The boy pushed the wayward lock from his face. His attention did not waver as he carefully tucked it back behind his ear. He'd attached his hair that morning before coming outside to read, of course, but the messy strands always somehow managed to free themselves from their leather jailer. His eyes scanned the words, absorbing the information as he carelessly waved his hand in the required motion. "Come in for lunch!" his mother yelled from the doorway of the small house, waving. He sighed and closed the heavy tome, lovingly trapping a prematurely fallen perfectly formed leaf between the pages. Standing up, he brushed the dirt and twigs from his jeans, the wind sweeping over his face and bathing his body in its cool embrace. He shivered and again cursed his short memory and lack of foresight, hastily rubbing his bare arms. He reluctantly trotted to the short two-story house with the smooth white walls and green shutters. Home. He brushed a lingering touch on the rough dark wood of the door and entered.
"Wash your hands," his fiery-haired mother instructed. He obeyed. "Ellie! Come help set the table!" Lily shouted up the stairs as he laid out the forks. Her son took advantage of her momentary distraction to wave his hand, carefully guiding a blue-rimmed ceramic from the cupboard to the black-painted table. Inside his head he performed a victory jig when it landed whole and unbroken. No one knew he could control magic like that, and he intended for it to remain that way. He already attracted far too much attention for just living, he didn't need more for succeeding at a wandless spell at the tender age of eleven. Granted, at first, quite a few glasses and knives had ended up smashed into powder on the floor, but it was better than nothing. He set down the last napkin and sat down in his usual seat, waiting for everyone else to appear.
His dad emerged from his office and plonked down after ruffling the boy's long hair. "At the rate you study, you'll end up in Ravenclaw before you know it." Harry grimaced as he rearranged the threads. "There's nothing wrong with studying nor with Ravenclaw," he whined in protest. "But everyone knows Gryffindor is the best," James claimed fakely haughtily, snobbishly sticking his nose in the air. "I highly doubt I'll be in Gryffindor, Dad," his son replied. A sound like the march of a herd of a thousand elephants alerted them to the imminent arrival of the resident Potter demon, better known as Ellie. She barreled into Harry and gave him a giant bear hug of doom and death before turning her lethal assault on James. "Dad dad dad, we're going to Diagon Alley to shop for Harry's birthday presents right dad right pleeeeeease?" She turned her best batch of huge puppy eyes on her victim who immediately caved, missing the smirk that adorned her face the next minute. The eight year old would definitely be a Slytherin later on.
Lily trailed in after her auburn fury, aka her female offspring, saying, "Speaking of your birthday, what will want to eat, Harry? And who are you inviting? It's in two days, sweetie, don't forget." Harry cast his best Lockhart smile at his mother (ugh, oh God, how he hated that man; he'd met him at a few Ministry functions he'd been literally forced to attend and the self-absorbed author had immediately proceeded to bore him with his extraordinarily extravagant falsehoods.) "I was thinking maybe Ron Weasley, Percy and the twins, Neville Longbottom, Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy?" There. Eight people. His mom couldn't complain that he spent far too much time with his books instead of his friends. Now all he had to do was prevent Ron and Draco from killing each other and destroying the house and that the twins wouldn't tease poor Neville too much. Hopefully he could get away and discuss the latest book he'd read with Teddy and Perce.
After lunch, Harry pleaded with his mother to let him brew. He wasn't a bad hand at puppy eyes either, if he dare say so himself. Lily conceded defeat and allowed him to go down to the Potions laboratory as long as she was there to keep an eye on him. She was good at preventing explosions, being, after all, Potions Mistress at Hogwarts. Harry smiled and set to work on some Pepper-Up and Dreamless Sleep. He had apparently inherited his mother's knack for the subject, and his concoctions turned out nearly perfect. Which was good, he decided. He often needed to use the Dreamless Sleep to rest at night.