disclaimer: I still don't own Harry potter.

I'm glad to see so many of you are favoring my story. Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long, but I'm getting ready to go back to class plus I'm finishing up my original story.

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Chapter 7: Outcasts

When morning arrived Harry was in no mood to waken. The sun shone through the window and hit his face, acting as an alarm, but Harry rolled over to his other side. He didn't go back to sleep. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure he had ever slept at all. Today was the day that was suppose to be the greatest day of his life, but it would become the worst. He could just imagine it. The only comfort he had was that Hermione would be with him, but that didn't insure an easy life as a student of Hogwarts. The moment he was seen, with wings, was the moment he was forever labeled as a freak. There was nothing he could do about it, unless Dumbledore found something that could help him get rid of his mark. He would have to find time to ask. In the mean time, he thought he might as well get up and start the day.

When he sat up he saw that he was still in his Hogwarts robes. Since he was too tired to change out of them, or put on a show of changing clothes in front of the boys, he wrinkled them up pretty good. Harry peaked outside his drawn drapes. None of the other boys were up yet, but it would only be a matter of time. He quickly jumped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to refreshen himself and change into an extra set of robes. He stayed longer than he intended as he was far too busy staring as his reflection in the mirror. He stared at the normality of his face and the abnormality of his wings. He could think of nothing that could make things easier on him. No shread of advice from Dumbledore or Sirius or reassuring pats from Hermione could save him from dark thoughts. All he had was himself, but if things got too bad, he was determined to take his own advice and flee.

Minutes passed before Harry returned to the room to find his roomates slowly coming to terms with the morning. They looked up at him as he exited the bathroom. Harry stood for a moment gazing back at them, then he crossed over to his bed in the akward silence. All the boys, who had been statues a few minutes ago, came to life and went to change and get their supplies together.

The red-headed boy Harry learned was named Ronald Weasley was hesitating at the bathroom door. He seemed to be studying it as carefully as he could from the outside, as if to see if it were infected in any way.

"Don't worry, I'm not contagious," said Harry as if it was obvious. "Although I may have left a few feathers behind, but I clean up after myself."

He heard Neville and the other boy called Seamus snicker quietly.

Ron turned to Harry, then stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Harry went back to getting his own things together, and after he had done that, he went to tidy the bed a bit. When he turned around, he saw a letter on his night stand. But it wasn't like the first letter he had recieved last night as this one was marked with a name. Harry opened the envelop and read it to himself.

Dear Harry,

I wish to congratulate you for making the effort to come to Hogwarts regardless of the situation. I know it can't be easy, but I encourage you to use your inner strenght to help yourself succeed in all you do. In the mean time, I ask that you have patience with me until I am able to find an answer to your problem. Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, do not hesitate to step into my office.

I also wish to tell you that a Mr. Olivander will be arriving this evening to test you for your will meet him in my office at 7:00 p.m. I have already informed the staff of this, among other things, so you need not worry about falling behind. This is your first day of classes. Enter them with confidence. Open your mind to the possiblity that things will get better and that no one can hurt you. I have great faith in you.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. If you wish to visit my office, give the gargoyle statue this password -- lemon drop.

Harry folded up the letter and stuffed it in his bag. He knew he should feel better about the idea that Dumbledore was on his side and doing everything he could to help, but he was frustrated. It was looking like it would be a long time before he found any kind of solution. But he would take his advice, or at least try to, and keep his spirits up. He gave a big stretch with also caused his wings to spread out just a little. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry could see that he was still the star attraction. He sighed. Maybe things wouldn't get better.

"Um, excuse me."

Harry turned back around to see that Neville had made an attempt to confront him. Harry braced himself for the worse.

"Do you have,...uh Herbology class?"

Harry gaped at him. His question had nothing to do with the wings, so why was he asking about class? "Er, yeah, I think so. Hang on."

He pulled out his schedule and scanned his objectives.

"Oh, no I don't. It's History of Magic."

"Oh," Neville replied in a happier tone. Then he turned away and left the room. The other boys who were of course watching the exchange went to head off to class as well. Harry was left believing that if he were invisible, everyone would have a much easier time in class.

After slinging his bag over his shoulders, while being mindful of his wings, he headed downstairs. The other Griffindors were slowly departing and whispering to one another about who was clearly on their minds. Harry was annoyed, but he put his anger aside when he caught sight of Hermione. Her head was bowed over her books and she was keeping a careful distance from the girls in front of her. Harry also saw that there was something white sticking out of her hair.

He hurried down to meet her and when he did a few of the girls looked at him and made kissy faces.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

She nodded, but didn't look up.

