Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.
All the lights in #4 privet drive had gone off for the night, except one. The light coming from the window of the smallest bedroom illuminated the smoke blown through the bars by the room's sole inhabitant, a scrawny, black-haired, teen with a lightning bolt scar above his left eyebrow. The boy's eyes, once bright green, were dull and haunted since arriving on privet drive. They spoke of battle, power, and paranoia, this summer. The light went out and the boy disappeared from privet drive with a crack.