He was sitting alone. A cool stray breeze tricked his tangled hair into dancing just on his forhead. Then flat. Then mischeviously it would tickle him once again, irritating.
"I need a damn haircut", he thought to himself.
Letting his mind drift off again he mindlessly pushed back and forth the ground below him, swaying mindlessly on the swing he had been perched on for the last hour or so. Who knows if it had been longer. It didn't matter. He just wanted to get the hell out of here. Back to what he knew. Back to the place that didn't make him want to kill himself every second he was awake.
"Six more days and then I can go back to living…". Suddenly, his musings were shaken by the sound of a car pulling up, sputtering to a hault with a loud crack of the exhaust.
"Ey man? Mom forget to pick you up?" The four boys in the old camaro laughed. It was not friendly banter. He remaind silent. This was not going to end well.
"He asked you a question hombre" chimed the guy in the seat behind the driver. His neck was covered in markings, albeit he was only but 17 or 18.
"Fuck" thought the boy to himself. This is what he hated about this world. He was defenseless. Nothing he could do to save himself. In this world, presentation of size was what mattered. So were balls.
"Yea I heard you," he spoke up finally. "Whatever, fuck it" he mused inwardly. "I just couldn't catch what you were saying over that piece of shit you're driving."
Bad move.
Within a second the doors were open and the main guy was up in his face. The boy could smell his inhebriation on him almost as quick as he saw the glint of steel in the guy's hand.
"What did you say to me? You might want to remember who you are talking to punk. Looks like you run your mouth too much. Already got cut up on your forehead. Looks like you need a match down her on your cheek…"
He closed his eyes. "Its just pain" he thought to himself, "and whatever he's right, I am already marked up."
With wild eyes and drool forming on his tongue as it danced up to his teeth, the guy brought the knife up to the boys face and—
"Jesse? Uh oh boy what chu gettin' in to."
And with that it was over. With more skill, more power than any spell could be cast she saved him. The steel, within the blink of an eye was sheathed. He had heard of her before from his cousin talking about her with his friends; dirty disquisting things that he was sure Dudley only pretended to know about when his buddies would mention it first.
Yet he had also seen her around just as every other male had. Grown up, filled out. Long black wavy hair and dark eyes were on top with tight jeans and middrift shirts on the bottom. Oddly, even in this situation, he wondered how she continued to wear what she did and never get sent home for violating some sort of dress code policy. Even the teachers want her.
"Ey baby. Nuthin' just kickin it. You need a ride?" At this point, out of his pocket came a cigarette and a lighter. He offered one to the girl.
"Sure." She swiftly stole the cigarette out of his mouth and stuck it in hers. As she walked towards the car, the guy turned his attention to her ass giving her just enough time to sneak a glance at the boy and deliver a quick wink.
"You're welcome," it read.
"Thanks," Harry nodded back.
After watching the car disappear into the distance he decided to go home. If he couldn't go back to his true home now, he would at least go back his prison of this world to wait out the next few days. "I'm no good to anyone if get beat up to the point of coma. "
But what good was he to anyone? And quite frankly, he was sick of giving a fuck. He didn't ask for this, didn't want it, and was sick of dealing with it all the time. Sometimes, late at night, he would steal some of his uncle's bourbon and sneak to his room and drink the hot liquid until he couldn't feel anymore. "Which reminds me I need to stop refilling the bottle with water or I'm going to get busted." And what would that entail his mind asked? A slap? A beating? Once again, its just pain. And lately he had been feeling it in his blood all day anyways.
The days went by, slowly, dragging on as if to purposefully slap him in the face. As if to reiterate that the world didn't want him to be happy. That he was just there to perform a task that no one else wanted to deal with so they put it on him like it was some grand award. "I'm probably not even special," he thought, "they probably just all voted and chose me at some town hall meeting or something. Big fucking hoax."
His thirst pulled him from his thoughts. Turning his attention back to the vending machine in front of him, he pulled out a crumpled up bill out of his pocket so that he could get a Coke, a water, Christ anything. He was so thirsty. Beyond thirsty. Ready to lick his own sweat he was thirsty. He did his best to smooth out the bill before inserting.
It went in and came out.
"Dammit not this game," he muttered under his breath trying to keep his cool.
Smoothed it, inserted it, watched it get rejected.
And it was then that he lost it. Years of frustration all came fuming out at the machine in front of him. He punched and kicked at it, all the while ignoring the sharp searing pains that it sent through him whenever he connected a blow. "FUCK!" he screamed before giving up and resting his head against the door.
"Wow. I'd hate to see what you would do if it stole your money." And there she was again. That hair and those clothes where only complemented by the mischievious smirk hidden behind a red sucker.
"I wish it would at least take my money," he shot back. He had no reason to be rude, but at this particular moment, he was more embarrassed than upset; no one should have seen his tantrum.
"Here let me try." She stepped up to him and stuck out her hand for the bill. And it was then that it happened. She thought she was too fast for him, thought that he wouldn't see. He did. In the midst of her feigning the attempts at trying to smooth it out of the side of the machine she had quickly waived her hand over the bill and made it smooth. Even if he wouldn't have caught her sleight of hand she was busted; the bill was entirely too smooth, too straight. It was like brand new.
As she handed the bill to him, their eyes met and in a flash there was an understanding. Of what and who she was. She was like him. Knowing the seriousness of the situation for her, Harry broke the gaze and placed the bill into the machine. It made the satisfying sound of being processed. He made his selection and out came his Coke. Standing upright from picking it up he saw the girl walking away backwards.
