Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One doesn’t have to be a genius or excel at everything for them to be a prodigy. No. What they need to be was passionate. Passionate about a particular subject or two. Because if you were passionate about it, if you could love it, you would actually be bothered to put some effort in it. More than some effort, actually. You would enjoy it, which would make you want to study or do it more, just to see if you can accomplish a bit more or just to enjoy yourself or your victories. The cycle goes on and eventually you are hailed as a prodigy if said subject or subject.

This was the opinion – no, firm belief – of one Ronald Bilius Weasley. Now, this was not an unfounded belief. Indeed, it was his own family that helped him come to this conclusion. Not willingly, of course. Instead, this belief came from observing his family in those moments when nobody seemed to notice him, too busy with bragging about Percy or scolding Fred and George for a prank or something along those lines.

He couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed (okay, maybe a little bit annoyed) by Percy’s constant bragging. Or be angry at the Twins for all the pranks that they played on him, though the tarantula incident came close. He knew Ginny was sneaking the brooms out to practice flying discreetly, since none of her big brothers would let her fly. Ron always made sure to watch her, hidden from view, but he didn’t tell anyone.

Because he knew that they were all brilliant in their own ways. Percy was always the top in every subject and he could study all day long without pause and he could memorize and retain information in a way that Ron could never hope to. Fred and George always liked to fool around, but he could see the brilliance in their pranks, even if he sometimes didn’t like them, mostly when they were played on him. It couldn’t be easy to mix so many aspects of magic and their own surroundings to for a coordinated and perfectly timed prank. And Ginny…. she had more talent to spare than she let on.

Bill and Charlie were nothing short of geniuses in their own fields. He had seen Bill tear through advanced books of Ancient Runes so fast it made his head spin. And people said Charlie could be a shoo-in for the Quidditch national team if he tried. Though if the way Charlie was around animals was anything to go by, he had something other than Quidditch as career in mind.

Even his parents! No one who ate Molly Weasley’s home cooked meal would dare complain against it; it was that good. Ron had heard that she had been pretty good at Defense Against Dark Arts in school, always in the top three. And his father … people thought his father was an underachiever. They couldn’t be more wrong. His father might not be as informed about the Muggle world as he would like to be. But his knowledge of charming and enchanting muggle objects far surpassed than anything he heard of. And as a son of the Head of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, he heard a lot.

He could give countless more examples. Luna Lovegood, his sister’s friend, who had a knack for figuring out just what was wrong with a certain spell or a certain situation or even a person. That muggle neighbor of his that wrote the most beautiful poems. The woman who owned the bakery just five minutes’ walk away from his home; she could bake a mean cake. Point was, everyone was good at something and everyone enjoyed doing something they were good at. Therefore, everyone, in their own little ways, was a prodigy at something.

That was what Ron liked to belief. Problem was, he couldn't quite figure out what he was supposed to be a prodigy of. Of course, there was chess. He loved playing chess and he was, to his surprise, quite good at it. It was like he could see not only three moves ahead, but also the several number of moves that could be alternatives, all the moves that could be used to counter those moves and all the moves he could use to overcome those counters. He could sit in front of a chess board and play with himself in his mind all day long.

But what he couldn't really figure was how that would help him. He knew enough now to know that knowing chess wouldn't help him much, not in terms of education and career. Playing chess was well and all but he didn't know how he could apply that in real life. A frown made its way to his face. It was times like these, when he was alone with his own thoughts, that his mind usually took more somber routes like this.

"Ron?" His sister's soft voice drifted from the doorway. He looked up and tilted his head to see him peering at him from behind the door. She smiled at him. "Playing with yourself again?"

He grinned. "It's not my fault that nobody seems to be able to compete with me."

"Prat!" But she was grinning back. "Bet Harry Potter could!"

He shook his head. His sister had recently bought the Harry Potter Adventures books. She hadn't even read through them and she was completely enamoured with the boy in the books, even the that boy most probably wasn't real. Really, what kind of a five year old went against an adult Dragon and survives? Even if the boy had somehow survived the nastiest Dark Lord to have ever lived….

That brought another thought to his mind. What was Harry Potter good at? Could he be good at chess, like Ron himself was? Or was he good at something else, like Defence? Wouldn't be a stretch. He supposed he would find out in a few years' time, when he went to school. Harry Potter was supposed to enter school the same year as he. It would be interesting, if nothing else.

