Ch50- Phoenix Feather Quill

Ch50- Phoenix Feather Quill

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The next morning, Harry woke up feeling a bit restless. His dreams had been anything but peaceful, filled with shadowy figures and echoing whispers. Shaking off the tiredness after freshening up, he reached for his Phoenix Feather Quill, his mind already buzzing with curiosity about its unique abilities.

The quill, with its vibrant, shimmering feather, seemed to pulse gently with magical energy. Harry was eager to test its capabilities. He took out a piece of parchment, his fingers lightly gripping the quill. With a thought, he wrote his name, watching in fascination as the ink turned invisible upon his command. Intrigued, Harry took another parchment and repeated the process, this time willing one name to remain visible while the other vanished.CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m

Harry held the parchments up, examining them closely. The ink obeyed his will perfectly, one name clearly visible while the other had disappeared as if it had never been written. "Incredible," he murmured, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.

An idea struck him, and he began to write a note to his Aunt Petunia. "Good morning, Aunty. How was your sleep? I hope you had an amazing sleep." As he penned the next part, he focused intently, wanting the words to be visible only to him, "I love you." The words were a simple expression of the newfound bond they shared, a bond that had grown stronger in the absence of Vernon and Dudley.

Harry folded the paper neatly, his mind contemplating the quill's potential. He could use it for secure communication, to keep his private thoughts, or even as a tool in his magical training. The possibilities were endless.

Descending the stairs to the kitchen, Harry found Aunt Petunia preparing breakfast. The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, a pleasant change from the days of neglect and indifference.

"Good morning, Aunty," Harry greeted cheerfully, handing her the note. He watched closely as she unfolded it, his eyes on the ink, wondering if it would obey his will and vanish from her sight.

Petunia's eyes skimmed the note, a smile forming as she read the visible part. However, her expression didn't change as she passed over the invisible message. The ink had indeed obeyed Harry's command, remaining unseen to her.

"Morning, Harry. I slept well, thank you. And you?" Petunia asked, her tone warmer than Harry had ever heard before.

She wasn't surprised by the note; she assumed Harry was trying to write with quills now that he was going to Hogwarts. She remembered Lily doing the same when she first got her quill. A fond memory blossomed on her face with a smile, followed by a somber, wry expression. She wished she had spent more time with her sister and not gotten lost in jealousy. She sighed and patted Harry's head. "Your handwriting is beautiful, although you are new to quills." Harry smiled, "Thank you, Aunty," and then walked back to his room. Petunia's misunderstanding of the situation wasn't something he was about to correct.

As Harry sat back down, he contemplated his next steps. The quill's ability to hide and reveal information based on specific conditions opened up a realm of strategic uses, especially considering the secretive nature of his magical journey.

Harry then walked to the corner of the room, where Hedwig was perched gracefully. From the moment they had met, Harry had a profound respect for Hedwig's majestic nature. Refusing to cage her, he had let her free, trusting in her intelligence and loyalty. Hedwig, in turn, had shown remarkable understanding and had not caused any trouble.

As he gently stroked Hedwig, Harry inquired, "Can you take my letter to Hogwarts?" The owl puffed her chest proudly, a gesture that spoke volumes of her readiness.

"Nigel, how do owls know where to go?" Harry asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

In his mind, Nigel's voice echoed, "Magical owls follow intent and traces of magic in the air. But their abilities have limits. If a person wishes not to be found, these owls cannot locate them. It's a fascinating proof of the power of intent in our world."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. Otherwise, people could easily track down criminals or others who wish to remain hidden by sending owls."

"Indeed, Master Harry," Nigel responded. "It's also the reason you were shielded from the deluge of fan letters after your famous survival."

Harry grimaced at the thought. "That's a relief," he muttered.

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