Swing Away
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Harry's body was draped awkwardly upon a swing, his feet skimming the sand each time he neared the ground. Every so often, he would push back his glasses upon his nose, inwardly cursing that he could have a pair of glasses that actually stayed up if it weren't for the distaste his aunt and uncle had for him. He had long ago abandoned trying to find the reason why they hated him. They simply did, and that's fine with him since he really doesn't fancy them that much either.
"Hello!"
Harry's green eyes widened as he watched another young boy flop into the swing next to him. Harry choked out his own greeting and grimaced at how desperate it sounded. The other boy didn't seem to notice though, and his mouth cracked into a smile, showing that one of his front teeth was missing. Harry thought the other boy looked like grinning fool, but he pushed back the thought. This grinning fool was, after all, attempting to be friendly, and Harry couldn't afford to be choosy.
"You were swinging pretty high," the boy said. "Were you scared?"
Harry felt bewildered at the silly question. He was only swinging, not attempting to do anything gymnastic. Pushing his broken glasses up to his nose, Harry decided he might as well give the eager boy an answer, "No, not really." The other boy was slightly disappointed, which only confused Harry. Was he expecting a monologue? About swinging?
"Oh, well, you gotta teach me your trick then." The boy brought back his grin, "I'm Collin, by the way."
"Harry." A smile finally started to form. "Harry Potter." Just as the last syllable was pronounced, the other young boy's grin instantly disappeared, and his eyes widened in a deer caught in the headlights stare.
"I just remembered I had to do something!" The young boy hastily stood up, and sprinted as though he was being chased by a pack of rapid dogs.
Harry's smile remained on his face as he kicked the sand in frustration. He began to chuckle, the sound scaring him at how bitter it came out. It seems that Dudley's reputation is far more influential then Harry cared to believe. Well, no matter. If Collin is so easily threatened, then perhaps it was good that their potential friendship was cut at the nub. Harry has no patience or sympathy for cowards.
The grains of sand that was tossed into the air due to Harry's kicks became momentary subsided, the setting sun's rays causing the grains to glitter majestically as they stayed afloat in the air. No one noticed the floating sand cloaking Harry, but if they did, they would assume it was a trick of the light, since they lived in a normal neighborhood, and magic is beneath them.
Harry tossed his front torso violently in front of him, his unkempt hair falling to cover his eyes. Following suit, the grains of sand fell with the same motion, making a swish sound before hitting the ground.
Though Harry's face was veiled in shadows and black strands of hair, a glitter of green could be seen, the starting point of a stream of light that curved down his cheek and drip off his chin to land softly down into the once enchanted sand.
The tears were wiped away as quickly as they came. Harry will not give his relatives the satisfaction of knowing he is lonely, even if they are not present to witness his pain. Someday, he will be loved—he can feel it in the air, like an electric current—and when that day comes, Harry will feel the utmost delight in seeing his relatives' shocked expressions that he, little-boy-in-the-cupboard-Harry, is wanted and treasured.
Harry is important, after all. It's just no one realizes that just yet.
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Fin