Chapter One New Neighbors
"What the hell is making all that racket?" Uncle Vernon roared as he glared over his newspaper on a Saturday morning. As though it were HARRY'S fault that the silent din that usually covered Privet Drive was interrupted by doors slamming and numerous groans.
"New neighbors." Aunt Petunia answered, squinting out the window., trying to get a good look at them.
Dudley whined. "I want more eggs," and Aunt Petunia started to pile his plate with more food. Harry rolled his eyes and gazed bemusedly out the window, wondering what he should write to Ron and Hermione, when he felt the wrap of a very heavy newspaper come down on his head.
"Ow." He yelled, covering his head. "What was that for?" He asked, casting and angry glare in Uncle Vernon's direction.
"For not listening the first time!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. "I want you to go over there and tell them to keep the racket down or I will come over and make them bloody keep it down!"
"Now, do you want me to put it in those exact words, or be a bit nicer about it?"
"GO NOW!"
Harry glared at his uncle a moment longer, then stood up and grabbed a piece of bacon. "I wonder what my godfather would say," Harry stated in a would be casual tone, "if he heard you talking to me in such a fashion."
Uncle Vernon turned an interesting shade of purple. "I didn't mean it that way of course. Ask them nicely. In fact, you don't even have to go. I'll send Dudley."
Dudley looked up, completely in awe and shock at the thought of his father suggesting that he GET UP or GO ACROSS THE STREET.
Harry shook his head. "Forget it. I'm already up. Dudley'll just make the whole household look like idiots, and I don't want that considering that technically, unfortunately, I am considered part of this household. I wouldn't want the new neighbors to get a bad impression and have a preset idea of me when I meet them eventually."
And he ran out the door before any of them could figure out what he just said.
He walked across the street and saw a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes sitting on the front step. Movers were having a hard time maneuvering around her, but she didn't seem to notice. She seemed to be muttering something and looking straight ahead. She looked to be about Harry's age. He cleared his throat.
Nothing happened.
He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. She finally looked up at him, and he was surprised to see that she was glaring at him.
"Can I help you?" She asked, looking up at him with a very contempt look. If looks could kill, Harry was sure he would have been dead by now.
"Yes, I live across the street from you. My uncle wanted to know if your movers could possibly keep it down a bit?"
"You can tell your uncle to screw himself." She answered. 'That's heavy stuff they have to carry. They can make as much noise as they would like."
Harry looked taken aback. How could this girl who, if you just saw he sitting there, looked so pure and innocent, sound so mean?
"Where are your parents?" Harry tried asking.
"My dads where I used to live, America. I wish I was there right now. My moms upstairs. I don't think she'd appreciate your rudeness.
Harry thought it would just make matters worse if he pointed out that she was the one with the attitude, so he said instead. "Who are you?"
"Mary DiLeonardi. I'm fourteen years old. I know exactly who you are." She said, smiling at him.
"You couldn't possibly know unless you were a . . ."
"Witch? I am. I'm starting Hogwarts this year, I was transferred. You're Harry Potter." She said, waving her hand as though she were presenting him. "The Boy Who Lived. Who defeated You-Know-Who. The greatest wizard of the age."
"I'm not a great wizard. I'm very ordinary in fact." Harry answered, starting to get a little defensive. This girl was harsh!
"Not from what I hear." Mary grinned at him, much like a Cheshire Cat. "Tell me, Harry." She said, walking to the edge of the step. Harry's mind processed that she must be shorter than him, because she was his exact same height standing on that stoop. She put her arms around his neck and he gazed at her, confused.
"Tell me what kind of secrets you have." She said, leaning into him so close that her lips were brushing his face. He blushed and started to pull away.
"I have no secrets." He answered, cursing himself for not taking his hands off of her waist. How had they gotten there anyway? "I'm an open book basically." He shrugged.
"Well this is one book I can't wait to read." Mary said, leaning in closer. He got the insane idea that she was going to kiss him, and he had no idea what he was going to do about that . . .
"MARY!" An older woman's voice called, making Harry jump and pull away from her quick.
"Damn." Mary muttered, then turned to the door and yelled. "Yeah mom?"
"Who are you talking to?" Mrs. DiLeonardi bellowed from the top of the stairs.
"Just a neighbor mom." She yelled back. "He just wanted to come over and welcome us to the neighborhood."
"That's nice. Tell him to come over tomorrow when we're not so busy."
"Sure thing." She turned back to Harry. "Well, I guess you have to come back tomorrow when we're not so busy." She said with a shrug.
"Who said I wanted to come back?" Harry asked her, wondering how this girl had gone from glaring at him to . . . Well . . . Almost kissing him!
"You're saying you don't want to?" She asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
"I never said that." Harry replied, a little too quickly.
"I'll see you tomorrow than." She said smiling, and blowing him a kiss before going into the house and shutting the door on him, leaving him staring after her in absolute awe.