Thoughts

*Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry*Scotland*September 1st*Nighttime

-Dumbledore-

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, found himself bemused as he looked at Harry Potter, the boy he had taken to protecting from the advances of the more, unsavoury could be one way to put it, people that would want him for their own gains, of course, he was no different, but his motives were for the greater good, not for the genocide of many.

The boy was not what he expected.

Oh, he had expected an abused, amazed boy, while hoping for a charismatic young lad that would take the mantle of protector of the people when the time came, yet the Potter boy was neither.

He exuded confidence in himself, yet he was cold. He felt knowledgeable yet naïve. Strong yet weak.

There was also something that Minerva had told him, that he was interested in seeing the world, a good thing for a young lad to dream of, but the fact that he had somehow met a muggle born was something he couldn't have imagined in his wildest of predictions, the odds of it happening were simply too low for it to happen, yet it did.

And the way the boy looked at everything in the Great Hall, as if he wanted to cut everything open and find out how the enchantments on the candles, banners and ceiling worked.

He would have to keep an eye in the possessions of the school; it wouldn't do if he kidnapped one of the talking gargoyles of the school just to know how it could speak when it had no flesh to speak of.

He had a feeling that a lot of headaches would come to him during the time that Harry, Harrison, he corrected himself, would spend in Hogwarts, especially if he had the same sense of humour that James had when he had roamed this halls.

His only consolation was that he was friends with a Ravenclaw, thought that could turn out to be just as much a curse as it was a blessing.

-McGonagall-

The Scotswoman Minerva McGonagall or Minnie as only her closest friends dared to call her, paid attention to the son of the two that had been her favourite lions back in the seventies, trying and failing to get a proper read on him.

His first impression more than a month ago had been not really good, as the kid had rudely stopped her from introducing herself, breaking into a discussion with his friend and leaving her confused for the rest of the day.

Then after her visit to the Turpin's, during the visit to Gringott's, the boy had disappeared from everyone's view, just to return later with a book in hand, a trunk behind him and a ring he had not been wearing earlier.

Oh, she knew that it was the Potter Heir Ring, and she knew that the boy should have known about it, but to summon it at age eleven, when most kids only thought about what they wanted for a birthday or Christmas present, he should have at least waited until his OWLs

But if he was half as smart as James and Lily had been, or better yet, smarter than the two, then he could deal with all that being the Head of House entailed.

She could only hope that he was not a rule breaker like his father had been.

But he was just as disrespectful: really, who reads in the middle of a feast when he was supposed be socializing?

But oh well, at least he was talking to Neville Longbottom, though the conversations the Weasly twins had with him were discouraging, especially when the three shook hands and the twins grinned like mad-men.

She would have to make sure the castle stood for the five remaining years the twins had at Hogwarts.

She better ordered some Fire-whiskey in advance.

She could feel the headaches already.

-Flitwick-

Filius Flitwick was a half-goblin, not a midget as many of his younger students thought him as, but a half-goblin with a human father and a goblin mother who he visited every summer.

As such he was much more in tune with his magic and knew when to listen to it and when to ignore the things his body told him, and right now was such a moment.

He knew that the boy had been something especial as soon as he entered the Great Hall, as his magic had been so strong, so controlled, so malleable, if he could compare the aura the Potter boy gave off, it would be that of Ragnock, the current Chieftain of the goblins, who had such a control over his magic that it took him hours to create what other smiths could do in weeks.

But this boy had the same potential of control, but it was rough, without a proper teacher other than experience and experimentations.

Maybe he could offer him the same thing he had offered his mother when Lily had finished Hogwarts; it would feel good to have another apprentice after fifty years.

He heard McGonagall tell that the boy had asked about the armours in the Entrance Hall and chuckled, if the boy was as interested in the more normal kinds of magic as he was in the ancient magic that the Founders had put on the castle, then he would be a joy to teach.

Now he just had to ask why he was reading when there was the chance that food would fall on the book.

Though that chance was low, considering that the boy appeared to be a capable multitasker.

What other explanation was there to move a fork expertly to the plate and the mouth without letting one bit of food to fall off.

Oh yes, he would offer an apprenticeship.

-Pomfrey-

Poppy Pomfrey was a kind woman, unless you were a rebellious teen with no regard for self-care and a pennant for trouble, then she was stern, stubborn and unfeeling woman that would stop at nothing until she was sure you were as good as new.

As she was a nurse in a school where pretty much every student was a rebellious teen, very few ever saw her caring side until after they graduated.

Lily Evans had been an exception to the rule as she had taken time to get to know the matron of the hospital wing by visiting once every weekend during her times at Hogwarts, much like James Potter had done with Hagrid, the half-giant groundskeeper.

Because of this she had not been surprised when Lily asked her to be the mid-witch at the birth of her son.

Then there was James Potter, who had been a constant enough habitant of the Hogwarts hospital wing to get to see both sides of the matron, and as such she started to develop a bit of a soft spot for him as well as Lily.

That was why she had been paying close attention to Harry Potter, Harrison, as he had told McGonagall, the son of both of her children, as she thought of every child that she cared for in more than five occasions that passed the overnight stay.

Against her own wishes she had been blocked from trying to claim guardianship over him after the death of the Potters, but that did not mean that she would stop trying to care for the child of two of her favourites.

Her first thought as soon as she saw him was that he was a healthy kid, if slightly short, but the developing muscles she could see were enough to counter the shortness.

The second thing she noticed was that he seemed to have Lily's eyes, fully hers, as they were not hidden by the glasses that James had been forced to wear since he was seven.

His face was mostly James's though, with the exception of the nose and eyes.

His build was like neither though, as where Lily had been petite and James lanky, the way she would describe Harry would be athletic, and dare she say it, though she hoped he would not go there, a perfect fit for the seeker position at quiditch.

Though she had to wonder if he was interested in sports with how he was reading.

He read at an amazing pace, nearly a page a minute.

Which was good, that way he would only visit for colds and the like.

-Snape-

Severus Snape did not know what to think of the child of his nemesis and his love.

His looks drove him to hate the boy: the same messy hair, the same face, the same aura. It just screamed Potter at him, and he hated anything Potter.

His eyes drove him to care for the boy; they were all Lily, the same almond shape, the same shade of emerald, the same depth.

He did not know what to make of the boy, but with how he looked and the arrogance the boy was displaying by not paying attention to those around him by reading during a time to socialize, he was leaning towards hating him.

Even more so because he was a Gryffindoor, only Ravenclaws were morally allowed to read during meal times.

The fact that he was flawlessly doing it while eating was also something he was slightly envious of, after all, if he could do that when making a potion it would be easy to prepare the ingredients during the stage before they were needed, and then he would not need more time than the needed to prepare the potion itself, leaving him more time to himself.

Back to the topic at hand, he would probably hate Potter before the year was over, especially if he learned of the life debt he owned to Potter because of Black.

He was already forced to watch over the little brat, he would probably kill himself if the brat started to gloat about it.

Cut, that is it for now, if it seems forced it is because, at the beggening at least, it was the only thing I could come up with, but I find myself pleased with the results, especially from Flitwick onwards.

Right, now, onto bussiness, there will be a two week hiatus, until I finish my finals, which start tomorrow and don't end until June's first week.

Nothing more to say, only to hope that the muse of this story comes back when the time to write comes back.