AN: Hey, everyone, I just suddenly had this urge to write a one-shot and so here it is! I'm sorry if it is rubbish. Harry may be a little OOC, though I did try to keep him normal.
Disclaimer: I do not and never will own Harry Potter.
He hated her all along. Every single day since the moment they met. The very thought of her repulsed him to no end. Well, that was what he was telling himself anyway…
Sighing he rose up from his chair on the windowsill seat and crossed his bedroom. Putting away an odd diary of some sort, he stashed it away before anyone could see it. If somebody did in fact read the content of the book, he would be in for Hell for the rest of his young wizarding years at Hogwarts. Maybe even longer.
Someone thumped rather loudly on his door, the wood shaking from impact. "Get up, boy!" a gruff voice sounded through the door. The banging continued for a few seconds before stopping. Only after he could hear the massive footfalls of his Uncle, did he open the door.
Peeking out through the tiny crack he had made, the fourteen-year-old boy scanned down each side of the doorway. Seeing no evidence of danger, he crept out of his small sanctuary and along the corridor. Coming to a halt halfway down the staircase, he looked over the banister.
No one could be seen from this angle but he remotely heard the blaring of their television set. From what he could tell, it was on the Weather Channel. Creeping down the remaining steps, he crouched down and slide along the wall that separated the hall and living room.
Glancing around the wall, he could see a large bulking figure sitting on a recliner, reading the newspaper. He let out a breath and stood up. He didn't know why he was on edge but recently he had been getting these strange feelings that danger was near. He wasn't sure whether it be magical or Muggle but he took every precaution.
Scuffling into the kitchen as quietly as possible, he began to prepare breakfast. Taking out all of the right ingredients, he placed them onto the counter. Cooking was never a problem for his as he had been doing it for as long as he can remember. Though it was easy, he took no interest in it.
Cooking was simply a fact of life to him and so he never took notice in what he was doing. It came naturally so this didn't matter. He could be reading a book yet the omelettes he was making would never turn out burnt. He was never worshipped for his excellent cooking skills though he never expected him to be. Not by them, never.
"Harry, pay attention!" an awful high voice nagged at him.
"Sorry, Aunt Petunia," apologised Harry, though he didn't really mean it.
Petunia Dursley looked down her long pointed nose at her nephew. As a little girl she had always despised her sister. In the eyes of her parents, Lily was always the most talented and their personal favourite. These words were never spoken, but to Petunia they were as obvious as the sky being blue.
After her sister's death, the hatred was just fed more by being given the burden of the little brat in front of her. In not only her opinion but also in her husband Vernon's, Harry was a waste of oxygen and should be treated like one. He did not deserve special treatment from the mere fact that he had lived from a near-death experience.
In private, though Petunia swore to her grave that she didn't believe in magic or anything in that category, she rooted for the Dark Lord. Not only had he had the sense to kill that worthless wrench of a sister and her husband but he had also tried to kill young Harry. Though he failed, he was still trying so he had her upmost respect.
"Yes, well, boy, listen next time," she snapped. "Go get dressed, we will be having some visitors over soon and that breakfast better be ready and made they're here," she warned, glaring at him with her beady eyes.
He nodded and she sneered in content before joining Vernon in front of the television. Harry sighed and put down the ingredients he held. It was a good thing he hadn't cooked anything yet otherwise it either would have been burnt or he wouldn't of had enough time to get changed and eat before these co-called visitors arrived.
He quickly ran upstairs and shot inside his room. Rummaged through his bare wardrobe he pulled out a plain blue v-neck sweater and tatted blue jeans. Slipping on his clothing he put on some fresh socks and his black low-top converse trainers. He couldn't find his brush, so he used his fingers to comb through his messy black hair.
Jogging back down the stairs, he found that his cousin, Dudley was changed and sitting on one of the kitchen stools, vacantly looking at the television screen. Walking back to the counter, he began to get on with breakfast. Whilst working, he could feel the stare of Dudley, boring into his head as he cooked.
Paying his cousin no heed, Harry finished the meal and set it out on the dining table along with the silver cutlery. Calling out to his Muggle family, he sat himself down in his chair. His aunt and uncle placed themselves in their seats, while Dudley remained a statue on his stool. Petunia looked up, worried at her son.
"Dudders, aren't you going to have something to eat?" she spoke softly to him, unlike Harry.
Dudley snapped out of his daydream and plonked himself down in his chair, chomping down on his food. Petunia smiled; satisfied that he was eating -though he could really use to lose some weight. Harry ate politely in a slow manner, whereas the others chewed forcefully and downed all of their breakfast quickly.
"So, Dudley, my boy, what had you so preoccupied before?" boomed Vernon once he had finished his breakfast.
Dudley looked uncomfortable for a second before having a dazed look cross his face. "I was just thinking about someone," he replied.
Petunia and Vernon exchanged a look, while Harry felt sorry for whoever this girl was. Seeing that everyone had finished, he rushed to clear up their plates. Placing them in the sink, he opted to clean them later. Looking back at the rest, he saw that Dudley was drooling a little while his aunt and uncle were beaming.
