“I dunno.” Harry shrugged. “I am not sure I would quite put it like that, but yes, if Voldemort does successfully obtain the Scrivenings, he shall eventually increase his abilities, and magical knowledge, considerably. “But then, Sirius had to always look like he didn’t care about what people thought of him, even, or rather, especially, in Hogwarts. “Oh. Harry did. While these help, they don’t actually produce the magic, they just help us bring it out.”
“And when I was doing accidental magic, it was because my subconscious, or whatever, knew how to bring out the magic without needing to use wands or words?” Harry asked. A second Death Eater appeared before Harry could so much as move, but he fell across the doorway, struck by a spell before he could reach cover. “Look, Shiakana, I can show you some of my memories that might prove the Muggles don’t know about us anymore, just, remember, not all Muggles are like the Dursleys.”
“Very well,” Shiakana hissed, her long body swaying in what could have been a nod of the head.
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