Heaven & Earth

Round 2

Wings

Authors Note-

Not much to say here really. As you probably noticed 4 chapters went up at the same time. All of which were written a little while ago so I don't have many notes that I wish to include here.

Please Enjoy

Authors Note End-

"Uhh" Harry Potter woke with a groan. Green eyes blinking rapidly as he did so, quickly adjusting to the darkness of the cupboard under the stairs. He was definitely not feeling to good, his arms and legs were sore as was his head. Still it had been quite the dream he had last night, some old man stopping Dudley's Gang. The offering to teach him how to stop Dudley and his cronies should they ever try it again. To top it all off in his dream Aunt Petunia had taken one look at his injury and telling him to go straight to bed when he got home rather than cook dinner, giving him a few piece of stale bread and some water before doing so.

Harry quickly resolved never to speak of the dream to either Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia. After all they really didn't like unusual things and Harry was very much sure that an old man casually flipping an eight year old boy into the air with one hand then offering to teach Harry 'Martial Arts' was definitely count as unusual.

Harry's right arm came up, hand flicking some offending hair out of his eyes before it stopped dead. There was something wrapped around his forehead. Harry gingerly touched the thing, it was soft like fabric. A slightly harder poke made him wince, and it was covering some kind of injury like a very large band aid. Harry's stomach dropped into his feet as his mind processed the information available and came to a single conclusion.

It was no dream.

The fact his brain came back to him with made Harry's heart soar then sink faster than it ever had before. Yes it was no dream, yes Aunt Petunia had let him go to bed when he got home rather than cook dinner. Yes an old man Harry now felt very indebted to had offered to teach him how to defend himself in addition to cleaning his cut. Yes he had been given some food before bed rather than just told to go to sleep, which had happened more than once if something happened that the Dursley's didn't like.

Yes the same old man had thrown one of Dudley's Gang. Likely making his cousin incredibly angry and more than willing to take it out on Harry if he could get Harry alone. Yes Gordon's parents would probably have called the Dursley's and told them about it, after all Gordon was with Dudley at the time. Yes Dudley probably would have told Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia about it. Yes they would be incredibly enraged about the entire affair. Yes they would take it out on him even if everything that had happened wasn't actually Harry's fault.

The first things his brain ran through made Harry feel light as a feather, the second lot made him feel like his feet had been encased in concrete. This could not possibly end well, Uncle Vernon alone would probably rip strips off his hide for this. Between Aunt Petunia, Dudley and Uncle Vernon along with Gordon's parents Harry could not possibly see this ending well. Thumps sounded above his head, Harry knew the way each Dersley sounded and those steps were far to light to be Vernon or Dudley. Which meant that Aunt Petunia would be up first for punishment duty, granted she was a little more lenient than Vernon though that really didn't make Harry feel better about the whole thing.

Because Vernon would decide to make his life as miserable as humanly possible in addition to whatever Petunia did to him. Harry steeled himself as the light foot steps stopped just outside his cupboard. He wanted to pretend that he was still asleep and that whatever Petunia did in order to wake him up hadn't worked. But Harry knew that would just make the whole situation worse, he had tried that once before when he was seven. All it had made her do was open the cupboard and drag him out by the hair before forcing Harry to start on breakfast any way. Thankfully Petunia had never worked out he had been faking sleeping through her wake up. If she had Harry knew that he would have been punished in addition to being dragged out of bed by the hair.

"GET UP, GET UP!" Aunt Petunia's nasally voice cut into his thoughts like a hot knife through butter as she banged on the door to get Harry's attention. Though her choice of words did surprise him, after all Harry was sure that his Aunt would have had more than a few nasty things to say to him. Especially after her Dinky-Duddydums told her what happened yesterday. Harry forced himself to get up off his mattress, there was no room in the cupboard for a proper bed frame so Harry had to be content with an old mattress on the ground.

Harry felt no need to hurry in getting himself ready. After all he was already in as much trouble as it was possible for him to be in so even if he moved slower there was little chance it would make things worse. Pulling on a pair of Dudley's old pants Harry threaded a piece of rope around his waist to act like a makeshift belt. Pulling on one of Dudley's old jumpers, it was a blue and orange mottled monstrosity that Harry remembered Aunt Petunia calling cute, it was anything but, Harry was ready to face the world.

