August 9, 1988
England, Cokeworth, Spinner's End, Severus Snape's House
As I studied the pile of matches, I considered where to begin. Experience suggested that the first step should be clearing my mind and meditating.
I sat on the floor before the desk and arranged the matches one by one across its surface. My toad teacher Fukasaku-san had always told me to visualize every process and every flow of energy around me. That was how I had learned to absorb natural energy and mix it with my chakra. Thanks to that, I had become the youngest shinobi ever to master Sage Mode. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say the only human who had mastered Sage Mode completely. Jiraiya could use it too, but Fukasaku-san said his technique was not flawless.
Yes, Uzumaki Naruto is impressive... had been impressive. But I had decided that Harry Potter would also become worthy of being 'Chosen'.
Magic was another kind of energy, one that a wizard somehow put into practice. When I had visited this world in my own body, I could sense magical currents while in Sage Mode. That had allowed me to detect mages in the area and feel manifestations of magic. Judging by the pattern of their energy systems, wizards had reminded me of storage seals or capacitors. Most of them were low-powered, built almost entirely around 'taking and releasing' with hardly any internal reserve. Somehow, they absorbed a certain energy from outside themselves and transformed it into magic. I had seen that when I examined Harry in Sage Mode. Sensei's spellcasting had reminded me of all of it. Meeting an adult mage who performed magic in front of me was very useful.
The fundamental difference between shinobi and mages was the shinobi's internal reserve, replenished by the body's own forces. A shinobi's power depended on the size of that reserve, the carrying capacity of the chakra pathways, the body's elemental affinities...
Both systems had advantages. In theory, a mage could cast spells endlessly without worrying about a finite reserve. The important thing was learning how to draw in and transform their magical energy from the surrounding space. In practice, I suspected they could continue casting only while they still had physical strength—and while no one took away their 'spellcasting tool'. It also seemed that a wizard's strength in this world depended on the 'throughput' of his magical flow. Harry had used that wand for a reason. For most wizards, the piece of wood was probably a way to concentrate and operate the current by channeling it through the wand. Sensei had also used his when placing those complicated locking spells. For a moment, I thought I had seen this world's equivalent of fūinjutsu script within the magic. I needed to train my perception. Perhaps seeing magic was perfectly normal and I was simply too young to do it properly.
As for magical children, their 'throughput' was probably low because of their age, while the 'absorption' of magical energy occurred mainly through emotion. That was why the magic burst out uncontrollably. It was as if a child took a mouthful of water but, instead of swallowing it, using it for the body's needs, and later disposing of it with a thoughtful expression, immediately sprayed the water out of his mouth. Sometimes that could be useful, but not always.
If I thought about it, every manifestation of my magic had involved nature—water, air, fire, earth, even effects upon the body. I had floated because I felt light, and somewhere deep inside I had experienced relief that the family I had entered was becoming normal. That was the very 'intent' Sensei had mentioned. In Uncle Vernon's case, the thought that he needed help had flashed through my mind. I had begun calculating what could be done, but before I could finish thinking, the magic 'helped' on its own.
When Sensei prepared lunch, he had thoroughly demonstrated the possibilities of this 'magical intent'. He had said levitation was one of the simplest expressions of accidental magic, which meant he controlled it with ease. I would even say he did it casually. On the other hand, Gaara controlled sand with a single mental command. He only began moving his hands when there was too much sand...
Aha! I remembered an important detail about my friend's techniques. Gaara saturated his own sand with chakra and could control it mentally as though it were his chakra. By mixing 'his sand' with ordinary sand containing less chakra, he could control that too, though it required more precise instructions about what the sand should do and where it should go. As a child, when he used 'Sand Coffin' to crush an enemy, he made a gesture with his palm—closing it into a fist—to control the sand's pressure...
I thought I understood.
Time to test it.
I placed a match on my palm and tried to imagine my magic enveloping it. Visualization. I pictured my nonexistent flow of chakra. I sensed the wooden structure, the object's dimensions and volume, and... that same warmth in my chest.
'Stay!' I ordered mentally, slowly lowering my palm while continuing to stare at the match.
It remained suspended in the air.
I had not expected to succeed on the first attempt!
For several minutes, I amused myself by making the match fly from one palm to the other. My experience issuing mental orders to clones, whose obedience I never doubted, probably helped as well. It was not Gaara's sand, but it was close.
