A few days after his arrival home, Harry had spent enough time with his family, to once again want to be alone. He thus decided to go to his special clearing in the forest.

It was one of those winter days before Christmas that were unfortunately without snow, but thankfully without rain. If possible Harry passed even fewer people than usual cycling on the dirt road that he always used to reach his secret place. It seemed that people were enjoying the good weather to go to town and walk around the Christmas markets, rather than trekking through the countryside.

With him, he was only bringing a can of tea and three books, including his new book on the Light Arts. Oddly enough, even though developing his fighting ability and magic sense was much more gruelling than what he'd done last year, they were much more relaxing. While he had felt guilty and stressed whenever he'd stopped working on the spell, due to his ability to do so pretty much anywhere, this year's challenges had a more spatial context.

He couldn't train either of the skills without being at Hogwarts, which meant he could relax when he wasn't there. He would try to steal the hat again the next summer vacation, considering that his Occlumency training was far from done.

While Chanithachuah had told him that his skill had reached an acceptable level, the fact that the hat itself could still break into his mind, invalidated that statement so he wasn't quite done with it yet.

Harry arrived at the clearing and got off the bike. He looked at the obviously magical apple tree that dominated the space and wondered if the obliviators would ever have an issue due to muggles discovering the always fruit-bearing grief tree and its immortal field of flowers.

The apples attracted his gaze seductively fully red and ripened, just like they had been for years now. In a way, he was more willing to try one now. Perhaps he felt emboldened by the new bezoar necklace he'd made himself, which hung safely tucked away on his collarbone under several layers of clothing which protected him from the cold.

There was one difference, however, in the apple tree, since the last time he'd seen it. Or rather one could say that he had a new way of perceiving it. After all, this was the year that he'd started figuring out the ability to sense magic and while he had been making minimal progress, it was somewhat impossible to miss the supernova that the tree and its meadow represented against a magic-less backdrop. Going up to the tree Harry took off one of his gloves to put his bare hand against the smooth bark which felt warm to the touch. Closing his eyes and focusing his senses he was able to feel the small nexus of power present in the roots of the tree, which spread out to the rest of its body and to the meadow, but in lower quantities and concentrations. The only exceptions were the apples, which were all bursting with energy, and a broad dome that expanded over the tree's crown and enveloped the clearing. Not that Harry became immediately aware of that; his range still wasn't that good. No, he'd spent around thirty minutes walking around the clearing and testing the boundaries of the invisible dome. Unfortunately, Harry was not yet at the point where he was able to distinguish very well the different nuances of magic.

He could only tell if something had less or more of it.

Harry was actually very interested in the roots of the tree. After all, according to the knowledge he'd gained reading the book on magical foci, the roots would probably make very good wood for a wand. The issue was of course that while the tree was obviously Apple, this was just the outer appearance of its genus. The reality of it was probably much more complex considering the magical nature of the thing. Actually, in a way, considering the tree was magical, wouldn't it make for a much better core? He wondered. All the trees used for wands were seemingly more symbolic rather than magical, from his understanding, and they served more as a stabiliser for the magical core, which delivered the actual amplification and such.

Idly scratching at his chin Harry considered one of the apples hanging at eye level more closely. For all intents and purposes, it was the perfect fruit. Juicy, heavy, ripe. Would the fruit be a better core? Also, only magical creatures seemed to traditionally serve as cores, he hadn't read anything about anyone using a plant. Considering how a lot of magical plants were basically sentient, more sentient than some of the things which were used as cores for wands, that was a bit odd.

Maybe he could visit Ollivander in the summer? Ask him about why magical cores were more animal than plant? The answer would probably be along the lines of similarity between user and core. After all, people in general found it much easier to identify themselves with animals rather than plants. Considering how much Stavenot had stressed in his book that wand-making was a family art passed down and guarded jealously, he likely wouldn't get an answer either. But, if he could maybe bring a cutting of the tree, the man might be interested enough to say something.

In a way, the question was also if this tree that Harry had grown with his accidental magic all these years ago was unique or not. It was very unlikely that Harry was the first person whose grief at the loss of loved ones had spawned some sort of plant-based accidental magic. Perhaps it was time to research the magical significance of apple trees appearing on graves?

He eventually decided to leave the tree be. He wasn't willing to experiment with it right now, let alone eat one of the apples. Any possible knowledge about the phenomena was to be found, if anywhere, at Hogwarts. Perhaps he'd been subconsciously avoiding the exploration of the thing that he'd created because of the fact that he'd been trying to forget the past. But, his mood had been on the rise these past months. Having clear goals helped. The tree had waited several years, it could wait a bit more.

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Harry sat down and started practising magic. He didn't bother going to the cave, because, for some odd reason, he felt safe here. Safe from people finding him. Perhaps the dome was a sort of ward that protected this clearing. Obviously only speculation, but that was his impression.