Until he remembered he could waste slightly more time by putting on his shoes before facing the music. Slipping the pair of trainers on, along with two pairs of hideous mustered yellow socks, Harry knew he could avoid his fate no longer. Taking one last deep breath the eight year old stepped out of the cupboard under the stairs and out into the Dursley's hallway. Nothing seemed to have changed, he couldn't see Uncle Vernon or Dudley glaring at him from the kitchen table or anything of the like. Normally Harry would be woken by either of the two largest members of the Dursley household walking down the stairs, well these days neither waddled so much as they rolled down the stairs of a morning.

However Harry would not have been surprised if they had managed to get past him that morning and get to the kitchen before he did. It seemed to be the kind of way he felt the morning going when he woke up. However while both Dudley and Vernon where nowhere to be seen Petunia seemed to be doing a surplus of glaring that morning. Harry's stomach sank as he saw her beady green eyes, a few shades paler than Harry's own, narrowed in distaste at him.

"What took you so long?" She snapped, tapping her foot impatiently. Harry would admit that was not where he thought she would go first. Honestly he had been expecting to be hit first for his 'part' in scaring her Duddykins yesterday and getting Gordon hurt, then asked what took him so long.

"Well boy I'm waiting!" Petunia's voice cut through his thoughts and forced Harry's mind away from trying to figure out why he had not been hit yet.

"Sorry Aunt Petunia," Harry said looking down at the ground, he was already in trouble it would not improve his position if he looked directly at her while speaking. Harry could almost feel the self satisfied look on his Aunt's face when he looked at the ground instead of her when he spoke, he didn't like it.

"I don't want your apology boy! I want to know what took you so long. Useless just like your parents." Petunia stated, Harry could feel her eyes boring into him. He could also feel a little bit of shame from being compared to his parents, while the Dursley's were certainly not nice people they never looked past an opportunity to remind Harry how bad his parents had been.

His father had apparently been not only unemployed but a worthless drunk who got them both killed in a car accident, the same one that gave him his scar. While his mother was no better, just another drunk. Harry used to wonder if the Dursley's were lying to him, in fact in a fit of rage he had once told both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia that one day his parents would come and get him.

He had been four at the time and Dudley had just punched him in front of them. They had gone very still at that, Harry remembered that part clearly. Before Vernon had told him how his parents had died, adding that even if his parents had still been alive they clearly didn't care for him considering he had been left with the Dursley's to raise.

"Sorry Aunt Petunia, I was putting my shoes on for when I need to work in the garden." Harry responded, keeping his eyes on the floor. Hearing his Aunt give a sniff he looked back up as Petunia turned around and marched back to the kitchen, Harry following behind very careful to avoid the vase in the hallway. It was an odd vase, quite clearly not of English design. It was painted gold around the base and lip, the rest of the vase was blue. While the design of a strange tree with pink flowers adorned the front, the painting seemed so vibrant and alive Harry often thought that the petals would start falling any second.

It was also the one thing in the house he was not allowed to touch under any circumstances. Only Aunt Petunia was allowed to touch the vase, either to move it or to clean it. Even Dudley had gotten a vicious chewing out from his Aunt when he attempted to move it. Apparently it was a very expensive, very valuable, gift and she didn't trust anyone else to handle it.

"Breakfast is going to be bacon, hash browns, eggs, beans and toast." Petunia told him, Harry nodded as he looked up at his Aunt. "Vernon and Dudley are having a bit of a lie in. But I will be waking them up in half an hour so you best be done by then." She continued pulling out some plates and glasses from the top shelf she knew Harry wouldn't be able to reach. "After your done cooking you may have two pieces of toast and an egg but nothing else! Don't think I won't be watching you. When you've washed up get outside and start trimming the hedges. Then weed the garden and water it. Once you've got all that done come see me and I'll tell you the rest." Petunia finished walking out of the kitchen, not even waiting for Harry's response.

He already knew what the next jobs were going to be, laundry and mopping the bathroom floor. Thankfully most of the laundry had already been done yesterday and from what Harry could hear his Aunt was putting on another load now. Meaning there really wouldn't be all that much to do when he was finished in the garden. That was a good thing, it meant that he could put old man Yamamoto's plan into motion.

Harry moved with quick, sure, hands. After making the Dursley's breakfast for the last year he knew just the way to cook for them. Harry also knew the fastest way to get it done, usually he tried to take as long as possible just because he didn't like any of them, but today that had to change. Harry needed to get his jobs done as fast as possible, because getting to old man Yamamoto's as quickly as possible was the main aim today.

Removing the bacon from the fridge Harry stood up on the small booster Vernon had given to him begrudgingly. Picking up one of the knives in the wooden block near the counter he set about trimming some of the fat off, not to much or they would notice but just a little. He would fry it up in the pan first by itself, the act had two good points.

