Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

"Filius, I asked you to teach him how to defend himself, what happened?"

"I don't really know how to explain it."

"Well you better start now before I put you in the bed next to him."

Stirring from her slumber due to the voices nearby, Hermione remained still not wanting to interrupt this conversation between the resident nurse and what sounded like her Charms Professor. She wasn't sure who 'him' was but for some reason she had an inkling suspicion, either that or the potions she had taken earlier still had an affect over her.

"I taught him how to shield like you asked and then put it into practical effect, I must admit though that I may have been fairly harsh in teaching him. You must understand though that this isn't something you can simply only do in halves, nobody attacking him will give him time to react. I will state however that none of my attacks were outside of standard dueling rules, nothing that would leave permanent damage in other words."

Hermione heard what she thought was a disapproving scowl. "Continue."

"The thing that surprised me most of all was that there was this fire in his eyes, a deep yearning to prove himself and then after about half an hour of defending it happened."

"What happened?"

"He attacked back."

"I told you to teach him how to defend himself!"

"And I swear to you that is all I taught him but what I didn't know was that I wasn't the only one teaching him."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't pick it at first as I was more impressed by his ability to defend, even without the use of Protego, he would duck, weave and leap out of the way. He was watching my wand fiercely and able to predict where my spell would land, it was quite outstanding but I hazard to think just why he is able to act in such a way."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"At first I was merely intrigued by his attention to detail in regards to my wand movement, but then I realized he was studying it."

"You don't mean..."

"I do. The boy is a natural fighter and is able to pick up spells just from watching his opponent. Such level of talent is extraordinary. Once more though this train of thought is dampened by the reasoning as to why he has this talent. Is it a result of the curse he was struck by as a child, or due to the attacks you told me he sustained in his youth? While the first is possible, I strongly believe it is that latter and when he was set upon by Muggle youths he would watch and react accordingly. Chances were if he were ever to be in a single fist fight he would be able to hold his own, only his lack of muscle strength would prevent him from winning outright."

"And this ability is recreated through him watching the battle before him unfold?"

"It would seem so, I don't know how long we fought in the end but every time I would try something new he would try recreate the movement a dozen times, whilst avoiding attacks mind you, before being able to cast a weakened version of the spell. The boy is gifted I tell you, he just needs to know the remaining elements."

"Pronunciation and intent."

"Precisely. I have no idea whether or not his skill will be relatable to learning from a text or in other areas of magic but I can't wait to find out."

"I, meanwhile, can."

Hermione's eyes snapped open in regards to the sound of the newcomer into the conversation but otherwise she remained motionless. That was a distinct voice that she couldn't misinterpret at all.

"Professor Dumbledore, I wasn't expecting you at this hour. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"There is very little that happens within this castle without my knowledge, the teaching of defensive magic that put a student at risk is something which did peak my curiosity."

"I'm sorry we didn't inform you of this earlier, Headmaster."

"While I can imagine your reasoning is just, I must recommend that you shut down this pet project immediately."

"Why? You believe that he shouldn't be able to defend himself if the need arises?"

"I'm merely afraid of what others may think if it is discovered that we are giving young Harry preferential treatment. This school is a community and it could very well be divided if we were giving special classes to the Boy Who Lived within a fortnight of him having come to Hogwarts. I for one don't wish to step in front of the Board of Governors who believe I condone what they will call blatant favouritism."

"This boy has been mistreated his whole life and you would deny him..."

"Hogwarts should be a place where such knowledge is not needed on a practical level. I have no qualms with him taking the initiative to study ahead but to do so fearing that an attack may come from any other student is not what he should expect. Before you argue once more I must insist on this course of action, lest you wish to test the limits of your positions."

"...Very well then, if you wish to ensure that no prodigy walks these walls then so be it."

"I'm glad you see it my way."

"Before I leave however, on a final note, I believe that Harry has yet to be officially Sorted. From what I have gathered, I will very much like to be informed of when he is placed in Ravenclaw and under my care."

"Young Harry has already been Sorted into Gryffindor and will be under Minerva's care when he is fit to leave."

"I see, Madam Pomfrey. Headmaster, I wish you both good night."

"I shall accompany you Professor Flitwick, the hour is late and I too should be off. Good night Poppy."

"...You can stop pretending to be asleep now."

Hermione stiffened at that before looking over her shoulder to where Poppy was standing, clearly defeated. "How did you..."

"Does it matter?"

"...I guess not," said Hermione slowly. "What was all that about?"

