Okay, readers.....I know what you are thinking (yes, I can read your minds,
MUAHAHAHHAHAHAHA) but, seriously. You're thinking that this is just going
to be another stupid crossover between Harry Potter and Sailor Moon. WELL
YOU ARE WRONG!! This will be a really serious one.....and I promise to
make it better as I go along, provided that people actually read and review
this so that I can make the imrovements. I don't care if you flame me or
praise me as a literary god, as long as I know that people out there care
about what I have to say! Thank You, and enjoy the first chapter....while
you still can......MUAHAHAHHA *clears throat* sorry about that......oh, and
by the way, this is about Harry and the gang in their fifth year. I
understand that the book will come out soon, and will be in no way like the
story that I am writing now, but hey, it's my fan fic, deal with it!
AN: Harry Potter and the gang: not mine........Hogwarts: not mine.......The plot: mine, and PRICELESS!
************************************************************************
Chapter 1
"Wake up, you nasty little git, and get breakfast started! I want everything to be absolutely perfect for my Duddy's birthday!" yelled a harsh voice from the other side of the door. Harry opened his eyes and saw that it was still very dark. It wasn't even dawn yet. He covered his head with the pillow. Light footsteps signalled that Aunt Petunia was leaving.
Harry groaned, and got up from his squished in bed, inherited from Dudley, who had apparently left a permanent "dent" in the mattress, if you could call what looked like a cave-in a dent. Harry grabbed his glasses and shoved them on. He still wasn't able to see, it was so dark. He shuffled across the room and opened the closet, which was filled with mostly old, baggy clothes, also inherited from the great Dudley himself. He pulled on some baggy jeans that looked about 10 sizes too big for his thin body, and also a shirt that made him look like the Incredible Shrinking Man.
Harry walked down the stairs, barely awake. Halfway down, he tripped and tumbled the rest of the way. Sprawled on the floor, he wondered, What's the point? Maybe I should've just stayed in bed. He lay there for only a few seconds, thinking about this, when Aunt Petunia found him and gave him a swift kick to the side, ordering him to get up to cook.
He made his way, mostly by feel since it was still pitch dark to the kitchen. Looking at the microwave, he found out that it was still 4 o' clock in the morning. He made the usual breakfast of several dozen pancakes, sausages, and eggs for the rest of the family. As soon as Dudley had come home, his mother had taken pity on him, declaring that he was "much too skinny." Dudley had lost weight at Smeltings because of the nutritionist hired especially to care for his diet. Watched like a hawk, he was restrained to eating only fruit and vegetables. Uncle Vernon declared that Dudley looked like a telephone pole, and ordered at once that Dudley be fed more, at least during his summer vacation. Harry didn't see the point to this, because Dudley still took up nearly a whole couch when the Dursleys would have their TV time. Yet, Aunt Petunia insisted on feeding him more.
Finished with making breakfast, Harry grabbed some bread and cheese and snuck back upstairs. He glanced around his room, a shabby little space given to him only when Uncle Vernon felt that moving Harry would stop some mysterious letters from coming so long ago. Rubbing his forehead, Harry made his way towards Hedwig's cage, where the snowy white owl was sleeping, with its head tucked under one wing. Not wanting to disturb her, he slip some of his bread in between the bars of the cage, then ate the rest himself. He looked out of the window to see the sun rising over the horizon. Brilliant colors of gold, orange, red, and violet melted together in this beautiful landscape, as Harry sighed and lifted up a loose floorboard underneath his bed.
He knelt down to pick up the last of his homework, an assignment for the History of Magic, taught by the monotone Professor Binns. Binns had assigned the class to do an essay on other kinds of magical people in history. It had to be at least 5 feet long. Harry was nearly finished with his, and had already covered leprechauns and their history in Ireland, genies living in magic lamps in the early Middle East, witch doctors from Africa, and dragons from the Far East. All he had left to do was a couple of inches on the most recent magic people, although the least credible: the psychics from America. He dipped his quill into an inkwell and scribbled furiously, and finished as the sun started to shine brightly from the sky. Harry added a last period, and smiled at his work, until he noticed that these last few lines that he had written were disappearing. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he realized that he had been writing with some joke ink that was formulated to disappear, sent to him compliments of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a shop that he had funded himself. No problem, Harry thought to himself. It was only the last paragraph. So, he got out the real ink, and rewrote what he could remember, then rolled up the parchment and tucked it back underneath the floorboard. Harry got up and walked to the window, stretching his arms.
