Summery: "Even more terrified than they were of "that Potter boy", who, they had been warned, was a hardened hooligan who attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys." Not everyone in Little Whinging was afraid of Harry Potter.

Spoilers: The first four books, I s'pose. This takes place during the summer, before book five.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

A/N: This idea has been sitting in my head for months. Don't know where the bloody thing came from. It will be a one-parter. The name "Clarisse Montag" is from the characters "Clarisse" and "Guy Montag" from the book Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. Also, the line "Well, it was nice almost talking you" is from the movie 40 Days and 40 Nights. I don't really like the ending, but oh well.

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The sun shone brightly on the head of one Harry Potter, as he strolled casually down the street towards the park. Since his arrival back at Number Four Privet Drive at the end of his fourth year, he had taken to going on walks during the daytime hours, an attempt to get away from his Aunt and Uncle. With no news from any of his friends yet, Harry thought he might burst. He kicked at a pebble on the street, noticing the bottom of his tennis-shoes were beginning to peal, and wondered what Ron was doing...

Before he could even complete the very thought, a frightened scream accompanied by a very loud crash brought his attention to the end of the block where a seemingly young child had apparently crashed his bike.

Harry didn't even bother attempting to assist the fallen child, just continued walking. Besides, most of the children in Little Whinging were quite frightened of Harry Potter. It wasn't until he heard the muttered"gee, thanks for the ruddy help" that Harry even looked to see who had fallen.

Once he had looked, he was quite surprised to see it wasn't even a child who had fallen, but a boy who must have been Harry's age. Wait a minute; the boy who had fallen was not even a boy to begin with, but a girl with rather short, curly hair.

The girl stood carefully, brushing off her faded blue jeans and lime-green tank. After attempting to smooth out her brown hair, she picked up her old looking red bicycle. Harry guessed she was about to make another rather rude comment to him, before she looked up and saw who he was. Now, Harry was used to getting stared at by wizard folk, but it was something entirely different to have to being done by a muggle.

"You're Harry Potter aren't you? Staying with the Dursleys" Harry almost smiled at the way she spat out the last word, as is she didn't want it coming out of her mouth. He nodded, and was about to be on his way again before she began to introducer herself.

"My name's Clarisse. Clarisse Montag." She said, proudly sticking out her right hand.

He shook her hand slightly, not bother to give his own name. Apparently she already knew it.

Harry began as though he were going to walk away, but slowed once he noticed Clarisse had begun walking with him, her bike at her side. He looked over at her questioningly, and she smiled sheepishly, almost.

"So, how old're you?" Clarisse wondered bluntly, looking over to Harry slightly.

"Fourteen."

Clarisse nodded. "Me as well." She waited a moment, before making another comment. "You don't like to talk much, do you then?"

Harry decided that instead of explaining his discomfited feeling about this entire situation, and the fact that the only muggles he had really had a decent conversation with since, well since before he could remember were his guardians and cousin, he should just nod and let her think he was some poor kid with a criminal mind. To tell the truth, he really didn't think it would be this hard to talk to a muggle after being so used to talking to magic folk. Harry knew nothing about whatever it was that was popular now a days, except Quidditch. And he couldn't very well talk to Clarisse about that, now could he?

"Well, that's okay because I quite like talking. I do it all the times, in fact I've been known to talk to myself on occasion when no one else is there to converse with." Clarisse smiled, and Harry found that he could not help but smile back.

"There are a lot of rumors about you, you know."

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing at her.

"Is it true you go to St. Brutus's?"

Well, she just cut to the point, didn't she? Now of course, Harry knew he had to lie. He couldn't let anyone know he was a wizard, and besides he couldn't back it up without showing her some proof. Best let her think he was a hooligan than her thinking he was fit to be in St. Mungo's. Not that she knew what that was, of course.

"Yeah." He lied, sticking his hands into his pockets.

"What for? Was it something bad? Of course it was something bad, what kind of stupid question is that. Was it something illegal?"

Harry gave her look, which he hoped came across as "I don't want to talk about it," and apparently did as she stopped questioning and apologized quickly.

"Dudley is a real prick." She stated. Then, as if she had realized Dudley was related to Harry, glanced over like she was making sure he didn't lash out at her or something. Instead all she received was a small nod and the words, "Bloody right, he is."

"D'you like to take walks often? Well, what I mean is, I've seen you strolling about before and it doesn't always seem like it's because of the nice weather." She then pointed out that she had seen his walking when it rained as well, and that he hardly ever seemed to pay much attention to his surroundings. "It just seems like you're trying to get away from something." He then nicely asked if she was stalking him.

"You're being an evasive prick, now please answer the question."

He paused, "I hate the Dursleys." Clarisse at first looked a bit startled by the sureness of his voice as he spoke, before nodding slowly, stuffing her hands in her pockets.The two continued in a very silent, though oddly comfortable pace down the street. Clarisse paused at the corner, and started to turn.

"Well, it was nice almost talking to you." She said, grinning, as she walked backwards away from Harry.

Harry almost nodded, before walking towards the Dursley's, hoping to get home before Dudley, pushing all thoughts of the girl from his mind.

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