He came like an oncoming storm (Book 1 of the Stigma of the Wind series)

Chapter 5: "Victory of Life"

Harry stood high above the cliff island. The towers of the Cathedral far beneath him, the low hanging clouds – which he had torn apart, so that the sun would shine through – were around him. Under his feet was nothing but air. Up here nothing separated him from the endless skies above. Four years had passed faster than he could have imagined, with the constant training in elemental control, lessons in decorum and politics, combat exercise and learning wandless magic.

Blue eyes scanned the horizon, pushing newly forming clouds out of his line of sight. It was almost time now. Because today was the day...

He felt the west wind tug at his pyjama shirt. While only semi-sentient, the west wind had taken a fast liking to Harry. While the wind could not talk (not surprising) he could understand Harry (very surprising) and more often than not had helped to dry laundry or to clean the garden of the monastery from fallen leaves.

Another wind, this one coming from the north, asked for Harry's attention, as he apparently had news for him. This of course caused the west wind to pout (if you cannot imagine that, just think of the blast of hot air that comes at you if you open a hot oven too fast) and poke at the north wind. The north wind jabbed back, completely forgetting what he wanted Harry's attention for. As the two directional winds were brawling with each other, the east wind carried a traumatized looking owl towards Harry.

It was one of the Hogwarts school owls, which Harry had been expecting since dawn. Suddenly suspicious of the owl's condition he turned to the east wind. "Did you and the north wind argue about who gets to carry the owl?" narrowing his eyes at the east wind, which was weird since he could not see the wind.

The owl bobbed down and up again, so the east wind had probably did the wind equivalent of the human "shoulder shrug of uncaringness". Sighing Harry took the still catatonic owl into his arms and started to return to the ground. Easily jumping from one wind to the next, letting himself glide a bit and finally touching the roof or the cathedral with his bare feet. He had gotten up before dawn to look for the owl and it was now half past eight, meaning it was the perfect time for breakfast.

Releasing the owl with a gentle breeze, Harry watched her fly away, before looking at the letter in his hand. "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus" he read aloud. What the hell?

"Master Harry's be's coming? Breakfast is ready." Informed a slightly excited looking house elf.

"Of course, I'll be right there." Jumping from the roof – of course cushioning his fall with wind – he landed on one of the Flying Buttresses, slid downwards to jump onto a lower arch, ran upwards again and did a somersault through a window whose glass had been removed for this very purpose.

Letting the wind carry his light frame (no matter how much Salazar tried to make him gain weight) he fell right into the comfortable leather vintage armchair that he had claimed as his own on the breakfast table. Grinning, still pumped up with adrenalin from his stunt, he greeted both of his adoptive fathers with a euphoric: "Good Morning! Isn't today a simply wonderful day?"

Godric, who was a notorious morning person, grinned as well: "Why yes Harry, today is a perfect day, at least in my opinion."

"What has you in such a good mood?"

"I got a full night's sleep without any nightmares and was awoken by the sun shining through my window this morning. What about you?"

While Harry was happy that his father's nightly terrors had stopped, he could not suppress an internal groan. For a moment he had hoped that both of his chosen parent's would have finally gotten their act together, it had been almost four years after all. Still he put on a bright and happy mask, which was not very hard to do since his mood –while a bit dampened – was still spectacular.