Harry said to the Professor as he got up and put his shirt back on. "Will the ministry grant the request for me to use magic? As much as I like it here, I would hate to think that I’m stuck within these grounds for the next thirteen plus months until I’m a legal adult."
"I will see what I can do," he assured Harry as they left the infirmary. "It would not do to be telling the minister or others about the biggest reason for this. Maybe we can convince him solely on the danger surrounding you for the last year and into the future."
"Thank you pro…" Harry said as a yawn interrupted his words.
"Quite alright," Dumbledore said. "Now make good use of that potion that Madame Pomfrey has given you and get some sleep."
Harry waved goodnight as he proceeded ahead to his familiar dorm and comfortable bed.
"Good morning, professor," Harry greeted Dumbledore the next morning at breakfast.
"Ah, Harry. How did you sleep?" the Headmaster asked.
"Great!" Harry exclaimed. "I think that that’s the longest that I’ve slept outside the hospital wing."
"Good. Eat up," the Professor commanded. "It will be important to keep your energy up to maintain control. I would guess that the dismal way that your relatives have kept you did not help when the ritual assaulted you. Are they still rationing what you and your cousin eat?"
"Me more than my cousin, Professor," Harry said around a bite of eggs before he swallowed, "but I usually manage. My friends were always good for sending me packages when the Dursley’s decided that everyone needed to diet when the whale that is my cousin needed to. You know that his school sent a note last year that said that he would have to lose weight because they did not make clothes big enough for him?"
"No," Dumbledore laughed, "he must be quite the monolith of a young man."
"To say the least," Harry said.
Harry was enjoying the new camaraderie between himself and his headmaster. He was glad that they had come to an understanding about their last year. Their relationship was less than good friends but more that a headmaster and student. The fire within his chest still burned him but he did not want to ruin this easy mood too quickly.
"How will you train me to control this?" Harry asked after the plates were cleared of the morning meal.
"First we need to establish full control through advanced meditation," the Professor said, "and then we can move on to using your magic."
"How will using my magic work?" Harry asked. "I have never had to think too greatly on how to use the magic itself, just how to do the spell."
"You will start with low power spells, just like you learned in the first year," the Professor said. "I’ll try to find enough spells that you have not learned before to keep you from getting too bored. This may be a good chance to expand your spell knowledge. We need to make sure to split your experience between hexes, charms and transfiguration. We’ll keep your education balanced."
"Can I see my friends this summer?" Harry asked.
The Headmaster contemplated this for a second. "Well, as you are already away from the Dursley’s house," the Headmaster said, "I do not see anything to stop you from joining your friends after you have full control of your powers."
"Are you going to train me this summer?" asked a hopeful Harry. He could feel his destiny looming over his head and knew that he needed a lot of training to succeed.
"For the first week or so, yes," the Headmaster said with regret.
"After that, sir?" Harry asked, his voice full of worry.
"After that," the Professor said, "you will be able to progress on your own, I imagine. You will need to select your own spells and as you will be quite stuck here, I would recommend discovering new spells in the library."
"Can I have access to the restricted section?" Harry tried.
"For what reason, Harry?" the Professor asked cautiously.
"Well, over the years and all of the special projects that my friends and I have gone through," Harry said, leveling a look at his headmaster so that the man understood what projects he was speaking of, "we have gone through a lot of the unrestricted library. That and I don’t think that I will win a duel against the Deatheaters and Riddle solely out of the books in the regular section."
With a hope that Harry would not find a liking for the darker content of the restricted section, the Headmaster said, "I see no problem with that Harry, if you will agree to one thing."
"What, Sir?" Harry asked in a willing manner.
"I would like to have a regular meeting with you," the Professor said, "where you will keep me aware of all of the spells and other things that you are learning or attempting to learn from that section."
"Of course, sir," Harry said. "Thanks for trusting me."
"I would recommend that you not spread knowledge of this privilege to others," the Professor said, "as I am doing this to allow you to prepare yourself for your responsibilities."
"Can Ron and Hermione come with me?" Harry asked.
"They may, Harry," the Professor said. "But lets wait until school starts for that."
"Okay," Harry agreed. "Can we start on containing this power now? It’s distracting."
"Yes Harry, lets start," Dumbledore said.
Harry Potter and Professor Albus Dumbledore spent the next two days figuring out how to contain Harry’s magic. This was a process of discovery as there was no documentation to tell either professor or student how to proceed, as very few wizards have ever had this problem.
With just the two days of experimentation and practice they managed to invent a method of containment. Harry had to mentally contain his power source as if in a jar or the clay pot metaphor that Madame Pomfrey had referred to. He could then vary the power he presented for a spell to have complete control. Well, in theory he could. With containment and several days of practice, Harry could start to relearn to cast spells.