A pillow smacking against his face brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see his little sister hovering over him, a frown on her face that was eerily reminiscent to that of one Molly Weasley. He shuddered. His sister would be a force to be reckoned with when she grew up.

"Really, Ron. Don't get lost in your own head again. Come on, come on! I still haven't read the last chapter of 'Harry Potter and the Curse of the Clock'! Read it to me, come on!" She ranted as she grabbed his hand and started tugging with a strength that was usually belied by her tiny figure.

Ron didn't budge. "Why can't you read it yourself?"

"Because I'm feeling really sleepy and you know I can't read when I'm sleepy but I wanna know what happens next so you're gonna have to read it to me. Nobody else will. I wanna know if Harry really saved the villagers or not!"

"Ginny," he levelled a pointed stare towards her. "You do realise that all of those are rubbish, right? The real Harry Potter isn't going around the world saving people."

"Hmph! How do you know?" She huffed but didn't give him a chance to answer. "Anyway, it doesn't matter! I wanna know what happens next! Come on!" She repeated as she kept on tugging his hand.

He rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation. "Alright, Alright!" He said as he got up and followed Ginny, making sure to turn the lights off and close the door behind him.

He followed her into her bedroom and waited as she made herself comfortable on her bed before he grabbed the book from the nightstand, eyeing the cover. It showed an illustration of Harry Potter, a pale boy with black unruly hair and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead, hazel eyes glinting in the dark, standing with wand in hand with a broken Clock Tower behind him and a cloud covered night sky that was crackling with lightning all over. Really… where did they even get these ideas?

"What are you waiting for, Ron?" Ginny asked. "Come on!"

Ron sighed and pulled a chair beside the bed and sat on it. He opened the book to the last chapter and began to read.

"Harry made his way up the creaky, half broken stairs, wand clutched tightly in a white knuckled grip as his eyes darted around…."

He kept reading, eventually hearing soft snores from his sister. He stopped reading and looked up, a small smile spreading across his lips as he stared at her peaceful face. He ran a hand over her forehead. He didn't know what he would be good at, or if he could be good at anything, other than chess. He didn't know what the future held for him. But he could worry about that later. There was plenty of time before he could need to decide anything. Now, he just wanted to enjoy every moment with his family.

He sighed again, closing the book and glancing at the cover once again.

What was Harry Potter good at though?

Chapter Text

Harry Potter was living a life that was nowhere near the imaginations of Witches and Wizards. Not even the man who placed him there.

You see, the people he lived with hated him for his magic, and were afraid of it as well. Not that Harry knew that. All he knew was that they blamed him for all the strange things that happened around him, for some reason. Not that he didn't understand where they were coming from. Freaky things happened around him or with him.

A person's hair just didn't grow back overnight. A wig didn't turn blue out of nowhere. One didn't just somehow teleport to the roof of a building from the ground. But all these had happened around one Harry Potter.

Of course, he didn't know what was causing all this and his relatives refused to believe him. That resulted in his home life being less than pleasant. Oh, they didn't hit him. Lord, no! Normal people didn't hit children. But that didn't mean they didn't hurt him. You see, contrary to what people say, words can hurt more than any number of sticks or stones. And that was exactly what the Dursleys used.

They made it clear that they didn't like him, forced chores on him ever since he could remember, gave him only scrapes to eat and his cousin Dudley's hand-me-downs, spread rumours about him being an unruly child around the neighborhood. He never received the slightest affection, while Dudley got everything single thing he wanted. It wasn't fair! Why should Dudley get all those things? What did he do to deserve it? It drove another wedge in little Harry's heart from the fact that he would never have the love and affection he craved.

Currently, Harry was being chased around the neighbourhood by his cousin Dudley and gang, in yet another game of 'Harry Hunting'. Harry ran for his life, even as his legs started to tire out. He couldn't get caught. He still had the bruises from the last time.

They were nearing the park now, and there weren't many buildings around. Being fast on his feet, he turned the corner and darted into the first open door he saw, without checking the sign. The bullies rounded the corner a moment later and, unfortunately, saw him entering the building.

"He's in there! Get him!" He heard Dudley's voice, followed by several footfalls that told him they were following him inside.

Harry ran into the first room that he found; he looked around and froze.

He was standing in a laboratory.

There were strange instruments and glasses on the table and the cabinets at the back of the room contained a number of bottles with strange liquids in them.

He all but forgot his chasers, as his interest was zigzagged between the tables and chairs until he reached the cabinet and peered at the bottles. They were labelled with strange names: HCl, Ca(OH)2, NaOH, CaCO3 and so many others! He could understand none of them, though. Why did these bottles have labels with random letters and numbers? Did they mean something? Were they symbols of some kind?

