At long last there is a new update so check it out! I am doing some minor editing in preparation for the new update. I started this fic a long time ago, and have every intention of completing it. I fixed some errors and a new chapter will be out by next week.

To any new viewer, I hope you enjoy, I will be continuing this. Feel free to follow and review.

Disclaimer. I do not own Harry Potter, I simply enjoy the places my !mind takes me.

"What a distressing contrast there is between the radiant intelligence of the child and the feeble mentality of the average adult". ~Sigmund Freud
"Some people take more care to hide their wisdom than their folly". ~Jonathan Swift
"If the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn't". ~Emerson M. Pugh

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."—Prophecy made to Albus Dumbledore by Sybil Trelawney.

Harry James Potter, born July 31st, 1980, was supposed to be an ordinary child. He was supposed to be your regular half-blood wizard, there was supposed to be nothing remotely more than average about him at all. He had two loving, happily married parents in the form of Lily and James Potter. Harry was normal. Neville Longbottom a pure-blood wizard, was marked as The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, was simply Harry, the heir of the ancient house of Potter, nothing more.

The only thing that was supposed to be non-average about him, was his looks. For the four year old was simply to adorable to have average looks. Harry had dazzling emerald eyes, which he inherited from his mother. He had messy raven locks, which he inherited from his father. He was small, even for the age of four. He had pale skin, that contrasted perfectly with his raven hair. He was a beautiful child. This is the only thing that should be non-average about the raven haired boy, but it's not.

That is exactly why nothing about Harry made sense. Ever since Harry could remember, he could control his magic. Wandlessly and wordlessly, all he had to do was think about it, and it would happen. Harry was an highly intelligent child, he loved to read, even at his young age of four. He read books, that most adults could not understand, which is remarkable for a four year old. Harry, being the intelligent child that he was, knew that this power he possessed was not normal. So he hid it, he hid it and he hid his intelligence.

So to everyone, Harry seemed like a normal four year old half-blood wizard who just happened to like reading books. For the most part, he seemed as he should. His parents saw what everyone else saw, because of Harry's love for reading, they didn't bat an eye-lash when they saw him with a book. They did not know what kind of books Harry took from the library, and they didn't care to know. Lily and James did not mind weather or not Harry read books on magic, for they knew-or thought- that he could not yet wield magic.

Besides why worry? Normal four year old's could not understand most of the books on magic in the library, and to them, Harry was as normal as most young wizards come. They let Harry be when it came to books. So Harry took whatever books he wished to read. He even read books in other languages. When he found a foreign book that interested him, he would teach himself the language, so he could read the book. He taught himself the history of magic and the wizarding world, curses, hexes, spells, how to make potions, theory of magic, and much more. At the young age of four, Harry knew magic and spells that weren't taught until you reached your seventh year at Hogwarts.

The four year old even took a peak into the dark arts his parents so hated. He found that he quite liked using dark magic, even if it was "dark." There was not that thick of a line between light and dark after all. They could both be used to kill or save another human, it was the intention behind the magic that mattered, so that is what Harry focused on. That and power-yes, the young raven haired boy loved power. He lived for power. He did everything he could to expand it.

Yet Harry was still only four, so there was a limit to his power and intelligence, a limit that could only be stretched by age and wisdom. The raven was still plagued by his developing emotions and naivety. It was quite a strain for him to constantly act and wear a mask, especially when he was expected to be nothing more than average. Harry had to play with the other children and act like he was having fun, when he would rather be reading. His parents expected him to befriend the children of their friends at social gatherings. Namely the Weasley children, and the Boy-Who-Lived himself, but Harry found them immature, incompetent, and boring.

He didn't mind Charlie and Bill, they were bearable, but to them he was just a little kid. Percy was much to serious for a kid, while Fred and George were not quite serious enough. However, he found himself not minding the twins, the boys two years his senior actually made him laugh. Ron and Ginny were both way too immature and obsessed with Neville. He did not blame them for being immature, for Ginny was three and Ron was his own age, four. Neither of them possessed his intelligence or power, so they were average three and for year old's.

But Harry was disgusted by the fact that they were so obsessed with Neville, and at such a young age, too. Neville was not pig-headed as Harry had thought he would be, but he was immature, childish and dumb. Harry again did not blame him for being immature and childish, but he was the dumbest four year old Harry had ever met, and that is saying something. The fact that he was The-Boy-Who-Lived didn't matter to Harry, the boy was also unbearable.

So the raven faked enjoyment while being bored out of his mind, he had to keep up his mask of normalness after all. He pretended to make friends with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom. He even pretended to make friends with the others his age to keep up appearances. He did not enjoy doing this, but it at least kept his parents content. Harry soon grew to the age of five, then came six. It was at this age that Harry found out just how extraordinary his magic could be. It was at this young age, that Harry found one of his greatest gifts.

It happened one morning, while he was walking through the Potter Manors gardens. Harry heard a strange voice, he knew that no body should be out there but him, so he decided to hide and listen to what the voice was saying. 'no micccce, no deliccciousss miccce...they are all gone. Ssstupid humansss...' the strange voice hissed. The now six year old found what the voice was saying to be very odd, so he decided to locate whoever or whatever was talking. He followed the hisses until he came face to face with a rather large snake.

'were you...were you jussst ssspeaking?' asked Harry in a confused manner. The snakes head shot up to where Harry silently stood. 'A ssspeaker...' it hissed back, and Harry smirked. As soon as it replied Harry knew, he knew what it meant to be able to talk to snakes and hear them talk back. He knew how rare it was, he knew that it was a rare gift, and he knew that it was true. Hhe could talk to snakes. He Harry James Potter, was a Parstletongue, he had found his greatest gift.

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