"Oh really, so who is this special someone?" Vernon slyly asked.
Dudley was about to answer when the doorbell rang. Petunia stood up and motioned for Vernon to do the same. "That would be our guests," she explained. She looked over to Harry and narrowed her eyes at him. "You shall go upstairs once we have introduced you, and you will stay up there for the rest of their visit. Understood?"
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry answered automatically. He was slightly confused though as to why he was being introduced. Normally he was told to hide so no one would know he were there. His aunt and uncle had always been ashamed to mention him or even acknowledge him in public around their friends.
Petunia went to answer the door, while the boys all stood around uncomfortably. Petunia could be heard greeting someone. Female from what could be heard of their small conversation. Vernon bent down and whispered a command harshly in Harry's ear, "No funny business, boy, or you won't live to see the end of tomorrow."
Harry made no move to reply as footsteps could be heard coming down the small hallway. Petunia came around the wall, a fake smile plastered on her face. Accompanying her was a small woman with long mahogany hair that went to her waist. She had deep black eyes, which were scanning around the room.
Her features were pretty and youthful though her age was mostly likely around the same area as Petunia's. She wore a massive grin as her eyes grazed over Harry yet she frowned when she took sight of Dudley. Harry furrowed his brow as he contemplated what that meant.
Before he could dwell on the matter too long, a small movement caught his eye. Standing behind the woman, was a tall girl with brown hair that reached just under her shoulders with blonde highlights. He couldn't see her face properly from the position he was in, but from what he could see, he out her down as beautiful.
As the woman moved to the side a little, the girl stepped forward so she was standing right beside her mother. With a jolt of shock, Harry recognised her. Standing before him was the girl he hated with a passion and, by the look on Dudley's face, his cousin's current infatuation: Miss Lydia Dearborn.
Though Harry didn't understand fashion, she was in fact wearing grey skinny jeans that clung to her legs and a paint splattered shirt that showed off her neck and arms, along with a bright yellow bag and low-top pink trainers. To any normal guy she was a walking model.
Frozen with surprise, he could only stand there as her lovely ice blue eyes moved to his. Her expression changed, before she had only a small polite smile on her face, whereas now her smile widened, exposing her perfect teeth and her eyes seemed to twinkle. It somewhat reminded Harry of Dumbledore, but not quite.
"Susan, I would like you to meet my husband, Vernon. Sweetie, this is Susan Dearborn and her daughter Lydia," Petunia indicated to the people she spoke about. Susan smiled and shook Vernon's hand. Petunia waved a hand towards Dudley, who was staring at Lydia. "This is my little Dudders, who should be in Lydia's class."
Harry tried to stifle his laugh when Dudley snapped back to reality with his mouth open and eyes wide when Petunia called him 'Dudders'. Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he saw Lydia do the same and turned to look at her. She returned his stare and smiled at him once again.
"Lastly, this is my nephew Harry. My sister and her husband died when he was a baby, so we took him in," Petunia finished, with a fake sniffle as if she actually cared.
By the look on Susan's face, Harry could tell that she didn't believe that Petunia was upset in the slightest. She then turned her gaze on him, with sorrow in her eyes. Normally Harry hated when someone made a big deal out of his parent's death, but the concern in this woman's eyes was enough for him to be grateful to her.
"Well, how about we all sit down and have a drink of tea?" asked Vernon. Susan looked at him and nodded, with a small smile on her face. Harry went over to the kettle and got everything ready as he knew that he would be the one to serve them tea.
While everyone was busy sitting down and getting comfortable, Vernon walked over to Harry and spoke to him in a quiet tone, "Just make the tea and get upstairs. Remember, no noises, no magic, no nothing." His hard voice did not scare Harry one bit but he nodded still. "Good," he spat and went to sit next to Petunia. Harry glanced round and saw Lydia staring at him.
She looked kind of sad and he couldn't figure out why. She saw him looking at her and smiled, the sadness disappearing from her angelic face. Harry just turned back and finished making the tea. Paying no attention to her prying eyes, he set the silver tray down onto the coffee table and made his way, quietly out of the room.
He was deep in thought as he ascended the stairs. He didn't actually know why he hated her so much. She had never honestly done anything to him but still he disliked her. She had never spoken directly to him whenever they had both been in the same place. He had tried to avoid her as much as possible but he tried in vain.
Wherever he went, she seemed to be there. She always watched him when no one was looking and it made him feel uneasy. He never made an effort to communicate with her and she did the same. She was always crowed by her snobby friends, never alone. If they were to bump into each other she would ignore him completely.
Opening the door to his room, he sat down on his hard mattress. Being preoccupied with his thoughts, he failed to notice that he had left the door ajar slightly. He rubbed his face, setting his elbows on his knees. Keeping his hands covered over his face, he just sat there for a long time.
His mind was going over everything that had happened to him. From his parent's death to leaving his friends at the train station last year. He hadn't seen or heard from either Ron or Hermione all this summer and it was beginning to agitate him. The least they could was write a small letter, but no. Not one piece of mail had been delivered.