"What happened?" Upon closer inspection, he saw that the white things in her hair were feathers.

When the other girls moved further away Hermione explained. "It's those stupid girls. They teased me all night because I refused to stop seeing you. They said I was nothing but your keeper and after I went to sleep they put feathers in my hair."

Though she wasn't crying, Harry knew that she would want to but she trying to make that it didn't truly upset her. It was like the day he met Hermione, all over again, where girls stood around making fun of her until he came to her defense.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. What have you to be sorry about? They're just being stupid."

"No, I'm being stupid. I shouldn't ask you to give up your right to have a normal life just for me. You wanted this to be your chance to make friends."

Hermione sniffled, then smiled. "I already have a friend."

Harry saw her cheeks were turning red and felt his own cheeks becoming hot. "Come on, let's go to class."

The first class Harry had entered was Charms and he and his fellow Griffindors shared it with Hufflepuffs. But once again he couldn't escape the nervous looks directed at him. Even the tiny Professor Flitwick took an interest in him. The classroom was large enough to accomodate all of them, yet Harry felt it was rather small. He sat between Hermione and some nervous looking sandy haired boy. Harry was feeling a bit claustropobic. Feeling he was intruding on the other's space, he tightened his wings against his body just enough so that they would still be comfortable. The sandy haired boy jumped.

"Right," started the professor. "Well, I think we'll begin our lesson with a few quick simple spells. The first one, a levitating charm. I will ask you to practise levitating the feather I have placed before you. Everyone please pull out your wands and follow after me. Wingardium leviosa." With a wave of his wand, the feather on his desk rose into the air. Afterwards the students were eager to try. Unfortunately Harry couldn't join them without a wand, so he watched as Hermione mastered the spell right away.

"Well done , well done. Er.. are you having any trouble?"

"Um, no professor. I won't get my wand until later today."

"Ah yes, Dumbledore did mention that. Well, it may help for you to take notes."

"Right."

Harry turned back to watch Hermione, ignoring the longing gaze Professor Flitwick was giving his wings.

"It's really very simple Harry. I'm sure you'll have no trouble at all," she told him.

"I won't really know until I get my wand will I?" Harry said, then he leaned in and whispered his worries. "I haven't done any magic, what if these wings get in the way?"

"They won't, you're a wizard," Hermione informed him.

"Stupid stupid feather!"

They turned to see Ron, who was sitting on Hermione's other side wacking his wand furiously in the air. "Rise already...wingardrium...levosa!"

"Stop stop, you're doing it all wrong," said Hermione. "It's Wingdardium leviosa and you're jerking your wand too much."

"You think you're so clever," he snapped back.

"I completed my task remember? You do it like this."

Once again Hermione's feather took to the air. Students who were failing to make any progress looked up, disappointed that they couldn't do it as well. Ron studied and listened to Hermione explaining how it was done, but he kept glancing at Harry. He seemed torn by whether he should seek advice from someone who hung around with a boy wearing wings. After the demonstration was done, Ron mumbled a "thank you" and quickly turned away from both of them. In the end, only half the class had managed. The sandy haired boy next to Harry barely counted. He seemed too afraid to make much movement next to him. He managed to get his feather half-way in the air, but when Harry turned around and saw him, the feather fell to the floor and his wand slipped out of his hand in surprise.

The next class was Transfiguration. Harry was starting to dread the constant reminder of having to do magic, but Professor McGonagall didn't ask for the class to pull out their wands. Instead she spent most of the period lecturing about transfiguration and what was expected of them. This portion of class placed the Slytherins along side Griffindors. And as if it were meant to be, his new arch nemisis Draco sat close to him and whispered back and forth to his friends about the obvious abnormality in the room. Harry bared his teeth and tried to focus on what McGonagall was saying.

He was pleased that she wasn't paying as much attention to him as Flickwick was. That alone gave Harry confidence.

"The art of Transfiguration goes back many years. Some of you may be wondering why it is nessecary to change objects from one thing into another. Well there are a list of several reasons, many of which can be useful to you should you ever find yourself in peril."

"Um, Professor, can a wizard transfigure himself?" asked Draco politely. Harry dreaded what he was getting at as he saw his flankies Crabbe and Goyle, struggling to hold back their laughter.

"Why yes they can. But it is something every witch or wizard must take precausion."

"So then I assume that's what's happened to Potter? He tried to turn himself into a bird and got stuck half way."

