Harry lay beneath the window, listening to the news. He wasn't allowed to watch the news in the house, because the Dursleys would always suspect that he was up to something.

The news ended with an advertisement jingle about cornflakes and Harry rolled over onto his side, thinking about school, his friends, Ginny and the powerful wizard who wanted to kill him. He shut his eyes, and tried to relax. Just then, he heard the loud churring of a large vehicle. He opened his eyes irritably and saw a moving truck stopping at the house opposite the Dursleys'. A smaller, blue car followed behind and some people got out. Harry knew moving could be noisy, so he got up and decided to go to his room.

'You're back, are you?' said Harry, seeing his owl Hedwig when he opened his bedroom door. She hooted happily.

'Great, now deliver this to Ron for me,' he continued, and tied a rolled-up piece of parchment onto her leg. She hooted again and flew off into the distance.

Harry sighed and stuck a hand under his bed, pulling out a box of Honeydukes chocolates Ron had sent him. Popping one into his mouth, he lay on his bed and shut his eyes again. Hopefully he might get some rest.

Harry suddenly found himself in a large room with Ron and Hermione, and he knew he was dreaming. The room had fluffy clouds hovering near the ceiling and they took broomsticks and flew in and out of them.

Then, a door opened and Ginny came bursting in, pointing a finger accusingly at Harry.

'How could you, Harry?' she shrieked. He looked back at her, bewildered.

'How could you, how could you, how could you? How could you go out with other girls just when we broke up a few weeks ago? Surely you could at least wait a little while for me to settle down and be fine without you? But no, you can't help yourself, can you?' she continued. She began sobbing, and Hermione flew down and began comforting her. Harry looked at Ron, expecting some help. Instead, Ron shrugged.

'You really should have waited a little, you know,' said Ron.

'And of all people, her best friend!' said Hermione.

Harry had no idea what was going on. Suddenly, he felt himself falling off his broom, into a dark, endless pit…

He woke up abruptly, and found that it was already night. The Dursleys hadn't bothered to wake him up for dinner. He frowned and got out of bed, rubbing his head sleepily. For some reason, he felt like taking a walk, so he went downstairs.

'I'm going out,' he said loudly.

Uncle Vernon gave a grunt to show that he heard.

Harry opened the door and left the house. A cold wind blew and he stuck his hands into his pockets. He checked his watch, and realised his birthday was tomorrow. Then it struck him that he would be of age in two hours' time.

Two hours… perhaps he could threaten the Dursleys with magic then. He figured he should practice conjuring food so he would not have to eat the rubbish the Dursleys' ate because of Dudley's diet. He had never thought about all the possibilities when he turned seventeen before this. If only he had his apparition license.

'Hello,' said a voice behind him. Harry jumped and did a quick turnaround. Behind him stood a girl almost a head shorter than him. She looked around his age, with long black hair which curled from the shoulders and round black eyes which twinkled with her mischievous smile.

'Oh, er, hello,' he said in response, wondering what she was doing, lurking behind him in the dead of night.

'What are you doing, walking alone at this time?' she asked. Harry noticed she did not have a British accent, but a rather intriguing one not commonly heard in England.

'I was just…' began Harry, wondering what he should say. Then a thought came to mind.

'…well, what are you doing, walking alone at this time?' he asked. She grinned.

'I was following you, of course,' she said.

'Following me?'

'What's wrong? Would you prefer stalking?'

'No- but… that- that isn't the point. Why are you following me?' asked Harry.

'I saw you coming out of your house alone, and I was bored, so I decided to see what you were up to. I saw you lying under your window today. You didn't seem like someone potentially dangerous,' she answered, shrugging.

Harry stared at her incredulously. At first she stared back, and then her eyes flicked towards the scar on his forehead. Harry flattened his fringe nervously.

'Hey, hey, stop it! Let me see that!' she said, pulling Harry's arm away from his face and taking a good look at his scar.

At least she isn't a witch, Harry thought.

'Is that a scar? How'd you get it?' she asked, after a few moments' silence.

'Er…'

Harry did not know what to say. He realised he had never had to make up some excuse for his scar in an extremely long time, considering she was the first muggle Harry had spoken to other than the Dursleys' for a long while.

'I… I fell down the stairs once,' Harry lied. She smirked.

'Well, if you don't want to tell me, fine. I just moved opposite your house,' she said. That explains the moving truck.

'…so you're the first new person I've met here! I moved here from America, you see. I'm Latina, though,' she continued. And that explains the accent.

'Oh. Okay. I'm Harry,' he said.

'Nathalia,' she said, sticking out a hand, which Harry shook.

They looked at each other for a while before realising they had been standing on the pavement for almost ten minutes.

