Chapter 3
I Do Not Own Harry Potter or there would have been a lot more Slash and the movies would have been rated R.
Nor do I own any songs or lyrics that may be used in this fanfiction be it in this one or future chapters, some of these songs will have come out after this story's time period, so don't be surprised if a song from the 2000's is referenced.
There will be mentions a depictions of past child abuses as well as Male on Male homosexual relationships later in the story which may be a ways away (you have been warned...again)
'Thought'
'Sign Language/Written '(Harry speech)
"Speech"
~Song
Minerva stocked her way through the corridors of Hogwarts coming up to the gargoyle statue that concealed the headmasters office. She stated the password before striding up the staircase and into the office.
"Ah, Minerva what a nice surprise, what brings you by this evening? Would you care for a lemon drop or some tea perhaps?" Albus Dumbledore asked, looking at her over half-moon spectacles and wearing bright blue and neon green robes.
"No. I would like an explanation for this" she said sharply, her Scottish accent more noticeable in her anger and dropping the letter on the desk in front of him.
"You said he would be protected and informed when we left him there with those… those muggles!" she snapped, glaring with narrowed eyes as he picked up the letter and started to scan its contents.
"Does that seem informed to you? Imagine thinking his Hogwarts letter some kind of prank." she seethed cooling down at bit and saying the last bit too herself. At the same time thinking how a certain set of red heads would do something like send a fake letter of admittance to an imaginary school.
The twinkle in the headmaster eye's dimed as he read the letter minutely before coming back at the end of the letter a bit. He still however wore a small frown.
"I would have thought his aunt would have explained about magic and Hogwarts to him. Her home being the safest place for him to grow up and have a normal childhood." He knew Petunia had never been close with her sister but she would no doubt agreed to care for her child. He had thought that there might have been a chance she might be distant, maybe even a bit resentful towards him but she would have at least taken care of her nephew. In fact if her family had been a bit harsh to him he would have been all but assured to come to Hogwarts.
But to his knowledge she had cared for the boy, Arabella had even said that they had gotten him into one of the top schools in the muggle world, surley they must care. But why had they not informed him about magic?
"Well it seems that someone will have to go and rectify this." he said 'Harry Potter must return to the wizarding world, he is the only one who can stop Tom'
"I'll send Hagrid immediately to-" "No." Minerva cut him off before continuing on herself.
"I'll go tomorrow, he said he wanted proof and Hagrid is not allowed to do magic. I don't think sending a nearly 11ft man for him in the middle of the night will be the best first impression of the magical world. I believe a muggleborn orientation packet will be needed."
"Ah yes," He reached into his desk and took out a small key. "I believe you will also need this for young Harrys vault so he can buy his supplies."
She took the offered key. "Yes, I have some paperwork to get done and then tomorrow I'll go deal with this... this injustice." She said turning to leave the office of the colorfully robed headmaster.
"Well I won't keep you and do tell me how it goes." He said offering a kind grandfatherly smile.
"Yes, fine." she said before exiting the room.
Muttering under her breath about 'horrible muggles' and 'imagining Hogwarts some sort of prank.'
Harry slowly opened his eyes and leaned up in his bed, yawning with a stretch, a large smile slowly breaking out on his face. Today was the day. He would be going back to his summer school but more importantly, he'd be getting away from the Dursley's.
He grabbed his glasses from the bed side table; they were a pair of black and silver horn rimmed glasses that he had been given after his dorm mates had broken his old pair during his first year at Faciendo. The mother of one of the boys had been outraged when the school told her what her son, had been part of, ganging up and bullying a little boy four years their junior. She had driven to the school from the families home in Harlow, to reprimand her son. She had also insisted on replacing Harrys glasses when she found out he didn't have a second pair. She had taken him into town to the ophthalmologist when he told her he didn't know his prescription, and had even picked out his new glasses.
He looked at the clock, it said it was a quarter passed five and he had told his aunt he would be leaving at 5AM.
He quickly got up and changed out of his pajamas and into his day clothes, consisting of black leggings, some old ratty trainers and a black and white long sleeve baseball t-shirt with his school logo on the bottom right corner, the logo was the schools name on a stream of sheet music that was coming out of a paint brush, in front of the drama masks of comedy and tragedy.
Whenever he would go shopping for clothes, rare as it was, he would often get flexible and easy to move in items he could wear for dance practice, he wasn't the only boy at his school that would wear leggings as casual day clothes. He also had a fairly large collection of shirts with his school logo on them. He liked them because he could buy them in the school itself and rather cheaply at that.
He stuffed his sleepwear back into his messenger bag and when down stairs.
In the kitchen he decided to have a quick breakfast of toast, a banana, and a glass of milk before heading out the front door. He had briefly entertained the idea of putting a laxative in the juice pitcher but decided against it.
Once outside he looked around at all the identical houses of Privet Drive. It was still dark out but you could see the sky becoming lighter in the distance.
As he started down the drive way he looked at parts of his aunts' garden and patches of the front lawn that were still dead. Before he had left the last time he was here, the summer between his second and third year, he had partially frozen the soil underneath parts of the lawn so the grass and plants would die.
He knew his aunt obsessed over her garden and his uncle took great pride in having the best yard in the neighborhood, so had taken great delight in taking it away from them. That summer he had chanced bring some of his books back to their house with him. Normally he left everything but his clothes in a hiding space underneath a bush near the library. His first day back his uncle had confiscated them and then that evening he and Dudley had burned them in the fire place, so Harry had decided to get back at his relatives. He had been a bit surprised when he first got back, to see that those patches of the lawn were still dead.
Harry had only just started on his way to the library; the day before he had the librarian help him place a call to have a taxi pick him up there at 6am, when he heard two people calling him.
"Harry?!"
"Harry? Harry dear is that you?"
