Henry Francis Warwick Augustus POV
"The Mending Charm is quite effective at repairing most materials," his mother said, looking at him, as he peered at her with all of his attention.
She smiled, seeing his shimmering, bright brown eyes looking at her, and continued, "However, damage caused by powerful curses is a lot harder to mend."
"The charm should only be used on inanimate objects, and it is never to be used on living beings," she said, warning him.
Henry nodded along, already having known the background of the spell from the Book of Spells, by Miranda Goshawk, which he read in preparation to learn this spell. He even knew the charm was invented by Orabella Nuttley, an employee of the Improper Use of Magic Office in the British Ministry of Magic, around the 1700's.
Apparently, she used it to repair a colosseum.
He also knew that in the 1920s, it was used on a large scale by the aurors in New York, in the aftermath of the obscurial.
"Now, the damage done to this mansion is in no way magical in nature, so a simple reparo should be able to fix a lot of the things in here," she said, looking around the living room where they were currently standing.
"The thing that concerns me is the poor plumbing this house came with initially; even if we were to repair it back to its original condition, it still wouldn't fit our needs."
"The architecture is fine, but plumbing has changed a lot in the last hundred years," she added.
He nodded, indeed, Reparo couldn't 'fix' something that never existed in the first place; the mansion came with a outhouse and was built in a time when indoor bathrooms weren't common. They would need to install water pipes to bring in water; it would be annoying to have to conjure water every time you needed to wash your hands.
'Wait a moment, can't we use magic or runes or something else along those lines, and which would conjure the water with ambient magic or by taking the magic of the person turning on the runes?'
"Can we use magic?" he interrupted her.
"Magic?" she asked softly, confused at his interruption.
"Yeah, we could just use magic to conjure the water, and for other things like the toilet," he said, expanding on his thoughts. It seemed like an obvious idea, afterall they were magical beings.
Her eyes widened, "That's right! We are not living amidst the Muggles anymore, we don't need to be careful about not showing anything magical. We can make the house as magical as we want," she excitedly agreed, her face flushed.
She then moved towards him and scooped him up.
"Oh, you are so smart, my baby boy," she praised, kissing him all over his face.
She set him down and mumbled, "This changes everything."
"New plan, Henry. After I teach you the Reparo, I am going to dive back into my ancient runes book. I was thinking of calling some Muggle contractors to set up electricity, plumbing, heating, and cooling, but that's not necessary anymore," she finished excitedly.
"We will just use magic for everything!" she said, now jittery at the thought of having a completely magical house.
After thinking aloud some thoughts and plans for the new house, she turned back to him.
"Now, let's teach you Reparo, shall we?"
"Yes, please!" he bounced on the tip of his shoe.
"Are you sure you don't want me to teach out the structure behind the spell?" she questioned him.
A week ago, he had mentioned that he would like to help her repair their new home and had taken the opportunity to ask her if she could teach him the spell.
She had agreed, saying, "Sure, only if you promise me you won't try it outside of my supervision," and he had agreed to her condition. He wouldn't lie; he was startled at how easily she had agreed to teach him magic. He was honestly quite ready to beg, plead, and use his teary eyes if needed until she agreed.
He even planned to include Ella in his quest.
Sure, she might say no to one pair of teary pleading eyes, but could she say no to two pairs of eyes on the verge of tears looking at her simultaneously?
He doubted it.
However, he did wonder if it was because she had seen how adept he was at the magic when he used it around the house, or if she saw him as someone gifted, or if it was just in her nature to be so easygoing.
"Yes, I don't have a wand, so I don't need to learn the structure behind the spell, only the intent when you use it," he answered her question.
So for the next hour, they went around the house repairing things, and he stayed close to his mother while she explained the ins and outs of the spell. He expanded his magic outwards and covered her with it, so he could observe her better.
Occasionally, he also reached out through their magical connection, when she lowered her occlumency, to get a better idea about her intent and will when casting the spell.
This didn't always work, but he was slowly getting better at it, especially now that he had someone to practice with.
An hour later, they stopped because he still had dance lessons to attend today.
The whole family got together again that evening after his dad came back from work. His mum and dad worked on repairing the house while he stayed with Ella in the living room, keeping her company, playing with her, and trying to use Reparo on one of her broken toys.
This went on for another week, whenever his father came home from work, the whole family went to the mansion to work on it. Every day, they worked it for an hour or two before coming back home for dinner and heading to bed.
One day, as he was playing with Ella, she held her broken toy in her hand and looked at him.
"Henry, fix," she said, extending the toy towards him.
She said it with certainty, like she believed he could fix it as much as she knew the sun would rise tomorrow.
That's when he realized what he had been forgetting. He had been focused on the intent and will of the magic, and on his belief in magic, that somewhere along the way, he forgot to believe in himself.
That he forgot, there was another aspect of any successful magic – will, intent, imagination, and belief in magic, but there was also the wizard who was at the center of all these things.
He smiled at her and took the doll from her hand.
He looked down at the toy in his hand, and he invoked his magic. He focused on channeling his intent and will towards fixing the doll, and, finally, he believed he could fix the toy. He didn't look at magic clinically, like he had been doing.
He didn't study the intent behind the magic; instead, he simply believed that he could do it, and only then did he take that belief and shape it with his magic.
The belief that he could shape reality to his very will was a factor, and something structure magic took away. Something Hogwarts didn't teach, sure, the students learned about the will and intent of incantation and wand movement, and how important it was to magic, and they gradually learned how to do magic without those, just by using the intent and will behind the spells.
The one thing you couldn't be taught is the belief and realization that you can reshape the world to your desire with your magic. Actually, it was something structured learning like Hogwarts took away from you. It took away the wonder and left with you the idea that magic is regulated by words, by wand movements, and by law.
But that wasn't true; magic has no limitations, not truly.
Magic is might.
He brought himself out of his reflection, and focused on the toy, the torn dress stitched itself, and the legs that were falling apart joined together as if time itself had been reversed.
"Here you go, princess," he said, handing the now pristine toy back to her. He got a sweet smile and a thank-you in return as payment.
It was a good transaction.