Reflections in Recovery

Harry yawned as he sat up in bed, though this wasn't really his bed, it was a bed in the hospital wing. The events of last night flooded through Harry's brain, while he was rather pleased with how well he did, he wished he did better. All of Harry's spells, the spells he put hours and hours into practicing, ended up being useless because he was disarmed before he could even shoot a spell off.

Quirrell might have been a creepy bastard but he had expected Harry to attack and had reacted quickly, he was faster than Harry and Harry really didn't like that. This wasn't like the Dursley's where he was outnumbered by people naturally bigger than him, Harry had always prided himself on his speed, it was how he avoided getting hurt a lot.

Speed was something that could be improved, and Harry vowed to improve if only so he could actually start firing off spells when a duel starts. He would need to start devoting more free time into drawing and using his wand. Maybe he could start practicing like muggles do with guns, where he would holster it then draw it and shoot before putting it back in the holster and repeating the process until he was faster. He needed to get better, the Dursley's might have ruled in the muggle world but this was the wizarding world, here was where he belonged. He was no longer an animal in a cage, he was wild and free.

"Are you alright?" Jet hissed as he crawled onto Harry's lap.

"I have you with me," Harry smiled as he petted Jet's head. "I'll always be fine with you here."

"True." Jet easily agreed. Any further conversation was cut off by Professor Dumbledore walking into the hospital wing.

"Hello Harry," He greeted as he stopped at the foot of Harry's bed. "how are you?" He asked.

"I'm fine sir." Harry replied just as Jet climbed up Harry's shoulders.

"Are you? Are you really?" Dumbledore asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Physically, I'm fine sir." Harry answered.

"Physically?" Dumbledore repeated.

"I am...admittedly disappointed in myself sir." Harry sighed.

"Disappointed? Whatever for?" Dumbledore asked, looking completely baffled.

"I spent the last year practicing and practicing, I practiced all of my spells repeatedly and I even practiced taking my wand in and out of wand holster. I practiced and practiced and then when it really mattered I was disarmed before I could even cast a spell." Harry said in frustrated voice. "I don't expect to beat everyone sir, but I was hoping I would have done better. If it wasn't for Jet and the miracle burning then I would probably be dead right now."

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed as he sat down on the bed and looked at Harry. "did I ever tell you about the first time I lost a duel?"

"You may or may not have forgotten sir, but we don't really talk much and the few times we have talked we have had more important things to discuss." Harry reminded him.

"True," Dumbledore chuckled. "but indulge me for a moment please. When I was a young student I was much like you in that I was the best in my year, teachers and students praised me, I felt like I could take on the world and win. But then I lost my first duel, I was facing a third year at the time and it was still a rather surprising loss as I had accidentally tripped on a book and fell into a disarming spell. I remember how disappointed I was in myself, it didn't matter to me that I was winning the duel before I tripped, I just couldn't believe I lost.

I practiced and practiced, and eventually came back and won. I hated losing, but as I grew older I realized something important. Defeat does not make you weak, nor does it make you a bad wizard, defeat is merely an opportunity for growth. Learn from it, use it to see where you can improve and then allow yourself to improve. Do you understand, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I think so." Harry said after a moment.

"That is good, though I must ask, what is your reason for working so hard, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "What is it you desire? To be the best? Power?"

"Well...both of those, sir. But it's not just that."

"Oh?"

"Well, when I lived in the Dursley's I was always unable to fight back. I was unable to be who I wanted to be because I had to work on staying out of the way and not getting in trouble." Harry admitted. "Now, I'm here and not only can I freely try my best at something but I can also finally be strong, you know? I'm no longer weak little Harry who lives under the stairs, I'm proud Harry Potter, first year wizard. And also...I just..."

"Just what Harry?" Dumbledore asked, when it looked like Harry was struggling to put words to his thoughts.

"I just...love magic, you know." Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not going to pretend that I love each and every bit of magic but I do love it, I mean magic is just...wonderful. It's brilliant and like something out of a dream, the purebloods don't seem to think it's special, probably because they lived with it their whole lives. But the muggleborns and muggle raised like me, I think they're...disappointing." Harry admitted.

"Disappointing?"

"Yeah, I mean I fell in love with magic but they just sort of...I don't know...got used to it. I mean, do you know who Hermione Granger is?"

"Ah yes, I believe I do, a Gryffindor in your year, I believe. I'm told she is quite the impressive student."

"Yeah, she might be but she doesn't have a passion for magic. Her passion is in getting good grades, that's why she work so hard. Me, I see the good grades as just a bonus, an indicator that I'm doing well. Magic is such a beautiful thing but people don't seem to care about it after a certain while, I mean I understand that people get used to it but nobody has that sense of wonder anymore."

"The drive to learn as much as possible is gone," Dumbledore continued for Harry. "it's become a part of everyday life and they take it for granted."

"Exactly!" Harry agreed quickly. "I don't think I can ever do that, if it wasn't for magic then I wouldn't have my best friend." Harry said as he gestured to Jet.

"I understand, Harry." Dumbledore said in a soft voice. In that moment Harry reminded Dumbledore of two people, Tom Riddle AKA Voldemort, and himself. Tom had a passion for magic because he wanted the power and strength from it, just like Harry. But when Dumbledore was younger he also felt the same as Harry, believing that magic was something to be appreciated and that it was disappointing that people didn't have the same passion for it as him.

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