"Now for the important part," he said to nobody in particular. "I need to fix my social life and survive a possible attack from the most powerful Dark wizard of all time. Piece of cake." It was now daylight, and downstairs, the Dursley family seemed to have finished their breakfast and gone to watch TV. Harry said goodbye to Hedwig, who was now awake and happily eating her bread, and headed downstairs to the living room. There, Dudley was plopped on the couch as usual, watching cartoons, as his parents were busy decorating for the big soiree. Uncle Vernon, who was busy stringing crepe paper across the room, caught sight of Harry, as he entered.
"See here, young man!" he said, getting down from the ladder. "You are not going to ruin my perfect son's fifteenth birthday, you hear me? That means no talking about anything of your world, or your school, or you'll never see the light of day again!" Dudley delighted in seeing Uncle Vernon rip Harry to shreds, as Harry cowered in the large shadow of him.
"Mommy!" Dudley cried out fakingly. "I don't want him ruining my party! He'll drive all the girls away with his ugliness!"
"Don't worry, Duddy!" she said, swooping down on him like a mother hen to her chick. "Vernon, do something about it!" Aunt Petunia tried to wrap her thin arms around Dudley to console him, but couldn't get the halfway around his body.
Uncle Vernon glowed with anger, as if he were already thinking the worst. "You stay away from those girls, Harry! In fact, stay away from the rest of the guests completely! If I catch you conversing with someone..." Uncle Vernon drew his finger across his own throat, making a swift sound. "Get the picture?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry reluctantly. It's not like he had wanted to talk to any of the horrible relatives of the Dursleys, or the bullying friends of Dudley anyhow. Harry just stood in the doorway to the room, as his menacing aunt and uncle finished the decorations. It looked more like a kiddie party to Harry than anything else. Was Dudley turning 5 or 15? Then, his aunt and uncle started getting ready to leave.
"We'll be back, Duddums," said Aunt Petunia, kissing Dudley on his plump cheek.
"Yes, we're just picking up the DJ....it seems that his car has broken down," said Uncle Vernon, casting Harry the evil eye as if he was responsible for the destruction of a car.
"Mom! Don't leave me with HIM!" squealed Dudley pathetically, pointing at Harry.
"Nonsense. You know that he isn't allowed to do....." Uncle Vernon swallowed down hard, but the others knew what he was going to say.
"Okay then. Me and Harry will have a wonderful time!" he said, smiling evilly. His parents departed, and wouldn't return until the party was about to start, leaving 2 hours for Dudley to torture Harry. He chased Harry around the house, but couldn't quite keep up with the fast little Quidditch seeker. Harry could merely walk, without breaking a sweat, and Dudley wouldn't have been able to catch him running. Dudley became all tired out, gave Harry a dirty look, and sat right back down at the couch to watch more TV.
Harry grinned, and sat down in a chair quite far away from Dudley's couch, but just far enough to watch what was on. Suddenly, there appeared on TV a family much worse than that of the Dursleys: the Osbournes. Harry watched in awe as Ozzy Osbourne himself walked around his mansion, swearing and cussing at everything in sight. His teenage kids even swore, along with his wife. Dudley kept stealing threatening glances at the now triumphant Harry, planning what he should do next to torture his little cousin. Now thinking about it, Dudley saw that although Harry was smaller than he was in weight, his "little" cousin was actually taller than he was by at least half a foot.
"When did you grow, scarface?" Dudley asked, tauntingly.
