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It was at this point that they came into a clearing in the forest, and the sky was starting to turn the gray of dawn. In the center of the clearing was a bone white tree, about one hundred feet tall, the trunk looking like it was comprised of large, straight, two inch-thick rods of wood instead of bark, and the branches seemed to curve to make a sphere. The leaves were silver and the seemed to glow gently in the predawn dark. To Harry's magical senses, the tree shone as bright as the noonday sun, while singing with a very gentle and extremely ancient strength.

"This is the reason Perenelle and I built our home nearby. We've spent the last century studying this tree. It is extremely old and immensely powerful."

Harry nodded dumbly at this statement. It was painfully obvious to his senses that tree radiated magic. Which was completely different in fact from any of the other trees that grew in highly magical areas, which had a slight glow that spoke of a build up of energy. This tree was a bloody power plant! "And it also seems to possess some kind of awareness. What you are going to do is walk up to the tree, channel some magic into the palm of your hand, and hope that it gives you something."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No. The thing apparently likes Pen better than me, too. Most of the time she is the only one the blasted thing will give a sample to."

Harry's reply dripped with sarcasm, "Comforting."

Sighing Harry walked up to the tree and said, "You know, I feel like a complete and utter fool doing this. I hope the extremely old man ("Hey, I heard that you whippersnapper!") isn't just messing with me."

He placed his hand against the tree, feeling both a physical warmth coming from it, along side the mild heat and slight vibration of its magic. He pushed a little of his own magic out through the palm of his hand and then felt a slight shift in the energies. One of the rods, a little over six feet in length came loose from above Harry and hit him in the head.

Falling on his ass and cursing, he frowned as the magic around the tune of the tree's magic took on a note that could only be described as... amusement. "Oh, you think it is funny don't you? Beaning me in the head with a length of lumber... Well let's see how you like it when I cover your branches in bog rolls!" The magic shifted, being something that could only be outright laughter. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, you quasi-sentient magical heap of wood."

Picking up the blank for his staff, Harry made his way back to Nicolas. "Uncle Nic, your magical tree has a twisted sense of humor."

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8253087/12/