Hello readers and welcome to chapter one of my new story The Boy-Who-Squibbed. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while now and I am excited to finally put it to paper. I hope you enjoy the story and I look forward to your feedback.

DISCLAIMER: All rights for the world of Harry Potter and any associated media belong to the original creator. Please enjoy the official release.

Dumbledore stared incredulously at the page in front of him, his mind refusing to accept what it was thinking. In some vain attempt to rationalize what he was seeing he began to review the series of events that led up to this moment.

It started a few days ago when he was finalizing the list of students that would be starting their first year this coming September. A task that he had become so accustomed to that he barely gave the list a second look after skimming through it, and quickly gave it his signature approving the process. His mind had been otherwise occupied from receiving his friend Nicholas's letter about his fears that someone was after the Sorcerer's Stone.

The next day Dumbledore had been reading through the returned messages of all the students' parents gleefully accepting the invitation for their child to attend the renowned school of witchcraft and wizardry. As he read through and marked each one he found one absent that while disappointing was nonetheless expected.

Harry Potter's missing acceptance letter made Dumbledore think back to the night he dropped the boy off at his aunt and uncles place. He had known that the boy would not have the best upbringing, him being aware of Petunia Dursley nee Evans' lingering jealousy and resentment for her sister, but, by being at his relative's house young Harry would have the most profound protection that magic could offer.

The wards powered by Lily's motherly sacrifice were so strong that they had rebounded the killing curse, a spell that was thought to be completely unblockable except by a large amount of dense matter. Not only that but the ward could hide the boy from anyone seeking him out with harmful intent and, if Dumbledore had read her notes right, would even make touching the boy have deadly consequences for Voldemort himself, not that Dumbledore believed they would stick.

So yes, Dumbledore knew the young boy would have a hard upbringing, but he also had great faith in the boy's resilience. He believed that the boy had the potential to stand against the world's hardships and come out of it a shining light to push back the darkness that would threaten his generation, and finally bring a true end to Voldemort's reign of terror.

Given his faith in the boy Dumbledore quickly stood to look at the accounts book he kept in his bookshelf, he fully intended to quickly confirm the boy's address before planning a bit of a prank on the stubborn family to, hopefully, help them make the right choice. Dumbledore calmly pulled out the thick tome which recorded the students whose accounts for tuition were pre-paid by trusts in their families' names before placing it on the nearby lectern and having it open itself to the P section with a casual wave of his hand.

Slowly savoring the feeling of running his finger down the list Dumbledore read through the names of the incoming students, passing by Parkinson, Patil, Perks and others until finally he froze upon his arrival at the Potter name.

Each student's name had been written in a glittering golden ink to show that their accounts were active with the school. The name of the Boy-Who-Lived however was not only dull and black, appearing to be written with mundane ink, but it also was marked through with a line. Dumbledore couldn't believe it as he slowly looked over to the notes section to see the explanation. Each word was like a nail in the coffin of his once bright hope for the future.

The entry read, "Account cancelled, no magical ability detected in candidate, Squibb status recorded and sent to ministry."

As if it had been rehearsed it was at that moment that the fireplace behind Dumbledore flared up with spectral green flames and a panicked voice rang out from the fire.

"DUMBLEDORE," the voice of Minister Fudge called out, "DUMBLEDORE, TELL ME THIS IS A MISTAKE. WHY AM I LOOKING AT A DOCUMENT SAYING HARRY POTTER IS A SQUIBB?"

But Dumbledore couldn't hear him, too shocked by what he was seeing. 'Could the prophecy be wrong?' he wondered but he knew that was impossible. They were the words of a true seer, and those words could never be invalidated. They were fixed points in the fabric of the universe, if a prophecy were somehow invalidated reality would cease to be.

It was then as he was thinking about the prophecy and what this new revelation would entail that a startling realization came to Dumbledore's mind.

Voldemort, the single most zealous advocate for magical supremacy in history, had unknowingly marked a squibb as his equal. The "Dark Lord" had cosmically declared that he was on even footing with someone unable to use magic.