The whole class was roaring with laughter. Professor McGonagall started yelling over the students to be quiet, but it was of little use. Harry ducked down in his seat, wishing that Flickwick had taught them a charm to make them invisible. Hermione patted his back and joined the professor in quieting the class. When she had accomplished it, she was standing before them with a horrible scowl on her face.

"I'll not have those kinds of jokes or talk in this classroom. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Professor McGonagall," the class chorused.

"Every student in this room is to be treated equally. Their affairs are none of your business. The only questions and discussions I want to hear are those pertaining to Transfiguration. Do I make myself clear?"

There were nods all around. She then marched up to Draco, who was pretending he had asked an innocent question.

"I'm letting you off with a warning . The next time you make a statement like that it will be detention and 20 points from your house. That goes for all of you!"

She turned on her heels and presumed the lesson which now consisted of taking notes. McGonagall's threat upon the class appeared to be enough to scare them into leaving Harry alone. He looked up at her with gratitude and admiration, and when she caught his eye, she winked. The feeling of trust continued until she decided to have them practise their first transfigurations by turning a timble into a button and vise versa. Harry groaned, but participated by watching everyone else; particularly Hermione who was capable of mastering all her tasks. Under McGonagall's watchful eye, Harry was hardly given any looks. Malfoy and his small gang, however, were able to whisper nasty things to him when the professor turned her back.

"Hey Potter, perphaps you can get your girlfriend to change you into a real boy. Or maybe I can change you into a real bird." They started laughing, and became louder when Harry tried lifting a wing to cover them from his sight. Realizing it only made things worse, he lowered it down.

At long last lunch had arrived. Harry was so relieved to get out of class, which wasn't as bad as he thought. The teachers were holding their tongues about his situation and treating him normally. But as he expected the students were having a more difficult time doing the same. Lunch was quiet for Harry as he and Hermione sat together, both being ignored by their fellow Griffindors. Some of them had left to have lunch elsewhere, or study.

"It wasn't so bad was it?" asked Hermione.

"No, I guess not," he admitted as he poked his fork around in his potatoe salad. He glanced at the Slytherin table and was annoyed to see that Draco had gathered even more Slytherins to make fun of him.

"Just ignore them," Hermione insisted.

"Easy for you to say. You don't have any wings."

"Well if I did, I'd ignore them, or tell Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore's done enough. He can't control what people are saying. Hopefully he will have found a solution to this so I can get rid of these things."

Hermione watched him quietly, wishing there was something she could do to make him feel better. But standing by his side seemed to be enough. When lunch was over, their next class for the day was potions. He had no idea how it was going to turn out, but he couldn't ignore the bad feeling that enveloped him as he and Hermione headed off into the dungeons.

Once again the Slytherins were their neighbors, which only intensified the bad feeling. The Professor wasn't there as the students seated themselves along the rows. While they waited they had a good look around the class. It was dimly lit, leaving a dark atmosphere hovering over them. There were also many shelves with vials and potions rested alongside the walls. Five minutes passed by the professor entered the room, immediately demanding quiet among his chattering group. Professor Snape stood at the front and surveyed them with dark eyes over his large hooked nose. His pale skin stood out from the curtains of long black greasy hair.

"Well well well. Another year, and another chance to see if any of you are worthy of mastering the art of.....potions," he drawled, but paused as his eyes lingered on Harry. Harry wanted to turn away, but he couldn't. There was no possible was to determine what he was thinking. He saw his eyes lift to his wings. As soon as the class started to notice, Snape moved his eyes to the others.

"I've come to teach many students who fail to appreciate potion making. I don't expect to see that among the Slytherins," he continued, his eyes falling on a grinning Draco. "As for the Griffidors, I expect your best efforts. I don't expect that any of you have already had a hand in producing a potion?" Once again his eyes fell on Harry. There were only two hands from students who had some or little experience with potions. But Snape wasn't paying attention to them. "Well Potter, what about you?"

Harry was caught off guard, but found his voice. "Er..me?"
"Yes, you're name is Potter isn't it? Harry Potter?" He asked as he glanced at his list of students.

"Yes sir."

"Have you had a hand in making potions before?"

"No sir."

"You live with your godfather Sirius Black is that correct?"

"Uh, yes," said Harry even more confused.

"And he hasn't taught you potions. Could've fooled me. It looks as though you've gotten hold of an avarian potion, which if you didn't know is a potion designed to repair the wings and feathers of birds."

The Slytherins laughed silently while the Griffindors simply looked embarrassed. Professor Snape was still watching him as though he expected an answer. Harry was determined not to give him one, so Professor Snape continued, but he didn't dare break eye contact with Harry.