"Oh, during the school year, when I got to eat REAL food," Harry shot back sarcastically. Dudley reddened in the face, then realized that he wouldn't be able to catch Harry in a million years. So, he turned and looked around the fully decorated room, until his eyes caught sight of his presents. He pointed at each one, counting first the ones on top of one table, then the rest that lay under the table.
"25 plus 11," Dudley said, trying to calculate the hard (*cough* dimwit *cough*) equation.
"36. Geez, you're a sharp one," Harry again said sarcastically. Dudley didn't quite process what Harry had said, but instead, whined.
"36?! I have one less present than last year!" he pounded his fists like hammers on the couch. Harry's thought wandered to the recent shipment he had received from the Weasley twins new shop, the same place that had sent him the disappearing ink. Hmm, should I give Dudley some Ton-Tongue toffee again?, he thought. Naah, he said to himself. Let's try and be a good boy this year. Harry glanced at the cuckoo clock, just about to strike12 noon.
"Hey, Dudley? Isn't your party going to start in, say, 30 minutes? You should get dressed," Harry said.
"Sure, Potter. You're probably lying," Dudley said, without even looking at Harry. But then, he too looke up at the clock, and waddled up the stairs to dress up in his room. Harry jumped onto the couch and wanted to change the channel to some cartoons. He came upon an interesting one while flipping through the channels. Harry had by some chance entered the international channel, and a very intersting cartoon about girls in short skirts fighting evil came on. "Moon......prism......power!" yelled one with her blonde hair up in two buns and flowing down to her knees. He saw another, smaller girl with pink hair shoot some little laser hearts at some monster. Harry enjoyed watching this little Japanese cartoon, for the time being. The cartoon had finished a little too soon for his liking when a sudden sound of footsteps came to the door, and the sound of a key going through a lock was heard. Harry switched off the TV, and ran into the kitchen.
From there, he saw the Dursleys reenter with lots of equipment in their arms. What looked like a college student walked in as well. There was a little bit of a banging noise upstairs, and Dudley came rushing down, making a grand entrance. Aunt Petunia clapped, and Uncle Vernon smiled the most gigantic smile Harry had ever seen. Disgusting, Harry thought to himself. The, Aunt Petunia came rushing into the kitchen. She pulled out what seemd to be a seven layer cake from the refrigerator, and placed it on the table that Harry was leaning on. She shot him a look, which Harry understood as being, "Don't touch that cake, or else!"
Harry sat quietly in the kitchen, watching more and more people stream in as 12:30 sounded from the cuckoo clock. He saw many of the relatives come in and then outside to the patio. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rushed this way and that, welcoming guests, and delivering appetizers all around. Harry then saw a large group of boys come in, no doubt from Smelting, Dudley's school. They took one look at Harry, and laughed hard. Then, a group of girls arrived. They saw Harry, and headed towards him, to the kitchen. Aunt Petunia saw this and shooed Harry out of the kitchen to sit on the staircase.
He stared longingly around the staircase at the party that was raging. Actually, it was very calm, and no one wanted to dance. He heard Aunt Petunia remark that this was the day the Dudley would get his first girlfriend. Wow, Harry thought, I didn't know you could get a girlfriend from throwing the lamest party of the year. Harry continued to watch as a young girl in a short, violet dress walked up to the punch bowl. She was probably some cousin twice removed, for she had dark skin, and black hair strewn with violet highlights. She seemed short in stature, but great in age, perhaps about Harry's age. She poured some punch into her cup, as Dudley was egged on by his cronies to go talk to her. He strode up to her, whispered something in her ear, and immediately received a slap in the face. Harry, trying not to laugh, kept his mouth shut, but that only made him snort. He finally let out all his laughter, which gained the notice of that pretty little girl. She glanced in his direction, and Harry tried desperately to turn back around the staircase, so she wouldn't see him. But it was too late. She had already seen him and was making her way to the staircase.
"May I have this seat?" she asked in an American accent, gesturing to the space beside Harry on the bottom step. Harry nodded. She sat down, took a few sips of her punch, then looked him straight in the eye. Her eyes, strangely, were violet like her hair. "Why aren't you with those other boys?"