He turned around and smiled when he sees it was Mrs. Kyrim and her 13 year old daughter, April. Harry had been in the same class with April when he had first got moved ahead in primary school. The mother and daughter where both wearing track suits and he assumed they have been out jogging.
Back when Harry had been bumped ahead in to year three Harry had started to help other students, mainly by pointing out misspelled words or looking over math problems and showing them were they when wrong or sometimes even just letting them copy the answers for homework. He had focused mainly on the kids that either lived near him or that had mothers who socialized around with his aunt. He had figured if he could be known to their children as someone smart and nice enough to help then, they might start to tell their parents about him and they would be less likely to believe the story's about him being a vandal and a delinquent that his aunt and uncle would try and spread about him.
It had worked pretty well and April Kyrim had been the best person to make it work. Not only was she nice to be around and not get upset when someone younger than her corrected and helped her, her mother was one of the women in the neighborhood that often attended his aunts tea parties. April was very chatty but a sweet girl, she had liked that Harry was in her class, 'Because he's so small and cute', had been her main reason behind this, and liked him even more when he started to help with school work. She had chatted animatedly, to her parents about her classes 'cute little friend', that her improved marks in class had been because of him. In truth she seemed to see Harry as something more akin to a class pet than a fellow student but she had loved having him in class and never did anything to discourage him, in fact she would often share some of her lunch with him.
When her mother had found out that Petunia Dursley's, trouble making, son of no good drunks' nephew, was in fact the same 'cute little friend' that helped her daughter with homework and didn't talk, she had no reservations about asking:
"If your nephew is so troublesome and ill behaved, then why is he in a class, two years ahead and helping my daughter with her class work?"
In the middle of one of his aunts' tea parties with the other ladies, and after the scandal last year with Mr. Arnold, Petunia had been hard pressed to answer that in a way that made Harry look bad, and didn't make her look worse.
It hadn't been long before his relatives realized that they couldn't just make up lies about him and have people take them as facts.
Unknown to Petunia, Harry had also slipped a few anonymous notes about her habit, of watching and eavesdropping on the neighbors, to some of the people in the neighborhood. Turns out, that little push was all it took to get people to be a bit more observant and for the residents of Privet Drive to start catching on to her invasive little endeavors.
"Oh Harry it is you," April chirped in delight with a smile on her face as she stopped in front of him panting lightly. She was a good few inches taller than him with dirty blond hair which was currently in a high ponytail and soft features.
"Hello dear," Mrs. Kyrim greeted as she came up next April, the women looked like an older version of her daughter except her hair was cut into a short bob and she had brown eyes, whereas April had inherited her father's green orbs.
"This is a nice surprise but what are you doing here? Your aunt said you had to go to summer classes because you were having trouble keeping up with the work."
Harry took on a confused expression, though internally he was brisling at the lie about his school performance.
Harry had never had any trouble with any aspect or subject of his educational performance. Because of his eidetic memory he had no problems in classes that were based around certain subjects, like math, science and history, where one only needed to remember facts. Mathematic formulas never changed, one plus one would always equal two, and neither did historical facts, Christopher Columbus set sail from Spain in 1492, or scientific facts, there were three stages of the water cycle; solid, liquid, gas, so all he ever really needed to do was read his class books or ones that where related to the subject. As for subjects such as English Language and Literature, Harry had always seemed to have a deeper understanding of the things he would read. After having spent so much of his, admittedly short, time in primary school reading in the library, Harry had gotten very good at finding hidden messages, almost knowing what the author felt as he wrote.
All in all Harry was very broad in his scholastic abilities. He already knew most, if not all, of the materials being taught in his Math and English classes and had in fact already taken several A-levels. The first in History and two in science, Biology and Chemistry, the rest in Foreign Languages in Chinese, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Latin, Russian and Spanish, he had not taken the classes, some of them not being taught at his school, he had chosen to self-study. But he had sat the exams when they were held, even having to go to an examination centre for a few of them and passed them all. Because he couldn't speak he focused mainly on how to read and write in each of the languages. He could only fluently understand French, German, Russian and Spanish because there had been a few students and teachers that were fluent in those languages and would speak to him in them so he could get a better grasp of it. The rest he wasn't entirely sure about as he didn't know anyone whom were well versed enough in the other languages to really test his fluency with.
In fact if he focused and put his mind to it, and focused purely on academic studies and stopped all pursuit of artistic subjects such as music and dance, subjects that required time and practice, he could probably have all of his A-levels done and be on his way to a university before the end of the upcoming school year.
So having learned that, of all the excuses about his absence for the summer that his aunt could have come up with, she had chosen to lie and take a shot at his academics he had been very irritated
He took out a note pad and a pen to wright out a response to the women.
'No. I signed up for a summer dance school that my academy offers in London. I'm only here because there was an accident in the building and some of us had to go home for a bit so they could repair. I'm keeping up in my school work just fine.' he wrote out.
"Oh that's good, I found it a bit hard to believe you were having trouble in school. Why you used to help my April here back in primary." "Mum!" The older women only chuckled at the slightly embarrassed out burst from her daughter.
Harry hoped that she would spread it around to the neighborhood. His aunt would be caught in her own idiotic lie.
"So dear will you be staying long" She asked the green eyed boy.
He shook his head and wrote out another answer. 'No, I'm actually on my way to be picked up now.'
"I see, well then I guess it's a good thing me and mum get up early to go for our runs then?" April asked with a smile before taking on a thoughtful expression and continuing. "Oh so I guess you didn't know that Mr. Arnold and Miss. Eddie got married last spring," at that Harry shook his head; he hadn't heard anything about Mr. Arnold in a few years.
"Yha he's now the vice principal of Stonewall High, though Ms. Eddie ...err I mean Mrs. Arnold is still teaching at the primary school." She explained. Mr. Arnold had been pretty well known at their primary school, being one of the two male teachers there.