When this thought crystalized in his mind Dumbledore could do nothing but laugh and laugh and laugh. His mirth grew to the point of hysterics until he had to grab onto the lectern or else he would have collapsed to the floor. He continued to laugh for nearly 30 minutes, with tears falling down his face the entire time.

Harry Potter was experiencing a very complex mix of emotions at the moment. On the one hand he was finally free from the Dursley's clutches, on the other he was on his way to Stonewall High, a school rumored to house only the roughest of children that no one else wanted.

Harry had never enjoyed much of life. His parents having died before he could truly remember them, he had grown up with an Aunt and Uncle that were not happy to have him in their home, and they were sure to remind Harry of how generous they were to even allow him the comforts that he had.

The most disconcerting thing about his home life however was how his Aunt and Uncle seemed to treat Harry like a primed explosive that could explode at any minute. Oftentimes Harry would catch his Aunt staring at him as if she were just waiting for him to do something, The one time that he had worked up the courage to ask her what she wanted her only response was that she was making sure he wasn't a freak like his mother. When he asked for more information, eager to learn something about his parents other than that they were useless drunks who died in a car crash, she seemed to snap out of her state and scolded him for wasting time and not doing his chores.

Given this home environment Harry was happy to be free of the abusive atmosphere and bullying he received, but at the same time he was nervous that all he had to look forward to was more of the same, just from his schoolmates and teachers instead of his the future may hold Harry decided that he would just do what he always did. Roll with the punches and hope for something better in the future.

Feeling a bubble of impatience in his stomach Harry began to get a little antsy and peered around the bus he found himself on, scratching absently at the spots where is ill-fitting and cheaply dyed homemade uniform chaffed on his skin. The bus wasn't anything remarkable; it had picked him up from the train station he had arrived at after his trip from Little Whinging. And would supposedly drop him off at the entrance to the school.

He hoped at least, Uncle Vernon had given him the instructions he was supposed to follow only once and said,

"If you forget and get lost that is your own fault. I still expect to not see you until next Summer."

Luckily, while on the train, Harry had happened to spot a small group of older boys in what appeared to be grey uniforms as well, though none of theirs appeared homemade, so Harry had decided to keep his eye on them and follow where they went, for better or worse.

It was because he had been watching the group that he noticed they appeared to be grabbing their things and preparing to disembark from the bus. So Harry followed suit. A few minutes later the bus driver announced,

"Stonewall High, next stop, Stonewall High"

When he heard the call Harry stood and followed the older boys off the bus, as he walked down the center aisle the nervousness about his future began to win over the other emotions boiling in his stomach, but still Harry soldiered on, knowing that even if he were to return to Privet Drive he would just be back here within the same day.

Stepping off the bus Harry finally got a good look at his home for at least the next 11 months. Stonewall high did not have a very welcoming appearance. The squat building was constructed with cinder blocks that had been white washed. It was square in shape with a large central building with a number of wings built off to the sides. All of the windows were high off the ground and had what looked like chain-link fencing placed over them. The grounds consisted of a mowed lawn with a couple of basketball hoops placed near one of the wings, and the entire complex was encircled by a tall fence made of similar chain-link material to what covered the windows. Everything appeared to be made in the most cost effective way with the most cost effective materials as anyone would probably expect from a state run school.

In Harry's mind the only thing he could compare it to would be a prison he had been brought to by Uncle Vernon one summer when he was trying to show Harry where disobedience would land him. He had been five at the time and had asked why he was given so many chores and Dudley was given so few.

In front of the entryway a plastic table had been set up with a piece of paper taped to the front that read "First year student check-in." Behind the table sat a man dressed in a white polo shirt with black pants reading a newspaper that sat folded up on the table.

Harry cautiously approached the table before softly calling out to the man, who hadn't yet looked up from his reading.

"Excuse me sir," Harry said, "I am here to check in."

"Name" the man abruptly replied.