"Because, I'm just the dorky cousin of the one who just talked to you. What did he say?" said Harry curiously.
"Well, he used a pick-up line on me. He just walked up, and said, 'Your name should be Campbell's, because you're mmm, mmm, good!' So I just had to slap him. Why do you think you're dorky?"
"Because......I go to a different school, and they like to bully me around for it."
"Which school?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Fine, then why are you sitting by yourself? You know, you are very popular here at this party..." Harry looked at her in disbelief.
"Yeah, right. Me, and my oversized elephant skins."
"Well, I wouldn't say that," the girl said, pointing to the kitchen. There, all the girls were staring at him. When Harry looked at them, they all waved liked idiots and started giggling hysterically. Harry waved back, smiling. "Besides," the girl continued, "where I'm from, baggy pants are all the rage!"
"You're from the States, aren't you?"
"No not technically.....You see, it's complicated. I was born Japanese, and sent to school in California since I was 4 or 5. I only go back to visit Tokyo in the summers."
"Then, what brings you here to Jolly Ol' England?"
"I'm scouting out the place where I'll have to go to school next. For some reason, my parents are sending me to a school here."
"And, what are you doing here?"
"Shhh! I'm not even supposed to be here! I don't know these people!"
"I wish I could say the same," Harry said, reluctantly. They sat for awhile, side by side, until Uncle Vernon spotted the foreign girl. He charged like an angry bull over.
"Uhh.....I gotta go!" she said, heading towards the door. "Nice meeting you.....what was your name again?"
"I haven't mentioned it. It's Harry. Harry Potter," Harry said, wondering if he would ever see this amazing girl again.
"Nice meeting you, Harry Potter," she said with a grin. "I'm Cassie Takachi. I hope we can meet again soon!" With that, she ran out the door and jumped on something. It was a skateboard, and Harry watched in awe as she maneuvered the thing with ease, even if she was wearing high-heeled shoes. Uncle Vernon looked wildly out the door as Cassie zoomed away. He then turned to Harry.
"I told you! NO TALKING WITH THE LADIES!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. He grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck and dragged him upstairs. Harry glanced back sadly, and saw the girls all sigh with disappointment as he was shoved back into his stuffy little room for perhaps the remainder of the summer.
AN: Harry Potter and the gang: not mine........Hogwarts: not mine.......The plot: mine, and PRICELESS!
************************************************************************
Chapter 1
"Wake up, you nasty little git, and get breakfast started! I want everything to be absolutely perfect for my Duddy's birthday!" yelled a harsh voice from the other side of the door. Harry opened his eyes and saw that it was still very dark. It wasn't even dawn yet. He covered his head with the pillow. Light footsteps signalled that Aunt Petunia was leaving.
Harry groaned, and got up from his squished in bed, inherited from Dudley, who had apparently left a permanent "dent" in the mattress, if you could call what looked like a cave-in a dent. Harry grabbed his glasses and shoved them on. He still wasn't able to see, it was so dark. He shuffled across the room and opened the closet, which was filled with mostly old, baggy clothes, also inherited from the great Dudley himself. He pulled on some baggy jeans that looked about 10 sizes too big for his thin body, and also a shirt that made him look like the Incredible Shrinking Man.
Harry walked down the stairs, barely awake. Halfway down, he tripped and tumbled the rest of the way. Sprawled on the floor, he wondered, What's the point? Maybe I should've just stayed in bed. He lay there for only a few seconds, thinking about this, when Aunt Petunia found him and gave him a swift kick to the side, ordering him to get up to cook.
