Rain splattered the window of number eight Privet drive; it had just been sold to a couple and their lovely niece. Andrew and Marty Merci had just move to Surrey from Clairton, Louisiana. Andrew had grown up in England but moved shortly after graduating to escape the pressures of his very old fashioned family, where he had met Marty and they had fallen desperately in love living happily together, though thoughts of children often popped into their heads. Marty's niece had been the answer to those wishes, she had come to them when she was eleven years old and they had been one, small but deliriously happy family. Their niece and Marty got on very well. He and their Kesi Bear where practically inseparable, they liked the same type of movies and the same type of books, the same sense of humor. Andrew almost always came home to find them on the couch tell the characters exactly what to do, especially if they were watching Rambo. It was a favorite pass time of there's and it seamed every viewing made it more hilarious, with more things to correct; though Kesi insisted that Stallone looked very good in his new flick, Expendables. Andrew would shake his head, grab his book and stretch out while they laughed themselves into fits. The move here had caused a lot of tension between them. Andrew had to come back, He wasn't sure how to explain it to Kesi, it had been hard enough to tell Marty and that had been whispered in his ear late in the night when just the two of them. Kesi had been angry, friends had been hard enough to come by, and she would have to leave them all, to start a new school that rarely had transfer students. She of course hadn't truly been upset till she learned that Marty would no longer be working from home so the summer would be spent in a foreign country where they didn't even have the decency to drive on the right side of the road, with not even her very best friend to hang around.
Now the sole occupant of number eight was staring out her bedroom window watching the rain, and watching the street, usually the rain made her giddy, curl up in a chair or your bed and stay in our jammies all day. Today however it was a warden keeping her imprisoned in this house with nothing to distract her. The boxes with her books in them hadn't made it across the Atlantic yet and the television shows where slightly off, the ones that weren't where in the middle of the summer season and made no sense, and the music hadn't been anything like she was used to. Turning from her window she started opening boxes, and putting things away. Across the street someone else was cursing the rain; he had been staring out his own window, watching the shadowy form of the new neighbor. He could see her passing back and fourth between the windows settling in.
Kes opened boxes finding that her packing skills where not so amazing. There were blue jeans in with silk pajamas and a dress she hadn't worn to the winter formal; in another box she found old school books in with face cream and her favorite perfume. She went through four other boxes before she found what she had been looking for. Her i-home, it found a place of honor on the built in bookshelves where its sound could resound through the room. Deciding that mournful music she preferred on rainy days would just make her mood more gloomy she settled on the classics. Motley Crue, Queen, Beatles, Rolling Stones. It wasn't long before the knob was turned up and the music pushing her into a dance all thoughts of organizing her room forgotten. The boy across the street smiled when he saw her dancing, it seamed so pleasant and she, she most be one of the happiest people, to dance with such abandon.
Harry Potter was desperate, Dudley was playing a game on his computer and the sounds of people screaming, even if it was computer generated, where racking on his conscious. He knew he supposed in his head that Cedric's death wasn't his fault, but he couldn't figure out how to tell the rest of him that felt guilt, that dreamed about every night, and could hardly close his eyes with out that green light flashing. He wanted to run, pound out these feelings. He could work himself hard enough then he could sleep, in blessed quiet. He slipped out the door his wand tucked in the back of his pants. Stepping over the squeaking chair and past the kitchen door when his Aunt was taking out a pie. The wind brushed through his hair, and it smelled clean. He started out with jog but soon his feat slapped against the side walk in a steady rhythm. There was no destination, just the rush of adrenaline, and that lovely clean smell. It wasn't long before he found himself running through the park at the end of Little Winging, he went all the way through the park and father before he turned around to run back. Once in the park a second time he stopped running and stretching out in the grass. He stared up at the clouds, relaxing in the warmth of the sun. Two fingers jabbed into his shoulder, and he turned pointing his wand into the face of a wide eyed girl. "Take it easy darlin; I was just makin sure ya weren't passed out, or somethin. Why don't you point your wand down?" She had eased back. Guilt immediately flooded him.
"Sorry, um I. Did you say wand?" He looked her up and down. She had coppery hair and pale skin, wearing a blue dress that pooled around her knees where she had knelt down next to him. Her head bobbed in the affirmative.
"If you don't tell, I won't." Her smile was broad lighting up her face. "I'm Kestral, by the way, Kestral Merci." The hand she held out was small and soft, and it took a moment for him to let it go.
"Harry Potter." Finally smiling himself "You're a Yankee?" He asked wondering at the slightly slurred drawn out speech.
"No, I am most certainly not. I am a genuine, certified, southern belle, with out an ounce of Yankee blood in me thank you very much, and don't you forget it Mr. Potter." She had tossed her head to the side laughing. Harry nodded, not sure what the difference was, she had basically just said she was from the US. Perhaps if he was someone else he'd have thought she was off but she was smiling at him, and she seamed to know what a wand was so that meant she must know about the magical world, and that meant he could talk to her. "You live around her then Harry?"
"Yeah, number four Privet drive." He tried not to hiss it out. He really wanted to be at head quarters with everyone else. He looked back at her and the way he tossed her head. She was the girl from number eight, the girl he had watched all day yesterday. "You live in number eight don't you?"