"As many of you already know, we have a very special guest among us. Mr. Harry Potter is a unique case that has yet to be fully understood. I expect we can all learn a lot from Potter."

His sneer sent a wave of anger over him.

"Perphaps he can teach us to fly," said a female Slytherin. Once again the Slytherins laughed.

"Quiet," Snape demanded, and the class quieted at once. After another long look at Harry, Professor Snape continued with his opening statement. He then ordered the class to start taking notes. It was unbearable for Harry. Everytime he glanced up he'd catch Snape just looking away. Unlike the other teachers, he had made a mockery of him in front of the whole class. Nonetheless it was the last class for the day and Harry was determined to get through it.

When the professor was finished making notes and speeches he proceeded to ask how much they already knew about potions, and he started with his new favorite student. "Potter. Let's see if you actually have or brain, or if you're all feathers. Tell me now, what would I get if I added a bit of powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood? Well?"

Harry looked around as if the answer was written on the walls. He could the eyes of every student staring at him. In an attempt to save him from the spotlight Hermione raised her hand and announced that she knew the answer. Professor Snape ignored him. His eyes bore into Harry's and he had no choice but to respond.

"I don't know sir."

Snape was silent for a moment, then he continued. "Where would you go if I told you to find a bezoar?"

"I don't know sir." Harry. He felt his confidence from earlier evaporating quickly as he heard a couple of snickering Slytherins.

"So far you appear to put more importance on looks than brains. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry wished he had the nerve to glare or shout that Dumbledore made it clear there would be no special treatments of him. That included evil treatment as well. Hermione's hand was stretching in the air, but she seemed to be invisible to the professor.

"Please sir, I know the answer," she squealed.

"Be quiet you silly girl and put your hand down," he snarled. Hermione dropped it slowly and Harry was left alone. "Well, Potter? Time to show us whether you have the brain of a wizard, or a bird."

Though Harry kept a perfectly polite expression on his face, he was raging inside. He actually felt his body trembling. It was an effort just to give the same reply to a professor who knew perfectly well he knew nothing about what he was asking.

"I, don't know sir."

His lip curled in satisfaction. "What a pity. You'd better hope those wings are more useful, because your mind certainly is not." There was more laughing. "That shall be 5 points from Griffindor, for your mascot's lack of preparation. I expect the answers to all of my questions on three rolls of parchment for our next class period, is that clear Potter?"

"Yes...sir," he forced himself to answer. An understanding formed between them through the nasty eye contact they made with one another. Harry now knew that he not only had to worry about people his age making fun of him, but adults as well. It made no difference that his secret would remain inside the castle. He was still a target.

After a lot more note taking, and cursing under his breath, Harry was finally free of the dungeons.

"Don't worry about those questions Harry. I'll help you answer them," said Hermione.

"Thanks," said Harry, but he didn't sound grateful.

The rest of the day was used for studying or just taking a break from class. Hermione insisted that Harry get an early start on his homework, but he was more interested in trying to decide whether or not he should see Dumbledore about Snape and his other problem. In the end he decided he would just wait to see Mr. Ollivander about his wand.

At 7:00 p.m, Harry left Griffindor tower, and the jokes that he was going off to hunt with the owls, to Dumbledore's office. Hermione explained to him how wands were selected. Harry found it interesting, but he was also nervous about it. What if a wand didn't choose him? What if he turned out to not be a wizard after all. He had no chances to test it when he was in class like the others when they practised with their wands. All Harry had found out was that he was good at taking notes, but not wise on things like bezoar, monkshood or wolfsbane. For all he knew he could be completely magicless.

After giving the gargoyle the password, Harry made his way to the circular staircase that rose up into Dumbledore's circular room. Harry had never seen so many magnificent artifacts in one room. Books of all kinds in bookcases, strange silvery and gold objects lined the tables, and the sorting hat stood on top of a shelf. In the center was a perch for a firey red and orange bird. He remembered Hermione mentioning its description while reading about some of the animals of the magical world. It was a phoenix. The phoenix lifted its head to look at Harry, then it flapped its wings slightly. Harry hoped he wasn't mistaking him for some wild bird. However, he was feeling comforted by him. A warming feeling seemed to radiate off the bird and take away some of his stress. Just as he was reaching out to pet its head, he heard a voice.

"I see you've met my phoenix Fawkes."

Harry looked around and saw Dumbledore and an older man that must be Mr. Ollivander sitting further in the room.

"Sir," Harry answered.

"You seem to have a way with him. Come Harry, let us not keep Mr. Ollivander waiting."