He was just about to open the door to the shelf, when he was jerked back to reality when, he heard shouts and loud footsteps from the outside. "Where is he?" he heard Dudley shout. "Where's the freak?!" Harry suppressed a gasp and quickly darted under the nearest bench.

"Find him!" His cousin shrieked.

There were some shuffling and scattered footsteps in the hallway before he heard Piers Polkiss' voice just outside the room he was in.

"Hey! This door is open! I'm going in!"

Harry clamped his hands over his mouth as the door creaked open, shifting his eyes just enough to see the a pair of feet enter his line of vision through the doorway.

He gulped. The gang of five were bad enough on a regular day when he didn't do anything. Today, he had tripped Piers while trying to escape them. He didn't want to find out what would happen when they caught him.

But luck seemed to be on Harry's side and he didn't need to find out just what would've happened. No sooner had the boy taken a step into the classroom than the bell rang.

Harry saw Piers stop in his track. The hallway was silent for a moment, and then, there was an explosion of noise. The loud sound of footsteps seemed to be coming from every which way, along with hundreds of voices that were echoing in the hallway.

"Crap!" Harry heard Piers hiss to his friends. "I forgot. Secondary school classes run longer. We have to go! We can't get caught here. Mum will ground me for ages!"

Harry felt alarmed. This was a secondary school? He peeked out from under the bench and looked around. Why was there a laboratory in a secondary school?.

There was murmur of agreement from the other boys and Harry heard them shuffle away from the classroom. He waited for a few moments to see if they were coming back. When he heard only the loud and heavy footsteps of, what he presumed, were the older students, he cautiously started to crawl out.

But Piers' bad luck seemed pounce on him now, and as soon as his head emerged from under the table, the door banged open. Harry saw a sea of legs as students poured in. Harry gasped and quickly drew back under the table. If Piers couldn't get caught, then that went double for Harry. If Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon got slightest whiff that he was somewhere he wasn't supposed to be… he didn't want to think how many nights in the cupboard without food that would bring.

Fortunately, it seemed that his gasp had been drowned by the outpour of chatter and the scrapping of benches as students took their made himself small and clamped his hands over his mouth, not daring to move from his hiding spot, praying that no one would find him.

For once, it seemed, his prayers were answered. No one sat at the table he was under. He cautiously peeked through the legs and saw all the seats except a few in his row was filled up.

The door opened again- this time more gently - and immediately silence fell. Soft footsteps echoed around the room as a man (was it a man?) entered it. From what he could see, Harry guessed this was the teacher. He was proven right as the man - definitely a man - made straight for the table at the front.

"Afternoon, class," he said in a deep voice and paused for a moment. "It seems we have quite a few absentees today." Huh, thought Harry, that explains it. He thanked his lucky stars that those students chose today of all days to remain absent. "I hope you've done your assignments. Please hand it in right now."

Once again, there was the sound of shuffling as all students made their way up to the front table to put their assignments there. Harry kept still, hoping he wouldn't be spotted by any of the students who were returning to their respective seats. He only relaxed when they all settled down once more.

He was small for his age, looking more like a 5 year old boy instead of the 7 years old that he actually was. So it wasn't too uncomfortable there. It seemed he would have to stay there for a while. He had to be back home in an hour though. He hoped this class would end before then. Being late meant more chores tomorrow.

"Today's topic," the man said, the noise of a marker dragging across the whiteboard reaching Harry's ears, "is double displacement. Who can tell me what that is?"

There was a pause and several hands were thrown up into the air. "Yes, Mr. Langley?" said the teacher.

A boy spoke from somewhere in the front. "It's a reaction where two compounds are used at reactants and two compounds are received as products."

"Yes, that would be the simplest way to put it," the teacher responded. "A double displacement reaction," he started, "also known as a double replacement reaction or metathesis, is a type of chemical reaction where two compounds react, and the positive ions, cation, and the negative ions. anion, of the two reactants switch places, forming two new compounds or products. The overall pattern of a double displacement reaction looks like this."

Once again, there was the sound of the marker across the board, but this time, it was accompanied with the scratching of pen across paper, as the students jotted down notes. A few seconds later, the noises ceased and the teacher spoke again.

"You can think of the reaction as swapping the cations or the anions, but not swapping both since you would end up with the same substances you started with," he said, "the solvent for a double replacement reaction is usually water, and the reactants and products are usually ionic compounds—but they can also be acids or bases."

