Silent Brilliances

I Do Not Own Harry Potter or there would have been a lot more Slash and the movies would have been rated R.

There will be mentions and depictions of past child abuses as well as Male on Male homosexual relationships later in the story witch may be a ways away

Warning this is my first Fanfic and I did it without a beta So sorry for any wrong words or grammar problems. See AN at the bottom.

Harry James Potter was a very different boy than your average child. Harry was not cared for by his guardians like other children, he was not seen as a child that needs to be taken care of and raised to be a good person in the world and find a place in it. Harry was not brought up loved and cherished, but scorn and treated with obvious hate and dislike; he was an 'unwanted freak', as his relatives called him. He was raised to believe he was not something of importance, and his life was a burden on the people around him. That impossibly long and unreasonable chore lists and unobtainable work expectations, from his Aunt Petunia, were acceptable prices for his living cost. That starvation and beatings, from his Uncle Vernon, were the punishments he deserved for being the cause of problems that he had nothing to do with. Harry was raised to believe no matter what he did he would never be anything in this world because he was different.

However no matter what his relatives tried to raise him to believe he knew they were wrong, he knew he wasn't useless or worthless. Just like he knew he was better than his fat, spoiled, thick headed pig of a cousin, Dudley. And that no matter what they wanted everyone to believe, he knew his aunt and uncle were neither respectable nor important people. His aunt was a stay at home wife with the face and body of a starved horse, desperate for the approval and jealousy of the neighbors she spied on through her curtains and fence for information that was none of her business. She thought that her son, Dudley, no matter what teachers, doctors or neighbors said was a perfect flawless angel that deserved the worlds love and obedience. Harry's uncle Vernon was a heavily obese working class man with a mustache than made him resemble a walrus, who believed he was an important figure far above his place in society, and that his son, the spitting image of himself, would always be better than his unwanted freak nephew. One thing that Harry did believe from his relatives was that he wasn't normal, but that didn't have to be a bad thing, he was different he only needed to look in a mirror to know that.

He was small for his age, inches shorter than all the other boys, and even some girls, his age. He was both a very plain child you could easily over look and a beautiful boy; with shiny messy black hair that came down just too his shoulders that curled up and spiked out as if he had just been in a strong wind and piercing emerald green eyes. He had a petite build, with soft smooth skin and soft featchers. It wasn't just his looks however, that made Harry so unique, and different. He was what many called a prodigy of the arts, and a genius; he could draw and paint masterpieces that were highly valued in his life and would be even more so in his death, he could play music that could rival the best classical musicians, and could dance with the grace a prima ballerina. He could remember nearly everything he's read, seen and heard in his life.

What was probably most unique about Harry was that, in all eleven years of his life, he has never been able to utter a single word.

Harry looked down at the strange letter, delivered by an owl to make things weirder, with a frown. He had been on his way out the door to the library and had picked up the mail and had seen it on top. He just slipped it into his satchel before giving the rest to his uncle, not even bothering to look at the walrus like man, just throwing the mail on the table in front of him and walking out the door. Only once outside on the front step did he read the strange letter written on parchment and seen an owl on the fence watching him. He walked to the library after reading the letter, several times, deep in thought about what he just read, that he was supposedly a 'wizard' and had been accepted to a magical school.

At first when seeing a letter addressed to him, he first thought it was a notice from his current school, Harry didn't really have any friends at his school well not any that would send him letters. Beginning in school four years younger than the youngest student age group and unable to speak made him a bit isolated from the rest of his classmates. Harry was currently the youngest student in history to attend Faciendo Artes Academy, the most prestigious school of performing and visual arts, a given by its name. He had some older students who asked after him but they never wrote to him for no reason. He had gotten a note with a present or post card from a few of them but never just a letter out of the blue.