Harry was glad to hear that Mr. Arnold was doing well. He had been a bit worried when he didn't come back when he went back to primary.
"Well it was good to see you again dear; we won't keep you any longer" Mrs. Kyrim said as she started to turn in the other direction April following. Harry turned and continued walking the short distance to the public library.
Once he had reached the outside of the grey stone building it was 5:30am and he had another half hour to wait, so he sat on the front step of the library to wait.
He looked down at the ground and seen a rock sitting next to him, he picked it up and held it in his hands. It was pretty big, able to take up the entirety of his palm; he placed his other hand over it and started to channel his pow...magic. It took a bit more energy to do anything that didn't have anything to do with liquid but this wasn't hard by any means, the rock started to shift, the rough edges became smooth and straitened and the entire shape started to alter.
The process only took about 5 seconds and when it was done the rock now resting in his palm was in the shape of a three dimensional 5 point star. It was still as heavy as it had previously been but it was smooth as marble now.
He picked up the newly formed star by one of its points and slowly turned it in his hand, as he did this he focused more on his magic and watched as the grey stars color started to lighten and shifted into a bright golden yellow.
Harry had started doing this when he was still trying to discover what other non-water based powers he had. He had started trying to change the shapes and colors of things made from different materials. He had found that aside from metal; changing the shape of pretty much anything was simple and easy. Once he had changed a paint brush into a miniature guitar, he had painted it and then given it to Cyrille as a birthday present.
As he sat waiting for his cab he entertained himself by changing the shape and color of the rock. It was still pretty early and aside for the few cars zooming by there was still practically no one out and around so he didn't have to worry about being seen.
It was a little passed 5:56am when his taxi drove up to the library. He stood up and placed the now blue raindrop shaped rock on the ground, it might be a cool find for someone about to check out a book, and approached the car.
"Where to lad?" the driver asked as Harry slid into the back seat. Harry took out a piece of paper with the address of the summer school and handed it to the man.
"Alright we should be there in about an hour or so. " the driver told him after looking at the address before backing out and driving off.
One hour and fifteen minutes later Harry found himself sitting on his bed in his summer dorm room with a wide smile. The room was small and there was still a light sent of paint in the air from the renovation but he was still so happy to be back. He had missed this place so much for the last few days, and there was something he had been dying to do.
He reached down under his bed and pulled up a black case, opening it to reveal his violin. Harry could play a variety of instruments; the cello, piano, guitar, saxophone, clarinet, trumpet, recorder, flute, oboe, French horn, harmonica, bongos, accordion and the harp. But he had held a lot of sentimental value for the violin.
It had been playing it that had gotten him into Faciendo Artes and subsequently, away from the Dursleys.
He looked out the window and raised the instrument to his chin he then brought the bow down along the strings and started to play one of the first classical pieces he had learned, "Bagatelle No. 25 in A Minor (Für Elise)"
Despite the fact that the composition that he was playing was over a century old, the music that flowed out and filled the room seemed like something new and fresh. The song was the same but it sounded like it was being played properly for the first time.
The bow flew across the strings as he continued on; trying to put more of the feeling of happiness he felt at being back and away from his relatives into the melody. As he continued to play, he could almost feel his joy seeping into the music around him and making an almost tangible presence of the beautiful feeling he had at that moment.
From the first time he played music Harry had loved the feeling of it, the way the sound would come out at his touch the way he could control the way the rhythm quickened or slowed. But most of all he had loved the feeling that music, his music, could instill in people. When he played he would try and convey feelings and emotions into the melody. Show people through the sound what he felt and then try and make them feel it as well.
He had progressively started to quicken the pace of the song and as he reached a crescendo; he came to a smooth stop. He then pulled the bow along the strings one last time to finish the song, much slower than he had before and brought the song to an end.
He breathed out a sigh and then jumped a bit when he heard clapping from behind him. When he turned around he seen Ms. Stepanova standing in his open door way. He had been so engrossed in his music he hadn't noticed her.
"Your talent on that instrument never fails to amaze me, no matter how many times I hear it" She stated with a minuscule smile on her face.
'Thank you, is anyone else here yet?' He signed back.
He had been the first one of the overnight students to arrive and the day students didn't come until the schools classes started at 8am.
"No I don't think anyone else will show up until the start of class."
'What will we be doing?'
"Today we are going to go over a full, on stage, run-through of the show and work out any flaws. Tomorrow we will have a dress rehearsal and Saturday we will have our performance." she informed him.
"You and the rest of the Faciendo students do not have much in the performance but I expect nothing less than all you can give, is that understood?" She asked sternly.
The summer program for the students who didn't attend the academy would practice and be taught to perform in two performances, one at the end of July and one at the end of August. The Faciendo students would be performing as well, but they only danced for the final closing routine of the end of July show and they didn't even participate in the end of August. For them the last month of the program was more for them to explore creatively with the help of the teachers and were even given the option of choreographing an original dance.
'Yes, I never give anything less than my best.' He reasoned with a look of seriousness that seemed too old for his face.
She gave an approving nod before her face softened form the strict no-nonsense expression she wore when speaking of her subject to one of curiosity looking at the paining on the easel in the corner.
"Oh, is this new?" She asked gesturing towards the painting. "I don't remember seeing this one."
'No, I finished it before we had to leave.' He informed her.
