Hogwarts Letter

The night enveloped the park in a velvety darkness, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Lucas stood motionless, his lean frame hidden beneath layers of black clothing. His dark hair melted into the shadows, and his green eyes, usually so vivid, were muted in the dim light. He had cast his spells of invisibility, silencing, and thermal masking with practiced ease, rendering himself little more than a specter in the night.

But his mind was very active, grappling with a problem that had been troubling him for days. Technology, with its ever-watchful cameras and sensors, posed a constant threat to his magical practices. Even in the privacy of his own room, he felt the weight of their potential gaze, not allowing him to use his magic.

He needed a way to detect electricity, to sense the presence of these electronic sentinels. His current sensory spells, while formidable, were not up to the task. They could discern warmth, movement, and life, but the cold, steady pulse of electrical current eluded them.

Lucas had delved into the lightning element before, crafting spells to create and manipulate electricity. But these were crude tools, designed for brute force, not the subtle art of detection.

Closing his eyes, he delved into his memories, seeking a spark of inspiration. He recalled his early forays into simultaneous spellcasting, how he had learned to balance the opposing forces of warmth and cold, creating a stable space for their coexistence. That breakthrough had been the cornerstone of so much of his later work.

Perhaps, he pondered, I can apply that principle to water and air. Create a new kind of sensory net.

Lucas extended his hands, his slender fingers splayed outward, and began to will his magic. He envisioned the air around him filled with whispering winds, each gust attuned to the faintest electrical charge. In his mind's eye, a delicate mist rose from a vast sea, blanketing the area, amplifying the wind's sensitivity.

But as he attempted to fuse these elements, to form the ethereal layer that would detect electricity, something felt amiss. The winds and mist remained distinct, separate, not quite syncing as he had anticipated. He could sense the electricity emanating from the nearby park lights, but it was distant, indistinct, like trying to make out a whisper in a noisy room.

Frowning, Lucas allowed the spell to fade. He needed a different tack. Perhaps if he concentrated more on the water element, using it as a conduit...

He tried again, this time picturing the mist as a web of minuscule, charged droplets, each one responding to the presence of electricity. But as he cast the spell, a sudden jolt coursed through his body, like a massive static shock. The mist flickered and vanished, leaving him momentarily stunned.

"Fuck!" Lucas grunted as pain lanced through his nerves as he fell to the ground while twitching from the electrical overload. For a minute, he lay there, his breathing ragged and his heart racing. The damp grass soaked through his clothes as the earthy scent filled his nostrils.

That hurt way too much, damn it. That was too much emphasis on the mist, there are too many drops of charged water in that visualization and they combined to shock me, he realized as his senses slowly returned. It's overwhelming the winds which should guide the charged droplets within the mist away from my person and towards my surroundings, destabilizing the spell.

With a groan, Lucas pushed himself up to a sitting position. He closed his eyes, focusing inward, and cast his Revitalization Spell. A soothing warmth spread through his body, easing the pain, mending the minor burns from the shock. As the healing energy did its work, he took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs, clearing his mind.

I have to find the right balance, he pondered, the perfect harmony between the charged mist and winds.

His thoughts turned to his Frostfire spells, and the semi-permeable barrier he had created to facilitate the exchange of energy between warmth and cold. Perhaps therein lay the answer.

Rising to his feet, Lucas brushed off his black jeans and adjusted his dark hoodie. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the residual tension from the shock slowly dissipate.

Once more, he extended his hands with his fingers flexing slightly as he gathered his power. He visualized the whispering winds and the rising mist, but this time, he imagined a paper-thin, ethereal membrane between them. A barrier that allowed them to interact, to share their properties, without one overpowering the other.

As he concentrated, he felt a shift, a subtle click as the pieces fell into place. The winds and mist merged, creating a delicate, responsive network that draped over his surroundings like a second skin. Suddenly, he could feel the electricity in the air, the steady hum of the park lights, the faint static clinging to his clothes.

It was as if the world had gained a new dimension, a stratum of electrical energy that he could perceive as readily as the breeze on his skin. He could "see" the wiring beneath the ground, follow the flow of power from the lights to their source.

Good, that was an initial success. Static Etherweb, he thought as a small smile played on his lips. That's what I'll call it.

But as he was feeling happy, Lucas became aware of the spell's constraints. The sheer volume of electrical activity in the park was already starting to overwhelm his senses, the various signals blending into a discordant buzz.

