Henry Francis Warwick Augustus POV
"I think I have a magical connection with my little sister," he finally said out loud what he had been thinking for many months now, ever since he met Ella.
It had started back on the day his sister was born. He had waited, seated in a chair in the family center outside the delivery room all while dangling his legs, thinking about how he would have a new family member.
He never had any siblings of his own in the other life, so he looked forward to meeting his little sister/brother greatly. As he had continued to think about what having a sibling would be like and how he really hoped it was a little girl rather than a boy, he heard a click. It didn't sound like any clicker he had heard before, or even like those light switches that made the clicking noise; rather, it sounded like the soft noise Legos made when the pieces really clicked into place.
He had looked around the waiting room, searching for the thing that made the noise. He roamed his eyes over the light pink walls of the waiting room, then the sofas and the chairs placed alongside those walls, some with coffee tables in front of them, and some without.
"Henry! Come quickly, the baby is here," he heard his father shout excitedly just as he was looking up at the ceiling, searching for anything that was out of place.
He looked towards the sound and found his father with just his head sticking out of the door of the room they were assigned. Apparently, he hadn't wanted to walk 2 extra steps to get out of the room fully, a sentiment he understood fully. He, too, wouldn't want to leave the new little life out of his sight.
After shouting at him, his father quickly went back into the room.
He jumped down from the chair he was sitting in and hurriedly chased after his father. He opened the door to the room to see his mother lying in bed as the nurses and the doctor scuttled around her.
"Mummy!" he called out, getting the attention of everyone in the room, including the doctors and nurses.
"Sweetheart, come here, meet your little sister."
"Little sister?" he said.
He quickly beelined to his mother and, with some effort, climbed onto the bed.
'Curse my midget self,' he thought, embarrassed that the doctors had just witnessed that.
All his thoughts had come to a halt as he looked at what his mother was holding in her arms.
'Ugly' had been first thought.
She had reddish-purple, wrinkled skin and was covered in a waxy white substance, with fine, thin hair around her face. Her eyes were puffy, and her head was kind of long.
He had heard about how babies look completely different when they are born, but seeing an hour-old baby had really put that into perspective.
The second thought he had as he looked at his little sister was.
'Uh oh, there is a ghost in the room.'
This thought might have had nothing to do with that baby he was looking at, but this was his second thought nonetheless.
It had started when he was sitting in the waiting room, but it had only gotten stronger and stronger ever since he came into the room. The reason he thought there was a ghost in the room was that he had felt something brush up against him, and now he had a feeling as if he was carrying a floating balloon, but instead of it being held in his hand, it was glued to his head.
The balloon was there, constantly hovering around him, and it was kind of freaky.
"Waahhhh," he heard his baby sister cry, and he was brought out of his thoughts, and all of this attention then went to her.
'My little sister, little sister…' he had repeated that in his mind a couple of times. Now, no longer thinking of the potential ghost, all his thoughts were on the little life in front of him.
"Whoa," he said out loud, as the idea of having a little sister of his own had finally kicked in.
The affection that accompanied the thought of his little sister was very foreign, as he had never had any siblings in his other life. He thought about what growing up with a little sister would be like, and whether they would explore magic together or she would look up to him.
What a novel thought that was, having a little sister of your own, someone who looked up to you.
The next couple of weeks hadn't tampered with the excitement of having his own little sister, even by a bit. Instead, as he spent more and more time with Ella, or Eleanor, he had come to love her even more if that was even possible.
By now, her skin had turned milky white, and she had shed her fine hair, which decorated her arms, legs, and face. The only thing left from her birth was the wrinkly skin around her feet and hands, and a little around the neck.
Around this time, the only thing he would complain about was the feeling of a balloon hovering around him attached to his head like a single hair sticking to your face. It was starting to get annoying by now, and one day he had decided to do something.
One morning, he had just finished his bows of gratitude and was still warm with the feeling of magic that surrounded him. He was now able to feel the magic inside of him and in his immediate surroundings.
He had come to associate magic with the feeling of warmth.
It had started feeling like this ever since he had done his first bow when he was five. After the first bow, he had felt warm. Back then, he had thought that it was from the sun shining in his face that sunny afternoon; it turned out it was magic being invoked.
He found this out because, when he had done the subsequent bows of gratitude outside in the foggy, rainy London weather, he still felt warm, as if the sun was warming him through the heavy clouds.
It took a couple of more days to link the warmth to magic. From then on, he had noticed the small amount of warmth every time he did magic, every time he levitated something, that small warmth would fill him and stay until he let go of the magic.
One thing he did notice was the sheer amount of magic involved in his bows of gratitude, and how warm they felt compared to the magic he used daily. The breakthrough he had after this greatly improved his levitation.
He no longer had to think/plea about doing the magic; instead, all he had to do was evoke that warmth, direct it to something, and will it to float. His casts became much smoother over time as he practiced daily and bowed each day.
He thought the reason for this was that he was skipping the step of making the plea he hypothesized about and having the magic manifest through his thoughts/imagination. Instead, he was skipping these steps, going straight to willing magic and shaping it with his intent.
Later on, he had tried to apply this with summoning magic or 'Accio', which unfortunately hadn't worked. He had attempted to do this by invoking his magic, which immediately warmed him up, and instead of thinking about levitating the toy, he had attempted to summon it to him from across the room. He had failed and chalked it up to not being familiar with summoning something. He had never consciously summoned something to him with magic, so he didn't have much belief that he could use magic to summon it.
It seemed like while talents/gifts/emotions did invoke magic, if you wanted to do it consciously, practice, will, and intent were required. With these thoughts in mind, he thought about what he wanted to do.
It was clear to him - he wanted the feeling of carrying a balloon stuck to him to go away. So it was that with this thought, every time after his morning bows of gratitude, he put this into practice.
He would think about how he wanted this feeling to go away, and he asked magic to make it happen.
"Go away!" he muttered, having just finished his morning bow of gratitude.
At first, nothing happened for a couple of days. However, when the feeling of the floating balloon became really annoying, one day, he gave it his all to suppress it.
The magic in his body, the warmth, had spread out and muted the feeling. From then on, the floating balloon hadn't bothered him.
He had forgotten about that feeling for weeks and spent his time going to school, playing with Ella, going to dance classes, and working on his homework.
The thought he was rid of that balloon....or so he thought.