Harry's head spun as he listened to the man's speech. Cations? Anions? What on earth were those? He had heard about acids before. Uncle Vernon said that those were really harmful things that burned your skin if you touched them. Did people really learn about such things when they were older? Wasn't that dangerous? And what was a base anyway?

He was brought out of his internal questioning as the teacher started speaking again. "Here is an example of a double replacement reaction." Again, there was the sound of the teacher writing on the board and the students copying down whatever he wrote, even as he kept speaking. "In this example, the cations are Barium and Sodium ions, and the anions are Chloride and Sulphate ions . If we swap the anions, or cations, we get as our products Barium Sulphate and Sodium Chloride."

Unknown to the occupants of the room, Harry was on the verge of developing a headache trying to follow what the man was saying. He didn't understand anything! He didn't like not understanding. Even as he continue to (deliberately) do worse than Dudley in class, there wasn't a single thing that he couldn't understand.

When the teachers taught them addition and subtraction, when they started teaching them stuff like how sun was also a star and all the stars together are called galaxies, he caught on faster than most of his classmates And here, he couldn't understand a single thing! It was so frustrating and yet, he found it interesting. He didn't understand all those new terms and words. But he believed he did understand the concept. If you mixed two different things, liquids in this case, you would get two new and completely different things!

The thought sent his mind down an imaginary hill. How was that even possible? How can you get two completely different substances? It was almost like… magic. But, that was silly. Magic didn't exist. He didn't need Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to tell him that. He was sure there was a perfectly reasonable, normal explanation for that.

"Today, we will be discussing precipitation and neutralization reactions. Mostly the precipitation reaction." Harry turned his attention back to what the teacher was saying. "Both are a kind of double displacement reaction. A precipitation reaction is when two aqueous ionic compounds form a new ionic compound that is not soluble in water. For example, both lead nitrate and potassium iodide are white solids that can be dissolved in water to make clear, colorless solutions. When you combine the two clear solutions, you get the following reaction."

There was a pause as the teacher wrote something on the board and the students jotted it down, before the teacher continued. "When we mix these two clear solutions, we will get a beautiful golden solid. This will be our fun little experiment!" He sounded absolutely giddy at the prospect. There was a murmur of excitement among the students as well.

"But that is after we finish today's discussion," he said and the murmurs died down. "Now, the insoluble product compound is called the precipitate. The solvent and soluble components of the reaction are called the supernatant or supernate. We can use solubility rules to predict whether a precipitation reaction will take place. The formation of a solid precipitate is the driving force that makes the reaction proceed in the forward direction."

"Now, for the neutralization reaction," he continued. "Neutralization reactions are a type of double replacement reaction that occurs between an acid and a base. This…" again a pause for writing, "is an example of a neutralization reaction. An aqueous neutralization reaction generally produces water and a new ionic compound, also called a salt. We will discuss this in detail in the next class. For now, the experiment!" Then came the sound of a clap that was most probably given by the teacher. "Everyone, form groups of four, grab a table and let's get to work!"

There was a few moments of chaos as the students shuffled to form groups, presumably with their friends. Harry sighed. He wondered what it was like to have friends. As the class settled down, he cautiously peered around once again. Now that there were groups of four at each desk, all the students were clustered among the first few rows. But he still couldn't get out. He would surely be spotted if he was the only one moving. But it seemed safe to watch for now.

"Alright, class," said the teacher - a middle aged man with a few grey strands in his otherwise brown hair - as he walked to tables, handing something out, "I'm giving you guys five grams each of lead nitrate and potassium iodide. What you need to do is make stock solution of each. Take a glass tube, pour 30 milliliters of distilled water in it, then pour in one of the powders. Then cover the mouth of the tube with a rubber stopper and shake so it dissolves well. Repeat it again with the other compound."

He said as he reached the last desk and put what Harry assumed was the - what was it again? - oh, yeah, compounds the man mentioned. It just seemed like wrapped paper to him. But as the students unfold the papers, Harry could see white powder in them. The teacher continued as he made his way to the front desk.

"And then pour one of the stock solution into another, clean glass tube. And the pour some of the other solution into it. And you should have your golden precipitate. Simple enough. Go ahead!"