The painting its self was a beautiful depiction of four people together, two men and two women all somewhere in their late teens or early twenties. The first women was very pretty and had slightly curly long light reddish-blonde hair that fell to just below her shoulder blades, she had a full-figure and a kind warm smile on her lips as she looked at the other three with gentle honey color eyes. She wore what looked to be a yellow medieval time's peasants dress with a black corset and a crown made of yellow and red wild flowers. She was sitting down braiding blue wild flowers into the long strait black hair of the other women. The second woman was slender and had a thin beautiful face with high cheek bones; she wore a silver circlet around her forehead. Her shiny inky black hair was done in a high pony tail on the back of her head with a trail of blue flowers still being braided down it. She was wearing the same style of dress as the red-haired women only it was a deep blue with long bell sleeves and a white corset. She had a small amused smile and a glint in her intelligent dark brown eyes as she watched the man over the chest board they were playing on in front of her. The man had long silky black hair down to his shoulders and sharp aristocratic features with a sharp chin and nose. He wore a deep green tunic over his lean body that came down to his knees with silver fastenings down the collar and chest, he had a crown of dark purple flowers on his head and a silver chain around his neck that disappeared down his collar. He had a focused expression looking down on the chest board in front of him, a calculating gleam in his silver eyes and sly smirk on his lips. The last man was well-built with red hair that seemed to flare out around his head like a mane with stubble around his jaw; he had a broad friendly smile along with daring green eyes. He too wore a tunic, his bright crimson red and came down to his thighs, on his head he had a crown of white and pink flowers. He was kneeling down on one knee with a hand clapped on the other man's shoulder and with the other he was setting down some blue wild flowers for the red-haired women. The four of them were outside on the grass under a tree overlooking a lake and seemed to be enjoying the sunny cloudless day and company of friends, in the background on a cliff across the lake there looked to be a building under construction.
'I'm planning on offering it to The Gallery' Harry informed his teacher
The Pablo Gale Art Museum and Gallery, or more commonly known as "The Gallery" to the people of Faciendo Artes, was an art gallery that was owned by a very wealthy art aficionado, Cyrus Arvin, which was always on the lookout for new pieces for display or purchase. The Gallery would often look to Faciendo for new up and coming artists and Harry had their attention even before he had started at the academy.
Cyrus Arvin had been the one to judge the nationwide school art competition that Harry had won in primary school; his painting had been on display in The Gallery ever since and Harry had been on their unofficial 'Artist To Watch' list. There were a few other students at the academy that also had gotten works in as well but Harry currently had a record of eight pieces, not counting the one he made in primary, on display there.
"Oh well, I am no art expert so my opinion on this might not mean much, but I believe this is more than qualified to be on display there." She encouraged. "Will you allow this one to be printed, if they accept it and offer?'
'No, I only want to see if they will put it up.'
Depending on the artist (or owner in the case of a deceased artist) and The Gallery's curator an art piece like a painting or photograph might be allowed to be printed into multiple copies or if the artist chooses a limited number of copies and soled, with a cut going to the Gallery and an amount going to the artist. Out of the eight paintings Harry had submitted as a student, he only allowed one to be printed.
"Well, I am sure they will. I'll see you in class." she said as she turned to leave.
With a nod he turned back to the window and prepared to play another song.
Minerva strode down the street she remembered from ten years ago. Her face soured as she approached the same cookie cutter house of those awful muggles she had observed all those years ago and knocked on the door. Petunia Dursley, looking older and even more like a hoarse, opened the door.
"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here to speak to Mr. Harry Potter." She said in a neutral but cold voice.
Petunias face immediately morphed into a scowl when she heard the witch's words.
"No! We agreed to put a stop to that freakishness when we were forced to take him in!" She ranted. "We couldn't stop him from cheating his way into that art school, but that is where he will stay. We will not have him going to yours and learn to be a bigger freak!" She had progressive gotten louder before slamming the door.
"Well, I never" Minerva huffed, scowling at the door. 'I told Albus they were the worse sort of muggles to leave him with, blood relatives or not. Merlin knows what the boy might be like because of them' She thought to herself.
"Excuse me?" She heard someone ask as she when to knock on the door again.
She turned around to see a green eyed girl with dirty blond hair watching her from the sidewalk, looking uncertain about talking to the strangely dressed women.
"Sorry to interrupt but I heard Mrs. Dursley umm… scream? Something about a school and you say something about Harry Potter. Are you looking for him?" The girl asked still looking a bit hesitant.
"Yes I am, I'm a teacher at a private school for the gifted and I had wanted to speak with him about attending. Are you a..friend of his?" She told the girl, keeping to the cover story for Hogwarts in the muggle world.
"Oh, I see." The girl said, her eyes lighting up as if she suddenly understood something. There had been a few school representatives that had come to speak to Harry back in primary school. "And sort of, we used to be classmates." She said in way of explaining the question asked.
"Are you the drama teacher then?" She asked looking at the witches robes and pointed hat, thinking it was some kind of costume. Not waiting for an answer she continued on.
"Well I'm sorry but he's not here. I ran into him on his way to be picked up this morning; he said he would be going away to a summer program and would only be in town for a short while" The girl told her.
That had been a surprise. She hadn't thought when his letter said he wouldn't be in the same place that the boy would be leaving town, and so soon.
"Do you happen to know where, Ms...?"
"April, and only that he said it was in London and it was a dance program sponsored by his school, Faciendo Artes Academy. They should know" The girl, now named April, told her.
"Well thank you for the information Ms. April." She thanked primly in the same way she would dismiss one of her students.
"You're welcome, good luck getting him to go to your school. "April said, throwing the last bit over her shoulder as she started to walk off.
Minerva was momentarily confused by that last statement but brushed it off before throwing a notice-me-not-charm over herself before turning on the spot and apparating to an alley she knew was near the Leaky Cauldron.
Once she landed she took out her wand and muttered a Point-Me spell. She had had to follow it for about two hours before coming to a stop outside a building that read "Madame Eden's Dance Studio."
She walked into the building and seen that she was now in a large bright reception room. It was empty of people except for a young lady behind a long counter who appeared to be reading a magazine. Minerva started to walk towards the women behind the counter who had looked up at the sound of her shoes on the hardwood floor.
"Can I help you?" The receptionist asked once she was standing in front of the counter.
