Notes: Although there is an OFC in this story, the books are named after Harry Potter for a reason.

It was nearly 6 a.m. when Harry woke up, feeling extremely anxious. He was used to it, though. Every night after the death of Dumbledore was the same: difficulty to conceal sleep, nightmares and a general feeling of anxiety and sadness. Harry started to dread going to bed and the lack of sleep was beginning to affect his overall performance during the day. Even the easiest spells demanded a lot of energy from him

It had been a month or so since Dumbledore had died, killed, actually, by no other than Severus Snape, the man that Harry hated the most. He and Voldemort were the only reason he was still able to get up in the morning. He had to find the horcruxes, he had to kill Snape and make him pay for betraying Dumbledore's trust.

On top of that, he still missed Sirius really much, though he didn't show it. Partly because he didn't want to worry his friends, but mostly because, in his mind, that would make him look weak and he didn't want that. He was supposed to be 'the chosen one', the one destined to defeat Voldemort. People needed to believe something, to have a hope.

Slowly, Harry grabbed a pair of jeans and started dressing up. Following Dumbledore's instructions, he was spending a couple of days with his only alive relatives, the Dursleys. He wasn't enjoying it much, that's for sure. Before going, he had told Ron and Hermione not to write them while he was there (after all, he was going to stay there only for a few days). His only remaining relatives were behaving almost the same; the only difference was now Dudley was scared of him. His birthday would be tomorrow, which meant he would be an adult and therefore able to perform magic.

Completely awake now, Harry decided it would be a good time for a morning stroll. He wasn't an early riser, but he couldn't bear to stay in his room, or in the house, for that matter, any longer.

Carefully, trying not to make any sound (understandable, he wasn't really in the mood for listening to uncle Vernon's complaints), Harry closed the door and got out his uncles' house. It amazed him how that part of the muggle world still seemed to remain unharmed. All the houses had the perfect façade, the perfect lawn and even some had the perfect pets. When he was younger, Harry was afraid he'd enter to another house by accident… they all looked the same.

The sky was clear and the sun rising. It was indeed a beautiful morning. Wandering without a specific destination, Harry was lost in his thoughts on revenge, plotting different ways to kill Snape, each one more painful than the one before. He was so concentrated he barely noticed he had bumped into a girl.

"Oh, I'm sorry" Harry said, embarrassed, helping the girl to get up from the floor.

"Don't worry, it's okay. No broken bones or anything" The girl smiled at him "My name is Charlotte Brown"

"Mine is Harry Potter" Harry said, answering the silent question. He felt it was safe to say his name to a muggle girl. After all, muggle girls didn't know who he was.

"Oh, so you are Harry Potter! I should have known, but I think your hair is covering your scar."

"Wha-what? How do you know who I am?" Harry asked her, puzzled.

"Don't be silly, everyone in our world knows who you are!" The girl answered, grinning at the astounded expression on Harry's face.

"Are you a witch? How come I haven't seen you at Hogwarts?"

"Well, I would have thought you know by now Hogwarts isn't the only magical school in the world, is it? In case you didn't realize, I'm not from England"

"Oh! No, I didn't note it, but now that you mention it, you do have a weird accent, where are you from?" Harry was still so flabbergasted he had met a witch in the middle of the street that at first he barely noted the slight Spanish accent of the girl he had just met.

"You do know how to have your way with girls, don't you? I'm from Peru, in case you care" Said the Charlotte, slightly offended by Harry's mention to her accent.

"Peru? Where on earth is that?"

"It seems like when they say British people didn't know much about geography they were right. Peru is a medium sized country, located in Latin America. I went there to "Circe, Colegio de magia y brujería". I don't go there anymore, though"

"Did you leave school? And why are you here now? Are you visiting someone?" Harry couldn't help but ask, he was getting more curious every minute that passed.

"That's hardly any of your business, Harry Potter. Anyway, I think we've talked enough; it's time for me to go back to my aunt's house. Goodbye"

"Wait! It wasn't my intention to be nosey, it's just I've never seen a witch in this area before"

"So you're telling me you've never met anyone from our world here? Never?" Said Charlotte, dangerously lowering her voice.

"Well, I know Mrs. Figg, but she is a squib, not a witch… oh, no" As he say the girl's facial expression hardening, a wave of realization hit Harry, as he understood Charlotte probably was a relative of Mrs. Figg.

"Indeed, Arabella is my aunt. Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Harry. I have to go now. Good bye. I guess I will see you around." Charlotte said with a faint note of anger in her voice. Because of her accent, Harry did not realize that, though.

"Well, I guess I will see you other time, then"

As he saw Charlotte walking hurriedly towards her house, Harry decided he wanted to know more. He didn't particularly like the girl, but he was intrigued. Mrs. Figg never brought any of her relatives to her house before that he had known of. Without thinking much about it, Harry begun to walk in the direction of Mrs. Figg's house.

End of chapter one.