Harry watched as the students followed the instructions to the letter, eyes following each movement. There was a sharp intake of breath from him as he watched the clear solution turn slowly into a beautiful golden hue as the other solution (What was a solution anyway? As far as he knew, solution meant finding answer to a problem) was poured into it. He watched, mesmerised, as the clear solution turned a beautiful molten gold, with a glittering satin-like quality. Harry heard the teacher direct the students to heat the liquid and watched as it became tiny, clear, solid golden particles falling to the bottom of the glass.

He didn't want to believe it at first, but, it was right in front of his eyes! It was like magic. But it wasn't, it was science. He was sure of it. He wanted to do that! It looked so beautiful. Not to mention fun. And like magic! Ugh, he didn't know why he kept fixating on that point.

All of the students seemed to have gotten it right. He could see them many of them grinning at each other. "Perfect," the teacher's voice came from the front. "Now, our time's almost up. Your homework will be to write down an essay about precipitation reaction, definition, mechanism, elass."

As soon as he finished speaking, the bell rang. Instantly, the noise level in the room went up as the students started to stuff their things into their bags while talking to their friends. He stared at them for a few moments, watching until they started to leave. It was now or never. He cautiously got out from under the table and looked around. No one seemed to notice him. Good.

He slipped into the small gap between the first column of seat and the wall adjacent to the door. He was small enough for it. He crawled his way towards the door, the students too engrossed among themselves to notice him, especially in so small a space. As the last student walked out, he reached close enough to the door and cautiously peered around the leg of the desk he was beside of. Seeing the teacher was busy with the assignments handed in at the start of the class, Harry quickly darted out of the room and into the crowd of teenagers who were now running to their respective classes.

He darted between them with quiet, nimble and surprisingly - or perhaps not - agile steps. In their hurry to get to class, nobody seemed to notice him. Or if they did, they didn't say anything. Harry didn't stop until he had put some distance between himself and the building. He hunched over, putting his hands on his knees and panting. He looked back after a moment, his eyes widening as he saw the huge board at the front of the building.

Stonewall Secondary School

That was the school Uncle Vernon always spoke of sending him to. For the first time since who-knew-when, he felt a grin spreading across his face. If that was the kind of thing he was going to be taught at that school, then he couldn't wait to go. At least, that was one good thing Uncle Vernon would actually do for him. He couldn't wait to learn that stuff!

He looked down at his watch. It was a hand-me-down, the glass cracked. But it worked well enough. He sighed. Only ten minutes before he had to be home. Shaking his head, he gave a longing look towards the direction of his future school before sprinting towards Number Four, Privet Drive. He needed to be home in time. He would go and browse some books in the library tomorrow, see if he couldn't find something about the stuff he saw and heard today.

No one said he couldn't get an early start.

It seemed, as one Ron Weasley would say, that Harry Potter had found something to be a prodigy at.

Chapter Text

That day, Harry managed to reach home just seconds before his time was up. His aunt glared at him and sniffed in disdain at his disheveled appearance, but hadn’t reprimanded him. He had actually been on time. She snapped at him to clean himself up and get to work. He just gave a meek nod in answer and scurried off into the bathroom.

Thankfully, the day passed without any major incidents. He managed to do all his chores and finish making dinner. The thought that Dudley would reveal where he had been and get him into trouble did cross his mind and left him tensed. They weren’t supposed to go that far from the neighborhood without adults. 

But to his surprise, Dudley didn’t say anything. He just kept glaring at Harry. It took a few moments for Harry to realize that saying anything would reveal that they had been there as well. And while the Dursleys let their child get away with a lot, turning a blind eye to his misbehavior while deluding themselves with the belief that their son was the perfect child, Dudley and Harry both knew that he would most probably mean the youngest Dursley would be in trouble for such blatant disregard for safety instructions. 

Of course, for Dudley, trouble just meant one or two of his toys being taken away and maybe a day without cake. It wasn’t much compared to what Harry would be put through. But for Dudley, it might as well be the end of the world. So he kept quiet but kept sending looks his way that promised pain. Harry suppressed a shudder and quietly served dinner, tuning out Uncle Vernon’s rant about his work, his boss, his neighbors and just about everything that displeased him.

That night, when he went to bed after eating his small portion from the leftovers and doing the dishes, he felt strangely giddy, anticipating the next day, something quite unusual for him. The feeling followed him into his dreams and well into the morning.

He woke up way before he was supposed to. He knew by the lack of the distinct screeching that was his aunt calling him to wake up. That and the lack of chirping birds outside. He lay there, wide awake, staring at the dark ceiling, his mind refusing to go back to slumber and instead deciding to imagine all the things he would learn. What those symbols and numbers meant, how to do those ‘reactions’ the secondary school teacher talked about, how to get one substance from a completely different one. He wondered if he would be able to do those experiments that those students did. Probably not. They had to be incredibly hard if one had to be in secondary school to do them.

