Disclaimer: i do not in anyway own the characters in this story. all harry potter names belong to j.k. rowling.

author's note- first chapter. i don't like to make the chapters to long so you don't have to worry about starting it and not being able to finish. i'll have more coming every two days or something. feel free to email me about any questions or suggestions.

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A silent, dark figure stalked down the street. The figure was wearing a dark cloak, and was almost invisible in the cloudy night. This character, to whom we shall give the benefit of the doubt and call a "he", looked carefully at the numbers on the houses. Number four, he needed number four. Six.... five... there it was. Number four. As swift as a hawk, he swooped toward the small house on the quiet street.

A street called Privet Drive.

Cautiously, carefully, he crept towards the door. How much he wanted to knock on that door. He didn't have to worry about the idiotic muggles who lived in this here house, they were easy to get past. But there was another inhabitant, a sixteen year-old boy, who lived here as well. He could have apparated of course, if Dumbledore hadn't placed an anti-disapparation charm on 4, privet drive (not that he didn't have good reason). knocking, would have to do for now.

As he waited and no one opened the door,he raised a long wooden wand and whispered silently, "alohomora!" With a click, the door unlocked. He opened it to a room that was dark, but even in the darkness he could tell that this room was sickeningly clean. Everything was spotless. He was not the type that would be welcome in this house.

He found he could not find the stairs in this darkness, so he raised the wand and mouthed the words "lumos!" A stream of light broke the darkness and for the first time we can have some idea of what the stranger looked like.

He had strangely untidy dark brown hair, that looked as if he had not combed it for days. But he had, he combed it quite often. His hair just grew that way. There were wrinkles on his thin face. Wrinkles, from stress and from despair. His life had not been happy the past 17 years.

Now the stranger crept up the stairs, careful to step lightly on each step in case one creaked, and then began to look for the right room.

There were loud snores coming from the first room. Snores which evidently came from a large, grown man. Not this room... search on.

The next room was a bathroom. And then he came to a room that was quite normal, but he knew this was it. This was the room he searched for. Without making a sound he turned the doorknob. The clouds seem to have uncovered the moon, for moonlight was shining through the window and on to the bed, to show the shady outline of a skinny teenage boy.

"Harry..." the stranger breathed. This was the first time he had ever gotten to see the boy in person. He had never been allowed to before. For moments he just stood there, in the presence of the boy of whom he had never met, but he knew so well.

The boy was stirring.

The figure stared for a few seconds.

Then with a swish of a dark cloak, and a rush down the stairs (carefully still, he didn't want to wake anyone else) the figure was gone. He had left.

Which left the boy, Harry Potter by name and fully awake now, to wonder who or what he saw.