He waved his arms in circles and created, rather than the usual ball of fire, a wave of heat, which he directed at the ground in front of which he was sitting. The air vibrated in place from where he was pointing his hand and he smiled when he noticed that he had managed to create a heat that didn't immediately kill the plants. Applying another wandless warming charm to himself he scooched forward, leaned his back against the tree and cracked open the book on light magic.

He read the first chapter, which mostly dealt with the emotions necessary to use the sort of magic and which discussed the fact that the Light Arts did not have any attack spells. It was different from the light magic sometimes depicted in games or movies, which involved throwing spears of heavenly light which pierced demons to the ground and destroyed their insides. In this magic system, light magic was fuelled by positive emotions like happiness and love. Since it was hard to infuse a spell meant to break someone's leg with love, or happiness, then there were de facto no leg-breaking spells available.

In fact, for all the hype that the author, a certain Leyli Lighter, tried to create about the magic, the entire thing barely managed to accumulate five spells. Harry knew for a fact that there were thousands of dark spells out there, and perhaps it was something to be said about the fact that the light arts were such a deserted field, whereas there were ten different dark spells and curses just to boil different parts of someone's body.

He knew this because he'd taken a short glance at some books, which he maybe shouldn't have had access to.

While the patronus was pragmatically the thing that Harry needed to work on the most. He couldn't use his wand right now. That's why he started reading something else. In the context of his recent effort to become a better fighter, he thus looked at the two shields elaborated on. One, protegens amores, was a spell fuelled by a feeling of love, which counter-acted most dark spells. As an anti-thesis, it required less energy to do so than the standard protego. However, there was one big downside to the spell, which made Harry deadpan.

It didn't work against neutrally aligned attacks, so while it would block a flesh-rending curse, it wouldn't protect the user from a simple knock-back jinx.

Maybe Harry was uneducated, and there was a particular situation where this would be useful, but quite frankly, he didn't see it. The next spell wasn't much better, perennem amorem, was a shield that could be applied to an object, which would then be resistant to dark magic. It went more into the direction of enchantment, said the author, but it could still be used in "the throes of passionate battle," to protect one's animated transfigurations from a dark wizard's attempts to blow them to pieces unless he just used a normal explosion spell, then it was useless.

The biggest issue Harry saw was that using light spells in a fight would require the caster to be able to bring up the associated emotions… While a dark wizard could probably summon the requisite amount of hate quite easily.

Connecting to love while fighting seemed like a challenge.

Thankfully that was the end of the so-called, "battle magic," section and the next spell that Harry perused the chapter of seemed actually useful. Regeneracio was a spell fuelled by love which led the body it was cast on to heal from wounds faster, essentially supporting the capacities of the entire organism. The only caveat was that it couldn't be cast on one's self.

It was still more useful than the next spell, motus, which put the target into a state of child-like excitement and wonder. From the description, it also sounded like it granted a minor form of ADHD.

Quite frankly, Harry found the book to be a bit of a disappointment. The four spells other than the patronus all seemed heavily situational, although, to be fair, the patronus was heavily situational as well. The book offered some good advice on how to grow one's capacity to feel and experience love and happiness and such, but still, he'd come in with very specific expectations on powerful or epic magic.

Of course, it was always fun to peruse a magical tome, no matter the subject. This was proven by the fact that he'd sat still for three hours reading the thing and absorbing the information within it. At least the book had provided very specific guidance on the patronus, although it did not include the variety that could send messages. Deciding that now was as good a time as any, even if he didn't have a wand Harry closed his eyes and followed the instructions on how to create the necessary feeling of happiness. This was the part of the work that the book had excelled in. If he had used the instruction that Lupin had given Harry in the original books, then the attempt likely would have taken much longer.

One didn't need the happy memory to fuel the patronus. That was a common misconception. One needed the happy memory to feel happy, which would then fuel the patronus. In essence, bringing up the happy memory was only a tool, the happiness it produced being what one needed. This was an important distinction to make because one didn't necessarily need a memory to be happy. Thus Lighter proposed in his book to test out different thinking patterns that produced happiness for the person trying to learn the spell and to practise them before even attempting to cast it. Then once they'd nailed down a method, he suggested they learn how to cast the spell in stressful environments that didn't tend to produce joy.

A big part of light magic was learning how to bring forth the emotions necessary to fuel it, in situations when one wasn't prone to doing so.

For Harry, the thing that had always brought him happiness was an appreciation of his relationships with other people. In a way, one could say that his happiness was derived from love. The fact that there were people there who would drop whatever they were doing to help him if need be, and for whom he would do the same, delighted him and kept him going through hard times. It was a remembrance of these bonds thus that he used to bring up the deep-seated contentment, or rather, happiness inside of him. He dwelled on the feeling for a bit, before raising his hand and looking at his palm. He infused the magic he was about to cast with the emotion he was feeling and let the spirit guardian trapped inside his soul run its course. A faint white mist spread out from his hand, accumulatively perhaps the size of a nectarine. Nonetheless, Harry smiled. He was on the right path.