He was brought out of his musings by a sharp rap on his door and the shriek of “Get up boy!” that followed it. He winced at the volume but replied nonetheless. “Coming!” he yelled before feeling for his glasses where he always kept them. It didn’t take him long to make himself presentable - by his standards, at least - before he threw open the door.

His aunt was standing there, impatiently tapping her foot and glaring at him as if he spilled mud all over her favourite white carpet. “Clean up and get started on breakfast,” she snapped at him before turning on her heel and walking off without even bothering to see his response. A resigned sigh escaped him. He knew better than to expect anything more from … his family, but that didn’t stop him from wishing for it to be so deep down. 

One hour later found Harry trying not to bounce on the balls of his feet in anticipation or tapping one foot in impatience much like his aunt had. He knew he had to restrain himself. His ‘family’ usually made every effort to make sure to deprive him of anything that made him excited or happy. But still, he couldn’t stop questioning what he would otherwise have never dared to.

Why was Aunt Petunia taking so long to finish? How can Dudley eat so much, so fast but still need so much time? Did Uncle Vernon have to complain about everything while eating?

When they finally - finally - finished, it took all he had not to rush. He put the dishes in the sink as quickly as he could while trying to seem calm. After he was done, he went to his cupboard and grabbed the things he needed to before making his way out of the house. Now that he knows his way to school and is capable of walking there, the Dursleys didn't bother taking him. He just made sure to leave earlier to reach their on time.

He walked calmly until he rounded the corner and was out of sight of most of the nosy residents of Privet Drive. He didn't need more rumors about the child delinquent spreading. He glanced around once to make sure no one was watching. And then he sprinted.

The good thing about being skinny and small was that he was fast on his feet. Very, very fast. He made good time. He didn't stop until he reached the school, huffing and panting. The clock at the front of the building said he still had about fifteen minutes before the bell for the first class rang.

He took a moment to regain his breath and calm his wildly being heart. And then he dashed inside, a grin forming on his lips. His legs carried him almost without conscious thought and soon enough, he found himself in front of the library.

He had only ever gone inside this place to hide from Dudley. The numerous books had roused his curiosity but he had never lingered longer than he had to. He regretted that now, as he saw the vast amount of books and shelves, having no idea where to start.

He glanced at the librarian, a middle aged woman, and saw that she was engrossed in her own book. He let out a soft sigh of relief. The woman had always looked down on him over her glasses and wrinkled her nose as if he was an ugly and particularly bothersome bug.

As quietly as he could, he made his way towards the shelf, tiptoeing to make sure his footsteps weren't heard. He walked between the aisles, scanning the books, trying to find anything familiar with what he had heard in that class. But there were so many books! From bright and colourful with large letters on the cover like he remembered from his very first classes of school to thick and dim coloured covers with difficult words on their spine like he had seen in the hands of older students. He tried to look among those books, trying to find anything remotely familiar. But no such luck. He couldn't even read half the words without having to spell them!

The bell rang and he realised with a start that his fifteen minutes were up. He cursed under his breath and turned around, walking as quickly and quietly as he could, not noticing the pair of eyes following him out of the library. Once he was out, he sprinted once again, praying that he would make it to the class before the teacher. It seemed whatever deity was listening was feeling merciful for once and he barely made into his seat when the teacher entered the class. 

The bell for recess couldn't have rung sooner. He was getting so very impatient and his legs were starting to get numb from sitting in the same place. As soon as he heard the bell, he was flying out of the door, not even pausing at the teacher yelling at him to stop running. This was normal behaviour for him by now. Teachers saw it as troublemaking. He saw it as a way to get away from Dudley and find a place to hide before he got into the mood for Harry Hunting. He didn't always succeed but he always tried.

But today he had another reason. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry and soon he was in front of the very place he had left in failure that morning. He took a deep breath. 'Alright. Recess. Half an hour. Let's do this!' After that small and half successful attempt at encouraging himself, he stepped inside and…

… came face to face with librarian, looking down at him sternly. He suppressed a grimace. That wasn't good. The librarian firmly believed him a troublemaker and if she booted him out… he couldn't think of anywhere else he could find the information he wanted.

"What are you doing here, boy?" She said, her voice stern and deep. "Causing trouble again? I won't have that here, I tell you."