"Harry sir, Harry Potter." Harry replied.

The man slid a binder over to himself that had been sitting to the side of his newspaper. Running his fingers down the tabs sticking out of the side of the binder. He flipped it open to the P section and then ran his finger down the list of student names until he arrived at the name Harry Potter. He then pulled out a pen and checked next to the name indicating that the student in question was accounted for.

"Wait here one moment until a staff member comes to take you to your dormitory," The man explained.

He then reached into a crate of folders on the ground next to his seat and pulled out a packet of papers.

Handing the papers to Harry he continued,

"Here is your student handbook, calendar and map. After leaving your stuff in your dorm you will be brought to the auditorium where the headmaster will give the student body a welcome speech, which will be followed by dinner then time for you to finish unpacking before lights out at 10:00. Any questions?"

Harry paused to sort through all of the information that had just been spewed at him. When he finally had a question picked out another man walked up in similar clothing and began talking to Harry.

"Hello," he said in a friendly voice, "My name is Mr. Thomas, and I'm here to take you to your dorm."

"Ok," Harry said, unable to think of any other response.

As they walked Mr. Thomas explained how to read the schedule in Harry's hand and he pointed out the important buildings that they passed.

"The main building, where I picked you up, houses the classrooms, auditorium, cafeteria, and offices. Meals are served at 7:30 AM, 12:30 PM, and 5:30 PM sharp, the kitchens are closed otherwise. There is also a small commissary for you to spend any pocket money you may have, if you want extra snacks. Over there is the gymnasium where you will have your P.E classes, and here is the dormitory."

Mr. Thomas finished his description of the grounds right as they arrived at another large white-washed building.

"Each of the student years has their own wing where you will find your bunk as well as your water closet and showers. Here I will drop you off so you can meet your classmates and start unpacking your things. Someone will be back at 5:00 to pick you all up and take you to the auditorium for the welcoming speech by the headmaster. After which dinner will be served at 5:30 as I said before. Do you have any questions?"

Harry was silent. The man spoke in a friendly tone but he spat out information in the most efficient way possible, making Harry feel like he didn't actually want a conversation to take place even though his voice might make you think otherwise.

After standing for a short time and hearing no response to he prompt Mr. Thomas smiled and nodded, apparently pleased with himself, and said,

"Alright then, go on in and find your bunk you wing is the first on the left. There is a big 1 painted on the door so you can't miss it."

Then, his piece said, he turned sharply and walked back to the main building. Harry hadn't noticed earlier but as the man walked away he seemed to move with a certain stiffness that Harry had only seen once before, when the neighbors down the street had welcomed their son home for the holidays. The son had been serving in the military and he walked just like Mr. Thomas did when he first arrived back home.

Harry didn't give it much of a second thought and instead focused on the new dread that was climbing up his throat that the thought of meeting his future classmates. In his mind he could already see a group of fat, Dudley-like boys ready to start a new round of Harry hunting. But regardless, Harry swallowed the anxiety down and marched up to the doors of his home for the foreseeable future.

Mr. Thomas had been right about his wing being easy to find. It had actually stood out because of how quiet it was compared to the other wings. Out of each wing's doors you could hear groups of boys loudly greeting friend groups they had missed over the summer. The first year's dorm however was very quiet. Other than the sound of clothes being unpacked there were only a few quiet conversations happening.

Harry looked on the front of the packet he had been handed and found a label that said,

Potter, Harry James

First Year

Bunk 19

Looking up again he then noticed that the bunk beds he saw around himself had numbers hanging from the foot of each top and bottom bunk. From where he was standing in the door he saw to his right bunks 1 and 2 and to his left bunk 3 and 4. Doing the math in his head he estimated where his bunk would be and began to walk briskly through the room.

As he went he began to eye the other students he passed just as they had started eyeing him. Luckily, The nightmare scenario that Harry had concocted in his mind hadn't become a reality. While most of the boys he saw were indeed bigger than he was, Harry didn't see any that were as rotund as his cousin and uncle were. However even though nobody matched the physical characteristics of his previous tormentors, Harry could see some worrying amounts of distrust and contempt in some of the eyes he happened to meet as he walked by the other beds.