"Yes, I'm here to speak to a student who should be attending here" She answered with a snap in her voice that was not needed. She had not liked the unexpected two hour walk but without knowing exactly where she was going she couldn't apparate to a closer walking distance.
"And what exactly is your relation to this student?" Came a Russian accent from the left.
Minerva turned to see a blonde woman in a black ballet dress with a stern expression walking down a flite of stairs to the left of the receptions desk. She was beautiful and walked with straight perfect posture, and had a stern yet graceful air about her.
"I'm here to offer a position at Hogwarts School for the Gifted." She told the other women, using the schools cover name.
"Oh, would this student happen to be Harry Potter." She asked her voice now sounding exasperated and a bit amused, like she was about to hear a joke that had yet to stop being funny for the hundredth time.
"Yes, can I take that to mean he is here?" She stated more than asked. At the same time wondering why she would assume it was Harry Potter. "Oh pardon me; I am Professor Minerva McGonagall deputy headmistress and ...Drama teacher of Hogwarts." She informed, using the subject that April had assumed she taught.
"I am Ms. Nina Setpanova, director of this program and ballet teacher of Faciendo Artes Academy. You are correct. But we are still having rehearsals for our performance right now; you will have to wait until they are over."
"I'm sorry but I believe this meeting takes a bit more precedence than your show."
At this Ms. Setpanova narrowed her eyes and spook in an even but very sharp voice.
"Ms. McGonagall, I understand that getting a high profile student into your school may constitute as an emergency to you. However at this time he is a student of mine both in this program and in my academy so I will not have his education and practice interrupted by something that I, as his teacher, deem can wait." She finished, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Minerva was a bit taken aback at the statement and tone but replied. "Very well, how long will it take do you know?" She knew the expression and tone the ballet teacher was using. She had used them herself when teaching, they meant 'Don't push this matter any further.'
"You will not have long to wait, Mr. Potter's group is currently rehearsing and only have a single routine, their group also has the least to work on. You may watch the rehearsal if you like." Ms. Setpanova informed her before turning smoothly on her heal and walking away further back into building wear the stage was, Minerva following.
Harry stood on the stage in his normal dance clothes, he still wore the same black leggings over a white leotard tank and black dance shoes. He stood in position with the rest of his class on stage, 10 girls and 7 boys. His hair was tied back in a ponytail; though instead of going down like normal hair it seemed to jet out in all directions, like some sort of strangely portioned multi point star on the back of his head.
(A/N: I have no idea how to choreograph a dance so sorry if this part come across strange and choppy, just know Harry is rely good.)
They all started rehearsal as the music started. (1)
~Come away with me now to the sky
Up all the hills and the sea
Far beyond where memories lie
To a place where Im free to be me.
They all started out in unisons moving from first position onwards in to a few light steps, following the music.
~Oh Gather it now one and all
No matter what folly may do
Let the stars fill your soul, when the moon cradles all
So, to yourself be true!
At the start of the new lyrics they move into a spin and more complexes step sequence. And the boys of the group, excluding him, moved to the back and stayed in third position
~The blanket of snow is all gone
Each flower waits for the sun
And the breeze bring tears of the rain
Oh Its promise for everyone.
Harry stood center stage in between the group of girls, still the smallest on stage, and together they started to dance all together. Starting with a wave of their arms and moved into fourth position , moving together they all moved into three consecutive jeté leaps.
With a spin, Harry and a few of the girls came back and let a smaller group of the girls dance in a bit of a solo.
After a short bit the rest of the girls came to the front again and continued on with the routine as Harry stayed back with the boys. The girls danced until there was an instrumental break in the song, at this point the boys, excluding Harry, came back in.
~Deep in the forest we go
Creatures are all fast asleep
With a kiss and a wink we will waken our souls
And long is the safety we'll keep.
Each of the boys took one of the girl into a lift and lifted and placed a fake kiss, at the songs word "kiss", and continued to dance In a beautiful kind of fake waltz, as the other three girls danced around them, then they seemed to come back and Harry came to the front in another jeté.
~And then, then well dance with the night
Till the sun peeking sparkle at dawn
And away we will go
Like last winter's snow
Soon our work will be done.
He move into a graceful spin after landing form the jeté and then moved into a renverse' Jump, as he move in the air he seemed to almost float. As he landed he moved into two more jetés then when into a spin, with the same amount of nearly unnatural, gravity defying, grace.
With his small stature, bright green eyes, gravity defying leaps and hair he looked like a beautiful fairy dancing around on the stage.
The rest of the group came back at the word "done" and once again, with Harry front and center they started to move all together as one in beautiful synchronicity.
~Oh gather it now one and all
No matter what folly may do
Let the stars fill your soul, when the moon cradles all
So, to yourself be true.
They all came to the front into a straight line, they each moved slowly into either third, fourth, or fifth position, as the song came to a close.
~So, to yourself be true.
They all then heard Ms. Setpanovas voice call out from the seats. "Very good, all of you. I think all we need is a bit of fine tuning on a few of you but all in all, I think you are ready for your performance. I'm very glad to see you seem to have kept up your practice over our little unexpected break."
At this Harry beamed, he had not been able to get any dance practice in when he was away.
"Will Gabi, Ashley, and Olivia pleas stay in the auditorium, I'd like to speak with you about your performance. The rest of you have the rest of the day to your selves."
The first group of students started to move off the stage as the next group, one of the day schools classes, came on to practice with another one of the summer schools teachers.
Harry grabbed his bag and was about to head back to his room when he heard Ms. Setpanova calling him. "Harry, can you please come here?"
Harry started towards his teacher and seen that she was standing with another women, as he got closer his eyes widened slightly as he noticed that this other women had power, she had magic!
Minerva was quite shocked when she had seen the rehearsal. Up until that point she had not given any thought as to why Harry Potter would be in a dance program over the summer. Her only thought had been finding him. But now after seeing that performance, no matter how short, she had started to think about it more, he was very good. The boy had been something els, she wondered if it might have been accidental magic making him glide through the air.
