Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

Two days later, Harry sat cross-legged atop the Dark Tower, a small cage containing five mice placed carefully in front of him. He'd caught them earlier as an eagle, and while a small part of him felt bad about using them like this, he needed to understand how his mist had changed since receiving his Hun (Ethereal/Yang) and Po (Dense/Yin) souls.

The morning air was crisp, and the tower's height ensured no one would accidentally walk into his experiment. Harry took a deep breath and began to gather his magic for the mist, just as he'd done countless times before.

He stopped almost immediately, eyes flying open in surprise.

"That's different," he muttered, frowning slightly. The magic wasn't coming from inside him at all - he could feel it now, drawing in from the world around him like invisible streams flowing into his Po Soul.

Harry tilted his head, considering this discovery. He would've expected the magic to gather in his Hun Soul since it dealt with thoughts and fear. Maybe he didn't understand yin and yang as well as he thought. He'll have to ask Grandpa about books on the subject later.

That magic came from outside rather than from within was interesting, but Harry shrugged it off after a moment. It was probably just something they taught in Hogwarts that he hadn't learned yet from his daily reading.

"Let's try this again," he whispered, more carefully this time. He drew in the magical energy slowly, feeling it pool into his Po Soul. That's when things got fuzzy. His Hun Soul was instinctively doing... something. Contributing to the gathered energy somehow, making it heavier. It felt like his Hun Soul was adding a sort of tint or color to the magic, though not in any way he could see with his eyes.

The altered magic flowed out onto his palm, forming the familiar grey mist. Harry guided it towards one of the mice, watching closely for any differences from before. The mouse reacted just like they always did - trying to run away until it hit the cage wall, then freezing in place. He could see its tiny chest still moving up and down rapidly, so it was just paralyzed with fear rather than hurt.

Harry let the mist dissipate, scratching his chin thoughtfully. The effect seemed the same, but the process felt completely different now that he could sense where the magic came from and how it changed. He'd need to practice more to really understand what his Hun Soul was doing to the magic, but at least he knew his mist ability still worked properly.

Harry flopped onto his back, letting the morning sun warm his face as he stared up at the bright blue sky. A few puffy clouds drifted lazily overhead, and he found himself absently tracking their movement while his mind worked through what he'd just learned.

"Outside in, not inside out," he mumbled to himself, running a hand through his messy black hair. The magical energy came from somewhere out there, and he used his Po Soul to draw it in like drinking through a straw. That was pretty straightforward.

But what about other wizards? Harry frowned up at the sky. They probably used their whole souls to draw in magic since they didn't have separate Hun and Po Souls like he did now. The thought made him wonder if having split souls would make learning spells easier or harder.

An idea struck him. If magical energy came from outside, and spells were shaped inside the soul before being cast... couldn't he just do it manually? He already knew how to draw in magic thanks to his mist spell.

"Worth a try," Harry said, raising one hand toward the sky. He drew in magical energy with his Po Soul, feeling it pool there like water in a cup. But then what? With his mist spell, his Hun Soul did... something. He wasn't sure what exactly, since it happened automatically.

"Maybe if I..." Harry pointed his palm up at the clouds. "Incendio!"

Nothing happened. The magic just sat there in his Po Soul, waiting.

Harry remembered reading something about 'magical intent' in the library's first-year Charms books. He tried again, this time picturing bright flames shooting from his palm as he spoke. "Incendio!"

He felt his Hun Soul stir, reaching out toward his Po Soul like it was trying to grab something. But before anything could happen, the whole thing fell apart. The pooled magic burst out of him in a explosion of colorful sparks that made his skin tingle and his hair stand straight up. Several small rocks around him started floating and spinning in the air.

"Ow," Harry said, sitting up and trying to pat his hair back down. The tingling sensation refused to go away, and he had a feeling it would stick around for a while.

Well, that hadn't worked quite like he'd hoped. But at least he'd learned something - his Hun Soul definitely played a part in casting spells.

Harry brushed off his robes and stood up, determined. Just because his first try failed didn't mean he should give up. After all, his firebending had taken lots of practice too.

"One more try," he muttered, gathering magical energy into his Po Soul again. This time he tried to guide his Hun Soul more carefully, like drawing with a very delicate brush.

The magic responded differently this time - instead of exploding outward, it twisted inward like water going down a drain. The shadows around him stretched like taffy, reaching toward him from all directions. Harry yelped and stumbled backward, but the shadows snapped back to normal almost instantly. For several minutes afterward, he felt strangely inside-out, though looking down confirmed all his body parts were exactly where they should be.

"That was weird," Harry said, shaking his head. But he wasn't ready to quit yet. Maybe if he tried focusing more on the spell itself...

His third attempt went wrong in a completely new way. The magical energy disappeared with a gentle pop, and suddenly everything smelled wrong. The morning air that had smelled like grass now reminded him of chocolate. When he sniffed his robes, instead of clean laundry they smelled like oranges. Harry wrinkled his nose - it wasn't bad exactly, just... off.

"Come on," Harry said, getting frustrated. "One more time."

He gathered the magic again, trying to copy exactly what he'd read about the fire-making spell. This time the energy seemed to just fade away harmlessly. Harry was about to count that as progress when he blinked and felt something odd near his ears. Small, perfectly round soap bubbles were floating out of them.