'It's cold, isn't it? It's a lot warmer, where I come from,' she said, rubbing her arm and breaking the silence.

'Oh. Yeah, kinda cold for summer here, I suppose…'

For some reason Nathalia did not seem satisfied with his answer. She was eyeing his jacket with great interest.

'Oh,' said Harry, realising what she may have meant. 'Er, d'you want my jacket?'

She smiled. 'That would be nice,' she said. Harry passed her his jacket and she put it on, looking smaller than she already did.

'Thanks,' she said quietly. There was another bout of silence.

'So- how long have you been living here?' she said.

'Um, since I was one, I guess.'

'And you are how old…?'

'I'm sixteen – well, seventeen, in a while,' said Harry.

'Oh, I'm sixteen, too! When's your birthday?'

'Er- tomorrow, actually.'

'Really? Well, it's almost tomorrow already, right? What time is it, anyway?'

Harry took a glance at his watch.

'A quarter past ten,' he said.

'Well, happy birthday, one hour and forty-five minutes in advance!' said Nathalia cheerfully, practically bouncing. Harry could not stifle a small laugh.

'You know, if you don't mind… I mean, since you're not really doing anything,' began Nathalia, 'could you show me around this place?'

'Er,' said Harry, 'there's nothing much around Little Whinging, really, unless you like houses.'

'Okay,' said Nathalia, grinning in an exasperated though amused way. 'Let me try this again. Since you're not really doing anything… wanna take a walk?'

Harry blinked at her for a moment. She had to be the first muggle who actually wanted to spend any time at all with him. He figured there would not be any harm in taking a walk with Nathalia, so he shrugged and gave a nod. Nathalia laughed.

'You are really cute, you know that? In an adorable way, that is,' she said. Harry gave her a small smile, unsure how to react to this compliment he rarely received.

Their walk was a rather silent one at first. They appreciated the cool night air as they paced slowly along the path. Harry felt rather strange, taking a walk with a muggle he barely even knew. Still, he felt very free, not having to be 'Harry Potter – The Boy Who Lived', or 'Harry Potter – The Chosen One'… but instead, being just plain Harry, the boy-next-door (or across the road?).

Just then, he heard Nathalia laugh again. He looked at her, and she grinned back.

'You don't look anything like your brother,' she said.

Harry shot a quizzical look at her. 'My brother?' he asked.

'Oh! Wasn't he your brother? I saw him go home… you know, the… big- blonde-'

'Dudley?' said Harry, and he began to laugh more than he had done in a while.

'No, he's not my brother… he's my cousin. The beefy man's my uncle, and the skinny woman's my aunt.'

'So you don't live with your parents? Funny… neither do I,' said Nathalia, smiling again. This time, however, it was a slightly crooked, saddened smile.

'Who do you live with, then?'

'My aunt and uncle, like you do.'

There was some silence again when Harry wondered if he should ask why she did not live with her parents.

'My parents died. Last month.'

Harry looked at her. She no longer wore that mischeivous smile, and she seemed to have lost her happy bounce. He quickly turned to look at his feet instead. He heard her sniff. He saw her wipe a tear with his jacket sleeve.

'I'm sorry I spoiled this,' she said quickly, sniffing again.

'No, don't be sorry-'

'I just miss them so much-'

'It's not your fault-'

'And we argued before they left-'

'That's got nothing to do with-'

'I never appreciated them-'

'Look, Nat, my parents died too!' said Harry exasperatedly, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her in the eye. It was after he said it that he wondered why he had just called her Nat.

They stopped and Nathalia looked at him with large, watery eyes.

'I'm sorry,' she said again.

'Don't be. I'm fine with it, reallly.'

More silence.

'Sorry to ask, but… when did they…?' she said suddenly.

'When I was one. Just before I moved here,' Harry said. He heard her sniff again.

'Look, er, maybe we should go back?' Harry suggested. Nathalia nodded and they turned back.

Considering how sad she seemed, Harry thought it best to walk her home. She was probably the only orphan he knew other than himself – except, perhaps, Voldemort.

'Thanks, Harry,' said Nathalia when they got to her door. She had stopped crying by now.

'No problem,' he replied. 'Goodnight, then.'

'Goodnight, Harry.'

He had just begun to walk home when he heard footsteps behind him. 'Harry, wait!'

He spun around, and once he did, he caught a glimpse of Nathalia's face before she swooped up and kissed him on the cheek. He blinked a few times, temporarily stunned.

It was dark, but he could see Nathalia blushing.

'Thank you, Harry. Really.'

And she ran off before he could reply.

Rubbing his cheek gently, he walked back home.