She had been so lost in her thought she hadn't noticed that he was now standing in front of her, a small polite smile on his lips. She couldn't help notice how much he looked like his parents, with his mother's eyes and soft features and his father's hair color and complexion, if a bit more pale.
Harry watched the women for a few moments and felt her magic, it was brighter than anyone else's he had felt even brighter than his, he wondered if maybe it was because magic matured and grow with time. After a few moments she seemed to come back to herself and introduced herself.
"Hello Mr. Potter, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, I understand you had some…doubts about our school. Well I am here to answer any questions you may have. Is there any place we may talk in private?" She directed the question to Ms. Setpanova.
"Yes, you may use my office for your meeting, Harry you know where it is."
With a nod he turned and started to lead the way.
A few minutes later the two were in the office with the door closed sitting across from one another in the chairs in front of the desk , one with cautious curiosity the other with slight disbelief.
'Just treat this like any other school that wants me to transfer' Harry reminded himself.
Taking a note pad and pencil out of his bag, he started to write out his first questions.
'Do you have any proof of this magic? Or information about your school? The letter you sent wasn't that informative.'
Clearing her throat she began. "We are sorry about that Mr. Potter. Normally for muggleborn students we send a member of staff to inform them about Hogwarts and the wizarding world the year they turn eleven. We had assumed that you would already know about the wizarding world and Hogwarts." She stated. "Hogwarts is the most prestigious school in all of magical Britain. It is a seven year boarding school that teaches young witches and wizard, such as yourself, to control your magic. You will learn many things, like this for example, or proof. " She took out her wand and turned a small glass bird on the desk into a small living blue bird.
Now Harry was a bit more interested, he hadn't doubted the possibility of magic, he had been changing a rock into various shapes and colors only that morning. But believing and seeing proof were two very different things. He gaped at the bird now hopping around on the desk for a bit before focusing again and pulling his thoughts together.
Harry considered what she had told him before responding.
As he started writing his next question Professor McGonagall watched slightly confused as to why he was responding this way. "Are you feeling well?" she asked wondering perhaps if he was sick.
He looked at her, the small polite smile he wore wavering slightly, taken aback by the seemingly random question and nodded his head.
'What's a muggleborn? And why would you think I would know anything about magic?' He wrote out as his next question
Minerva, while a bit confused about his method of communicating, maybe it was just a strange habit, answered. "We assumed your aunt would have explained about magic and Hogwarts to you. And a muggleborn is a person like your mother, born to muggels; people who do not have magic."
That had gotten Harrys full attention. Now with a conclusive frown he asked.
'Why would my aunt have told me anything about this? And what do you mean people like my mother, born to people without magic?' He had a good idea of what the answer was but he still wanted to be sure.
She looked at the new questions on the paper a bit confused before a thought struck her and she felt her anger rising. Surely the boy knew about his parents, right? But then again she wouldn't put it passed those people to keep the boy ignorant of their death the way they had seem to have done with magic.
"Mr. Potter," She started slowly, "what do you know about your parents' death?"
Harry blinked at her in surprise for a moment. He clearly did not expect that question. His face took on a more guarded expression as he picked up the pencil wrote out an answer. 'I was told, what I'm now pretty sure was a lie, about them driving drunk and crashing, I assume this is wrong.'
Minerva could not believe what she had read, he knew nothing of the truth, her lips thinned in anger and she had to stop herself from letting out a shout of rage. Those horrible people had told him that his parents, two of her favorite students, had died drunk in a car crash, the audacity. She didn't know if she was angrier at Albus or those horrid people. She was brought out of her thoughts of rage when she felt a light tap on her arm; she looked to see Harry was holding out another note and had a curious and slightly conserved expression.
'Is everything alright?' NO, everything was not; he knew nothing of who he was in the wizarding world.
"Mr. Potter I think it would go easier if you spoke." She said briskly knowing she would have to tell him about the events of that night. Her patients had started to dwindle through the day and had all but left her after what she had just read and the novelty of passing her notes was becoming a bit tiresome.
However when she said this the curious expression seemed to melt off and was replaced with an almost completely blank expression. The sudden change of mood had been so rapid she had been momentarily shocked out of her anger.
Harry lifted the pencil back to the note pad and wrote out quickly in sharp movements.
'I can't.'
He had, for a moment, started to remember when Dudley, would play that game where he would twist his arm or his leg, or would just keep hitting him and told him he wouldn't stop unless he said uncle. Dudley had broken his arm once when he was 3 playing that stupid game because he couldn't speak.
Minerva had been slightly shocked at his written response. "Are you sick right now?" She asked
'No. I just can't speak.' Was the reply she got, it was strange she couldn't help thinking, did he just not like speaking or was this some sort of eccentricity.
" I don't understand what your aversion to speech is but I do believe you will want to talk for this." She told him, her forgotten irritation now resurfacing and coming through in her voice. She then realized that was not the right thing to say, nor the tone to say it in, and was very surprised at the glare he shot her. His mouth was pursed in a straight line and his brows were slightly furrowed. His bright green eyes were burning with anger as they looked up into her own eyes. Without breaking eye contact he brought the pencil back down and wrote out another note.
'I am incapable of Speech. I have never been able to speak. I can't talk. I can't whisper, shout, or scream.'
He made sure to put emphasis on the fact that it was not a choice for him, that it wasn't a conscious decision. He started to think back to when he was young, before school, when his uncle used to show no restraint. He remembered being on the ground curled up as his uncle beat him with his belt, the buckle digging into him and the sticky feel of blood covering his back. The way he would open his mouth to try and apologize for whatever they were blaming him for, to beg for mercy, to scream out in pain, to yell for help. But no sound ever came out.