Every time he blinked, more bubbles appeared. They didn't make any noise when they popped, and they didn't leave his ears wet, but it was really annoying. After about twenty bubbles, Harry decided enough was enough.

He sat back down, thinking about what he'd learned while waiting for the bubbles to stop. Each time he tried the spell, his Hun Soul had reached for his Po Soul like it was trying to grab or shape the magic there. But something kept going wrong at that exact moment, like two puzzle pieces that looked like they should fit but didn't quite line up.

"Maybe I should ask one of the professors about this," Harry said to himself, watching another bubble float past his nose. "Before I turn myself into a tea kettle or something worse."

The mice in their cage squeaked in what sounded like agreement and watched with fear shining in their little black eyes as Harry transformed into the golden eagle that captured them with his sharp talons. The change felt as natural as breathing - no complex magic or soul manipulation required. Just a simple choice, like deciding to take a step forward.

He stretched his wings, enjoying the familiar sensation. Being an eagle wasn't like putting on a costume or playing pretend. When he was an eagle, he was an eagle. The sharp eyesight, the instincts, even the way his mind processed things - it all just worked. Sometimes Harry wondered if he was fated to be both human and eagle.

The transformation hadn't changed at all since getting his Hun and Po souls, which was kind of strange when he thought about it. He couldn't feel either soul doing anything all that special when he changed forms. Not like with his mist or firebending where he could somewhat track what was happening.

But then again, maybe that made sense. The Animagus transformation wasn't really a spell – Aunt Min had explained that much during their talks about it. Once a witch or wizard completed the ritual, they just... could. Like how people just knew how to walk or talk without casting spells.

Harry spread his wings and took off from the tower, leaving the caged mice behind. He'd come back for them later. Right now he needed help before he accidentally turned his ears into teapots or something equally ridiculous.

The castle felt very empty as he soared past its windows. Most of the students were home for summer holidays, and even the professors were usually gone. Harry had gotten used to entertaining himself over the years, though having Grandpa around most of the time helped a lot. But today Dumbledore was at the Ministry, and Aunt Min was off doing whatever she did on her "catvacations" as she called them.

That left Uncle Filius, who hopefully was in his office today. Harry landed on the windowsill outside the Charms classroom, transformed back to human, and made his way to the familiar office door. He knocked three times, hoping his uncle could help him figure out what he was doing wrong with his spell attempts.

"Do come in, do come in!" Flitwick's high-pitched voice called out cheerfully.

Harry pushed open the heavy wooden door to find his uncle perched on his usual stack of books, grading what looked like summer assignments. The tiny professor's face lit up when he saw Harry.

"Oh my goodness! If it isn't my young fiery prodigy!" Flitwick squeaked excitedly, before his tiny nose twitched. "Dear me, what is that most peculiar aromatic combination? sniff sniff Oranges and chocolate wafting about? Most unusual indeed!"

"That's actually why I'm here," Harry said, climbing onto the chair across from the desk. "I was trying to learn the fire-making spell, but something went wrong. Several times."

"Oh?" Flitwick set down his quill, giving Harry his full attention. "And where exactly did you learn about this spell?"

"From the first-year textbooks in the library," Harry explained. "I understand the theory, but when I tried to do it myself..." He gestured at his ears, where another soap bubble chose that moment to float out.

Flitwick's usual cheerful demeanor shifted to something more serious. He hopped down from his high chair and walked around the desk, pulling out his wand.

"Now then, stay perfectly still for just a moment," he said, executing a precise little flourish with his wand. "There we are! Fascinating side effects, really... But Harry, whatever possessed you to attempt spellwork without the fundamental requirements of a wand and proper magical instruction?"

Harry squirmed in his chair. "Well, I can make the mist without a wand, so I thought maybe..."

"Oh gracious me, absolutely not! That's quite different indeed!" Flitwick squeaked. "That extraordinary misty manifestation of yours - some piece of innate magic, really - but proper spellwork requires precise magical channeling through a specifically attuned conduit! The theory is quite clear on this point!"

"Yes, but-"

"Tut tut, not another word!" Flitwick shook his head urgently, clearly very agitated. "There are centuries of magical theory behind why we wait until a witch or wizard turns eleven! Your magic simply isn't stable enough yet - oh yes, even with your remarkable mist-conjuring and fire spells! Your body isn't properly developed for structured spellcasting. Quite dangerous to attempt otherwise!"

Harry slumped in his chair. "I just thought I could try to do what I do with the mist, but make fire instead. I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

"I quite understand the academic enthusiasm!" Flitwick chirped, his voice softening. "Such curiosity and drive for magical knowledge - wonderful Ravenclaw traits, if I do say so! But even the brightest minds must exercise proper caution and patience." He hopped forward to pat Harry's knee with his tiny hand. "Now then, I must insist you promise not to attempt any more spells until you're properly prepared. Quite important, yes?"

"I promise," Harry said, though he couldn't quite keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Excellent!" Flitwick smiled, clambering back onto his chair. "Now then, do tell me what concepts you've managed to learn from those first-year texts! The practical applications must wait, of course, but oh, there's so much wonderful theory to explore in the meantime!"

Harry brightened a bit at that. At least he could still learn something, even if he couldn't try it himself yet.