"One thing you will never read in any history book depicting Albus Dumbledore is how hard he works to protect himself. Whether or not his reasoning before was true there is no doubt that the Board of Governors would attack him were they to come up with the belief that we were helping Harry for no other reason than his name. Of course this just would go to further show the bias this school has overall. He proclaims that no student should be ahead but take yourself for example, a first year with no magical background. While you could have potentially picked up a lot out of a textbook anybody born into a Pure Blooded family would have brewed their first potion by the time they were seven."

Hermione swallowed nervously feeling like she was being lectured about the ways of the world around her. A lot of the imagination she had put into the world she had created internally was crumbling down around her. "So Dumbledore..."

"Has many positions of power and will defend them as such. Any discredit that he may suffer now could shape his future for the next decade," stated Poppy.

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Hermione.

"One piece of information that Professor Dumbledore let slip was that Harry will be a part of your house. While we may not be able to aide in helping Harry protect himself nothing was said in regards to peers helping one another learn something outside of their curriculum," said Poppy with a weak smile. Understanding, Hermione smiled in return. "Now Miss Granger, back to sleep with you and please think about your future from here on out."

…

Harry awoke from his sleep still in a little bit of the pain he had been put through the other day. Nothing in comparison to many of the injuries he had sustained and slumbered through in the past and he was thankful that he had been able to fight back, at least a little bit. Any time he had tried to counter against Dudley or his friends he had just been beaten worse, the lot of them mocking him for his lack of strength.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Harry fumbled around on the nearby bedside table until he gripped the frame of his glances. Once he was able to properly see once more he stretched his arms over his head. First thing he wanted to do was track down Professor Flitwick once more and go toe to toe with the diminutive teacher once more.

"Ah, you're awake," said the familiar sound of Poppy. After having spent such a long time with the nurse she had actually given him permission to call her by her first name, a privilege she refused to give any other student.

"Morning," said Harry.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," said Poppy, Harry's momentary happiness shattering immediately. "After you were brought here by Professor Flitwick, Headmaster Dumbledore came in and refused for Filius to teach you anymore."

"What!"

"Professor Dumbledore has a reputation to uphold and he fears that a first year student capable of dueling with spells he shouldn't even be aware of may injure his credibility," explained Poppy. "That doesn't mean that I want you to let up on your Occlumency training however, a firm mind will help you memorize spells and tone your combat abilities."

"But how can I do that without Professor Flitwick?" asked Harry.

"I believe I may have found you a new sparring partner," said Poppy with a cheeky smile as she indicated to the side, Hermione standing there waving her hand nervously.

"Hey Harry."

…

Having dismissed herself, Poppy entered her office and pondered just what would happen now that Harry had encountered a peer that wouldn't be turned away because of his looks. She was glad that there was somebody who wasn't so shallow; her time with the boy had shown that there was a beautiful soul trapped within him. Had he not been a victim of Voldemort's curse so long ago she imagined that he would be turning heads by the time he was in fourth year if not earlier.

The conversations she had had with the child showed that he was intelligent and she was able to pry information out of him regarding how he spent his spare time. While she scolded the fact that a good portion of his knowledge was spent ensuring that the curriculum he was taught was of the highest quality he hadn't pressed forward with his studies; this was likely due to not having any real guidance for his schooling thus far.

Rubbing at her eyes, she silently cursed Dumbledore for interfering the way that he had. The boy needed confidence in himself and his abilities and at the first time of showing true potential in anything it was ripped out from under him. He had seen how quickly the fire in his eyes had become extinguished but other than introducing the boy to Hermione there wasn't much more she could do for Harry. Her role as a nurse was over now that he was healed, school policy stated that once they were cured of any and all ailments preventing them from leaving then they must vacate the sick bay. She knew those rules like the back of her hand and was part of the reason why the administrative doses she had been giving Harry had been diluted in order to slow down his recovery. Those extra couple of days though she had helped him crack out of the cocoon that he had protecting himself but there would unlikely be a transformation anytime soon.

At the end of the day, she had only shown Harry a way out of the darkest pits of his mind that she had seen him in. Whether or not he would fall in once more was hard to say. She could merely pray he wouldn't do anything foolish.

…

For the longest while neither Harry nor Hermione said anything, they merely looked at one another, both at a loss of what to say. For Harry, it was the first time somebody had actually looked at him without making any rude or degrading remarks within the first handful of seconds. There were no venomous glares and whatever was in Hermione's eyes he had also seen within Poppy's. What it was though he still didn't know.

