Miss Moony would like to say that she doesn't own Harry Potter and that she had no help with this story from Miss Wormtail, Miss Padfoot or Miss Prongs.
This takes place in the summer after fifth year.
------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------
Little Boy Lost
The girl in the yellow dress liked to sit on the garden fence in the afternoons, and watch as her new neighbours went about their everyday lives: people-watching was a very educational pastime. She was six and a half, just about, and she considered herself sophisticated, as she knew no one else who educated themselves outside school.
There was one boy she liked to watch more than others: proud and beautiful, but with a strange, defeated sadness in his deep green eyes. After the first time she saw him, she persuaded her mother to buy her a new green dress that she could wear instead of her yellow one, but it didn't fit, so it was taken back to the shop, and she didn't bother asking for a new one.
The boy didn't have any friends that she knew of, he was always on his own as he wandered through the streets in his torn clothes and scuffed trainers, kicking the dust as he went, his head bent low. The girl in the yellow dress thought he looked lost.
One time, he passed close to her on the way – she supposed – to the playground. 'Hello, Little Boy Lost,' she said, and he stared at her for a moment without speaking, and then he moved on.
After that, she didn't see him again for a while, and when he next passed her house, she noticed a significant difference in him. It was in his eyes, some kind of inner strength, and determination. She wasn't sure where he'd found it, but she was happy for him.
'Hello, Little Boy Lost,' she said, and when he turned to look at her, she said, 'though maybe I should use a different name: you don't look so lost any more.'
He stared blankly for a few seconds, and then his mouth twisted into a small smile. 'Harry,' he told her simply, then moved on. The girl in the yellow dress was left waving after him.
Her mother told her that she'd heard Bad Things about Harry Potter. About his school, and there were rumours that he'd got someone killed a few months back. The girl in the yellow dress didn't quite see how he could, but when she watched him interact with the other children in the area, she saw how they either avoided him, or at least went silent whenever they saw him coming. And her mother was never wrong, so she concluded that it must be true.
The next time Harry walked by her house, the girl in the yellow dress didn't greet him by any name. She wasn't even there.