Firstly it would give everything else cooked in the pan a slight taste of bacon, including the egg he was allowed to have later. Though that said just cooking the bacon would do that, the real reason was so he could eat the fat when it crisped up. It wasn't a whole piece of bacon to himself but it was as close as Harry would be getting anytime soon. Pulling the hash browns out of the freezer Harry knew he wouldn't need to count them. Aunt Petunia brought hash browns in packs of twelve he knew for a fact that Dudley and Vernon would eat four each while she would eat two. Then the two whales of men would 'convince' themselves that they shouldn't let good food go to waste.

Placing the packet down next to the bacon, Harry quickly grabbed the eggs from next to the breadbox. Vernon, Dudley and Petunia would have two each, thankfully they never ran out since his Aunt kept three cartons of twelve in the house at all times. The beans were not a problem, all Harry had to do was heat those up. There were several tins of baked beans in the cupboard, toast would not be a problem either he had two full loaves of bread in the breadbox. Dudley and Vernon would eat three slices each while Aunt Petunia would eat two.

It was for that reason that Vernon had brought an eight slice toaster years ago. Which made Harry's job a lot easier than it otherwise would have been, something he never mentioned for fear they would take the toaster away.

As he set about cooking breakfast Harry let his mind drift off, body going onto autopilot as it repeated actions it had learned both quickly and well. Something was bothering him about today, he had only been up for fifteen minutes at most and he was already very concerned. Quite simply Harry was wondering why exactly he had yet to be chewed out or punished. While Petunia had been snappish with him, it was no more than she was usually. Honestly Harry had been expecting a lot more yelling and promises of punishment, as usually happened when he was blamed for something strange happening.

Which was what made this morning so strange, that hadn't happened yet. Which meant one of two things. First that Petunia was waiting for Vernon to come down the stairs before they both tanned strips from his hide or Dudley hadn't told his parents about what happened yesterday. The thought hit Harry just slightly more gently than a freight train would have.

Dudley hadn't told his parents.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia did not know about what happened yesterday.

They didn't know about Gordon getting thrown.

They didn't know that Dudley's Gang had chased him through the park.

They didn't know about old man Yamamoto.

They didn't know.

Harry's mind immediately turned to the next question that fact established.

Why didn't they know?

Harry knew Dudley. No matter how much he wished that he had never even met the Dursley's wishing didn't change the fact he had spent eight years with them. He knew Dudley Dursley, in some ways Harry probably knew Dudley than Dudley knew himself. Which was what made the whole situation so puzzling. Everything Harry knew about Dudley Dursley pointed to one iron clad fact- If Dudley Did Not Like Something He Complained About It- more specifically he complained to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

There was no way in the world that Dudley was happy about what happened yesterday. So why exactly hadn't he told his mother about it? Because Petunia was acting far to normal for her to know about everything that happened yesterday.

Harry heard footsteps on the stairs that started him back to reality. Breakfast almost fully cooked before him, just awaiting the toast to pop, which it would any second. A sinking feeling appeared in his stomach as he considered his last question, why hadn't Dudley told his parents.

What if Dudley was waiting to tell his parents over breakfast where they could be quickly and conveniently pointed at Harry. Right at the beginning on the day as well so they could be extra mean to him all day instead of having some of the night to cool off. Harry could see Dudley doing that, once more the dark haired boy felt his stomach fall into his feet. Green eyes remained glued to the kitchen doorway as a sleepy Vernon Dersley walked through it wearing a pair of blue and white striped pajamas. His Uncle's mighty walrus like mustache quivered as he smelt breakfast, Vernon's eyes locked on Harry for a second before the sleepy man shrugged and sat at the table.

One thing that Harry had learned very early on was that Vernon was incapable of functioning in the mornings without his breakfast tea. The other thing he had learned was that anger would mean the tea was not necessary. Considering that Vernon was still in a daze after seeing him instead of snorting like a bull and going red in the face. Harry felt it was fairly safe to say Dudley had not told his mother or father about yesterday.

Harry grabbed the mug of tea from next to him. Something else he had learned over the years was that the longer Vernon had to wait for his tea the angrier he got. If it only took two minutes or less then his Uncle would hold off on the cutting comments he directed to Harry until he was finished the mug. Any longer and Harry would get some kind of parting comment about how useless he was. If Harry took any more than five minutes not only would Uncle Vernon have more than a few choice words for him but also a cuff over the back of the head.

