Work Text:
Hrothbert of Bainbridge thought he knew what magic was.
Magic was a part of him, something he was born with. He had always had an intuitive understanding of magic, so it should have come as no surprise how powerful he ended up being. Even incorporeal, Hrothbert was at ease in the world and manipulation of magic. Living for centuries allowed him to spend even more time researching, theorizing, and discovering the truths of magic.
Despite no longer having access to the power that he had had, Hrothbert was still valued and respected for his experience and expertise with magic. He knew more about magic, than anyone still alive. It was his field, his life’s work. Magic was what brought him prestige, allowed him to bring his wife back, and even though it also damned him in the end, magic was what defined him.
Thus it was something of a shock to meet the latest of the Morningways. The Morningways as a family had always placed a high personal value on power and knowledge. Harry was different, an anomaly. He never seemed to care much about power or prestige. Instead he put value on other things, personal attachments and the little joys in life among them. Even as a child, he believed that being true to himself and his ideals was more important than any power he could gain. Made cynical by experience, Hrothbert believed that it was just childhood idealism, something soon out grown and forgotten.
Years passed however, and throughout experiences and hardships, Harry remained as idealistic and selfless as he was as a child. Until Hrothbert was forced to redefine his definition of magic. It wasn’t superior knowledge or prestige, not the power to manipulate the universe as he saw fit. It wasn’t the respect and awe of others, or the joy of discovery.
No Bob decided, true magic was the love shining for all to see in Harry’s eyes every time they met his.