Emerald Flame

Chapter 1

Harry Potter was a small boy for his age being inches shorter then his other classmates. He was also a very beautiful child. He had black hair that was messy, but when it reached his shoulders it hung nicely, spiking at the bottom slightly as if trying to fight gravity and half winning. He also had a lithe build with a 'delicate' face, high cheek bones, and pale skin. He also had large stunning emerald eyes that seemed to be precious stones that 'popped' against his complexion. He was someone you would notice, but at the same time, if he didn't want to be seen he would be able to slip into the shadows.

He was also a silent child. He was very quiet spoken, but if he did speak his voice could ensnare you. He was silent when he walked too, but his movements were full of natural grace. He was also built for speed as well as grace. He could move like a shadow across even an open field. He could run fast and as surefooted as a deer. His body was also made for fluid movement, like dodging the worst of hits and kick.

Harry was also intelligent. If you looking into his stunning orbs you could see the brilliance and cunning shinning behind the never ending green. You would also note his intelligence just by watching him. Harry never seemed bored of anything as he would just sit by and observe the world when there was nothing for him to do. Some would take it as lazy until they saw a deep peace and understanding as he observed the world around him. When Harry read the few books he could he always seemed to have a deep understanding of them. Knowing every hidden message and almost knowing what the author felt as they wrote the book also showed his observation skills. Today though was Harry Potter's first day of grade one, he was seven.

.-.

Harry sat on one of the many small chairs regally. His back was straight, though he didn't hold himself arrogantly, just politely, calmly. He looked like the example of the perfect silent child sitting in the room filled with children who were crying for their parents, making noise, yelling, or running around. He seemed like an angel to the teacher who was already sighing in exhaustion five minutes after class had started. When she finally had all the kids settled well enough she started to introduce herself and talk cheerfully with them. After an hour of playing small games and some writing practice the teacher, Mrs. Engle, got the children to sit in front of easels and at the tables.

"Now children we're going to have an art period. Today you'll be either painting or coloring."

There were some cheers and giggles as she set all the stuff in reach of the children. She moved to keep an eye on the ones who were painting to make sure they didn't swallow the stuff or slosh it around. She half heartedly watched as she sat in a chair and gazed around the room keeping her eyes more on the rowdy student. Her eyes though, slowly drifted to the child at the back of the room in the art section. Harry Potter. He was probably the quietest and politest first grader she had ever taught. He almost seemed too quiet for his age. She frowned. Maybe he wasn't feeling well? She stood and headed over to him.

It took her five minutes to reach him as kids called her over to help of look at their pictures. She gave them praise about their finger paintings before finally reaching Harry. He sat with the easel back to her seeming focused on the picture. He had turned it so no one could see. She saw he wanted privacy. Many kids liked to keep their pictures secret till they finished for some reason. Instead she smiled over the easel at the child. He looked up at her. His head tilted slightly in question making the left side of his bangs slid over his face slightly. Mrs. Engle thought it made him look utterly cute.

"Are you feeling okay Harry?" she asked.

He gave a small nod as if confused as to why she had asked.