Harry was a little disappointed in magic, but maybe because it was easy to learn. Hearing about and witnessing magic was always a novel experience, knowing people could bend the laws of reality Magnus had taught him. Well, taught may be too weak of a word. How is it possible to describe the feeling of thoughts and memories entering a person’s head, along with understanding?

It was something else, being ignorant of math before learning multiplication in a single hour, and then most of grade school in a few days. To be unknowing of concepts that should have taken years to learn and then know them in a few passing moments. He learned of magic in a similar way, being told exactly what to do with every movement being shown in complete accuracy. Whenever a movement was shown or a concept taught, it was so simple to Harry that it felt as if he could have done it any time, even though he knew that it would have been impossible a second ago.

In more ways than one Magnus was a better teacher than Lily, being able to show Harry exactly which words to utter and which movements to make. Sometimes it was as if they were one person, but Harry knew better.

Lily taught him from Hogwarts books at the beginning, but as they both discovered, it was pointless. Whenever Lily explained a simple concept Harry would ask for more elaboration, and whenever he saw her perform a spell he would try it himself. It dissolved into chaos, with Harry learning things with ease that would cause wizards in their final year to bite their nails. Meanwhile, he struggled with basic spells and ideas that a first year would understand with ease.

It was difficult to explain, but to Harry learning magic was no more difficult than learning another language. An interesting language sure, but just another language nonetheless. To wizards it was the only language, natural to them as breathing. To Harry it was a second, but one he knew well. Many elements of it bored him, while more surprised him.

At its core magic was a set of laws similar to the muggle laws of physics, it was just that only wizards can interact with them. But then, most wizards would be equally mystified when muggles utilized what most of them would call muggle magic. All wizards have inherent magic to a different degree, a connection to the greater magical forces of reality. For some, it was weak, like a single string of silk that tied a spider to a tree. For others, it was a chain of iron that could bind a warship to a dock. For Harry, it was as if he was the force of magic itself, able to bend the world to his will.

Magic, as he found out, was not the spells, or wands. But rather, the power and focus. With power anyone could influence the world, just not in the way they intend most of the time. Just as the ability to light a fire, magic would be useful in some instances but the results of performing magic could be catastrophic when misused.

Focus was key, it was the words that made the spells and the power of the wands. The ability to channel magic to a wizard’s wishes instead of dumping it into the air aimlessly. It was the reason why the words of a spell seemed so foreign yet familiar. They were meant to invoke a thought, an instruction for the magic to follow, and the results were consistent.

Understanding magic at the rate he was, Harry did not take long to learn. The year passed by quicker than Harry could have thought possible, each day filled with books, charms, and other spells. Whenever Lily was not home he would read, and whenever she was he would practice. By the end of it, he could use most spells with ease, spells that would have stumped students late into their school years. But then, there was that one charm that troubled him the most.