Placing the black mug before his whale of an Uncle Harry went back to the kitchen as he heard the stairs creak once more. Harry felt his mouth go dry, there was only one person it could be, Dudley. Which meant that if Harry was lucky all that would happen was he was thrown into his cupboard for the next two days with nothing to eat, well minus a few pieces of bread and some water. If he was unlucky, well Harry honestly wasn't sure what would happen. He had never been even indirectly responsible for one of Dudley's friends getting hurt before. Harry might not know exactly what Vernon Dursley would do about it but he was sure it was not going to be good.

He tried to act naturally, placing the Dursley's breakfast onto three separate plates. Harry wasn't allowed to eat in the dining room on weekends. he was to cook himself breakfast once they had started eating and was to be finished before Dudley was so he could take all their plates. Sometimes that was a hard thing to do even though Harry liked his egg sunny side up and could finish cooking it inside of two minutes.

Harry's green eyes were kept glued to the kitchen door, through it he got a very good view of the dining room. Dudley came into view a second later looking just as tired as Vernon, who was now starting to wake up thanks to his tea being half finshed. Harry opened the fridge and grabbed out the juice from inside. Dudley had been having a love affair with Ribena recently, so there were two, two liter containers in the fridge. Harry was expected to have Dudley's juice in front of him within no more than a minute after he sat down, if he took more than that he risked being cuffed by Vernon.

Pouring the deep purple liquid into a glass Harry had to fight back the urge to spit into it. He was already going to be in loads trouble after all part of his brain said, why not get one over on the pig in a wig before that happened. The more rational part of Harry's brain pointed out the fact that if he was caught spitting into Dudley's drink he would have a lot more to worry about than he already did, good sense won out over feelings of vengeance, this time.

Harry walked into the dining room, attempting to attract as little attention as possible and placed the cup in front of Dudley. Who took one quick look at him before the blond haired boys blue eyes flicked up to the bandage covering Harry's forehead and he paled slightly and turned away from the smaller boy. Luckily for Harry this small byplay was missed by his Uncle who was finishing off his tea with a final long pull. Vernon placed the mug back down on the table with a thump, eyes focusing on Harry who was just about to leave.

"Hurry up boy I want my breakfast." The older man demanded looking dissatisfied by the fact it wasn't in front of him already. "And fill this up again." Vernon added thrusting his mug into Harry's hands before looking off through the window behind Dudley where he could see Petunia getting the last of the laundry off the line. Harry didn't take issue with the way his Uncle had phrased his commands, part of him was to preoccupied with the fact that Dudley still hadn't ratted him out despite the fact he had been right there. The other part of Harry knew that the lack of insults on his Uncle's part was the closest that Vernon would get to saying thank you for his tea.

Harry quickly retreated into the kitchen once more. His mind abuzz, absently flicking on the kettle as he dished up the Dursley's food. Dudley would have to be served first, Harry knew for a fact that his Uncle didn't like anyone getting food before his son did. After that it would be Vernon himself, mostly because Petunia wouldn't have finished bringing the washing in so she would get her's last. Harry absentmindedly delivered the large breakfast to Dudley and Vernon, adding the 'spare' food to the plates he set in the middle of the table.

As he retrieved Petunia's portion and set it on the table Harry's mind couldn't help but go back to the way Dudley's face went pale. He had seen that a few times at school, usually the teachers didn't catch Dudley but when they did his face went that same colour. It had also happened one time when he had offended one of the older boy's who had picked his cousin up by the front of his uniform and threatened to beat the hell out of him.

In other words it only happened when Dudley was scared.

Harry cracked an egg into the bacon greased pan as he saw Aunt Petunia sit down. But why was Dudley scared, after all it was just a bandage. And, while Harry hated to admit it, before old man Yamamoto had stepped in Dudley's Gang had been beating him up. In fact Harry would go as far as to say that, minus Gordon being thrown and their Harry Hunting session getting broken, up Dudley had been having a rather good day. Well before the old man showed up and scared Dudley and his gang of idiots half to death.

And like that it clicked.

Dudley was scared.

Dudley Dursley was scared of old man Yamamoto.

He was so scared of the old man that he hadn't even told his parents what had happened. Which was definitely something new, but it was also something Harry could use. If Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't know about yesterday then they weren't likely to be any worse than they were usually. So if Harry could finish his jobs fast enough then there was a good chance he could beg off to go out and see the old man.