Yes, magic, like chakra, seemed to reject doubt. You had to believe that you could do it. Intent. I had struggled with that greatly at first. Perfect hand seals alone were not enough to produce a technique. You also had to release the correct amount of chakra into your hands and believe the technique would work. Otherwise, you might make a mistake, lose the rhythm, hesitate, or break concentration.
Concentration was extremely important here too. The moment I became distracted, the match fell. I could barely imagine what life was like for Suna's puppet masters. In principle, they controlled their puppets through chakra threads in a very similar fashion. Was that not a kind of levitation? How many objects did they have to concentrate on? Even the simplest puppet consisted of dozens of components, and all of them had to function like a single organism... If Sasori were here, he could probably turn all these matches into a little person that moved convincingly like a living creature.
That was why developing automatic responses was vital. Or perhaps it did not work exactly as I imagined. Maybe puppet masters perceived their puppets as whole organisms, which meant that this concept of intent was more important than controlling every part separately.
Let us test that.
I selected forty matches and pushed the rest aside. One by one, I 'saturated' each of my miniature training tools with magic, just as I had done with the first, then arranged them into a large square covering almost the entire desk, with ten matches along each side.
If I perceived the figure as one complete being, could I do something with it? Rearrange it into a triangle, for example?
The matches began moving with visible strain, bouncing slightly against the desktop. I imagined the square transforming into a triangle, as though I were commanding a column of clones. Reluctantly, my little wooden soldiers scraped across the desk. The upper side of the square 'broke' and crept upward, pulling the others behind it in a wedge. The result was a long triangle with a base ten matches wide and fifteen matches along each sloping side.
A circle? Done.
A rectangle? Done.
My name?
The matches darted around but eventually produced 'HARRI POTI'.* There were not enough for anything longer.
After that, I ordered the soldiers to rise, and their black heads formed a dense little square. Incidentally, the matches lying in a separate pile were trembling as well. I ordered them to form a neighboring column, but that distracted me. The first forty matches fell into a heap, while the remaining sixty bounced but failed to arrange themselves.
However, when I concentrated on a single match from the 'untouched' and 'unsaturated' pile, it slowly and reluctantly flew into my palm.
Interesting. So I could affect any object, but the speed and precision of manipulation depended on how thoroughly it had been saturated with my chakr... magic. A wizard's wand probably leapt into his hand the moment he thought about it. At least, I had never once noticed Sensei's wand appearing or disappearing. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone. That also explained why the eggs had flown much more slowly than the books he had 'chased' off the armchair so Aunt Petunia could sit.
Understood.
"Not bad," Sensei's voice interrupted my thoughts and my game with the slowly floating match. "I did not expect you to achieve levitation so quickly."
I still had no idea how to draw magic from the surrounding space. I had merely used experience from my previous life and possibly reinvented the kunai.
"Tell me, sir, what acts as the conductor of magic?" I was not sure he would understand or take the question seriously, but it was worth asking.
Snape-sensei considered it before answering.
"That is a complicated question, Harry, but personally I believe our blood conducts magic. Otherwise, Ritual Magic would not exist, nor would... certain concepts found in the magical world."
"Then is a wizard's blood composition different from a Muggle's?" I clarified.
If I continued comparing this world with my own, mages appeared to be people with kekkei genkai. A 'bloodline limit', or 'enhanced genome', granted its bearer abilities unavailable to ordinary shinobi. For example, it could allow someone to combine two elements into one. Captain Yamato combined water and earth to create Wood Release. Haku used Ice Release by combining water and wind. Sasuke also possessed a kekkei genkai: the Uchiha clan's dōjutsu, the Sharingan. Special eyes capable of... many things.
The mages' 'enhanced genome' allowed them to transform some form of universal energy into practical magic. They could perform peculiar 'miracles' inaccessible to most people.
"Possibly," Sensei answered my question about blood composition. "However, such research is almost impossible. Obtaining a wizard's blood voluntarily would be a considerable achievement. Almost any personal possession, as well as hair, saliva, and especially blood, can be used to harm someone, cast a curse, or breach certain types of protection. You should therefore be cautious about scattering your... ingredients."
"I will remember that, sir." I nodded.
It seemed I had found the most obvious ingredient for ink.
"It is lunchtime," Sensei explained, then muttered, "You were so quiet for so long that I thought you had fallen asleep."
At that moment, I became aware of my hunger again.
"Lunch is very good, sir," I answered without attempting to hide my delight.
I hoped Sensei was not frightened by gap-toothed smiles.