Harry's birthday was looming and soon he would be fifteen. Not too long after that would he be returning to Hogwarts. When he got there he was definitely going to interrogate his two best friends on their lack of communication. To be honest, Ron could never be bothered to owl him but Hermione always sent him letters
During his mind-mumbling, someone slipped in through the door to his bedroom. They looked over to Harry and when they landed on him, a smile came across their face. Closing the door, softly behind them – as not to warn Harry of their presence – they tiptoed over to him. He had not noticed them yet as he wasn't listening.
They bent over so that their mouth was to his ear. Harry now felt their hot breath and froze on the spot. Not daring to open his eyes, he couldn't tell how the intruder was. "Now, now Harry. Not running away are we? That's a shame because I wanted to have a little chat with you," they whispered seductively into his ear.
Hearing that voice, Harry stiffened even more but dropped his hands from his face. Looking up at them, he just sat there staring into the smiling face of Lydia. He remained in his seat, not moving an inch. He wasn't sure what would happen next so he didn't say anything.
Lydia smirked, not in an evil way but more excited. She got to his eye level and looked straight into the bright green orbs. Speaking in a murmur, "Now, we're going to have some fun, Harry." His eye brows crunched up with his puzzlement. Lydia smiled and leaned towards him.
Placing one leg on either side of both his legs, she sat down on his knees. She was so close, Harry could feel her sweet breath on his face. Lydia hooked her arms loosely around his neck, resting them on his shoulders. She locked her hands together so that he couldn't escape.
Then slowly, while keeping eye contact, she leaned forward until her lips were an inch away from his. When she spoke, they brushed together gently, "I know you feel the same, so how about we experiment?" Lydia didn't give him a chance to answer as she pressed her mouth to his.
Harry felt a shock run through his body, causing his brain to momentarily stop. Then without telling himself to, he responded to her kiss. He wasn't thinking properly, letting his true actions shine through. He was kissing her back with as much passion as he could. Harry's arms slid around her waist, keeping them glued together.
Lydia didn't seem to mind at all and instead went a little further. She brushed her tongue across his lower lip, silently asking for entrance. He granted her wish without thinking, yet again, and their tongues were soon rooming the other's mouth. They were both caught up in the moment, the outside world slipping out of their minds.
As their kiss deepened, Lydia brought her legs up to Harry's sides. They snaked around his waist, pushing his back further forward so their bodies were stuck together. Hooking her feet so that her ankles were crossed, Lydia clung to him as if her life depended on it. Harry was doing the same, reason gone out of his head.
One of his hands made its way from her waist to twist around in her hair instead. It felt like silk in his hand and he scrunched it into his fist, securing her head. Then, having the need for more, he disconnected his mouth from hers. Though, Harry made sure that his lips were on her at all times.
Running down her face, he kissed along her jaw making his way down her throat. Both of Lydia's hands were now in his hair, having left his heck. Sucking and nipping on her skin, Harry continued along her collarbone where it showed from her top being low-cut. Lydia let out a quiet moan when he licked the skin and she felt him smile.
Oh yes, he hated her all along. Every single day since the moment they met. The very thought of her repulsed him to no end. Well, that was what he was telling himself before but now, having her in his reach, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He wanted her to be his sweetheart – though right now it was partly lust.
He knew not to go too far, being the age they both were, but that didn't stop his need. He knew that if he closed his eyes she would be there, smiling at him. Hearing the pleasure he was giving her made Harry smile in content against her skin. It felt like they were made for one another, though up until this point he had loathed her.
Lydia started to kiss the side of his face as she couldn't get to anything else. She knew deep down that their relationship would never develop and that pained her so much she thought she would scream. She wanted Harry in her life, to hold her and kiss her but she knew that it wouldn't happen.
The sound of Susan calling up the stairs for Lydia so they could leave made them both freeze in what they were doing. Slowly they parted from one another so that they were looking into the other's eyes. Harry was silently pleading with her to stay but he and she both knew that this momentary fairy tale had to end.
"I have to go," Lydia said quietly. Harry only moved his head up and down a little in sign of a nod. Lydia smiled at him sadly and kissed him on the lips once more. Instead of being passionate it was sweet and gentle. They each knew it was their last kiss and so they treasured each and every second.
Lydia was the one to break the kiss as she got off of Harry and stood up. He rose too and looked at her. Before he let her go anywhere he grabbed her hand gently. "How did this happen?" he croaked out. She sighed and shook her head.
"I suppose opposites really do attract," she said in a broken voice. She took back her hand and glanced at his face once more. She then made her way to the door, walking out of the room. Before closing the door, she faced him from the doorway and mouthed 'Bye' and then softly shut the door. Harry sighed in heartache.
"Goodbye," he murmured quietly to his small room.
AN: Well what do you think? I am not planning on doing a sequel as this was only a one-shot. Let me know your thoughts and opinions in reviews, I would love to hear from you. Just click that special button and type…
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