He held his right hand out. Nearly instantly a dozen threads thickened along the thousands of thin green hairs that lived in his body. Now that he could see down to such fine detail, he didn't have to keep creating NEW threads, just empower some existing ones. As they moved from the pattern, the existing ones would simply split and rebuild. Much faster and easier than creating new ones from scratch.
It was much harder having the threads LEAVE his hand though. Finally he stopped trying to force it and started building up the thickness of a single thread. Eventually it built up to near rope size, and he was feeling a warning of strong heat in his arm. He frowned in concentration as he moved the rope around, feeling small changes occur in the thread network of his arm. Where the rope touched he almost felt a pain as the light was stretched and expanded. Still, when he moved the rope back it felt much less sore.
He gave a small smile. Clearly he needed to increase the size of the threads before he could do the things in his head. It seemed that repeated use was a great way of accomplishing this as well. Looking to his left arm he picked a thread and increased it to rope size as well.
A sharp pain went through his arm. He had not used this arm nearly as much as his right one, and he could feel it. Still, pain was something he could understand. He allowed both arms to be filled with ropes of light, pushing and stretching the connections. Looking down at his legs, Harry was slightly started at how long they were. His new size would take time to adjust for. Still, If he was going to do this correctly, why not the legs as well? Finding one of the larger threads in each leg, he swelled them both to rope size at the same time.
His head smacked back into the mattress as he grit his teeth. It felt like he had cramps in both legs, in several places. Harry felt like his muscles were BURNING. He really should have built up to this, as he could feel muscles tearing and rebuilding rapidly in both legs. At least the pain was rapidly being replaced with warmth.
Grimacing through the stinging pain, he continued working the threads. When night really fell, he would move.
Vernon Dursley felt off all day. Something was different in the house. It felt like something was missing, something was changed. Like having an air conditioner switch off suddenly after you already got used to it. He felt like he was reaching for something he didn't want to find, and it felt so good that it was not there. The floor seemed brighter, the walls cleaner. He didn't feel as pressured, or stressed.
It felt so nice he was waiting anxiously for the next shoe to drop.
Petunia was nearly singing. Normally no matter how often she swept, mopped, dusted, everything felt filthy. There always seemed to be some smell she couldn't find, some noise caused by something skittering on the floor, and the feeling of being watched, always watched.
Her world seemed to have more color. Smells seemed brighter. It was like someone had finally pulled back the curtains. Her face, normally pinched in a scowl of disgust at all the tiny imperfections, had relaxed almost completely for the first time in years. She might even have some time to make some food again! How long had she been overworked, trying to bring some cleanliness to this wretched house? She almost skipped as she began moving things in the kitchen.
Harry could not do much but grit his teeth right now. His limbs were on fire, and his joints were becoming more sore by the moment. Pain mattered little though, he had something to prove to himself, to his parents. He would not let a momentary pain keep him weak.
His eyes were casting green shadows on the walls. Not able to move his neck, he began to examine his room more closely.
A frown crossed his face. It looked like at one point some red threads had been laid on the wood. The threads felt familiar, like a kiss from years ago. It reminded him of his mom. The issue was some sort of darkness, oozing down the tense red threads, actually thinning it further.
His face was a scowl now, and the green of his glare sharpened. All his exercises stopped, and he used thin threads to rapidly repair his joints and muscles as he moved closer to one of the clusters of black thread.
That evil bastard.
Somehow the demon baby had infected this red thread. How he had done so from his scar was beyond Harry, but clearly it had been done over years and years. In fact, he remembered from his mind hell how progressively more aggressive the Dursley family had become over the years. That cursed mind baby must have been working his way through these threads, trying to gain control of whatever this thread was trying to do.
This was NOT acceptable.
Focusing on his right arm, he built the largest rope he could handle right now. Reaching to the old wood and resting his palm against it, he willed the vibrant green rope through his hand and gently contacted the red thread. Knowledge. He could feel the world fade to black as he could visualize the entirety of a structure of red wire. It made a strange pattern and wove through pipes, wood, carpet and stone... and over half was being corroded by the black threads. Harry scowled with eyes closed as he decided that anything the blackness wanted had to be a bad idea. It also seemed that the red thread was already tied into him, on the edge of his green thread. The connection was so old he had to focus to even recognize it.