It shouldn't be to hard. After all he was injured and his Aunt and Uncle knew that, there wasn't anything strange about going and visiting the old man who had helped him. How exactly he was going to explain numerous trips to Yamamoto's house Harry wasn't exactly sure but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. The green eyed boy unloaded the sunny side up egg onto his plate with a look of determination in his eyes.

Right now he had to plan out how to finish his jobs as quickly as humanly possible.

XXX

Petunia Dursley looked down at her nephew with a slight look of disdain on her face. Honestly if it wasn't for the fact that his parents were a couple of freaks she could have actually come to care for the child. He certainly wasn't a bad sort, but his freakishness was dangerous and it wasn't something she really wanted around her family. It was for that exact reason she could never let herself get close to him.

Who knew what would happen if she was tainted by something abnormal like him.

"You want to do what?" Even to her own ears her voice sounded disbelieving. She just needed to hear him say it one more time, just to be sure she had heard him correctly.

"I would like to go visit the old man who help me yesterday and say thank you Aunt Petunia." The boy before her said again. Eyes towards the ground as he did so. Vernon and she had taught him well, a freak shouldn't look good, normal, people in the eye when they spoke after all. Petunia Dursley nodded slowly, that was what she had thought he had said. Her mind sped up, a thousand separate thoughts clambering for her attention. Her initial impulse was to deny his request, she would never be able to live it down if her nephew did some kind of freakishness near someone else.

That being said that awful boy had said something years ago about there being a special squad of freaks that would remove the memories of people that happened in front of. She hadn't given it much thought over the years but that would explain why none of the strange things that happened around Har- Her Nephew were ever commented on by the school. Oh the acts themselves were but how they happened seemed to be a complete mystery to the teachers, even if they claimed to be standing right in front of Harr- Her Nephew when it happened.

Petunia refused to use the freak's name in her thoughts. It humanised him, she couldn't have that. Until the freakishness was stamped out of him then he wasn't a real person, he was dangerous.

Add to that the fact Miss Taylor from next door had seen the boy's injury yesterday and asked about it, Petunia was tempted to allow it. She was reasonably certain the other freaks would stop anyone remembering any freak things the boy did. Plus she could tell Lyn that the boy had gone back to the man who had helped him to say thank you. Let her neighbor know that the delinquent boy she was raising had finally started to act like a responsible member of society, going to say thank you to people who helped him instead of brushing it off like his lout of a father.

If everything went well it was quite possible that she could spin this story so that people finally knew that her long hard hours of helping the boy were finally playing off. He was becoming a real member of society, besides she knew of the old man who had helped the boy. Shigekuni Yamamoto, a widower that had moved from Japan once his wife had died a rather stiff and polite old man who kept to himself. If the boy was seen around him, not just around him but being polite to him Petunia had no doubt she would be the talk of the town for never giving up on the boy. Giving him the rod when he needed it and making sure he grew up to be a responsible, not to mention normal, member of society.

Free of the freakishness of his parents.

Yes the more she thought about it the more she liked the idea. Yes she would have to cook lunch but that wouldn't be hard. The leftovers from yesterdays dinner would make for a fine shepherds pie and it wouldn't even take that long. Besides as long as the boy was back by sundown he would still have time to cook dinner so she didn't need to worry about that.

Petunia planned to sample some chicken schnitzels that night and for all his failings, and there were many. The boy was a very good cook, not as good as her of course, but a good cook none the less. Everyone knew food tasted better if you didn't have to cook it yourself after all, yes this could work in her favour quite well.

"Very well you can go." Petunia stated looking down at her nephew. A sneer forming on her face, it was often to hard to keep one off of her face when she was talking to him. "But be back by sundown, you still need to cook dinner." She stated, the boy kept his eyes to the floor. Just the way they had taught him and nodded once.

"Yes Aunt Petunia, thank you Aunt Petunia." And with those words Ha- The. Boy. Slipped back into the hallway and walked out the front door. Now she had only one problem left, it was a big problem to one that she had been forced to face dozens of times before. Sometimes she had defeated it, other times it had defeated her.

How did she broach the subject to Lyn Taylor without sounding like she was gloating?

XXX

Harry walked down the streets of Surry so quickly he was almost running. He wanted to get to the old man's as quickly as possible, after all one day he would learn to toss people like Dudley around like they weighed nothing at all. But the only way he could learn how to do that was if he trained hard and refined every technique he learned, old man Yamamoto had been very clear on that point.

