Spiritual Experience

Harry, after lying on the forest floor for half an hour slowly pushes himself up, twitching and trembling as his burns scrape against his ill-fitted clothes.

Those people had really just left him here like this... He shouldn't have been surprised at this point, but to see strangers abandon him after indirectly hurting him had angered him severely.

Stamping down his anger, he glances around and spots some bits and bobs the teens had discarded after leaving, presumably to distance themselves from what had happened. Small dolls made of stick, straw, and string, a backpack containing a board game of some sort, 'Ouiji Board'?... Lastly, he found a book, well, not exactly a book, a pamphlet tossed into a nearby bush called 'Real Rituals, Curses, and Hexes'.

He almost snorted, had his mind not been more focused on enduring the pulsing rounds of agony from his burns. Whatever, he'd take this from them as compensation.

He stuffs it all in the discarded bag and quickly makes his way home, throwing it in his cupboard before making his way upstairs to clean his burns... It wasn't the first time he'd done this, after all, when he was younger Aunt Petunia burned him whenever he burned their food...

He thought it made sense at the time of course, but now he knows she's just a bitch of a cow.

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Later that night Harry flips open the pamphlet and is mildly confused at the contents. It made itself out to be 'real rituals' that you could perform for actual effects. For instance, bathing in ice water during a solar eclipse would apparently allow you to find your soul mate the next day.

He reckoned it was all bullshit but, since he had magic, it was possible some of these would actually work. He reads through the rest of it and locates the easiest ritual, a curse that would cause someone terrible pain for a full week. It required the sacrifice of a living creature within a pentagram made of a mix of white lead-based paint and blood, surrounded by seven almost completely burned-out candles, and part of your victim.

Well, luckily for Harry he could acquire all of this with little difficulty. He'd have some local snakes hunt him a mouse or rat, steal candles from the house, and the paint from school. The blood he'd provide himself, as he doubted he'd acquire enough rats for the amount he needed.

Since he was currently locked in his cupboard though, he might'as well check the 'Ouiji Board' he'd stolen. The instructions were thankfully printed on the box, so he wasn't left completely in the dark about what to do with the planchette, the piece of wood implanted with a small magnified glass.

"So I just let my hand wander and spirits will speak to me...? This sounds, fake..." he grumbles but plays along regardless.

"Is anyone there?"

It isn't instant, but he feels something pulling the piece in a direction. He follows it, soon leaving the thing above "YES"

...

"What is your name?"

L

I

L

Y

"Lily...?" he mutters in mild confusion as goosebumps appear along his arms. It felt like he was doing something wrong, no, taboo. A niggling feeling at his nape. "Lily who?"

P

O

T

T

E

R

"P-Potter...? A-are you related to me?" he quickly asks and feels his mouth dry the next moment as the planchette moves.

M

U

M

"Mum..." his expression hardens, "The same drunk whore who died and left me here?" he questions.

YES

NO

YES

NO

The planchette itches between them, seeming almost erratic in its movements.

M

Y

F

A

U

L

T

YES

M

U

M

M

Y

L

O

V

E

S

Y

O

U

YES

Harry pins it to the board with a finger before it can do anything else, "I don't care if you love me, it doesn't matter anymore." he growls, "Tell me about magic."

W

I

Z

A

R

D

"Yes, tell me about them."

R

E

G

R

E

T

His brows knit at the non answer, "Say it straight, I don't care how you felt about it. Tell me how to use magic!"

W

A

N

D

YES

S

O

R

R

Y

YES

W

I

S

H

He stops it again and lets out a sigh, this was getting him nowhere. The fact he was apparently talking with his mother boggled his mind, but other than dislike, a tinge of longing, and his contempt for her, there was little else he wanted other than knowledge.

It wasn't like she could go back in time and not kill herself in a drunken car crash. She was dead, and he wasn't fanciful enough to believe that could be reversed, magic or not. Besides, he hadn't needed her before, and he certainly didn't need her now.

"I think I hate you..."

L

O

V

E

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A week later Harry found himself back in the forest clearing where he'd been burned, except this time the campfire had been cleared and replaced by a crudely drawn pentagram.

Panicked squeaks erupt from his pocket where he'd been holding a mouse captive. The snakes had been more than eager to serve, a strange addition to his ability to speak to them. He didn't know why they held 'Speakers' in such high regard, but he wasn't going to complain about it when it aided him.