He had been diagnosed by doctors, but they could never find anything physically stopping him from speaking. Though not being a conscious decision on his part it was diagnosed as a psychological problem, only because no physical problem could be found.
The hand he was using to hold the pencil was now shaking and the other was clenched into a white knuckle fist. His breathing had become short and rapid and he still had the same glare though it seemed to have diminished in intensity a bit.
"Oh, I see. I'm sorry I was unaware, I thought you merely did not wish to speak." She apologized.
Minerva made a mental note not to comment on his inability to talk again. He seem to have inherited Lily's temper, tenfold. She had never seen that much anger on a child's face, it was very disconcerting. Although the fact that he was not capable of speech was very curious and a little worrying, how could he cast spells if he couldn't speak. Wordless casting wasn't taught until sixth year and even then it was considerably advanced.
Harry closed his eyes and focused on getting his breathing under control. After a few deep slow breaths he seemed to relax, his face softened and he opened his eyes with a small dim smile on his lips, the anger from the moment before gone.
He put the pencil back to the note pad. 'You were saying something about my parents?' He wrote out obviously wanting to move on.
Seeing the shift in topic and knowing what she would have to tell him Minerva cleared her throat and when into the story leading up to that night. She told him about the war they were in, about his parents taking up the fight and how they had to go into hiding. She reluctantly told him about how someone they all thought was a friend ended up being a trader, and how they had sold his parents and he out to the Dark Loard. Then finally about how his parents were attacked and how he had been the only survivor and had been credited with vanquishing 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'
Harry sat through the story with a neutral expression, just taking in the information.
'Well at least now I know where the scar came from.' He thought to himself before writing out his response.
'Okay. As informative as this history lesson is, I think we have gotten off track.'
"Mr. Potter?"
'I still know nothing about your school, what classes are offered, or how I'm supposed to pay for it. I think you can imagine my aunt is not going to help.'
"Oh yes," Minerva said after reading the note, now remembering the reason she was there as well as the things she had brought. "This should prove helpful, information wise." She said handing over the orientation packet.
"And as for tuition," Here she took out the key the headmaster had given her. "Your parents left you a very sizable trust for your education. The Potter's were a fairly wealthy family. This is your vault key, it's what you use to withdraw money from Gringots the wizarding bank." She explained handing over the key as well.
Harry was a bit surprised at this. He had never believed any of the stories his relatives had told him about his parents, but he did believe that they were dead or if not that, then he would never see them. He had stopped thinking about them years ago. When he was very little he used to imagine what they would be like, but over time he had come to the conclusion that imagining about people that he had (rare as it was for him) no memory of, and who he would never meet was a waste of time. Thinking about them wouldn't bring them back to him, or make his problems disappear, so he had made peace with the fact that he had no parents.
Now learning that they had made plans for him and his education, it was like having a small bit of proof that they cared, it was nice.
He gingerly placed the key into his bag and opened the orientation packet and pulled out three booklets. The first 'So Magic Is Real', the second 'The Wizarding World Around You' and the last 'Hogwarts: A New World School'. He also pulled out a list of school supplies and a train ticket.
Harry opened the first book, 'So Magic Is Real; which seemed to be more of a panflit, and started to read, it only took about five minutes to finish. It mainly seemed to go over something called, accidental magic, which mostly involved things breaking, floating or disappearing. Harry noticed that, a strange connection to water, was not on the list of things that normally happened around or too a growing wizard or witch.
'Okay, looks like I might have to do some research on this later'. He thought to himself as he put down the first book and picked up the next one.
It only took him about fifteen minutes to read through the other two books. 'The Wizarding World Around You' was like a tourist guide book, it talked about how to find a place called Diagon Alley, apparently it was a wizarding shopping district. The book gave descriptions about the shops that students would have to go to, and less detailed descriptions about a few other shops and stores.
'Hum, looks like I'm not going to be able to just treat this like a school that wants me to transfer to another country. They want me to transfer worlds.'
However it was when he was reading the last book did he start to have doubts.
The book 'Hogwarts: A New World School' gave a few brief details about the school's history and facts about the classes he would be taking as a first year. Harry thought that charms, potions and DADA seemed like interesting classes. But it wasn't the classes that were offered that had him doubting the school, it was the classes that weren't.
He seen that they didn't offer any math, science or english classes and he doubted they taught any history that he could use outside the magical world. Truthfully he himself didn't really need to worry about them, he already had his A-levels in history and science and he could self-study the other two, he had done so before. But there were three classes he wasn't seeing that he didn't want to give up.
He picked up his pencil and wrote out a question to the Professor who had been commentating along with what he read.
'Does your school offer any music, dance or art classes?'
"We do offer a music class that can be chosen as an elective class in third year. Although I will admit it is not a very popular class, because there are no OWLS or NEWTS, there are no specific jobs one can obtain taking that class. As for dance and art I'm afraid we do not offer either as a class."
The minute she finish her sentence she could almost see his interest in Hogwarts diminish. Thinking it was because the thought that a class he would want to take would only be a hindrance to him in the future, she attempted to reassure him.
"Mr. Potter I can assure you that there are other classes that you can take as an elective, and you are allowed to take more than one. There have been plenty of people that have chosen music as there elective and have been able to go on to find work in the future."
Harry scrunched his eyebrows at her response. It wasn't his future he was worried about. He wanted to take those classes because they were things he loved to do.
Honestly he had never given any solid thought on what he wanted to do in the future, he had a few ideas but nothing he was dead set on doing. He had thought he would eventually go to an Art College, preferably one out of the country away from the Dursleys, but beyond that he didn't know. Academically he could be anything from a doctor, to a lawyer, to a CEO if he put his mind to it. But he had wanted to do something with art, though just what it was, he wasn't sure. He had thought about performing and becoming a professional musician or concert violinist or pianist or any of the other instruments he played. He had thought of putting all his efforts in dance and becoming a dancer for The Royal Ballet or on Broadway. Becoming an artist had been what almost everyone who had seen his art work, more specifically his paintings, believed he would be and he could see himself doing that. He had even thought about just becoming a wandering nomad, and traveling the world painting rare and exotic sights. Though one thing he had always wanted to do was make a painting that would be displayed in The Louvre.