The dark haired boy quickly passed through the park and onto Kaybald street. Harry wasn't the smartest person in his year at school but even he could remember where the old man's house was. All he had to do was look for the strange flowers, well that and he had memorised the house number, seven. Arriving before the seemingly ordinary house Harry took it in properly for the first time, last time he had seen it he had been running on autopilot.

It was an average sized house. Two stories and, at least from the outside, it appeared to be completely normal. Redish bricks two large windows at the front and an oak front door. The garden was simple just an expanse of grass that was well trimmed, underneath each window sat a garden bed with the strange flowers in them. Another garden bed containing a few different varieties, that Harry still didn't recognise, sat next to the driveway. Which had no car in it, Harry hoped that the old man was home and he hadn't turned up when Yamamoto was out.

Harry walked anxiously to the front door and lightly knocked upon it. Feeling more and more unsure of himself as he did so, the eagerness that had been so apparent in him seemingly evaporating into the air. For a few seconds Harry thought that he had indeed come when the old man was not home and was ready to settle in for a long wait, right before he heard the sound of shuffling from behind the door.

Harry stepped back as the door opened, standing framed by the entrance was the same old man who had saved him the day before. Though the clothing he was wearing was significantly different. His pants were of a strange design that Harry had never seen before but looked quite distinctly foreign. As did the clothing covering his upper body a strange black coat with what looked like a white coat of simpler make beneath it. All in all the clothing looked nothing like something that the Dursley's would approve of.

Yet another point in the old man's favour as far as Harry was concerned.

"Well come in boy, take off your shoes before walking on the wood." Yamamoto stated turning around and striding away, Harry didn't waste any time in taking his own shoes off and following. The old man strode through the house with purpose Harry trailing along behind him, his shoes and socks sitting next to the door. He was quickly ushered through the same room he had sat inside last time and out into the backyard. It was at this point that Harry James Potter realised that the old man who had offered to teach him owned a very large property. Something he knew after growing up with Uncle Vernon meant that he was also likely quite well off.

The yard was large, easily twice the size of the Dursley's. For the most part it was just made up of grass, with an upraised wooden deck running around the edge of the area. There were four garden beds, each one quite small, at the four corners of the grass. Each containing yet more flowers Harry was quite unfamiliar with. The old man barely broke his stride stepping down onto the grass, Harry following with a small hop.

"Now then, today we shall start with the most basic of the basics." Yamamoto stated his deep voice almost sounding like the rumble of thunder. "Your stance is incredibly important, it is a position that will dictate how you can attack and how you can defend, it is the foundation upon which all other teachings must come." The old man stated as he put his arms up, Harry had to admit he had never seen anything quite like it before. Every now and then he had been able to sneak a look at boxing on the telly when Uncle Vernon was watching it. So he had an idea on what Yamamoto meant by stance but Harry couldn't see anything similar between the way the old man was standing and the way a boxer would stand.

The old man had placed his right foot behind him, while his arms came up he made no fist. Instead his hands were both open his elbows were near his chest while his open hands fingers extended just above the top of his head. His right arm had it's palm facing forward while his left, while the fingers pointed straight up, had the pinky finger facing forward. It was, in all honesty, quite peculiar and something Harry had never seen before.

"This is the Meaba no Kame," Yamamoto stated looking at the boy next to him. "Though you can not see it due to my pants my knees are also slightly bent. This reduces the amount of damage they will take should they be struck in addition to making it easier to move. Any questions?" The old man asked looking at Harry with his brown eyes.

"Maeba no Kame?" Harry asked his eyes flickering to the floor as he did so before he forced his head back up to look into the old man's eyes. Yamamoto hadn't taken him looking at the ground when he spoke yesterday to be something good and Harry seriously doubted he had changed that position in the last twenty four hours.

"Yes, Maeba no Kame." He responded with a nod, the old man's beard swinging closer to the floor with the action. A weathered hand coming up to stroke it slowly. "It is Japanese, the same language spoken in my homeland. Maeba no Kame means Front of the Wing. It is also called The Stance of Absolute Defence. It is a stance most meant to protect you and allow you to avoid being hurt, a perfect fit for you I would say." Yamamoto stated brown eyes looking down at Harry once more, he nodded as if making a decision.

"From now on you may call me Sir, Sensei or Yamamoto-Sensei." The old man added looking down at the boy before him. Harry knew his luck wouldn't hold forever but he had to at least try and see how many questions he could ask before Yamamoto got fed up and wouldn't let him ask anymore. After all he had already let him ask more questions than the Dursley's did so Harry really did want to know exactly how much he could ask.