For Hermione she was afraid that she would muck up her first impression (she refused to count the poor conversation they had had on the train). She was afraid that she would open her mouth and the wrong words would come out. Hermione had never been one to break the ice unless it was in regards to a question where there was an absolute answer. She wasn't sure there was an answer to the dilemma in front of her.

"You said your name was Hermione," said Harry doing his best to try and get something of a conversation rolling.

"Yes," she said.

"That's an interesting name."

"I know right."

"…"

"…"

'So much for that,' thought Harry before he spotted the satchel resting from Hermione's shoulder. "How have classes been?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile. Now this was something she could talk about.

...

Sitting in a corner of the library, Harry studiously copied down the notes that Hermione had taken from the classes they were soon destined to share using a spare quill and parchment that Hermione had carried. Harry had to admit that the girl was intelligent, her note taking was quite extensive and almost on par with the amount that he could put down provided he was interested in the subject. Considering the topics were literally magical, he imagined his notes would more than likely rival Hermione's in length.

Looking up from her own work. Hermione could see people speaking to one another with hands covering their mouths, whispering to one another while staring directly at their table. It didn't take much for her to figure out who they were talking about.

"Don't worry about them," said Harry, speaking without looking up from his work.

"How can you just sit there and do nothing?" asked Hermione.

"There's not really much I can do," said Harry as he put down his quill, his work having been completed. "They talk behind my back and shout at my face just because they're afraid of me."

"I don't see anything to be afraid of," said Hermione, their eyes locking onto one another. "All I see is someone like me."

"Like you?"

"As you can see from my work I do my best in everything, even taking notes. I can't remember the last time I didn't get a perfect score on a test. I'm not sure what was shouted at you but you weren't the only one subjected to bullying. Nerd and bookworm were the most common words thrown at me on a daily basis; of course this just made me focus more on my studies even more. All the other girls were talking about the latest doll and I couldn't interact with them. I tried once and they all just laughed at me and called me names. So in the end I think I'm more like you than you think," concluded Hermione, her eyes glistening with tears threatening to stream down her face.

Harry meanwhile bit at the inside of his lip as he contemplated the importance of what Hermione had just told him. Somehow he got the feeling that this was similar to the way she was feeling in classes now, already she was reading material they wouldn't cover for months and he doubted she would slow down anytime soon; he knew that from experience. "So I guess then you're Doctor Frankenstein and I'm your creation then," said Harry in a pitiful attempt of a joke. It did little more than make Hermione chuckle but the tension was removed in the process.

"If you're done I guess we should head to the Common Room before dinner," said Hermione who flinched as she watched Harry's form physically sink. It seemed that while he didn't mind a couple of people at a time whispering about him the concept of being trapped in a room with people you were instructed to treat as your 'family' gripped at his nerves. "Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"No it won't," said Harry.

Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.

…

Ron Weasley had settled into school life like many other first year students, other than he had been late to class on the very first day having gotten hopelessly lost within the corridors. Having grown up surrounded by magic he had the basics in regards to understanding the theory and Percy seemed quite adamant to give him some pointers if he needed it. He knew better though than to ask any of his family for anything more than the bare minimum. Last thing he needed was them sending a letter to his mother stating that he was already falling behind in class.

That didn't mean he had spare time to goof around, already he had made some good friends with his roommates. Seamus, Dean and Neville were all good blokes and he couldn't be much happier with his position within the Gryffindor first years. The four of them had gotten over whatever insecurities they may have had with one another over a couple bags of 'Bertie's Every Flavor Beans.' He still shuddered at the thought of the 'wet fur' one that Neville proclaimed to have gotten.

The one thing that kept the first year students on edge was the unused bed in their dormitory. At the foot of the bed was a trunk much like their own. While none of them would say it outright they all believed that the trunk belonged to the boy who had fled from the dining hall before getting sorted.

He had heard much in regards to Harry Potter as a child, Ginny was infatuated with him after all. He couldn't help but fear the possibility that her dreams would continue when she came to Hogwarts the following year. If that were the case then perhaps it would be best to send a letter to her in the coming weeks telling her just how hideous his peer was. Ron's younger sister deserved only the very best, not somebody like him.

Walking down to the Common Room he wasn't greeted by the usual hustle and bustle that he encountered but rather an eerie silence. He quickly found the reason was because the missing student had returned, as freakish looking as ever. He had only managed to catch a glimpse of Harry on the Hogwarts Express but now that he was standing in the middle of the Lion's Den Ron could get a good look.

It was repulsive.