Finally, after passing through the gauntlet of stares, He arrived at his assigned bunk only to find another boy already there knelt next to the bed digging around in his bag with a trunk opened in front of him. At first the boy didn't seem to notice Harry, too engrossed in his current task. After a few seconds Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to get the boy's attention.

Upon making the sound the other boy immediately shot to his feet and turned around. For a few tense moments the two boys inspected each other. With the other boy now facing him Harry was able to see that he had dark hair as well as dark skin. Little Whinging was a predominately white town and Harry didn't have many opportunities to go out so he had only ever seen people of other races from a distance. Given his limited experience with them Harry saw having skin of a different shade as a thing as trivial as having hair or eyes that were a different color as someone else. He had been much more focused on dealing with the hate he received from his own family over developing any kind of hate for others.

The other boy seemed to reach his own conclusions about Harry because he folded his arms and said,

"Well there are two options here. Either you are my new bunkmate, or you are a racist jerk who has come over to pick on the brown boy."

The boy spoke with a joking tone, but underneath it was a sense of challenge, as if he had dealt with that kind of treatment before and he wouldn't let it slide.

Harry immediately felt the need to defuse the situation, not wanting the boy he slept nearest to having any kind of bad feelings toward him.

"I think I will choose option 1," Harry replied, he then stuck out his hand in greeting, "My name's Harry Potter. What's Yours?"

The other boy's slight scowl immediately exploded into a bright smile as he grabbed Harry's hand and shook it vigorously.

"The names Nish," he said, "Nish Kumar"

Suddenly Nish pulled Harry close and threw his arms around Harry's shoulders.

"Stick with me Harry, and we'll be running this place before second year."

Harry had never met someone who interacted with him in such a friendly way. He felt a smile beginning to creep onto his face as he responded to the other boy's proclamation.

"I think I will focus on surviving this year first before trying for something like that," Harry replied.

"Ah," Nish said, "that simply won't do. I will have to stick around you until you see that you can do a lot more than just survive."

Nish then turned back to his bag and continued to unload it.

"Either way you're at least stuck with me as a bunkmate. It looks like we each have a trunk underneath the bed so you can start unloading your stuff." He said over his shoulder without looking at Harry.

Following Nish's example Harry walked around to the other side of the bunk and pulled out the second trunk and started unloading his own belongings. He barely had enough to fill half the trunk. All the Dursleys had sent him off with was two sets of poorly dyed grey clothes, 7 pairs of underthings. 7 pairs of socks. And a toothbrush. Harry then proceeded to roll up the duffel bag and pack it away in the unused side of the trunk.

After sliding the trunk back under the bed Harry then unslung the backpack he had been carrying as well. Inside were an assortment of pencils and pens held together with a rubber band, and a collection of spiral notebooks, all of them were at least partially used because Vernon didn't see the point in buying Harry new stationery when they had perfectly usable stuff for him to take from home.

Harry placed the backpack on the ground and then stepped back and checked the numbers at the foot of the bunkbeds to see which was his. Bunk 19 turned out to be the top bunk so Harry decided to climb up and judge the quality of his new sleeping arrangements. Grabbing one of the corner poles and stepping up on the end of the bottom bunk he found that he was quite easily able to haul himself into the top bunk. The sheets were thick and rough and the blanket was as well. His pillow was stiff but not lumpy. Overall it wasn't a luxurious experience but it was a big upgrade from the closet under the stairs.

Sitting up Harry dangled his feet over the edge of the bed and looked back down at Nish. At first Harry was unable to see his bunkmate, bending forward he was able to see that Nish had thought to do the same as Harry and was lying down in his new bed. Before Harry could get his attention however a shrill whistle ripped through the air grabbing all of the student's attention.