He made his way, mostly by feel since it was still pitch dark to the kitchen. Looking at the microwave, he found out that it was still 4 o' clock in the morning. He made the usual breakfast of several dozen pancakes, sausages, and eggs for the rest of the family. As soon as Dudley had come home, his mother had taken pity on him, declaring that he was "much too skinny." Dudley had lost weight at Smeltings because of the nutritionist hired especially to care for his diet. Watched like a hawk, he was restrained to eating only fruit and vegetables. Uncle Vernon declared that Dudley looked like a telephone pole, and ordered at once that Dudley be fed more, at least during his summer vacation. Harry didn't see the point to this, because Dudley still took up nearly a whole couch when the Dursleys would have their TV time. Yet, Aunt Petunia insisted on feeding him more.
Finished with making breakfast, Harry grabbed some bread and cheese and snuck back upstairs. He glanced around his room, a shabby little space given to him only when Uncle Vernon felt that moving Harry would stop some mysterious letters from coming so long ago. Rubbing his forehead, Harry made his way towards Hedwig's cage, where the snowy white owl was sleeping, with its head tucked under one wing. Not wanting to disturb her, he slip some of his bread in between the bars of the cage, then ate the rest himself. He looked out of the window to see the sun rising over the horizon. Brilliant colors of gold, orange, red, and violet melted together in this beautiful landscape, as Harry sighed and lifted up a loose floorboard underneath his bed.
He knelt down to pick up the last of his homework, an assignment for the History of Magic, taught by the monotone Professor Binns. Binns had assigned the class to do an essay on other kinds of magical people in history. It had to be at least 5 feet long. Harry was nearly finished with his, and had already covered leprechauns and their history in Ireland, genies living in magic lamps in the early Middle East, witch doctors from Africa, and dragons from the Far East. All he had left to do was a couple of inches on the most recent magic people, although the least credible: the psychics from America. He dipped his quill into an inkwell and scribbled furiously, and finished as the sun started to shine brightly from the sky. Harry added a last period, and smiled at his work, until he noticed that these last few lines that he had written were disappearing. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he realized that he had been writing with some joke ink that was formulated to disappear, sent to him compliments of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a shop that he had funded himself. No problem, Harry thought to himself. It was only the last paragraph. So, he got out the real ink, and rewrote what he could remember, then rolled up the parchment and tucked it back underneath the floorboard. Harry got up and walked to the window, stretching his arms.
"Now for the important part," he said to nobody in particular. "I need to fix my social life and survive a possible attack from the most powerful Dark wizard of all time. Piece of cake." It was now daylight, and downstairs, the Dursley family seemed to have finished their breakfast and gone to watch TV. Harry said goodbye to Hedwig, who was now awake and happily eating her bread, and headed downstairs to the living room. There, Dudley was plopped on the couch as usual, watching cartoons, as his parents were busy decorating for the big soiree. Uncle Vernon, who was busy stringing crepe paper across the room, caught sight of Harry, as he entered.
"See here, young man!" he said, getting down from the ladder. "You are not going to ruin my perfect son's fifteenth birthday, you hear me? That means no talking about anything of your world, or your school, or you'll never see the light of day again!" Dudley delighted in seeing Uncle Vernon rip Harry to shreds, as Harry cowered in the large shadow of him.
"Mommy!" Dudley cried out fakingly. "I don't want him ruining my party! He'll drive all the girls away with his ugliness!"
"Don't worry, Duddy!" she said, swooping down on him like a mother hen to her chick. "Vernon, do something about it!" Aunt Petunia tried to wrap her thin arms around Dudley to console him, but couldn't get the halfway around his body.
Uncle Vernon glowed with anger, as if he were already thinking the worst. "You stay away from those girls, Harry! In fact, stay away from the rest of the guests completely! If I catch you conversing with someone..." Uncle Vernon drew his finger across his own throat, making a swift sound. "Get the picture?"
"Yes, sir," said Harry reluctantly. It's not like he had wanted to talk to any of the horrible relatives of the Dursleys, or the bullying friends of Dudley anyhow. Harry just stood in the doorway to the room, as his menacing aunt and uncle finished the decorations. It looked more like a kiddie party to Harry than anything else. Was Dudley turning 5 or 15? Then, his aunt and uncle started getting ready to leave.
