A small boy with broken glasses and messy hair poked his head around the corner of the classroom door to see a flurry of activity and let out a sigh of relief.

He slipped quietly through the door, skirting the edges of the room virtually unnoticed by the other children, who were busy talking excitedly to each other about their various weekends, and the teacher, who was also busy talking to a girl with plaits in her hair.

He was nearly to his seat, when a ringing sound filled the room, and the noise died down. He froze, caught, hanging his head in defeat as the teacher told everyone to take their seats and sent him a very stern look.

"Good morning, children!" The teacher sang and a chorus of "Good morning, miss!" followed.

"Good morning, Harry," she said pointedly, raising her left eyebrow, something she only did when a child was misbehaving and Harry instantly knew what was coming next.

"Would you like to share with the class why you are late, again?"

He blushed, shaking his head. He'd rather willingly eat one of Aunt Petunia's disgusting sandwiches that she usually packed for his lunch than try to explain that the reason he was late was because Dudley had pushed him into one of the large (luckily empty, but still foul –smelling) garbage bins outside school, and he hadn't been able to lift the heavy lid to get himself out.

"No miss," he muttered looking at the floor where he could still see small particles of glitter from when Dudley had 'accidentally' spilt an entire tube onto the floor last week in art time and blamed on Harry.

"Then would you please sit down, dear?" The teacher said in a sickly sweet voice that made Harry want to throw his school bag at her.

"Yes miss," he muttered, still looking at the glitter as he hurried towards his chair, sitting down and pulling out his books and pencils in record time, pretending not to hear when Dudley muttered, "Potter stinks, doesn't he?"

He was used to Dudley's remarks, but it didn't stop him gripping his pencil much harder than was necessary.

"Now today, children, we have a new student in our class," the teacher was saying, and Harry looked up to see her holding the shoulders of the girl she had been talking to earlier. "Her name is Billy-Lee, and her family have just moved here from-"

"Why does she have a boys name if she's a girl?" Dudley said in something Harry supposed was a whisper, but as everything about Dudley was big, it was loud enough so that everyone in the class heard.

The new girl blushed, hanging her head in much the same way Harry had done earlier.

The teacher raised her eyebrow, higher this time. It was well known that the higher her eyebrow went, the angrier she was. Apparently there was a bet among the older kids to see who could get it the highest.

"That was very rude, Dudley," she said very sternly, as though talking to a toddler.

Harry smirked. It was always better when it was Dudley being told off rather than him.

"But I just wanted to know why she had a boy's name, miss," Dudley said very loudly and glaring at Harry.

"Because, some names can be used as both boy and girl names," the teacher said, the eyebrows hitching up a notch on her forehead, which meant that she was nearing boiling point. "As I was saying, Billy's family has only just moved here from London, so I want each of you to make her feel welcome."

Many people nodded, smiling and waving at Billy. Harry gave her a small smile, but was more distracted by Dudley, who had just leaned back in his chair and was bending the plastic with his bulk so that it creaked under him. Harry wished it would snap and Dudley would go crashing to the floor.

"Dudley Dursley, how many time have I told you to sit straight in your chair!" The teacher snapped, before turning back to the new girl.

"Now, Billy, dear, there is a seat over there next to Harry…" Harry looked around at the sound of his name to see the teacher pointing at the seat to his right, which was always empty because no one wanted to sit next to him, "…and would you please get out your books so that we can start the lesson."

The new girl did what she was told, wandering over and pulling out her pencil case and a notebook covered with stickers from her bag and sat perfectly straight in her chair. The teacher waited until she was ready, before calling the roll, then telling the class to open their books and copy what she was writing on the blackboard.

He had just picked up his pencil when something happened that had never happened to Harry before. Billy the new girl turned and absolutely beamed at him, her eyes twinkling. "Hello!" She whispered in a very different whisper to Dudley's and held out her hand. "I'm Billy, Billy-Lee Irlam."

He stared at her, not quite believing his ears. No one had ever talked to him like that before.

"Why are you looking so worried, I'm only saying hello!"

Harry suddenly decided that he liked Billy-Lee Irlam very much.

He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut short when the teacher called for quiet and Harry, not wanting to get into any more trouble, quickly opened his own, plain, notebook and started straight away on his work. Billy-Lee grinned at him, and started her own at a much slower pace.

He waited until the teacher was busy telling off Dudley and his friends for not starting yet, before he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Hi. I'm Harry, Harry Potter," and held his hand across the gap between the two desks to shake hers.

Then something very odd happened. Billy's mouth dropped open slightly, and her eyes grew wide in surprise and amazement, although Harry didn't have the faintest idea why. But the strangest thing was her eyes, which slid to his forehead as though expecting to see something there. This was very odd indeed, as the only thing on his forehead was an old scar which he had gotten when his parents had died in a car crash.

Then suddenly Billy shook her head, as if getting rid of a very annoying fly, and her smile came back, wider than before.

"It's really good to meet you, Harry!"

When she smiled, Harry could see every one of her strangely straight teeth. It was a nice smile.

In fact, everything about her was nice; she had extremely dark brown hair, almost black like his own, which was pulled back into two plaits on either side of her head and reached her shoulders, stray bits of too-short hair poked out here and there. Her eyes were nice as well, a kind of blue that reminded him of the sea, and her nose looked like a small, slightly squashed tomato. He liked tomatoes.

She looked at him at the same time, though Harry doubted she found anything nice about his messy hair, broken glasses and green eyes. Even his nose wasn't that nice.

"I like your hair," he whispered earnestly.

"Harry, Billy, are you working?" The teacher suddenly called, and Harry jumped, Billy doing the same, and they quickly turned back to their work.

"Yes, miss," they said in unison. Billy grinned at him.