"Um Sir, Yamamoto-Sensei?" Harry started, the word felt foreign on his tongue. It certainly wasn't an English word he knew that much for sure. "What exactly does Sensei mean?" He inquired tilting his head to the side, the word still felt and sounded strange to him. The old man regarded him for a second before he shook his head, Harry felt his stomach sink. So he would only be allowed one question then, well at least it was one more than either Petunia or Vernon would let him ask.

"Sensei means teacher in Japanese. There is no real English equivalent but in Japan one is referred to by honourifics. They are respectful ways to address someone, when one is teaching you Sensei is the appropriate honourific to address them by." Yamamoto said after a moment looking down at the boy in front of him, "Do you understand Harry?" He asked the boy who nodded once with a happy look on his face, one that confused Yamamoto a little. He could understand a younger child looking extremely happy when their questions were answered but an older one, that simply didn't make sense.

"Yes, Yamamoto-Sensei!" Harry said with a smile, the old man nodded in return before slipping back into his stance.

"Now then copy the way I am standing." The old man stated looking at the boy next to him. Harry quickly assumed the stance he had been told to, Yamamoto broke his own stance and walked around him once. "Not bad for a first attempt," The old man admitted with a nod. "First I want your right elbow closer to your body and your left hand on it's side more." He barked out, voice changing from a deep timbre to a a vastly sharper one as Harry quickly attempted to change his stance the way he was being ordered to.

"Good now, bring your right foot closer to your body and turn your toes out so they face that wall." Yamamoto continued pointing off at the wall to Harry's right. Harry struggled to complete the commands as fast as they were called out. "Next bend your knees, no not that much, just an inch no more! Once that's done I want you to distribute your weight try to put fifty percent of your weight on your front leg and the other fifty on your back leg so you can move easily." Harry was barely able to keep up with the commands as they were barked at him.

The old man walked around him once more, nodding every now and then. His weathered hands reached in, slightly adjusting Harry's legs and arms as well as twisting his torso slightly so he was on a slight angle, his left arm further forward than his right. Yamamoto looked at him once more before nodding, a small smile visible through his beard.

"A little stiff but good for your first attempt." The old man stated, walking before Harry and mirroring his stance. "Now we will begin with some basic blocks for punches. Most assailants, especially younger ones, will make use mostly of their arms and neglect their legs. That is why it is important to focus on learning how to block strikes from ones arms first." Yamamoto continued before he began moving his left arm above his head his pinky finger still pointing away from him. The arm changed from it's initial position instead creating a diagonal wall above the old man's head.

"This is called Age-Uke, or Rising Block in English." Yamamoto stated, already anticipating his students next question. The old man added teaching his new student Japanese in addition to combat. It would take a long time but learning a new language was always helpful. Not only that but when Harry finally got the basics of it down he would no longer have to explain the names of techniques, well at least for the most part. So far he'd had to do it twice and it was already starting to annoy him.

"By having your arm above your head with the bone pointing up and away from you. It is possible to stop strikes from above with relative ease, though you will have to be conditioned, it is one of the most basic blocks and one of the three you will be learning today." Yamamoto stated looking at the boy before him with intense eyes. The old man was almost surprised by the intensity of the green eyes staring back at him, the boy really was something. Still it was easy to be enthusiastic on day one, time would tell if he stayed that way.

"The next block of the three is the Soto Ude-Uke or Outside Forearm Block." Yamamoto continued moving his right arm. First from it's guard position until it was on the right side of his face, it almost looked like the man had his hand in the air waiting to ask a question from an non-existent teacher. Except his arm was bent at the elbow so that his fingers pointed straight up into the air and his forearm was protecting the side of his head.

"This block is meant to stop attacks aimed at the side of your head instead of coming down at more of an angle like the Age-Uke." Yamamoto stated, a contemplative look crossed the old man's face for a second before he came to a decision and nodded. "Actually Harry you will be learning four blocks today." Yamamoto stated as his right arm cut back in front of his body pinky turned to face the left as if the old man was trying to smack something out of his way using his forearm. "The reason for that is because the Soto Ude-Uke transitions into the Shuto-Uke, Knife Hand Block," Yamamoto translated for the sake of his student. "Incredibly easily," The old man stated before moving his right hand back to it's original guard position.