Looking toward the door Harry saw an unfamiliar man enter the room. He wore a white polo shirt and red shorts, and from his lips dangles a silver colored whistle. Opening his mouth he allowed the whistle to hang from a cord around his neck and spoke in a booming, American-accented voice.

"Alright first years, attention up here."

Putting his hands behind his back he began walking down the center of the room as he spoke.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mr. Atkins, and I am the supervisor of your dorm. I have a few ground rules. Number one, no roughhousing, this is your place to rest and relax so that you can excel in your schoolwork not a place to wrestle your buddies, save that for PE. Number two, no food or drinks, eat outside, we don't want any crumbs inviting mice or other pests into this building. Number three, lights out means lights out, at 10:00 we go dark and you should be asleep, you get eight hours a day to sleep and you should be using every one of them. Finally, rule number four is keep your crap in order, and I don't just mean the stuff you brought from home. You are here to learn, so that's what I expect from you, if I hear that you have been slacking off in class the janitors are going to be real happy because you will be giving them a break from having to clean your toilets for a week."

For the entire time he was speaking he had been pacing through the room meeting every boy's eyes at least once. He wasn't a giant of a man, only slightly above average in height, but the way he spoke was forceful and he grabbed the attention of all the students present. In addition to his voice what also kept their attention was his physical presence. The man was obviously in very good shape and his exposed arms and legs were corded with muscle. It came as no surprise when the man went on to explain that in addition to their dorm supervisor he would also be their physical education teacher. Finally after his explanations were finished he asked if there were any questions.

At first no one spoke until suddenly a voice rang out with a rude tone.

"Yeah, I got a question. What's a yank doin' here teachin' a bunch of rejects like us how to catch a ball?"

The boy who had spoken was tall with sandy blonde hair and crooked teeth who was leaning against the post of his bunk bed. His shirt was partially untucked and he seemed to be doing his best to give off a confident air.

Mr. Atkins turned and approached the boy, his face expressionless.

"What's your name?" Mr. Atkin's said, his voice not raised but still carrying across the room.

"Name's Chester Wiggins." The boy replied, lifting his chin in challenge.

"Well Mr. Wiggins, I am here because a man I respect thinks that everyone deserves a real chance at making something of themselves, and I agree with him." the teacher calmly responded.

Turning back to the rest of the students he then called out.

"Line up and follow me to the auditorium for the welcome assembly."

The walk to the auditorium was uneventful. Harry spent the time looking again at the grounds as they walked through them. He also saw other groups of students making their way to the main building but they weren't coming all at the same time like the first years appeared to be doing.

Suddenly Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see that his bunkmate, Nish, was right next to him.

"So, I was kind of joking earlier about running this place, but I would like to at least be friendly with you seeing as you will be sleeping right above me and everything."

Where before Nish had spoken with obvious bravado and energy, this time he appeared more subdued, almost nervous.

Harry was at a loss for words for a moment because he had never been approached by someone asking to be friends; all the boys in primary school having been scared off by Dudley and his gang. Not wanting to miss this chance Harry put on his best smile and responded,

"I would like that."

Immediately Nish's eyes lit up and he chuckled before continuing the conversation.

"So how did you end up in this place anyway. I am here because I'm poor and most of my primary school teacher's couldn't appreciate my witty comebacks, or as my dad puts it me being too much of a little turd."

Harry was surprised at how upbeat Nish was about attending Stonewall High. From what Harry gathered about the establishment it was not somewhere where kids wanted to be, nor somewhere where most parents would want their kids to be, unless of course there was something wrong with the kid.

After thinking about that Harry's own response was much more dour.

"I am here because my aunt and uncle apparently thought it was the best that I deserved."

Harry's words made Nish pause slightly before another bright smile was forced onto his face and he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Well joke's on them because they didn't know that you would get the incredible opportunity to be friends with me"

Nish spoke with such exaggerated pride that Harry immediately felt better at the joke. He looked to Nish again with a smile before looking at the main building as they approached it.

