I was backed up against the dumpster… again. This was getting real old real fast. Sighing, I realized that I still had my brand-new designer bag in hand. I quickly cried out. "Wait!" I know that I was only postponing the inevitable. I ran over to the nearest tree and hung the bag on the lowest branch. "Okay, I'm ready." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and waited… Nothing came.

"Leave him alone!" a silky tenor voice called in a lovely British accent. My eyes flew open and I saw a beautiful boy whose height and facial structure made him appear to be about twelve or thirteen. This stranger had shiny raven black hair that went down to the small of his back, and the greenest eyes I had ever seen, they seemed to be almost cat-like. The seemingly young face had many scars, some old and others seemed to be brand new, upon further inspection, I saw that many of them were words, or rather, one word many times over. That word was… Freak… and it was in multiple languages, I recognized Spanish and French along with English.

Karofsky spun on his feet to see he who dared to defy him in the daily routine. When he saw the boy, he smirked and called out to Azimio. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here. What will you do if we don't leave him alone? Tell your mommy?" The jock started to advance on the boy. I was scared for the boy who I estimated to stand at four foot six.

I was ignored as Azimio turned to follow Karofsky. Suddenly, those already bright green eyes seemed to take on a strange glow and the wind picked up, swirling leaves around him. Karofsky reached the boy and reached out to grab him to throw him in the dumpster, but before his hand even came in contact with the boy, he was flat on his back with the black-haired boy standing over him. Azimio stopped his advance and stared at the two. The wind died down and the emerald eyes glowed even brighter for a second, then dimmed back to their original emerald green color. The boy was completely calm as he softly replied with a soft, but cold, "No, I will not be crying to my mum."

The two jocks stared at this strange boy in horror before running off saying something about how they were going to tell the principal. I was staring after Karofsky and Azimio when I heard a soft chuckle come from the boy. I tilted his head and studied the strange boy, wondering what was funny. As if reading my mind, the boy said, "Who would believe them that I, being the scrawny new kid that I am, could have possibly beaten up those two oafs?"

I had to admit, it was pretty funny if you thought about it. Heck, I hardly believed it and i had seen it happen with my own two eyes. The boy walked calmly to the tree that my bag was hanging on and grabbed it. He walked back over and handed it to me, asking, "Are you okay? Did they hurt you at all?" Concern made those green eyes shine. I was stunned.

"N-no, they did not hurt me. In fact, you just saved my brand-new clothes from being ruined by the trash from the daily dumpster-dive that is usually followed by being slushied in the halls. You didn't have to do that by the way. I can guarantee that you have officially made it onto the list of people to get bullied, and it is only the first day of school. I'm Kurt by the way, Kurt Hummel." I stuck out my hand.

Pain and anger flitted across that scarred face so fast that if I had blinked, I would have missed it. The boy seemed to very slightly shake his head as if to clear it before grasping the offered hand and firmly shaking it, I could not help but noticed how calloused his hands were. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Oh, the transfer student from the boarding school across the seas? Scotland was it? I heard about you."

The boy seemed to wince at his words. "Yeah, that one. Though, I only went to school in Scotland, I lived in Surrey." Harry answered in a pained voice that turned bitter with the last four words.

I had a strong urge to hug this strange, new kid who I had never met before, but something told me that he would not appreciate it much. "Hey, you don't know your way around yet do you?" Harry shook his head. "Well, I could show you to each of your classes if you would like."

"Sure, thanks… uhh… Just a quick question, if you don't mind." I gestured for him to ask the question. "Uhh… Do you know a man by the name of Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore, Cornilius Fudge, or Rufus Scrimgeour, or any variations of either of those names do you?"

'Hmmm… Those are very strange names.' I thought before answering. "No, I cannot honestly say I do." I felt a strange discomfort over my left eye, almost as if someone was poking at my head.

Harry looked satisfied, though still cautious, and the odd sensation stopped. "Good, thank you."

"Okaaay? Well, let me see your schedule! See if we have any classes together." Harry handed over his schedule, "Hmmm… Wow! It seems we have everything together except here where you have Latin where I have French." He handed the schedule back. "Well, if we do not want to be late for chemistry, we should start walking now. Why don't we play a game of twenty questions? If you do not feel comfortable answering a question, you can just say skip. Okay? Okay. I'll go first. Why did you choose to come to Lima, Ohio of all places?"

A/N: I am re-writing the entire story one chapter at a time, now that I am rereading it, I am not satisfied with how it is going, and in order to the next few chapters to fit into the story, I need to change the way they are written. The schedules are set up like my school's schedule. This is my schedule, but where he has Latin, I have Band and instead of Art, I have Stage Craft.

Harry's Schedule

Hour 1: History

Hour 2: Algebra II

Hour 3: Language Arts

Hour 4a: Study Hall

Hour 4b: Latin

Hour 4c: Latin

Hour 5a: Lunch

Hour 5b: Study Hall

Hour 6: Art

Hour 7: Biology