When Harry first started reception school at four years old he had not been placed in a class right away and had instead been given a one on one teacher who had experience with disabled children, normally deaf, for his lack of speech. Harry's teacher, Mr. Arnold, had been shocked at his progress when teaching him sign language, when after only two weeks of lessons Harry had been able to tell him he had never had any lessons or practices before coming to school. The thought that he had no way of communicating before the age of 4 was over shadowed by the speed Harry had shown for learning; he had memorized the alphabet both in sign language and written form, on his first day and it had only taken him a little over three weeks for him to learn to read, he had taught himself how to by both memorizing the sounds of the letters of the alphabet and putting them together as well as remembering the words of the story books that Mr. Arnold and the librarian, would read aloud. When the end of his first month of school came Harry had developed a love of reading and had become a regular occupant of the school's library, when it was discovered Harry was actually reading the books and not only looking at the pictures it had been assumed that Harry already knew how to read before coming to school, an Harry had never corrected them. After two months harry was placed in a regular class with other students, Mr. Arnold had still been around ,primarily for Harry, and would help other student and act as an occasional translator.

It was during their first (Harrys first with them) art lesson did a new talent make itself known, the teacher Ms. Eddie told them they would be coloring a pitcher of an animal using the color blue. Most of the other kids started coloring obtuse and disproportioned blue dogs, cats, bunnies and other animals, as she was making her way around and looking at the pieces of art the children were making she stopped when she seen what Harry was drawing. In the center of the paper was a beautifully drawn blue jay, the bird was standing on a branch and looked to be drawn in colored pencil and outlined in certain places with black crayon, the tail feathers and the wing tips had been colored in a brighter blue and black with white tips. The bird had its head cocked curiously to the side and was looking at a small flower at the end of the branch it was perched on, it had been shaded to show light coming from the left and the blue jay looked like it was about ready to flap its wings and fly of the paper, in other words it definitely didn't look like the work of a 4 year old. When she asked Harry how he had made it he signed. 'I just made it look like the bird I seen in the garden.'

By the end of first term Harry had been bumped ahead to year two in his level of learning, though do to Harrys lack of interaction with his classmates, even after coming into the classroom he was not moved out of his reception room to a higher year room and was just given year two material. Half way into second term it had become apparent that Harry didn't really want to interact with his year mates, normally drawing or reading by himself in the class or library during free time and recess and was still advancing.

When Harry had come back to school at age 5 he had been placed in the year three class instead of the year one class with the rest of his age group, with the hope that he would have better luck socializing with children closer to his own intellect. Many of his new 'year mates' were confuse at seeing a 5 year old in their class, especially do to his small stature, some of them recognized him as the little kid that didn't talk and was always in the library. Harry for the most part still kept to himself, but didn't completely isolate himself like he had before do to the fact that his new class mates could communicate with him better than the kids in his age group could. Harry was given a small white board and marker that he used as his primary means of communication, his new teacher had also shown the kids in his class some basic sign language; the man had grown up with a deaf cousin and had learned as a child. Some of the kids would talk to him every so often about classwork or just to ask a class related (have you finished tonight's reading?) or meaningless (do you think we can have monkeys for pets?) question, but he was mostly left on his own.

It was this year Harry had shown another talent, in music class the children were shown a variety of instruments they could chose to practice on. The teacher showed the kids a shelf were easy, cheap and sturdy instruments were, like the recorder, one girl had gone over to the piano in the corner and started playing explaining she had had lessons. Harry had looked over the instruments and had wondered over to the other part of the room and found a violin and placed it under his chin and brought the bow along it like he had seen in a pitcher book. The first sound that came out was sharp and jagged, but after a few more seconds of making a sound akin to a dying cat, he started to adjust his fingers and the pressure on the bow the sound coming out of it started to become softer and smoother, he closed his eyes and just pulled back and forth playing a deep but light nameless melody for a few seconds and learning were which notes were where.

