It was the four scars that went from his entirely white left eye to his normally quivering lips that made everyone steer clear of him, the scattering of small scars that marked his neck, arms and hands; the object of his inability to socialise with the other children in his small and close knit class. Close knit, bar him that was.

It was his disfigurement, his pain and punishment.

None of the children cared to find out about what had happened, only wanting to leave the deformed boy to his own quiet devices, the teachers however were a different matter. Speculation on how the boy got the scars was rife amongst the staff; such stories from agreement with the tale the family fed the school about the serious car accident he had been involved with, to much more gruesome and dangerous territory, that many whilst they may have agree with the ideas, never spoke them aloud.

No one really knew what to do with the little boy; they tried to keep the cousin and him separate as possible. The chubby blond boy was forever picking on him, him and the little gang of goons that ran riot in the playground. It was a hard task most of the time to keep an eye out without seeming to deliberately interfere; the cousins mother was on the Board of Governors and her husband's company sponsored many of the events the school threw.

For some of the more concerned teachers it was a lose-lose situation since they were forbidden, upon their teaching contracts (made with a serious clause that none of them seemingly remembered reading prior to signing it) to interfere with the family affairs, although that was also due to the greed of the Headmaster and his higher rating associates.

They, the teachers, would question themselves as they watched the seemingly malnourished boy sit at the back of the classroom alone and silently, getting on with the work never complaining about anything.

If it was so bad why didn't he complain? It couldn't be that really, could it? The staffers constantly reminded themselves of that little notation as if to try and supersede their heavy guilt of negligence they each carried and seemed to become heavier after each school holiday, or half term, had the child in question coming back looking more down trodden and withdrawn than ever.

This particular day happened to be a Monday, back from one of those half terms where they would look over the child form in contempt and pure wretchedness, still unable to do anything.

The teacher, a young bright little thing, fresh out of university walked through the door to the brightly coloured classroom with a little blonde haired girl behind her; the class fell silent as they turned from there inane chatter to observe the girl who was clearly making a move on their territory.

"Good morning boys and girls, we have a new student starting with us today, her name is Amy Turner and I want you all to be nice to her, she has just moved all the way from London, please make her feel welcome," the hostile looks sent her way had her shuffling her feet shyly wringing her leather clad hands, head bowed so her fringe covered her fading black eyes.

Miss Henderson felt her heart break, damn the contract she had signed, seeing the looks and feeling the vibes of snootiness from around the room decided to place her with her other quiet student. Poor girl didn't have a chance in this school. School? She almost snorted aloud and successfully kept the disgusted look off her face as she led the girl to the back of the room, this place was more like a prison for the insecure and a boxing ring for the bullying little shi-

"Amy why don't you come and sit with Harry today, I'm sure he'll look after you, Harry is a very good students," she had tried praising the boy, but he had always rejected it, recoiled away from it even but she still tried.

She had however unknowingly, given the two just a tiny sliver of hope as a tentative friendship formed, blossomed quickly into a stronger relationship that would share many a heart ache and once in a while a slice of joy.

The pair was seen together always after that initial day of being placed next to each other. Miss Henderson knew that the girl wouldn't exactly be a loud case for she seemed almost identical to Harry in her demeanour, but she never expected them both to draw in on themselves completely.

Even the rest of her class had come to ignore the presence of the two silent students instead of tormenting and teasing them whenever they thought the teacher wasn't looking. It almost seemed as if there had never been a new girl; she had never spoken accept for the odd 'good morning' and 'good afternoon' in registration.

The two were never seen in the playground and had seemingly found a sanctuary from the boy's cousin in the school library. Said cousin wouldn't dare set foot in the library, even in lesson time he would kick up such a fuss that his home teacher had all but given up on him. The boy had a fear of the cantankerous old librarian ever since he was scolded for scribbling in a textbook.

The girl and boy, Harry and Amy were never far from each other, choosing to sit together on one large beanbag rather than their own ones, drawing comfort from the silent company of the other person, knowing that finally, there was someone for them to talk to, even if it was only each other. Just because they didn't chatter in front of other people didn't mean that they didn't talk at all, quite the contrary actually.

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A/N Hello to all and to all a hello :) this is my first fiction on this site, although i have been indeed writing for other sites so you may recognize some of the material you are reading, feel free to question that if your suspicious :P (I would XD)

Any way, still learning the what's and buttons on this site so play nice and i'll up-date as often as i possibly can.

Remember, if you like it review, if you don't review! If you simply not fussed about any of it..... REVIEW! :)

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