He watched as Harry observed everybody in front of him, all looking at him in different manners. For the briefest of moments their eyes locked and Ron tore his gaze away, refusing to look at Harry anymore than he had to. Yet Professor Dumbledore had asked him to take study notes to Harry? How could he talk to someone who looked like that?

Somebody however could and to the surprise of everybody there Neville Longbottom walked forwards, introducing himself to Harry and offering to show him where he would be staying. Harry, for lack of a better word, looked oddly surprised and turned to Hermione for guidance. Her only response was a shrug of the shoulders to which Harry sighed before signaling for Neville to lead the way.

The pair of them were given a wide berth as people parted ways not wanting to get in their way. Hushed whispers started spreading from one person to another as the two first year's made their way up the stairs. The female first years rushed towards Hermione, a dozen questions on each of their lips. Ron meanwhile opted to sit in a lounge chair close to the fireplace, it would seem he'd need to send a letter home sooner than he thought he would have to.

…

Harry sat atop the bed he now called his own, the mattress much softer than the one he had camped on in the Hospital Wing. Unlike then though it looked like he wouldn't be allowed to have much privacy; there were no sheets or covers preventing one bed from looking in on another. Theoretically, anybody could look in on him at any given time. That in and of itself was a frightening thought.

Harry looked up at Neville who was in the middle of explaining whose bed belonged to which student, the boy seemingly not phased at all by Harry's appearance. Once more this peaked Harry's curiosity more than anything. Hermione had explained before in the library how she felt somewhat in a similar situation to Harry but at the same time knew nothing about the way he felt. Her explanation had been heartfelt and it seemed she was genuinely interested in trying to make a friend than anything else.

Neville's feelings however were still unclear to Harry.

"Any questions?" asked Neville having concluded his introductory speech.

"Why did you offer to bring me up here?" asked Harry, being as blunt as possible. There was no point in beating around the bush at this point and Harry wanted an honest answer.

Neville stammered for a few seconds, clearly shaken up by the direct question. "Well Harry," he said slowly, taking the time to choose his next words carefully. "Every year my Gran takes me to the hospital to see my parents. When I was a baby they were attacked by a witch called Bellatrix Lestrange. The condition they're in…isn't pretty. I'm their son but they don't know my name and they scream out in pain when they sleep."

By this time Neville had begun to break down into tears and Harry understood that this was hard for him to deal with. Having never been in a situation before where he or someone he knew needed to be comforted he had no real idea what to do. "You were attacked by You-Know-Who only a few days before my family was," said Neville after having taken half a minute to compose himself. "I guess that's why."

"Thank you," said Harry, happy for Neville's honesty, and thankful that he had encountered a few people who actually accepted him. Perhaps this whole Hogwarts idea wouldn't be so bad after all.

…

Professor Dumbledore couldn't help but allow a gentle smile cross his lips as he watched Harry Potter enter the dining hall that evening for dinner. If anybody were watching they would think that the look meant that he was pleased that the young child had returned to their presence. Yet the smile didn't waver as Harry took his place at the end of the Gryffindor table, many of the other students shuffling away from him.

His grin did falter momentarily however as both Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger got too close to Harry to his liking. From what his staff had told him of the first years, Hermione had seemingly been placed into the wrong house and was already leagues above the rest of the class. This was astounding due to her lack of a magical upbringing and she would likely find herself encountering the wrong company when she got out of Hogwarts. It was a shame how they didn't teach in their classes how poorly Muggle born witches and wizards were treated once they had graduated. She'd be lucky to get a part time job selling clothes in Diagon Alley, if she was lucky.

Neville Longbottom meanwhile was on the other end of the spectrum in all categories. Born into a prestigious family with a background spanning more than a dozen generations, it was hard to imagine that his first bout of accidental magic had come only a handful of months before his Hogwarts acceptance letter. So far his teachers had informed him that he struggled with basic concepts and had even successfully managed to blow up his cauldron in his very first potions class. At the end of the day though it didn't matter how competent he was with a wand when he left Hogwarts. Neville would undoubtedly sit upon the Wizengamot, taking up the seat that his grandmother currently held until Neville became of age. With the vast wealth the Longbottom's had he would never have to work a day in his life if he so chose to do so.

Yet for some reason, two students of opposite upbringings had somehow found themselves attached to a student he had assumed would only have friends that he instructed to befriend him. It still wouldn't be impossible to get Ronald Weasley to befriend him but it would need to be done soon. He was sure he could find someway to make the youngest Weasley attending Hogwarts to bow to his whim.

He was Albus Dumbledore after all.

...