When he opened his eyes most of the class was looking at him and the teacher was staring at him with a slightly shocked and interested look, she seem to snap out of it and pull herself together and had the class sit in a circle as she tried to explain how to read sheet music. At the end of class she allowed them to try and play the song on the board, "Marry Had A Little Lamb", the room was filled with off key music and high pitch whistling sounds. Amidst the sounds she could still hear that Harry and April, the girl on the piano, were playing the song. April played without even looking at the keys or the board; she looked slightly bored as if she had done this a thousand times before, that very well may have been the case. Harry on the other hand played the song while focusing on the white board, hitting every note perfectly with a small smile on his face. When class was done and they were dismissed for recess with their normal teacher she told them they could go or stay and practice, Harry had been one of the few that stayed most of the others running out immediately. Harry was in the middle of playing "Marry Had A Little Lamb" again, this time with his eyes closed when the teacher came over to him.

"Harry have you had lessons on the violin before now?' she asked. When Harry's response was a shake of his head in the negative she didn't know if she should be shocked or not. "If you wish you could come here during recess or even after schools some days to practice. I believe you have a real talent for it." Harry's green eyes brightened at the offer and shook his head yes with a smile. It only took a few weeks before Harry was playing high level classical pieces, playing music became one more thing Harry Potter could be found doing the others still being drawing or reading.

Harry continued on with his new class through year three and then into most of year four. It was no secret that Harry was one of the smartest and most gifted students in the school. His art work and music had gotten many of the teachers attention, and he had been to see the principal several times to check and see how he was doing and discuss future schooling, several of his paintings had been entered into a nationwide school art competition and had won, earning the school a lot of recognition and praise. This had also gained Harry the attention of several secondary schools with well-known art programs.

It was just before Easter holidays when his teacher learned just how fast Harry was advancing in school. During their math lesson when his year four teacher was walking around the class helping people and checking progress when she started heading to the back corner of the room where Harry sat. He had already handed in his assignment, this was nothing new, and was now reading a book and writing in a note book, again nothing out of the ordinary, however when she seen the book she became curious. When she asked what it was she was surprised to see it was a year six mathematics work book from the library and he was copying and solving the problems into the notebook. When she looked in the notebook she was shocked to see he was almost done with the book, when she asked why he was doing it and how he understood it. His reasons had been that he had been reading things like school books in the library along with story books basically his entire time at school and that it just wasn't that hard to understand.

After discussing it with him more and informing the principal of this development they had him take a few placement tests to get a better idea of where he was actually at. The tests started at a year three level of all subjects taut and progressively got harder. The results had been very shocking to his teacher and principal. Harry Potter had answered questions correctly into the high year 7 portion of the test in math, english, and history, he answered into year 5 of science. Learning that a 6 going on 7 year old student had self-studied himself just little over two years ahead for a second time was more than a little surprising along with the fact that the school was running out of things for him to learn.

He had not shown the same advancing skills he had in reception. He never answered questions unless called on directly, and whenever asked about class and school he would normally respond 'Good but, boring.' Granted a student reading and writing in complete sentences whereas the rest of the class was still learning the alphabet was much more noticeable than an, already well-known gifted student that preferred to read than interact with other students.

A counselor at the school had given Harry a different test and had come to the conclusion he was one of the few people to have an eidetic or photographic memory. Of cores now his description of classes being "boring" seemed to have a different meaning than just the typical child not having fun at school. Harry was bored because he knew what was being taught already and was not being challenged or taught anything new, he did so without complaint and just looked for his own means of entertaining/educating himself.

Harry had spent his last term at his primary school bringing his science knowledge up to par with his other subjects to round out his education, and looking into what secondary school he would apply to. It was Harry's music teacher; he had never stopped with the lessons and had even moved on to other instruments, that had given Harry the suggestion of his future secondary school, Faciendo Artes Academy.

The principal himself had taken the time to help him with his enrolment and scholarship papers and had even driven Harry into London to take the entrance exam and for him to do the schools mandatory audition. The school was most known for its studies of the performing and visual arts. The school had alumni that had went on to become everything from actors, dancers, and musicians to architects, artists, and authors. Many names in Hollywood, Broadway, and Bollywood had ben students of Faciendo Artes, gaining it a reputation as a prime starting point for anyone that wanted to get into show business.

