He tried to bend his left arm. With the braid pattern, his joints were locked into place... so he would have to quickly braid and separate his ropes if he wanted to use this in a fight. Harry had four ropes in his other limbs join his arm as they all began rapidly weaving into a braid and separating. He figured repetition would help him quickly swap between the two states.
He mentally checked with Jim. Apparently it was still early in the day according to the moon clock, so he had lots of time to practice his new armor ropes.
With a quiet sigh, he went back to practice.
Harry was seriously tired of staring at the rough wood roof of his hell. How long had he been staring at it, either unable to move from pain or trying to reduce strain on his limbs while exercising?
Taking a break, he reached up and touched the ceiling with a rope. The green light began to spread into the wood, breaking into threads and wisps as rough edges were dissolved, holes filled, and cracks repaired. As the faded and chipped paint vanished, Harry could see a strong wood color underneath. It was nice, now that the aging white paint had been removed and the sharp nail tips had been worn away. He reached his right hand up and gently stroked the roof, feeling the smooth glass like structure.
As the smooth surface emerged from the roof of his cell, Harry turned and began gathering all the scraps and abandoned clothing he had been "given" over the years, making a large pile. After tossing the ball of string left over from his shoes into the heap, he threw another rope at the mass.
The entire collection began fading into white cloth as color was absorbed, and a small ball of plastic and metal rolled down the left side as all the zippers, buttons, and ringlets were broken down. Now that he had some raw materials, he forced them into the rough wood flooring, a third rope of light shaping the floor into a level and smooth surface.
Harry had never really thought about what he WANTED his room to be like, he had always just accepted things. Now however, he had options. He wove the white thread mass into the now smoothed flooring, creating tiny threads into a new carpet covering. Where his green rope pulsed into the floor, white fur seemed to spread in circles toward the edges of his room.
He had been forced into this hell, but now he could force this hell into a home.
'Quack'.
Oh, the roof was done. Harry thanked Jim for paying attention, and watched as the close ceiling began shifting to a bright blue sky color. As it changed, he felt his green light pulsing with some sort of need. He frowned as he tried to understand what exactly he was feeling.
His shoulder suddenly burned a bit as a thick rope flung from his body and smacked the ceiling. Distracted, Harry almost bit his lip as he tightly gripped his right shoulder, trying to understand what exactly the rope was trying to do. As the burn faded, he looked at the roof. It was now over 4 meters away. In fact, the whole room seemed to be larger.
Harry frantically checked with Jim. If he had damaged the house, he would be getting his confrontation right NOW, ready or not. No one would just ignore a massive ROOM appearing, probably blocking the stairs and pushing the kitchen. Who knew how much damage he may have just caused.
Several soothing quacks later and he tried to calm his heart down. Apparently the red network had been modified as well, as it showed the normal outline of his hell hole AND the expanded one at the same time. Harry wished he could understand the new green pattern that now filled the walls and floors, but it was nearly as complex as the red network. In fact, the two networks seemed to be joined in a few places. Well, if there was no real damage or change outside, maybe he should just accept the new space. With an almost absent hand wave he pressed a thread through both feet, changing the new carpet into a grassy green color. With the blue walls and ceiling, the whole area felt much closer to his mental home.
Harry turned to his mattress. He had never really liked it BEFORE it had become so aged and damaged. Now that the room was so nice, he didn't really want to sleep on that... thing.
Pressing both hands firmly on the ancient springs, he pulled the other metal ball from the clothing to him using a thread and began disassembling his mattress. As the blood and stains were dissolved, and the various dies and such were absorbed by his light, he decided to place his new bed in the far left corner, furthest from the locked door. Pulling the mass of metal springs, cloth coverings, and foam pieces into the corner, he contemplated what to do. Carefully pulling the metal forward, he pushed them into the carpet covered wood floor. Seeing that the carpet would not be visible under his new bed anyway, he pulled those green threads out of the floor and added them to the now fairly substantial pile.
After some thought, he absorbed enough of each embedded spring to cut its length in half. Using the new metal, he doubled the number of springs within the bed shaped hole in the carpet. Satisfied, he then wove the cloth into a thick pad on top of the springs, connecting them into a solid mass. He made the surface double what it used to be, to prevent springs from tearing through this time and gouging his skin.
As the pure white bed took shape, he pondered on what to do. He didn't really have the materials to improve this much more, almost all the thread and metal was gone. True he had made the mattress larger to fit his new body, but he had hoped he had enough overly large clothing to make up for the new dimensions.
Harry giggled a bit to himself. Listen to him, complaining about not being able to make his bed softer. Until recently, he barely noticed if he was on that ratty old mattress or on the cold splinter filled floor... now he was in a finely crafted wooden room with bright blue walls and roof, and a grass green carpet. His new bed was loads better than what it had used to be, and here he was nit-picking the situation.
Honestly, he should be overly grateful just being able to stand up straight in here. Harry walked back into the center of his new room, and restarted his exercises. He would not be laying down during the confrontation, so he would have to learn how to lock his limbs with the braid without losing his balance.
Harry's limbs twitched as his braids wove together and apart. Even with his face wincing every now and then, his smile at his new home kept breaking through. He would easily meet his goals by tonight, and hopefully find out more about his real past and family in only a half day.
Harry woke up, stretching on his new bed and looking up at the blue wood roof. Today he would get some answers.
He frowned in concentration. His new form, heck, just his new clothing made him look totally different than he had even a few days ago. As humorous the thought was of jumping out of the cupboard and watching the family have a heart attack, he actually needed to have a conversation.
If they all fainted, or ran screaming, or whatever, talking would be hard.
Could he leave a note? No, he didn't really know how to read or write yet. Pictures would probably only confuse them. Maybe just sit in the living room? Harry sighed. Even just waiting for Vernon to open the stair door seemed like a bad idea now, since the new look would probably freak him out.
He sat up on his bed and leaned against the blue wall, crossing his legs and tapping his knee. What if he pretended to be someone new?
Well, for one thing they would be shocked that he had broken into the home.
He giggled a bit. Maybe he should just ring the doorbell.
... Heck, why not?