"We'll be back, Duddums," said Aunt Petunia, kissing Dudley on his plump cheek.
"Yes, we're just picking up the DJ....it seems that his car has broken down," said Uncle Vernon, casting Harry the evil eye as if he was responsible for the destruction of a car.
"Mom! Don't leave me with HIM!" squealed Dudley pathetically, pointing at Harry.
"Nonsense. You know that he isn't allowed to do....." Uncle Vernon swallowed down hard, but the others knew what he was going to say.
"Okay then. Me and Harry will have a wonderful time!" he said, smiling evilly. His parents departed, and wouldn't return until the party was about to start, leaving 2 hours for Dudley to torture Harry. He chased Harry around the house, but couldn't quite keep up with the fast little Quidditch seeker. Harry could merely walk, without breaking a sweat, and Dudley wouldn't have been able to catch him running. Dudley became all tired out, gave Harry a dirty look, and sat right back down at the couch to watch more TV.
Harry grinned, and sat down in a chair quite far away from Dudley's couch, but just far enough to watch what was on. Suddenly, there appeared on TV a family much worse than that of the Dursleys: the Osbournes. Harry watched in awe as Ozzy Osbourne himself walked around his mansion, swearing and cussing at everything in sight. His teenage kids even swore, along with his wife. Dudley kept stealing threatening glances at the now triumphant Harry, planning what he should do next to torture his little cousin. Now thinking about it, Dudley saw that although Harry was smaller than he was in weight, his "little" cousin was actually taller than he was by at least half a foot.
"When did you grow, scarface?" Dudley asked, tauntingly.
"Oh, during the school year, when I got to eat REAL food," Harry shot back sarcastically. Dudley reddened in the face, then realized that he wouldn't be able to catch Harry in a million years. So, he turned and looked around the fully decorated room, until his eyes caught sight of his presents. He pointed at each one, counting first the ones on top of one table, then the rest that lay under the table.
"25 plus 11," Dudley said, trying to calculate the hard (*cough* dimwit *cough*) equation.
"36. Geez, you're a sharp one," Harry again said sarcastically. Dudley didn't quite process what Harry had said, but instead, whined.
"36?! I have one less present than last year!" he pounded his fists like hammers on the couch. Harry's thought wandered to the recent shipment he had received from the Weasley twins new shop, the same place that had sent him the disappearing ink. Hmm, should I give Dudley some Ton-Tongue toffee again?, he thought. Naah, he said to himself. Let's try and be a good boy this year. Harry glanced at the cuckoo clock, just about to strike12 noon.
"Hey, Dudley? Isn't your party going to start in, say, 30 minutes? You should get dressed," Harry said.
"Sure, Potter. You're probably lying," Dudley said, without even looking at Harry. But then, he too looke up at the clock, and waddled up the stairs to dress up in his room. Harry jumped onto the couch and wanted to change the channel to some cartoons. He came upon an interesting one while flipping through the channels. Harry had by some chance entered the international channel, and a very intersting cartoon about girls in short skirts fighting evil came on. "Moon......prism......power!" yelled one with her blonde hair up in two buns and flowing down to her knees. He saw another, smaller girl with pink hair shoot some little laser hearts at some monster. Harry enjoyed watching this little Japanese cartoon, for the time being. The cartoon had finished a little too soon for his liking when a sudden sound of footsteps came to the door, and the sound of a key going through a lock was heard. Harry switched off the TV, and ran into the kitchen.
From there, he saw the Dursleys reenter with lots of equipment in their arms. What looked like a college student walked in as well. There was a little bit of a banging noise upstairs, and Dudley came rushing down, making a grand entrance. Aunt Petunia clapped, and Uncle Vernon smiled the most gigantic smile Harry had ever seen. Disgusting, Harry thought to himself. The, Aunt Petunia came rushing into the kitchen. She pulled out what seemd to be a seven layer cake from the refrigerator, and placed it on the table that Harry was leaning on. She shot him a look, which Harry understood as being, "Don't touch that cake, or else!"
