Key Connection

Harry pulled his other non-magical texts to him. Might as well get this stuff done tonight, since Petunia would blow a fuse if she saw him doing stuff when he was supposed to be 'recovering'.

Harry was sucking his right thumb. That had taken a lot longer than he had expected. Apparently the number of books he had purchased had been pretty sizable, even if he hadn't time to read them all at the moment. The constant pricking of his thumb had gotten it pretty sore, and he decided to add new books at a slower pace in the future.

He setup the book next to his bed and waved his hands, turning off his desk lamp and the floor lamps in the corner of the room. After a few weeks Vernon had provided them so no one would 'suspect' anything if they came in. He and Harry had never connected the way Petunia had, but they had a strong "live and let Live" philosophy in play now. Vernon was simply uncomfortable with things like magic, so they spent time doing more usual things. Fishing, golfing, stuff like that.

His head leaned back into his pillow as he focused on the roof. Hedwig wanted easy access to the outside world, and Harry had an idea.

He focused his strongest cords into a spiral pattern, one similar to the pocket in his wallet and in his trunks and pouch. Each one had felt slightly different, but they had a common trait as well, the spiral tube.

Harry felt that the tube being bent inside out was how the bag was created. That would reverse the spin, allowing the strange feeling at the boundary. His current theory however, was a NON-reversed tube could be used for transport. He had already put his hand through the bag and felt around, and it didn't feel cold or airless. Just... odd. He brought his largest, thickest cable of cords out of him that he could and pierced the house with it, connecting the ceiling to the outside air. He then pulled dozens of thick ropes and spun them like green snakes in a tight spiral along the cable. As they connected with the outside air, he carefully released control of the spiral of ropes, while pulling back the main cable.

It felt STRANGE. As the cable retracted, the spiral of ropes tried to collapse into itself, pressing firmly into the ropes around it. As the last of his power pulled from the center of the tube the robes almost seemed to creak... and suddenly it was now a solid tube. No seams, no edges.

Oh crap.

Harry cautiously felt the inside of the tube. It didn't FEEL dangerous, but nether did his flame arm until he almost burned a house down. He pulled some thread from his storage and made it into a cloth duck, gently releasing it into his end of the tube.

It vanished.

Double crap.

Reaching through the tube, he felt for it... nope, gone. Somewhere there was probably now a duck made of white wool. Great.

Harry took a deep breath. Freaking out was not a good idea. He glanced back at the tube. Well, maybe it WAS a great idea, but he didn't want to get in trouble.

He created a second duck cloth, and this time tagged it with one of his threads. He had learned to do this to find toys that Dudley had lost often, and could trace the thin connection of his magic almost any distance... well, any distance they had tested so far.

The duck was gently lifted to the... and it was gone. Oh goodness, it was moving FAST.

Harry's eyebrows rose as he tracked the cloth duck being hurled like a bullet from a gun. The tube was NOT a good idea for owl transit, unless you wanted fast mail and a flat owl.

He frowned. Maybe if he slowed down things in the middle? He sent a single rope down the center of the tube, anchored it into the tube on both ends, then had it send out tiny threads all along its length. It looked like a green fuzzy pipe cleaner.

The third cloth duck was offered up as sacrifice... and it was slowly moving up. Harry grinned. Less threads would probably increase the speed. He cut the threads in half, watching the duck zip out the tube before pulling both threads so the ducks would come back.

The most recent one came back almost instantly. The other would... oh forget it. He cut the thread, leaving another cloth duck somewhere in the world. He didn't have TIME to wait that long. He tapped the inner rope of the tube, politely asking it to only allow owls to go through.

Disturbingly enough, he almost felt like it had nodded to him. Sheesh.

Hedwig was remarkably calm at this point. Well, after promising it was safe a few times and bribing her with bacon, she was calm. A few tests later confirmed it worked, although she explained it felt very odd, like having someone blow air up your tail feathers.

With that messed up mental image messing with him, Harry wrote a quick note to Hermione about possibly meeting up on the train to Hogwarts. He mentioned how he was sorting his books and stuff, and hoped she and her family had safely got home from their trip.

He wasn't sure how to address it until Hedwig nipped his ear. Under her direction, he wrote down her name and tied it to the owls leg, who took off through Harry's ceiling.

Sometimes magic makes life strange.

Harry relaxed and prepared to sort his internal library as well. He had only memorized his class texts, no reason to spoil all the fun stuff... but he needed to verify everything was stored correctly in his memory.

Harry stared. His purple library was a MESS. All kinds of knowledge was just piled all over. Information from Professor McGonagall was one huge pile, there was an absolutely MASSIVE pile of books and scrolls from Nagnok, piles from each store he had entered. He did pause when he saw a book about Hermione. He smiled slightly and created a green shelf in his library just for his friends. It vibrated with his magic, and he gently put his memories of her on the shelf, with lots of room for more. The smile fell a bit looking at the massive piles though. He HAD felt a bit overwhelmed when he had listened to all the information before, but Harry hadn't expected it to this extent. He lifted one of the books about the classes in Hogwarts. It should go both in the "Current" section AND in "Hogwarts". He sighed and pulled the book, creating a copy. This was going to take forever, since each book might have to be in multiple places.

Still, it would be worth the effort to recall the information easier. The automatic sorting of his library was limited per section after all. Family memories should not be sorted with cooking lessons. French children stories shouldn't be in the Geography section.

As he placed each memory into each shelf, he watched that section resort itself. He copied some things into common knowledge, although he had decided to create a new section for MAGICAL common knowledge. He felt that the conflicts between the two would be the perfect place to find new ideas and solve old problems for both sides.

He looked forward to adding books to the golden shelf especially. He had marked it the "Essential" section, and it contained the most critical information. His languages, his coordination at different heights, his ability to manipulate threads. Some of the most critical parts of who he was was on that shelf.

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