Harry quickly shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said, "I just want to read."

The woman's eyebrows rose in clear disbelief. "Do you really expect me to believe that?" She almost growled.

"I, uh…." He scoured his mind for a plausible excuse, however flimsy, something that the woman would believe, since she definitely wouldn't believe the truth. "I… I need to study something!" He said quickly. "Aunt Petunia said I have to do as well as Dudley in the next exam or I will be punished. I would rather not be punished, ma'am."

The woman looked down at him suspiciously and opened her mouth, no doubt to interrogate him further, when another voice spoke up behind her. "Oh let it be, Miss Smith. He wants to study. Let him!" 

Harry craned his neck slightly to see who was speaking. It was a young girl, probably the same age as those students he had seen in secondary school, maybe a bit older, a head full of curly black hair framing her face.  She was looking at the librarian. "And besides," she spoke again, "he's a student. You know we can't refuse a student unless they have caused trouble inside the library." 

The librarian frowned and glanced back at Harry, who tried to look as innocent as possible. Guessing from the look in the woman's eyes, she didn't believe it one bit. But before either of them could say anything, the girl spoke up again. " Oh come on, Miss Smith. How much trouble can a seven years old cause? If it helps, I'll keep an eye on him."

The librarian - Miss Smith, he reminded himself - looked at the girl before scoffing. "Fine. But if he causes anything, it's on your head." And with another suspicious glance thrown his way, the woman stalked off.

The girl sighed and smiled at him. "I'm sorry about her," she said, "Feel free to explore and don't cause any trouble, okay? I don't want to lose this job."

She must be new around here, Harry mused. Otherwise, there was no way she would be so nice to him. She would be frowning down at him suspiciously like the librarian. His image of being a delinquent was firmly planted into the minds of the residents of Little Whinging. 

He nodded, wishing that this nice girl would always remain nice to him. He knew it wasn't possible. Soon, she would hear all the rumors about him and would scorn him like everybody else. But, he supposed, it would be nice while it lasted.

A smile spread across her lips and her ruffled his hair. If she noticed the flinch that overcame him at the contact, she didn't show it. He watched for a moment as she skipped away, before sighing and making his way towards the shelves. Once again, he started walking between them, this time paying careful attention to the titles on both sides. As a result, it took twice as long as before to make a tour of one aisle. 

He repeated the process on the next two aisles before letting out a soft sigh. This was taking way too long. At this rate, it would take a week before he could find anything! He bit his lip and glanced at the broken watch on his wrist. Only ten minutes left! He bit his lip in frustration. So many more shelves left, he wouldn't be able to find…. He paused as his eyes caught something. He turned around, his eyes already scanning the titles at the place that caught his eye. 

No, no, no, n-..... there! Chemical Reactions For Beginners…. Bingo! The teacher had definitely talked about reaction.

He rushed to the shelf and reached for it, only to realise that the book was only his out of his reach. He clenched his tiny fist - so close, he was so close! He looked around. His eyes lit up as he found a stool. It took him a few minutes and quite a bit of effort to drag it over as quickly as he could. But he managed. 

Balancing himself on the tool, he felt a surge of triumph as his hand closed around the book. He did a mental fist pump and got off the stool. Quickly, he opened the book to the first page, not even bothering to find a place to sit, and started reading.

Chemical reaction is a process in which one or more substances, the reactants, are converted to one or more different substances, the products. Substances are either chemical elements or compounds. A chemical reaction rearranges the constituent atoms of the reactants to create different substances as products. This rearrangement happens due to exchange of electrons among the reactants In these reactions, the number of atoms and molecules in the products are the same as that in the reactants….

Harry snapped the books shut, feeling a headache coming on. He was on the verge of pulling at his hair in frustration. He didn't understand half of what they were saying. What were atoms and molecules? What were elements and compounds? What was an electron? How was it exchanged? Why was it exchanged? So many questions and no answers. And he hadn't even finished reading the first paragraph! How was he going to learn anything like this?

"Need help?" A voice said from behind him. He almost jumped and turned around so fast he almost got whiplash. His first instinct was to hide the book, too used to being scolded and blamed for things out of his control. And then he realised he was doing this with permission. He shifted, eyeing the girl warily.

She didn't seem to notice and smiled instead, her eyes crinkling. "That's probably a bit too advanced for you. That book is for those who want to get a bit extra studying done for secondary school. You, little boy, have to start from the basics."

Harry hesitated for a moment and then spoke. "Basics?" 