Harry sat quietly in the kitchen, watching more and more people stream in as 12:30 sounded from the cuckoo clock. He saw many of the relatives come in and then outside to the patio. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon rushed this way and that, welcoming guests, and delivering appetizers all around. Harry then saw a large group of boys come in, no doubt from Smelting, Dudley's school. They took one look at Harry, and laughed hard. Then, a group of girls arrived. They saw Harry, and headed towards him, to the kitchen. Aunt Petunia saw this and shooed Harry out of the kitchen to sit on the staircase.
He stared longingly around the staircase at the party that was raging. Actually, it was very calm, and no one wanted to dance. He heard Aunt Petunia remark that this was the day the Dudley would get his first girlfriend. Wow, Harry thought, I didn't know you could get a girlfriend from throwing the lamest party of the year. Harry continued to watch as a young girl in a short, violet dress walked up to the punch bowl. She was probably some cousin twice removed, for she had dark skin, and black hair strewn with violet highlights. She seemed short in stature, but great in age, perhaps about Harry's age. She poured some punch into her cup, as Dudley was egged on by his cronies to go talk to her. He strode up to her, whispered something in her ear, and immediately received a slap in the face. Harry, trying not to laugh, kept his mouth shut, but that only made him snort. He finally let out all his laughter, which gained the notice of that pretty little girl. She glanced in his direction, and Harry tried desperately to turn back around the staircase, so she wouldn't see him. But it was too late. She had already seen him and was making her way to the staircase.
"May I have this seat?" she asked in an American accent, gesturing to the space beside Harry on the bottom step. Harry nodded. She sat down, took a few sips of her punch, then looked him straight in the eye. Her eyes, strangely, were violet like her hair. "Why aren't you with those other boys?"
"Because, I'm just the dorky cousin of the one who just talked to you. What did he say?" said Harry curiously.
"Well, he used a pick-up line on me. He just walked up, and said, 'Your name should be Campbell's, because you're mmm, mmm, good!' So I just had to slap him. Why do you think you're dorky?"
"Because......I go to a different school, and they like to bully me around for it."
"Which school?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Fine, then why are you sitting by yourself? You know, you are very popular here at this party..." Harry looked at her in disbelief.
"Yeah, right. Me, and my oversized elephant skins."
"Well, I wouldn't say that," the girl said, pointing to the kitchen. There, all the girls were staring at him. When Harry looked at them, they all waved liked idiots and started giggling hysterically. Harry waved back, smiling. "Besides," the girl continued, "where I'm from, baggy pants are all the rage!"
"You're from the States, aren't you?"
"No not technically.....You see, it's complicated. I was born Japanese, and sent to school in California since I was 4 or 5. I only go back to visit Tokyo in the summers."
"Then, what brings you here to Jolly Ol' England?"
"I'm scouting out the place where I'll have to go to school next. For some reason, my parents are sending me to a school here."
"And, what are you doing here?"
"Shhh! I'm not even supposed to be here! I don't know these people!"
"I wish I could say the same," Harry said, reluctantly. They sat for awhile, side by side, until Uncle Vernon spotted the foreign girl. He charged like an angry bull over.
"Uhh.....I gotta go!" she said, heading towards the door. "Nice meeting you.....what was your name again?"
"I haven't mentioned it. It's Harry. Harry Potter," Harry said, wondering if he would ever see this amazing girl again.
"Nice meeting you, Harry Potter," she said with a grin. "I'm Cassie Takachi. I hope we can meet again soon!" With that, she ran out the door and jumped on something. It was a skateboard, and Harry watched in awe as she maneuvered the thing with ease, even if she was wearing high-heeled shoes. Uncle Vernon looked wildly out the door as Cassie zoomed away. He then turned to Harry.
"I told you! NO TALKING WITH THE LADIES!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. He grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck and dragged him upstairs. Harry glanced back sadly, and saw the girls all sigh with disappointment as he was shoved back into his stuffy little room for perhaps the remainder of the summer.