"Mhmm, we just got her, my uncles and me. It's a lot different from Louisiana, but Andrew's from here and he seams to think it's important for him to come back. I don't mean to be a busy body, and if I'm pryin just tell me to shut up, but you wouldn't happen to go to Hogwarts would you? See I'm supposed to go there this fall and it sounds way different from my school in America, and Uncle Andrew says it should be a surprise, but I really hate surprises. Do you think you could tell me about it?" Harry had fallowed everything she said, years of Hermione's rants on the impotents of potions ingredients or the specific movement of the wand for a spell, had trained him for that.
"Sure," Perhaps it would have been prudent to run away, she could be a Death Eater but if she was she would have tried something by now, and besides it would distract him. "It's actually really cool, most of the time. There's four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Huffelpuff, and Slytherin. I'm in Gryffindor, you'll get sorted into one when you get there." It wasn't hard to get lost in telling her about Hogwarts, it was after all his home, and she seamed to be as caught up in listening as he was in telling. The sun traveled unnoticed across the sky, and it wasn't until Harry's stomach rumbled that they realized either of them noticed anything. "I should be going," he said. He didn't really want, this was the most relaxed he'd been weeks, but she would be hungry to.
"Oh, I suppose your families got lunch. Well we could get together tomorrow maybe?" She had stood up, brushing the back of her skirt, from stray grass that clung to her.
"Definitely," It wasn't like him to be so open with a stranger. "Tenish good for you." Kestral nodded. They walked back down the street together Harry pointing to some houses on the street, mostly the ones that sheltered a member of Dudley's gang. "Tomorrow Kestral." Harry waved and they both disappeared in their houses. Kestral to make a sandwich, Harry to climb up to his room and wait for supper, thinking about her.
Harry watched for her to pass in front of the windows in her house. She ran up and down the stairs most of the day carrying boxes, and occasionally he glimpsed her dancing. Kestral never noticed that she was being watched; instead she was happy to have made a sort of friend. She let the music set the pace and by the time her uncles arrived home her room was mostly unpacked. Happily she told them all about the boy next door Harry who, was a wizard by the way, and went to Hogwarts, and had kindly told her all about it, and thank you very much there wasn't a giant shark tank you had to swim through, just a hat. Her arm swung out flicking several pieces of lettuce off the tongs, emphasizing her disapprobation for her Uncle Andrew. They sat around the table, a tradition never missed if they could help it. Her Uncles smiling quietly at her while she rambled on about all the things Harry had told her and that they where going to meet tomorrow and maybe they could meet him on Friday.
At exactly ten the next mourning both teenagers where out of their houses, Kestral smiling broadly and waving to Harry. She was in green today, and this dress also floated around her. "Mourning Kestral."
"Mourning Harry, so do we want to go to the park again, or maybe we could walk down to Blake Square, there's supposed to be a bookstore there."
"Blake square sounds fine to me." It was quiet at first, neither knowing how to start the conversation again. It was however Harry's turn to be brave, "So uh what do your Uncles do?"
"Uncle Andrew, he works at O'Neil's Cauldron's, he manages international shipping, he asked for a transfer so we could move here. Uncle Marty used to work as a free lance writer, but he just took a position at a magazine called the Quibbler. It's a bit wacky but so is Uncle Marty. I always thought Uncle Andrew should open his own potion supply store, he loves them; then I could help out behind the counter or stock the shelves or something, and Uncle Marty could have an office upstairs." She did a little shrug of her shoulders and toss of her head. "I of course would take over, maybe, I might want to be a healer, I tend to change my mind a lot. What do you want to do?" She was sort of skipping beside him.
"I don't know, I've thought about being an Auror, but I haven't ruled out anything. I have a friend that wants to change elf enslavement laws; maybe I'll help out with that." He hadn't actually thought about it, but he certainly had enough money to do it. She nodded tilting her head.
"We have laws protecting their rights in America, they still serve families, but the have to have their own place to live and they can leave if their treatment is unfair. I think it's really great that the two of you want to change the law here. Maybe I could help, if it's not too intrusive?" She was walking now, taking in the stores they passed.
"I think Hermione would love to have you help, I bet the two of you would get along really well." He was smiling at her; she seamed to exude happiness from her being.
"Do you think so; I don't usually make friends very well." Still smiling looking at the yarn in a store window.
"Neither do I, but we did well enough together didn't we?" The both smiled at that, and she asked if he could forgive her if they went into the knitting store. Harry of course didn't mind, it was nice to watch someone delight in the smallest things. After that they went to the bookstore where Harry was quizzed on his favorite authors, when it was discovered that he had none and rarely read anything that didn't pertain to school work, Kestral insisted that he read some of her favorites, everyone should at the very least try reading. She was very happy to see him nod accepting the book she put in his hands. They ate hotdog on the bench in the middle of the square, and walked slowly back to their homes, Harry stashed the books under his floor board, and went for a run. Kestral placed her new purchases on the shelves in her room, and started dinner for her and her Uncles happily reliving the day in her head.
Harry and Kestral spent almost every day together, happily discussing mundane ordinary things. Harry learned that he liked muggle fiction especially Steve Berry and James Rollins. Kestral quickly insisted that Harry eat lunch at her house, after all she was a southerner and Harry was much to skinny for liking. They would also do garden work together, she had a particular fondness for Begonias.
Hello, any one who has happened across my story, I love reviews, they make my day, Like they make every ones day. Leave one, let me know what you think, how I could improve, but no flames cause thats just mean.