Even though none of his plans for the future, aside from College and being immortalized in The Louvre, were set in stone he didn't just want to give up on them. And he didn't want to just leave Faciendo, he had been very proud of what he had achieved by getting into his school and what he had done by keeping his spot in it. Getting into Faciendo wasn't easy, especially the way he did it, but it seemed all it took to get into Hogwarts was having magic.
He was a bit at a loss on what he was going to do now. He was curious as to what he could learn at this magical school, and in this other world. But he didn't want to give up on everything else in his life to sate his curiosity.
His contemplation must have shown on his face.
"Is something the matter, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked.
Shaking his head he wrote. 'No I'm just not sure what to do right now.'
"Well, right now if you are ready we could go and get your school supplies." She offered, misunderstanding his dilemma.
Harry shot her a confused look. 'No Professor. I meant I'm not sure if I should go to your school or not.'
Minerva was more than a bit shocked at this. She knew he was unaware of the wizarding world but she had thought that with proof of its existence he would be thrilled to come. Most muggleborn children were ecstatic when they found out they were a witch or wizard and couldn't wait to get to school. If they were unsure of anything it was being away from their families but she dident think that was the case now. Normally it was muggle parents who had a problem with their children going off to Hogwarts. She didn't consider it a possibility that he might not want to come to Hogwarts. Then a thought occurred to her.
"Mr. Potter if you're worried about your aunt trying to stop you then you have nothing to worry about..." She started but he shook his head and started writing again.
'No it's not that. I have invested a lot of time into my current school.' He stopped writing to point at a poster of the academy on the wall of the office. 'And I'm not sure if I want to give up on everything I have and know about here to attend a school in a world I know next to nothing about. But magic does hold a lot of curiosity and the idea of learning more about it does seem cool to. So again, I'm not really sure what to do right now.'
Minerva looked at the reply with a frown as she read and could see his reasoning behind it. The dilemma between going somewhere new and unknown or staying where you are with what you know and what's familiar.
She was happy that he hadn't completely dismissed Hogwarts all together and that he still had an interest in the magical world. But the reasoning behind him not wanting to come saddened her a bit, she had thought, like so many others, that the Boy-Who-Lived would be a Gryffindor. Though as she continue to spend time with the boy, and especially after reading his response for not wanting to come to Hogwarts, the likelihood of him ending up in her house seemed to be diminishing. Having doubts about acting because of a lack of information wasn't exactly something she seen among any of those in her house.
Harry meanwhile was thinking about his options, and he kept coming back to one thought , he needed more information.
'Professor, you said that you were going to take me to get my school supplies. That would be in Diagon Alley right?' He questioned
"Yes, that's correct. Will we be getting your things there?" She asked, keeping the hope out of her voice, the decision was his to make and it wasn't her place to presser him one way or the other.
She managed to keep the frown off her face when she seen him shake his head in the negative.
'No, however the first letter said I didn't have to send in my response until my birthday, 6 days from now on the 31st. I was wondering if I could go and see what your world is like firsthand and get some more... in-depth books before making my decision.'
Minerva was delighted at the suggestion, yes she could show him firsthand what the Wizarding World is like.
She nodded and stood from her seat. "Yes, I believe that is an excellent idea."
'I need to get permission from Ms. Setpanova first.' He wrote. 'And change my clothes.' he added looking down at himself; he hadn't changed from his dance clothes he had been practicing in.
"I'll go speak to your teacher." She told him. "Pleas meet me near the front entrance when you are ready to go."
Fifteen minutes later Harry came down and spotted Professor McGonagall by the entrance door and approached her.
His hair was now down out of the pony tail and covering the scar. He was dressed in a new pair of black leggings and the same black and white long sleeve baseball shirt he picked out that morning and a pair of white Timberland boots with his messenger bag over his shoulder.
The boots had been a Christmas present from Cyrille whom had gone off to a university in America the year before.
"Your teacher has been informed that we will be further discussing your admittance to Hogwarts, elsewhere. I told her that you would be back before the schools curfew. " She told him as they walked out the door.
Harry wondered what exactly she had told Ms. Setpanova they were doing.
They turned down an empty alleyway next to the dance studio and Professor McGonagall held out her arm to him.
"Please take my arm, we will be using a method of transportation called apparition."
He took her offered arm and with a crack they were gone leaving an empty alley behind.
A/N: Hey, so now the story is officially underway, and this chapter is a lot longer than i thoght it would be, there will still be littel snippets about Harrys past. In this chapter you seen a small bit of Harry's more aggressive and vindictive side. You'll see more of that later especially in what I have planned for Snape. Harrys also going to be alot more blasé about his parents, it's not that he dosent care he's just come to terms with the fact that they are dead and he never knew them.
Okay bad news. How I've been writing the story is by typing it up at home (I don't have Internet at my house) and then going to the library to upload and edit it, but unfortunately my home computer had some kind of freakout and all but died on me. And I'm not expected to be able to get a new one until after the start of 2018 at the earliest. I go to the library twice a week so I will be able to keep typing it but it will take a mutch longer time. :( So Sorry :(
Clarification: Dumbledore is completely ignorant of what's going on with Harry. He thinks that the fancy school he's going to is a Primary School. He has no idea how smart Harry is or that he has been off at boarding school for 4 years and hasn't actually seen the dursleys for almost 2 years.
(1) 06. To The Fairies They Draw Near Part II - Loreena McKennitt (Music Inspired By Tinkerbell)