"Mm-hm!" She nodded cheerfully. "After all, you can't learn words or make sentences unless you know your letters first."

He frowned at that, his lips in a pout. He heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up. The girl seemed to be holding her breath and clenching her teeth, keeping herself back from making some sort of noise. He tilted his head and her eyes widened as if in response. She quickly turned around, clenching and unclenching her fists and taking deep breaths. His frown deepened. Girls were weird. 

Finally, tired of waiting for an explanation, he spoke up. "I know that. But… what has that got to do with …. this?" He asked softly as he held up the book. She seemed to take a moment to compose herself before she turned around. She then walked to him and plucked the book from his hand.

"Because this," she started as she showed him the front of the book, "contains information you won't understand unless you know the abc's of chemistry. Elements, compounds, atoms, molecules, protons, neutrons, electrons - these and many more things, you need to know before you can read this level of book."

He nodded, now understanding what she was trying to say. "So … I have to learn the letters first." He said, now following her metaphors.

She grinned. "Now you're taking!"

He smiled back hesitantly. "Can… can you show me those books?"

"Way ahead of you," she said as she straightened. "Wait here!" And then she skipped over what seemed to be the children's section. He was an idiot. He should have checked there first. 

When she came back, it was with several books balanced in her arms. She handed them to him. They were all books with colourful covers. He scanned the titles.

What are Atoms?

What is Density?

What is Our World Made Of?

The Solid Truth About Matter.

Molecule Mayhem.

These were the ones he could glean off at first glance. He looked up at her smiling face. "These are for books for kids," she said, "and they will walk you through the very basics of chemistry. Your classes should start these topics in the next year or something…. Oh well, it never hurts to stay ahead."

He opened her mouth to say something when the bell rang again. His eyes widened. The recess was over! He bit his lip and looked down at the books. He won't be able to read these now. The small smile that had tugged at his lips turned upside down. He sighed and looked up at the girl with the intention of giving them back, only to find her looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

After a moment, she smiled again and spoke. "Tell you what? You can take two of these books home with you. I'll handle the librarian."

He bit his lip. "Are you sure? What if you get in trouble?!" He definitely didn't want her to get in trouble because of him.

She laughed and ruffled his hair again. "I won't." She said, confident. "Go ahead and choose."

Harry looked down at the books for a long moment before deciding on the two that caught his eyes the most - What are Atoms? and The Solid Truth About Matter.

As he gave the rest of them back to her, she nodded. "Good choice." She said softly. "Put them in your bag and get out of here before you get late for classes." He nodded and stuffed the books in his, thankfully, oversized bag. 

"One more thing," she said, making him look up. "What's your name, kid? I helped you out so it's fair I should know."

He paused and hesitated. She was right, of course. But if he revealed his name…. it was entirely possible she had heard the rumours and would be upset upon putting a face to the name. After a moment of deliberation, he sighed in resignation. It wasn't like he could refuse her after she helped him thus much. He wasn't Dudley!

"I'm Harry…. Harry Potter."

At the sight of her eyes widening upon hearing his name, Harry ducked his head. Oh she had definitely heard the rumours then. She was going to hate him now, just like everybody else. She would look down on him and wouldn't believe a word he said and would take away the books now and he was never going to…

"Nice to meet you, Harry Potter," she said, making him snap his head up. It was his turn to widen his eyes in surprise. She was smiling, her brown eyes warm and not a hint of hatred or disdain that he had gotten used to seeing present in them. He extended a hand. "I'm Leta Grey."

Unable to believe this was happening, he slipped his smaller hand into hers, letting her shake it. She then smiled again, her brown eyes warm. "I'll see you later, okay?" See him later? No one wanted to see him later. "Now, run along, before you miss class."

He nodded and walked out of the library on autopilot. The rest of the day went by in a daze for him. It was only when he was safely huddled in his cupboard at night that it finally sunk in. 

She didn't hate him! She knew all the rumours and she knew his name and she didn't hate him! She didn't believe the rumours! She didn't look down on him!

He breathed out, disbelief and giddiness warring inside of him. Had he made a friend? Would she be his friend, even though he was younger? It didn't matter, he decided. All that mattered was that she didn't hate him and didn't look at him with disdain. That was a first for him. And that was enough.

Humming happily, he opened his bag and grabbed the first book. Pulling the mattress, he grabbed the old, half broken but still somehow functioning torch he had managed to save from being thrown away. Lighting it and shining it on the book, he opened the book to the first page and started to read.