"The Shuto-Uke has two forms, the one you just saw me use was the inward version. It is meant to block attacks not aimed at you from above or to the side but rather that are attempting to strike you head on. It diverts the force of the blow away from you making the attack miss, the outward version is much the same." Yamamoto continued as his left arm cut out away from his body as if intercepting a blow. "How ever unlike the inward version which is meant for reacting quickly to a blow. The outward version is used on blows you have seen coming, to divert them away from your body before they become a real threat." The old man smiled slightly at Harry, taking a little bit of the edge off his apprehension of learning so much so quickly.

"The final block you will learn today is Juji-Uke." Yamamoto stated as his two upraised arms crossed over his head making an X, quite similar to the scar on his head. "The X Block in English, it is meant to stop extremely heavy blows from above. Usually delivered by someone who has a lot more weight than the blocker." The old man stated as recognition shone in Harry's eyes, in truth every block he had been taught had two separate forms. One that was taught openly and one that was hidden and only became obvious through later training.

The Juji-Uke was the best example of that. While the block could indeed stop heavy blows from above, very few people actually threw strikes that went straight down. The X Block really showed it's value in it's hidden use. By altering the way it was performed slightly a skilled user could use it to trap an opponents limb close to their body, pulling them off balance. Combing that with the right stepping method and a knife hand strike, like the ones taught when learning the Shuto-Uke, and they could combine into a very quick and very effective take down.

"For now I want you to practice those movements, while I demonstrate what you will be learning next." Yamamoto stated, the boy dutifully began running through the blocks. There were a few small problems that they would iron out in time but for a first go it certainly wasn't bad. "Now the other thing you need to learn is proper footwork, there are two ways to reduced the power of an attack. Move towards it by charging in and destroying it's impact point or by moving to the side in order to do the same. If you move forward you can set up more devastating counter attacks however in exchange you put yourself at greater risk. Moving away lessens the risk on you but also lessens the chance for a counter attack." Yamamoto explained as he walked around Harry arms moving in occasionally before he came to rest in front of his student, who kept doing the blocks without complaint.

"However neither of those are things we will worry about right away." The old man added taking his stance before Harry once more. "The first and most important bit of footwork you're going to learn is how to side step." Yamamoto stated and proceeded to do exactly that, keeping his stance the old man moved to the right. Putting him slightly off line to where he had been before, then doing the same to the left to return to his original position.

"There's nothing fancy about it but it is the most important bit of footwork a beginner can learn." The old man stated. The way he said it made Harry very much aware that as far as Yamamoto was concerned his words were as true as it was possible to be. It was like saying that water was wet, an immutable truth that wouldn't change just because you wanted it to.

"The reason it is so important." The old man continued executing a block across his body as he moved to the left, his arm swinging to the right. "Is because it is the most simple movement to keep you body out of danger from head on attacks. By blocking to the left and stepping to the right, so long as you time it correctly, it is possible to not only push an attack away from you but completely change your position relative to your opponents. It might not be by much but in the split second it takes your enemy to reorient towards you once more you open up a world of options for yourself. Do you understand Harry?" Yamamoto questioned, Harry really didn't want to disappoint the old man but he really didn't fully understand.

"Sorry Sir," Harry said, eyes flickering from Yamamoto to the ground and back again. "But not really." He admitted and braced himself ready for the old man's anger. To Harry's surprise he simply felt a weight settle on the top of his head. Green eyes looked up the old man's hand was resting quite lightly on the top of his head before it ruffled his hair. Not that Harry's hair really needed any ruffling, it was practically sticking up on all angles as it was.

"At least you are honest." Yamamoto stated looking down at the boy before him, he wasn't smiling but Harry thought he could see approval in the old man's brown eyes. "Do not be bothered by it. I doubt any child who had just started could fully grasp exactly what I meant, do not concern yourself. Understanding will come with time and with it, wisdom." Yamamoto stated before looking down at the boy before him once more, "Now are you ready to continue with your exercises?" He questioned getting an uncertain smile and a nod of the head in return.

"Yes Sir!" Harry said, moving his arms into blocking positions once more. It was as he began the process again that Yamamoto realised something, something he felt he should have asked earlier.

"Boy, what is your full name?" He questioned, there was still something about the boy and his lightning bolt shaped scar that nagged at him. It irked him like a half forgotten memory, maybe hearing the boy's full name would help him work it out.

"Harry Potter, Sir." The boy answered as he moved into his stance once more. Yamamoto nodded, the boy had given him his full name it was only fair he did the same.

"My name is Shigekuni Yamamoto it is nice to meet you. Now back to your blocks." The old man stated getting a nod out of the boy before him.

"Yes, Yamamoto-Sensei." Harry answered getting him to nod, now where had he heard the name Potter before?

Round Two: Time