"It's almost time..." he mutters, seeing the candles burned down to a quarter of their original size. He steps into the pentagram and retrieves his Uncle's comb covered in thinning hairs. He sets it down and retrieves a kitchen knife before pinning the mouth to the floor, it squeaks and tries to escape, biting his fingers, but he ignores it and lowers the blade.

"Come unseen masters, grant me your aid to strike out at my enemy, Nema!"

He pushes the knife into the writhing rodent's stomach, cutting into its intestines and causing blood to spew forth. He continues, pinning it to the floor with the blade and quickly tearing some hair from the comb before stuffing it into the mouse's stomach.

Harry feels energy drawn from the magic core in his stomach, enough so that his vision blurs slightly from oncoming vertigo, but he remains on his knees to wait it out. Just then, the flames atop the candles almost bubble, green pustule-like fires forming on them and quickly tripling in size.

He blinks as the entire pentagram goes up in green flames, it zips across with quick speed, burning a line under Harry's leg and burning him, causing him to jump and fall backwards out of it in surprise.

He looks up from the jagged burn on his leg and up at the ritual circle, which had burst into a giant pyre. It went high enough that Harry was worried it would start burning nearby trees... But just as it came, it soon vanished, leaving nothing but a scorched pentagram in the ground.

...

"Ah!" he grimaces, gripping the burn on his leg. It hurt way more than any other burn, presumably because of the magic involved.

Still, despite his near encounter, the magic had worked... Or did it? He hadn't read anything about it going up in flames.

He felt a grin unconsciously split his lips, this was his ticket. If practice achieved little to nothing, maybe he could make up for it with rituals. Fiction had no lack of evil wizards using rituals to empower themselves, why would he be any different?

Upon arriving outside his home, Harry could hear shouting from within the house. Thinking his ritual had actually worked, he slips in through the front door but pauses as he spots Vernon, who had his back to him.

The obese man had already been balding, but it seemed all of a sudden every hair on his head had fallen out...

He tries to stifle his laugh with a hand over his mouth, but fails as Vernon slowly turns around. "YOU. YOU DID THIS!" he bellows, charging at Harry and punching him right in the face, instantly breaking his nose and glasses.

Harry can see a kick headed his way, but by then he'd already lost consciousness from the first punch... The ritual hadn't worked as expected, and perhaps he shouldn't have done it to someone who'd beat him over misplacing his keys...

-----------------------

Vernon's hair never did come back, forcing him to use a rather badly-made wig, or beanie to hide his shame... Every moment of humiliation he experienced he took out on Harry, he had actually deserved his beating for once.

Unfortunately, the man's temper hadn't even started to cool... In fact, it was only getting worse with each day. The beatings becoming more vicious and potentially lethal... This left Harry with little options, since someone was forcing him to stay here, and his relatives would never change, he'd have to deal with them properly... But, this was also an opportunity.

Since his last attempt Harry had read all he could about rituals, everything in myth, legends, and some of the older pieces of fiction. Basically, from what he understood Rituals required a few things. A power source, souls, sacrifice, etc, intent, symbolism, a victim, and lastly a patron.

The last one was iffy to Harry but he'd include it if needed.

More research was required, but as much as he'd like to plan, he doubted Vernon would allow him to live longer than a month...

All that aside, something else he'd been looking into was the Ouji Board itself. He'd come to understand that Lily could only respond properly to things that were emotionally important to her.

While death had dulled her intelligence somewhat, he had learned a bunch of pertinent names. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Frank and Alice Longbottom, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort... The latter two drew a more subdued response, though when asked she changed subject to speak about some 'rat'.

Harry's drawn from his contemplation when heavy footsteps make their way downstairs, causing dust to fall down from the roof of his cupboard. "Get ready to start breakfast, boy! And if you burn a single thing we'll be testing your arm on the hob!" Vernon glowers through the cupboard door.

He doesn't match the glare, unwilling to as it'd only anger the man further. "Y-yes, Uncle."

He hated them. He hated them more than anything else in this world, and he wasn't sure he'd be satisfied even with them dead. They spurned him and his attempts to earn their love, and for that, they would die.

The man unlocks the door and stomps away, but not before leaving a parting "GET ON IT THEN, BRAT!"

"Yes, Uncle."