"That's two you owe me."
The next day he still could not shake the encounter from his head. She was his age. Lived in his area. She should be attending Hogwarts. But why wasn't she? Did she go somewhere else? And more specifically, how could she use magic without being caught? The questions danced around his mind, teasing him, like the bangs on his head. "I really do need that haircut."
It was his birthday. Any moment, he would be swept away, released for awhile from this dank depression which was the aunt and uncles's world. His belongings were neatly packed as they had been for a while now. Not wanting to be in this room, this house any longer, he put on a sweatshirt and headed outside for a walk.
Perhaps it was that he was leaving; perhaps it was that it was his birthday. Whatever the reason, today he felt almost, happy? That was too stong. Pleasant maybe? Content? Something like that. At least this would be the last time he would walk these blocks for a while. Perhaps next summer he would change his routines up a bit and—
He froze. He didn't have to turn around to recognize the rumbling behind him. That distinct sound of an engine slowing down. "Here we go again."
"Ey, Jesse, look," one of the comrades yelled out the window, "its your little buddy."
Harry turned to face them. He would show no fear. Yet the truth was, something felt wrong. It was the silence. He was on a back road. No one around.
"Oh, ya. Hey essie, you still don't like my car? Maybe you can hear me now." With that being said out came the gang leader's heat. It was a hand held piece, something like what a cop would carry. One shot, and special boy or not, he would be dead. He had no idea what to do. His wand was packed at the house with his belongings. Couldn't out run a car or a bullet. He had no comebacks this time. No arsenal. Nothing.
As he looked for a way out he heard a rustling around the corner. It was her. Again. This time she was unaware at first, headphones in, messing with something on her cellphone. "This is getting a bit predictable. Why does this keep happening?" The truth was, he really didn't give a good shit why she kept running into him at opportune moments. He just hoped she had enough charm left over with these assholes to get him free from then.
As he watched her, the gang did not falter their attention away from him. This time they had a bone to pick with him.
"LOOK AT ME," shouted Jesse.
This yell triggered the girl to look up from her phone from a block away. She froze and in a moment Harry thought, in the briefest second, he saw her prepare herself. Readying that cool composure. She started towards them. "Aw come on boys let's keep our dicks in our pants shall we?"
"Butt the fuck out this doesn't concern you," yelled Jesse. And that's when Harry noticed it. Not in his eyes only but in all of the guys eyes with him in the car. They were high. Messed up on something. There was no persuading any of them.
But the girl wasn't backing down. She walked straight up to the group until she was between Harry and them.
"Look Jesse Im sure he didn't do anything that deserves—" and faster than a flash of lightening Jesse was out of the Camaro and took a backhand to the girl. She did no fall, did not falter. She took it and stood there and looked him straight in the eye. This defiance enraged Jesse.
"I want all of your money," he shouted at both Harry and the girl while aiming his gun. Harry knew he had nothing to give.
"Oh my god Jesse stop it you know I don't have nothing. Just calm do-."
Smack. This time a punch.
Harry was done. He swung at the bastard and knocked him on his ass sending the gun flying. They both reached for it at the same time and before Harry had known he lost the fight he was gone. Inside a kitchen. A familiar kitchen. And there was screaming. And blood. And he was soaked.
"Are you hurt?" shouted Ron. "Whh-hat…" Harry stammered. "Are you hurt?" he shouted again bringing him back to reality. "No, no I'm okay." The screaming did not stop. There was a girl being worked on the kitchen table. All the adults were surrounding her pouring potions and muttering strange incantations under their breath. Just like that she was silent.
"Is she going to be alright? What happened?" Harry asked frantically. He couldn't pinpoint it, but he could feel a panic attack coming on. However, he did his best to swallow and control his emotions. Why was he so upset?
"Yes she'll be fine. What was the object those boys were pointing at you? We near say it would have gotten you should she not have covered you. Brave girl. Do you know her?" ask Ron's father, Mr. Weasley.
He had no idea how to answer so he went with his gut "Yes. She is a friend from back home."
"Very well then. After we have healed her we will remove this memory and send her back. I didn't know muggles could be this brave. Good thing we apparated to you two in time. Wherever you go my boy you just can't manage to stay out of trouble."
Harry was lost. He wasn't thinking about anything else that was said about bravery or their perfect timing. All that he kept thinking to himself was, "she isn't a muggle."
"Hey…hey come on wake up."
At first he could only manage one eye, then two, before his glasses where roughly placed on his face.
"Get me the fuck out of here."
She was awake and pissed as all hell. "Wait, um, look thank you for helping me again, but you got hurt so some neighbors rushed out to help us…"
"Don't play these fucking games with me I know we aren't in any god damn neighbors house. I want to go back."
He never had a stronger instinctive understanding with another human being. "Why? I saw what you did that that bill the other day. And you know about it here? Why would you go back? What school do you go to?"
"First of all I don't have to answer any of this. Secondly I choose not to go here and have anything to do with this. And quite frankly shame on you for not doing the same. These people that are born here know this as their life, but you are choosing to ignore your own world for another. Don't want to help with global warming? Or the economy? No, you only want to have fun and save your own ass." She was fuming. Harry couldn't necessarily understand why.
"I wouldn't say that everything here is fun…" he began. Once again however, his efforts at talking were futile and thus cut off.
"I just want to get out of here."