AN: Just so you know I have never read the Harry Potter books but I have saw the movies... well at least half of them anyway. If you do not want to listen to me continuously sputter excuses for my story sucking then you can skip until the line somewhere beneath this paragraph. Just know that my feelings have been hurt. This may as well be my first fan fiction considering all my other stories are written in what people would call, 'kid language'. I have never written a french accent before and apologize beforehand if my attempt is so horrid that you would cry. Also if there are any writers that are looking for ideas for Fleur/Harry stories please have a look at forums (dot) dark lord potter (dot) net. The ideas listed there are very inspirational but sadly not many have taken the ideas and written them. Now that that's out of the way, onward! To the story!
Drip.
Blink.
Drip. Drip.
He moved under the light dribbling of the rain. He remembered, the pretty lady on the telly said that it would rain today. His uncle was there, listening. Maybe he remembered too. That's why his uncle threw him out today. It didn't happen often, only when he didn't finish his chores but he did. He really did, honest. Maybe his uncle was just angry today, he always have a certain look in his eyes when he look at him. After all Harry Potter was not dumb. No far from it. Observant actually, not that anyone on Little Whinging cared. Sometimes it was just better to play the oblivious child. He look down at the ground, trying to find a nice spot to sit. Yes, that's what he should do, sit and think.
And on the patch of grass his mind wandered. About this place, Little Whinging, no one wants him here. The look on his uncle's face when he's about to get a beating. His aunt's screeching voice waking him up. His cousin's fist connecting to his face. His teacher's disappointed stare. The neighbors' not so quiet gossip... Why did he stay? The question haunted his mind; of course this isn't the first time the thought made it's way through his head. It casually strolls through his head like a walk in the park. And sometimes it was a- What's the word for it? Para- para- para-something. Oh that's right, parasite, that's the word. But that didn't answer the question, why did he stay? Figuring that he would not get a response, he stood and left.
...
Left. Right. Left. Right.
A repeated pattern.
An unconscious pattern.
Each steps making a squeaking noise almost being drowned out by the sound of the rain. Almost. Even with his malnourished body, his footsteps are making noises. Maybe, just maybe if he can silence his footsteps than his uncle wouldn't notice him sneak in... or out. But how do one walk silently? He's seen, in cartoons, burglars tip toeing inside a house, only a glimpse of course. But he knew, he's tried. Not only does that not work, it's a waste of energy. So he tried something else, he adjusted the weight of his body to the balls of his feet. But it felt weird, he couldn't keep it up for long, and when he finally noticed; the squeaking sound was back. Therefore, he tried again, and again, and again. Now and then he slipped up and subconsciously reverted back to his normal walk. One that he picked up from Dudley. Needless to say, the walk made loud noises.
It's frustrating really. No matter how hard he tried, his footsteps always made some type of noises. But he was determined. He wouldn't have survived in Privet Drive if he wasn't. He was only 6, but that made it even harder! Maybe he should practice fighting instead of running.
Scrap... Squeak...
Messed up again! This was annoying! And contrary to what others thought of him, he was a fast learner. What was he doing wrong? People always told kids to think things through, so that what he did. Whereas Dudley's style of walking was contributed to using all his effort to not collapse under his whale of a body, so instead, Harry walked on the balls of his foot, rolled his foot and gracefully? No, not gracefully, gently perhaps but not gracefully. And thus he rolled his foot and gently laid it on the ground, minimizing the amount of sound made. If this didn't work than he would just try again. But it would be nice if he was able to do it on his first try. He was Harry Potter, he was impatient but that didn't mean he didn't get annoyed. Sometimes people just overestimate his patience. And thus, the movement was repeated with his other foot.
...
It worked!
If he wasn't so focused on walking silently maybe he would've noticed the graveyard he was walking into. And maybe... Just maybe... he would've noticed that walking silently, even quietly, with shoes a size to big... wasn't quiet possible.