Harry Potter: The Witch of the Red

After performing a series of cleansing spells to freshen up, Ginny nestled into her bed and let the realms of Morpheus whisk her away.

When she awoke the next morning, a remarkable transformation had taken place. A surge of vibrant energy coursed through her veins, leaving her feeling invigorated in a way she had never experienced before.

As she opened her eyes, an incomparably clear world filtered through her lenses, more vivid and radiant than ever before. The colours seemed richer, brighter and more vibrant. Her surroundings became crystal clear, as though she had been granted a newfound level of perception. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a world that had previously been shrouded in a haze.

But most importantly, she could sense an omnipresent force around her, shifting and stirring, twisting and turning, that permeated anything and everything.

‘Magic.’ she realised, her surprise turning into wonderment. Immersing herself in her newfound perception, she let it expand, slowly spreading from her bed to the surrounding and eventually covering a large part of the dormitory, including both her sleeping roommates.

As she continued to sense, she could distinctly feel the concentration of magic around her roommates was significantly greater. The magic around them ebbed and flowed with their breathing.

Much like them, she herself could feel the Magic concentrating around herself, but in a vastly greater quantity and intertwined with her in a much more profound way. Mesmerised by this Magical Perception, she stayed immersed in it, feeling the enchanting flow of Magic in Hogwarts and let herself go. 

Slowly, she realised that the flow had a meaning, a pattern, the ebb and flow of magic took on a rhythmic quality, like a grand composition performed by an invisible orchestra. It sang of secrets and untold stories, its crescendos and diminuendos hinting at the secrets of Magic itself.

As she intently concentrated on the Magic, she realised the symphony was slowly changing, becoming more energetic, more active, almost as if… it was waking up-

“Morning, Ginny, haaah~” a groggy voice dragged her out of her dazed reverie. Startled, her head snapped towards the owner of the voice to find a sleepy Aileen rubbing her eyes and looking at her groggily. 

Gwen also woke up, the noise breaking her sleep. “Good Morning…” she said, barely stifling a yawn.

“A very good morning to the both of you too.” Ginny greeted back, somewhat inattentively, “I’ll go and wash up.”

-x-x-x-

She was still quite caught up in the strange new sense she had gained. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror she absentmindedly chanted spells that did the equivalent of brushing, cleaning and every other possible act of grooming. 

Even as she did so, her Magical sense felt every twitch and every surge of her magic directed by her incantations and wand, altering, shaping and directing it to achieve the spells’ effects. And it felt marvellous.

She was somewhat startled by the wide range of grooming spells she suddenly knew. 

‘Riddle, it seemed, was very keen on keeping himself fresh.’

The moment such a thought struck her, a very odd expression came over her face. Inadvertently, a strange scene popped up in her mind: Voldemort, with his noseless face reflected in the mirror grooming himself before pulling back and nodding at himself in the mirror, “Lookin’ good.”

The absurdity of such a scene caused a stifled giggle to escape her lips.

As she was making herself ready for her first day at Hogwarts, another part of her mind browsed Riddle’s memories, to find out if he had any idea about this newfound sense. 

Riddle, it seemed, also had a very similar sense, though it was also quite different. He was attuned to the presence of magic through physical sensations. He felt it as a tingling on his skin, a chill on the nape of his neck, a caress on his skin. 

The most terrifying part was the fact that he’d always had this sense. Ever since the first time he became aware of it, which was also when he had his first burst of accidental magic, he had capitalised on it. And as soon as he learnt what it was, he thought of a way to train it.

Suddenly Ginny was struck by thought, and a very problematic one, at that: Did Dumbledore also have this sense? Ginny's mind raced with concern as she contemplated the possibility of Dumbledore possessing a similar heightened perception of magic. If the Headmaster had the ability to perceive and analyse magic in such a way, he would undoubtedly sense the sudden surge of power and potential within Ginny. 

Anyone with half a brain, much less Albus frigging Dumbledore, would be able to tell you that a first-year student going from possessing above average Magic to having Magic stronger than the average adult Magical in a single night was not normal and that there was definitely something out of the ordinary happening here.

‘Assuming the worst, he can sense it and also has a wide range of sensing due to honing his skill over a long life means that he can most likely sense me. But no matter how overpowered he is, he can’t possibly sense one problematic source from nearly a thousand students.’ she calmed down as she rationalised. 

‘However, no matter what, I can’t be anywhere near him, when there aren’t at least a hundred people around.’

Then she searched through Riddle’s memories, looking for something similar. She didn’t believe for a second that the fella hadn’t undergone some sort of enhancement Ritual. As power hungry as he was, he would jump at the chance to increase his prowess as much as possible, no matter the means. And most likely, through his school years, he had come across such Rituals. Thus, he’d definitely need a way to hide it from Dumbledore.

Sure enough, a few seconds later she had discovered a way. And a very simple one too. That was to rein in her magic. It turned out that the higher concentration of magic surrounding a magical being was, in fact, the result of their magic seeping into the ambient magic (she didn't have a better term for it) and intermingling with it. So by simply controlling their Magic and pulling it back into oneself, a wizard could effectively show whatever level of magic they wanted the world to see.

And to harness and control one's magic, it is crucial to first possess the ability to perceive it. By the time most magical individuals reach adulthood, they have developed a rudimentary sense of their magic. Ginny, due to being an absolutely normal Muggle in her previous life coupled with her Magical Perception, was almost instantly able to get a handle of it. 

With intense concentration, she focussed her mind, trying to ‘pull’ her Magic back into herself. Almost immediately, she felt a sense of resistance, almost like trying to lift her leg sideways - it wasn’t impossible but she was definitely not flexible enough, yet.

After trying a few more times, she finally got the right feeling. She sensed her Magic unravelling itself from the Ambient Magic and slowly being pulled back into her body, bit by bit. She tried a few more times, letting it go before pulling it back. 

Soon enough, she got the hang of it.

It was just that she felt incredibly uncomfortable. It was like wearing a straitjacket all the time, restricting her movements and freedom.

Plus, she realised that her newly gained sense was dampened immensely. It felt like she had put on some low quality earplugs - not only did it not block out the sounds fully, but also muffled and distorted whatever she did hear into an indecipherable mess. In short, it sucked.

She could only bear with it, however, the fanfics she’d read completely subverted her image of Dumbledore from a somewhat eccentric and grandfatherly old man who also happened to be a formidable wizard but ultimately a good person, to some twisted, paranoid old goat, with too much power in his hands and would do absolutely anything for his notion of the ‘Greater Good’. And let’s not even talk about Dark Lord Dumbledore fics.

‘Just be safe, I won’t go to the Great Hall for the next few days, until I get a handle on this. I’ll get my food from the kitchen.’ she decided as she finished fastening the last button of her shirt.