"So," Nish continued, "What do you think the headmaster of this place will be like."

"No idea," Harry responded.

When he heard Harry's short reply Nish shrugged and steered the conversation into more simple areas asking about Harry's likes and dislikes.

They passed the rest of the time chatting and setting the foundation of their friendship. Nish was naturally outgoing and loud, always looking to add something to a conversation, which more often than not was some attempt at humor. Harry on the other had was much more quiet and reserved though he would hold his own in a conversation after you got him started.

Finally after a few more minutes of walking the first year group was seated front and center in the auditorium.

The whole room was filled with the quiet murmuring that normally accompanies students when they are waiting for a meeting or class to start. Harry and the rest of the first years however were mostly quiet as they looked around themselves at the rest of the student body. Harry's eyes eventually made it to the stage where the faculty were seated.

The faculty seemed for the most part to be normal teacher looking people but sprinkled among the tweed jackets and balding heads there were a couple of teachers that seemed more like Mr. Atkins or the man who had first led Harry to the dorms, Mr. Thomas. They were stiffer than the other teachers sitting up straight with their shoulders back. But the stiffness didn't look uncomfortable for them, more they seemed in control, disciplined. As if each part of their body was put into its place with an express purpose. Harry was fascinated by them.

Once every seat for the faculty had been filled and the doors to the auditorium had been closed the man sitting at the end of the line of teachers stood. He was one of those teachers that Harry had been paying special attention to. He rose smoothly to what seemed like an enormous height. His skin was dark and his close cropped hair was peppered with gray, but he seemed to have an almost ageless quality. His mouth was outlined by a neatly trimmed goatee and he was otherwise clean shaven. He wore a Navy Blue three button suit that seemed to accentuate his powerful arms and trim waist.

As Harry watched him walk to the front of the stage he couldn't help but see this man as the exact opposite to his uncle Vernon. Where Vernon was a fat and sloppy mass of simmering anger. The man before Harry was a statuesque example of calm control.

When the man reached the middle of the stage he stepped up to a microphone that had been setup there. He then addressed the students assembled before him and his voice was rich, and compelling.

"Greetings students, for those that are new my name is Headmaster Jacobs. I would first like to welcome back all of our returning students. I am eager to see how you have grown over the break and I am sure that your performance will demonstrate that you are living up to the values that our school has taught. You carry on your backs the reputation of Stonewall High School and I am sure that you will do this institution proud."

As he spoke his voice seemed to carry a sense of pride for not just the school but the students as well, he truly believed what he said and that conviction made him convincing to his audience.

"Now," He continued focusing his brown eyes on the first year students before him with an intense stare. "I offer a sincere welcome to our newest group of students. I am sure that most of you have heard about our schools reputation. We are where they send the lost causes, the problem kids, the ones that no one else could be bothered to deal with. I want to ask you all a question that I want you to ponder. Why are you here?"

He paused as though he expected an answer but the fervor in his voice as he spoke forced the young students to be silent. After his pause he continued.

"I will tell you that most of you are probably here because no one cared. No one cared enough to help you succeed, and to stop you from developing habits that have not served you well. No one cared that you were paving the road you would be walking into a life of ruin and misery. No one cared enough to help you develop your talents into a tool you could use to build a better life for yourselves."

He paused once more to let his words sink in. As Harry listened he felt the words impact him because of how truthful they were, the Dursleys never showed any care for him and while Dudley had been sent to the prestigious Smeltings academy that Vernon had attended Harry had instead been sent here where they wouldn't have to spend money on him and where he would e out of sight and mind. Right as those thoughts began to pull Harry down into a pit of depression the Headmaster continued his speech.

"But," he said, pulling the attention of the students back to himself, "let me tell you why I am here. I am here because I CARE. I care about you having the opportunity to succeed, I care about you making something of yourselves here and where you decide to go after school. I care enough that I won't let you get away with living below your abilities. I care about whether or not you reach your potential, and I care about you becoming pillars of strength for those around you."