By September 1st of 1987 Harry James Potter at 7 years old had become the youngest student to attend Faciendo Artes Academy. Harry had not only gotten in on and academic scholarship but had also managed to get a music scholarship as well, the school had had many musical prodigies as students in the past as well as a few people who could be called academic geniuses, but Harry had come in as both and the school had been thrilled. Harry himself had been happy that he was able to get away from his relatives for 10 and a half months out of the year.

Harrys four years at Faciendo Artes had been better than anything he could have had back at number four Privet Drive. He had gotten a bit of grief for being 4 years younger than the youngest age group in the school, and he had a few incidences that had him considering leaving but nothing that lasted more than a few days at most.

He had maintained his academic record of 'being the top in his classes' for his entire deration at the school. His academic scholarship had required him to stay as one of the top three students in his year, his music scholarship only required him to stay in the top 30% of his year academically. For coming in first in his year his 25 pound a week stipend had gone to 30 the next term and remained that as he continued to stay in the top spot, this was added to the 10 pound a week stipend he got for his music scholarship giving him a good chunk of savings.

He had even found a new passion while attending Faciendo, as a physical education class Harry had chosen ballet and found he loved it, unlike his art and musical talents Harry found he had to put much more time and effort into dance. When it came to dancing it wasn't enough for him to just memorize the steps and moves, he had to work and practice making his body flow with grace and poise, that was what he liked most about dance; there was always a way to keep striving for more. With his music and art he was expected to practice and work hard at them as well by the school and he did, but not to the extent dance required of him. With music he practiced every day when attending school on his violin (a parting gift from his music teacher) primarily and would practice whatever other instruments he started learning in his free time, more moderately.

With art on the other hand he had never really had to think or practice at it, be it sketching, drawing, or painting he would normally just looked at, or even think about, what he wanted to create and he would let his hands move and he would make it come to life on the page or canvas, he could never quite explain it. Sometimes his mind would just drift while he was painting and he never really knew why or how he would create some of his art pieces, they were however always beautiful.

There had been some of strange and mythical creatures in various locations; like unicorns in a dark and menacing forest, strange looking yellow-eyed mermaids, with grey skin and wild green hair, underwater, and dragons that looked to be on a ranch or farm of sorts. There had also been a few paintings of places he had never seen like a small snow covered village with candles hanging in the trees, and a beautiful black lake that seemed to be surrounded by a forests.

One of the strangest occurrences was when he would paint people he had never seen before. He had made pictures and paintings of random and generic people all the time, but the people he painted when he would 'drift off' always seemed to be somehow real like they did or had existed , one particular painting of a women with green eyes and bright red hair had always seems especially familiar to him.

Now sitting in the far corner on the second story of the public library a nearly eleven year old Harry sat looking at the parchment letter reading it once more.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

Harry set down the letter and whent over his options and what he would do before deciding he didn't have enough information to make a good decision so took a pen from his bag and a piece of note book paper and wrote out a response.

After quickly writing down his letter he opened the window next to the table he was sitting at making sure there was nobody around and attached it to the owls leg (it seemed to have followed him) and watched it fly off.

As the bird became a speck in the sky Harry looked down and started to think.

'Magic hum, well at least I have a proper name for it now.' Harry thought

He flexed his fingers and above his hand a small amount of mists started to form and condense into little floating globs of water and froze into ice that seemed to keep swimming in the air making soft crackling sounds, like liquid glass.

AN: Hay Guys this is my very first Fic and I've been wanting to make one of these forever now and I gest could not get this story out of my head I have so much stuff I have wanted to write and get out of my head but unfortunately having great story ideas and getting them out of your head and onto a computer is a lot easier said than done. This story will be VERY slow going as I don't normally have access to a computer and internet, but I relly wanted to get some of my ideas out of my head SOOOOO hears the first chapter.

I know this chapter seems rushed but I just wanted to get like a quick summery of what's already happened in Harry's life up to the point of the letter I do plan to go into his passed in greater detail in later chapters

Also sorry, I just figure it out how to edited this yesterday but I dident know how to replace it. So now everything should be easyer to read now. Especially the "Harley" James Potter thing I feelt like kicking myself for not catching that