Harry took one last look at the phoenix before heading over toward them.

"Harry this is . He owns the wand shop in Diagon Alley and will be testing you for your wand."

"Oh, pleased to meet you," said Harry as he extended a hand. But Mr. Ollivander didn't take it. He just stood there gawking at him, and his wings.

"Mr. Ollivander?" Harry questioned.

"Curious, very curious," he answered. ", let me just say that you are an exquisite sight. Unfortunately no one will ever know as I've promised Albus not to breath word of it."

"Oh." Harry didn't know what else to say. He was neither flattered or relieved.

"Well, let us get on with your wand shall we? Please extend your wand hand."

"Er...I'm right-hand if that's...."

"Fine," he replied as he pulled out a measuring tape and measured his arm. Then he turned away from him and over to a wall of shoe boxes he hadn't noticed. He pulled out one of the boxes and opened it to produce a wand.

"There you are. Let's try this one for starters. I haven't brought along my whole store of course, but upon hearing a description of you from Dumbledore, I made my best guess. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, 9 inches. Give it a wave Mr. Potter."

Harry took the wand and gently waved it around. Before he could get the full effect of feeling like a wizard snatched it out of his hand. He was muttering "no" under his breath as he placed it back in the box and selected another wand. "Try this one. Maple and phoenix feather, 7 inches. Seeing as you have something in common with the bird."

Harry took it, feeling a little offended and waved it. Nothing special happened so took that one back too. He pulled out another and another, but none of them worked. Harry was getting frustrated. Did this mean that his fears were right? That he wasn't a wizard after all?

"Not to fret my dear boy. There hasn't been a wizard I wasn't able to fit a wand to. I've dealt with tricky customers before, and I didn't expect you to be particuarly easy to match in the first place. How about this one? Holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches."

When Mr. Ollivander handed him the wand, it felt--right. Harry wrapped his fingers around it and felt an instant warmth and the question that had been nagging him for some time, trying to confuse him, was answered. Gold and red sparks showered over him and without his doing, his wings lifted just a bit. stepped back stunned at the seemingly angelic looking wizard. Dumbledore, who stood out of the way moved closer to them.

"They don't call you the best for nothing," Dumbledore told the wand maker as he patted him on the back.

"Curious," he whispered in a frightened voice. "Most curious indeed."

Harry's momentary shock and awe of discovering he was a wizard was interrupted as he glanced over at him. "Sorry, but what do you mean by curious?"

"The wand. I recall every wand I've ever sold. That particular wand carries a feather from a phoenix that gave another feather which was placed in a wand, and that wand belongs to......maybe I shouldn't be saying it."

"Saying what?"

"That wand, belongs to the most dangerous beast of our time. Voldemort."

Harry nearly dropped the wand he was holding in shock. Voldemort. The horrible wizard who had been the cause of his parent's death. If there was something that made him feel more like a freak than his wings, it was the fact that a murderer owned a wand that was brother to his own.

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Gosh, I didn't think I'd ever get to update again. Sorry, but as I've mentioned earlier, I'm wrapping up my original work, so that's fantastic for me. Okay Harry's in classes. I kind of took a movie version take when it came to his being in class so I don't have to place too many scenes in the classroom (in the movies we visit a class like once, but that doesn't mean you won't be seeing Snape and Harry go at it again) I kind of glanced back at the first book, but not so much to grasp how Harry's schedule works. So I just did my own thing with it. A certain number of classes a day with a certain house. (Feel free to describe how Harry's classes work and when they change houses). As for pairings, I think I'll keep that a secret for now, but maybe some of you have guessed it.

Okay, there's been a question I've been wanting to answer. Harry doesn't know what he is, and neither does anyone else. He shouldn't know what the wings are for just like he didn't know he was a wizard in the books. It took eleven years for him to find out and he has to go to school to know how to use them. This is news to everybody and there's no evidence, currently about this phenomenon or other wizards with this problem. Harry just sprouted wings for no reason to them. The ancient race is unknown for the moment, but Dumbledore's still looking into it. Once again I changed the age to 13 so Harry is old enough to have a real fight later, and he's not known for being the Boy Who Lived. I know you guys want it easier on him by hiding the wings, but as Harry mentioned, it's uncomfortable for him to pull in his wings so tightly against his back. The wings are light so they're not heavy for him to hang out like they are. Perhaps because they are so new, they haven't been broken in yet, or rather he knows no powers to hide them away. I'd like for Harry not to be ashamed of how he looks and be proud of what, and who he eventually is.

Please keep reading and reviewing. I'll try my best to keep updating.