Once again the conviction of his words could be felt by the students. His words carried a steel that was sturdy and seemed to be a fixed point that those listening could hold onto as they walked the path he described. Just as he had been shaken by the man's first statement now Harry felt strengthened by these new declarations. Harry's eyes almost shown with awe at them man as he continued to speak.

"You heard me speak of virtues to your seniors, you to will learn these virtues and I believe that each of you can grow to shoulder them with the same strength as those that came before you. Virtue one," and as he said this he held up the thumb on his right hand.

Suddenly the entire auditorium rang as the entire student body said with the headmaster in one voice,

"RESPONSIBILITY"

The headmaster continued to speak without missing a beat,

"You are all able to know what is right and what is wrong, it is up to you to choose the right in every situation and it is up to you to accept the consequences of every action you take."

The headmaster paused again before holding up his pointer finger and saying, "Virtue two." again the auditorium rang as the student body responded to the call.

"HONESTY"

Again the headmaster explained the virtue,

"The only life worth living is one based in the truth. You should never lie to anyone including yourself. If you wish to stand strong in the face of anything life throws your way you must be built on a foundation of honesty."

"Once more the headmaster paused this time the auditorium seemed to hold its breath all eyes were on him waiting for the cue it was as though an unseen energy had infused everyone there. Finally the middle finger in his had rose and the spoke, "and virtue three,"

All of the tension in the room was finally released in the crowd's response.

"DILIGENCE" they roared,

After the crowd quieted down the barest hint of a smile found its way to the man's face before he explained the final virtue.

"This virtue is the most vital. Anyone can be responsible once, anyone can be honest once, but it takes diligence to make those virtues essential parts of your character. The road to success is a long and hard one and you must be willing to force your way past pain and hardship."

"These three virtues are what the entire education method of Stonewall is based on. If you are willing to internalize these virtues in your life that your future will be a bright one. This philosophy is shared among all of the teachers that you will interact with while you are here learning in these halls. All of us are here to help you, but we are also here to push you. Everyday will be a challenge but they will be challenges that we believe you can overcome and that we will support you through."

Here he made a final pause and he looked throughout the room. Harry held his breath when the man's eyes passed over him seeming for a moment to peer into him specifically. He then spoke to close out his speech in a once again calm tone.

"I believe that each of you has great potential to leave the world as a better place. Even if that is by simply living a good life. I welcome all of you to stonewall high."

As soon as he finished his remarks all of the students from 2nd year up began to applaud and cheer. The first years around Harry marveled at the student body around them, wondering how they could be so excited to be at school again. Harry's eyes never left the headmaster who still stood on the stage looking at the crowd of students with pride in his eyes.

When they had finally quieted down the headmaster said his final words of the evening.

"Now, off to the cafeteria with you all. We have a hearty dinner prepared so eat your fill, then get back to the dorms and get some rest you'll be expected to get started bright and early. First year you wait here and Mr. Atkins will lead you to the cafeteria after the rest have filed out."

And with that said the assembly was finally over. The rest of the night was a blur for Harry. He followed the rest of the crowd into the cafeteria and enjoyed a hearty stew with crusty rolls. It was simple food but there was plenty of it so no one had to go hungry. After dinner the first years were brought back to there dorms and told to finish unpacking and to remember the time for lights out.

Soon Harry found himself lying in his bed, having changed into his pajamas, and just thinking about the speech he had just heard. His thoughts were eventually interrupted by the whispered voice of Nish from the bunk below him.

"So," said Nish, "What did you think of the headmaster, eh? The man certainly knows how to speak."

Harry took a moment to consider before giving his answer.

"I have never met anyone quite like him." Harry replied, "All I can say is that I think you were right my relatives thought I would not enjoy this school, but they couldn't have known that I would get to meet people like you or the headmaster here. Now all I can think about is how excited I am about being here."

"Cool" Nish said back.

Harry chuckled at the simple response before bidding his new friend good night and rolling over and trying to fall asleep.