A/N: This drabble took place in Harry's first summer vacation.
Knock, Knock
It was five o'clock in the afternoon.
Except the window cleaning, all the chores demanded by aunt Petunia were done, and now an 11-year-old Harry Potter-almost 12-was standing besides the huge window,with drags in hands, sighing.
He missed Hogworts, badly.
The boy rolled up his sleeves, sank the drags into a bucket, preparing for the window-cleaning. Warm honey sunshine filtered through the glass, gradually dyed his collar into a color of butter cream. Harry sighed again, and he turned.
Knock, Knock.
A smirk was pressed against the glass. Shocked by unexpectedness, Harry dared not to move, only stared at the stranger who stood in front of him-also behind the glass. The man aged around 25, with a pair of crimson eyes, in which something flowed like vintage wine when sunlight glinted into them.
Knock, Knock.
The stranger taped on the glass a second time. Harry gazed at the man's white knuckles, didn't know what to do, waiting. The man must have said something, Harry supposed, although he could not hear the voice blocked by the thick glass, nor read the words from the blurred lips in the other's low murmurs. So Harry shook his head.
The man curved a smile, while the unknown emotion in his eyes flowed out violently. He crooked his finger to beckon the boy.
Harry leaned himself towards the glass, which was cool and refreshing. Wearing a rather unsatisfied expression, the stranger opened his mouth and his lip movements suggested something akin to the pronunciation of "more", thus Harry imitated the man's earlier gesture-pressed his face onto the glass.
Murmuring something, the stranger adjusted his neck, moved slowly towards Harry's direction, right opposite Harry's face he stopped. They looked eye to eye, then the man deepened his smile, pressed himself against the glass, and he kissed.
Harry aghastly drew back. Seeing Harry's color-changed face, which converted from astonished blood-drained white to bewildered blood-refilled-too-much red, the stranger grinned, waved his hands and vanished.
After a few minutes' recovering from the shock, Harry leaned on the glass, with face unintentionally touching the icy glass, only to realize his lips were now burning like fire.