He would need to practice, to learn to sift through the noise and isolate the specific signatures he was searching for. And he would need to maintain a constant state of calm, of unwavering focus, to keep the spell stable.

Gradually, Lucas allowed the Static Etherweb to dissipate, the ethereal network fading into the night air. He drew in a deep breath, tasting the crisp, clean air, feeling the lingering tingle of electricity on his skin.

It's a start, he thought as his gaze drifted over the darkened park. But I'll have to refine the spell greatly if I want it to actually be usable on a regular basis and especially in areas with a lot of electricity. This park is relatively devoid of electricity and it still threatened to overwhelm me...

With a final glance at his surroundings, Lucas began to make his way back home with silent footsteps on the dew-damp grass.

oo0ooOoo0oo

Lucas descended the stairs, his bare feet making soft thumps against the worn carpet. As he reached the bottom step, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of Vernon's aftershave. He heard the quiet murmur of voices coming from the living room and followed the sound.

Petunia and Vernon sat on the floral-patterned couch, their postures stiff and uncomfortable. Petunia clutched a cream-colored envelope in her thin hands and her knuckles turning white from the tension. Vernon's bulky frame seemed to take up even more space than usual with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Good morning," Lucas greeted calmly. He padded into the living room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps. Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the room and highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air.

Petunia's gaze darted to Lucas, her lips pursed into a thin line. "Your letter from..." she paused, her face twisting as if the words left a bitter taste in her mouth, "Hogwarts has arrived." She held out the envelope, while her arm was stiff and her fingers trembling slightly.

Lucas took the envelope, the heavy parchment rough against his fingertips. He glanced at Petunia and Vernon, their surface thoughts confirming his suspicions about the letter's contents. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he turned the envelope over in his hands, examining the emerald green ink that glittered in the sunlight.

Vernon cleared his throat with a sound that was harsh and grating. "Why can't you just decline Hogwarts?" he asked hesitantly. "You've already finished university and you're doing well for yourself. You don't need this..." he waved his hand dismissively with a reddening face, "freaky magic stuff."

Lucas suppressed a sigh and sank into the armchair across from them, the leather cool and smooth against his skin. He crossed his legs as his fingers tapped lightly against the armrest. "I need to learn to control my magic," he explained patiently. "If I don't go to a place like Hogwarts, who knows what could happen? My magic could spiral out of control without proper training."

Petunia and Vernon exchanged a look, worry etched into the lines of their faces. Petunia's hands twisted in her lap, her wedding ring catching the light and throwing tiny rainbows across the room. Vernon's jaw clenched as a vein throbbed in his temple.

The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece. Lucas used the pause to open the envelope with the parchment rustling softly as he pulled out the first page. The Hogwarts crest stood out in bold relief at the top of the letter, the four houses represented by their animal symbols.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Lucas set the letter down on the coffee table, the paper rustling softly. "I have to go," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he met Petunia's gaze. "It's the only way to ensure my magic doesn't become a danger to myself or others."

Petunia's eyes glistened with unshed tears as her lower lip trembled. "But what about your life here?" she asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper. "Your studies, your investments..."

Lucas shook his head, a few strands of his black hair falling into his eyes. "I've already arranged everything," he assured her gently. "This is something I need to do for myself."

Vernon's face had turned an alarming shade of purple with his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. "I don't like it," he ground out through gritted teeth. "But I suppose if you have to go, you have to go."

A 'genuine' smile spread across Lucas's face. "Thank you for understanding," he said softly. "I know this isn't easy for either of you."

Petunia sniffed, blinking back her tears. "Just be careful," she pleaded as her voice cracked. "And write to us, let us know how you're doing."

Lucas rose from the armchair and crossed the room as he placed a comforting hand on Petunia's shoulder. "I will," he promised, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'll be fine, don't worry."

He picked up the letter once more, scanning the list of required supplies. His brow furrowed as he reached the end of the list, a realization striking him. "I'll need to visit London," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "It seems they forgot that we don't have an owl here to send an acceptance letter back. I'll have to visit Diagon Alley and purchase one." He glanced at Petunia and Vernon, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I'd appreciate it if one of you came with me. The bodyguards will be alarmed if they suddenly can't find me anywhere."

Petunia nodded, her face still pale but a glimmer of acceptance in her eyes. Vernon grunted, his posture relaxing slightly.

As the conversation lulled, Lucas's thoughts turned inward. I'd prefer if I could catch whoever is trying to kill me before I go to Hogwarts, but sadly it all depends on them making a move first…