Something From the Other Side

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

Harry Potter was feeling miserable. No, scratch that, he was feeling a total wreck, actually. The embarrassment he felt for fainting because of the dementor was nothing compared to the utter sadness which had overcome him since that terrible event the previous night.

It was his mother. Harry was sure of it now, that scream belonged to the woman who had given her own life to save him from the maniac that had decided to kill his family for a reason he wasn't even aware of. And it was because of this sick bastard that Harry didn't have his parents with him, and he had to live with his terrible relatives.

Harry rarely let himself get to this point. He knew depression was a descent far too fast. However, he was alone, sitting under a tree near the lake, for he couldn't shake his emotions enough to be able to be around his friends. If he weren't so caught up in his misery, he would have found it amusing that, on a Sunday, September 2nd, there wasn't a living soul outside the castle. Not even the Giant Squid had shown up today, which meant Harry was totally alone.

Not that the scrawny boy cared. After spending basically his whole life alone, he was used to it already. No, today Harry wanted to be left alone, soaked up on the negative roller coaster of feelings we was having: Despair, Sadness, Loneliness, Longing, Bitterness and a hint of Guilt. He was also exhausted.

One may or may not believe it, but Harry had never been one to complain about things, no matter how bad they were. But hey, being forced to listen to your mother screaming right before dying? He was entitled for some brooding, so to say...

So there he was, wearing his school robes, 'enjoying' his Sunday, before the actual beginning of classes the following day. He knew Ron and Hermione were surely looking for him, as he had woken up and had breakfast before them, and, up to now, almost lunchtime, hadn't made any contact with his friends. They would be pissed, but Harry couldn't give a rat's arse. They would complain, saying there's a mental convict roaming free, so it was dangerous, and whatnot.

Hermione and Ron didn't understand it, however, did they? They both had their parents, so they never knew what to say. "Oh, Harry..." Hermione would say, her eyes showing pity, while Ron's support was much more silent, but equally pitiful. What good would their presence bring? Harry was there, but he wasn't at the same time, anyway; His mind was a mess, while he mercilessly pulled the pieces of grass around himself. He could finally see the bottom of the well he spent his whole life ignoring.

That's why he didn't even notice the small boy arriving until said boy cleared his throat.

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes bulging out. His jerky reaction ended up startling the boy so much the poor kid took two steps back.

The boy was short and thin. In fact, almost as thin as Harry, which was saying something. But Harry could immediately notice the little boy, different from him, couldn't be any older than 11. His eyes were light blue and his hair was blond, but a closer shade to brown from the common bleached yellow, almost white, like Malfoy's. He sort of reminded him of a poorer, blonder, blue-eyed version of Colin Creevey. The boy's clothes were hand-me-downs, that much was obvious to Harry, as his own were as well, apart from the school robes he had gotten before his first year. However, the boy wasn't wearing any robes, only muggle clothes.

Almost a full minute had passed and the boy kept staring at Harry with wide eyes and his mouth opened, which only angered Harry, for whatever reason.

"Is there anything I can help you with, or do you have all the intention to keep staring at me?" Harry snapped, with a scowl.

That worked somehow. The little boy closed his mouth and turned his head towards the lake, but not directly to it, actually, but some point over it. He looked right away scared and embarrassed, which was proven by the deep shade of red that started to rise from his neck and just stopped when his whole face was red.

'Great.' Harry thought, sighing, his anger unwavering. 'Now I made a firstie miserable.' Kicking himself, Harry decided to say something else to break that awkward silence.

"You should be wearing your robes, you know?" The haven haired boy said. "If one of our professors catches you, they will tell you off."

The short boy turned back to Harry, curiosity somehow adding up to the apparent fear and shame on his face.

"Yeah, it doesn't matter if it's a Sunday, or if you are a first year, you have to wear robes if you are a student here." Harry said, trying to sound at least a bit nice, even if he didn't know why he was bothering.

"I-I... I am not a s-student." The boy stuttered, his voice but a whisper.

Harry felt something was definitely weird there upon hearing the boy. His voice... his voice was childish. Too childish, even for an eleven year old boy. Analysing the boy a little bit better, the green eyed boy noticed the blond boy was a good foot shorter than him, which was supposed to mean something, as Harry had always been malnourished, which made people say he was shorter and scrawnier than he should be for his age.

"You are not a student?" Harry said, now curious, adjusting himself to sit more upright against the tree's large root.

"Y-you are H-Harry Potter, aren't you?" the boy asked, ignoring Harry's question, his anxiety and fear seeming to intensify somehow.

Harry closed his eyes irritated. 'Oh, this can't be good. First, I faint because of- Now, some boy is going to start all that boy-who-lived nonsense. Great start for a year.' He thought. "Yes, I am". He replied, after opening his eyes with a sigh. "And you are?"

The boy seemed to get even more nervous, turning back towards the same point over the lake, before looking back at Harry. His blue eyes shone like little diamonds, but Harry seemed to notice how distressed the boy really was.

"M-my name is E-Edward." Another glimpse towards the lake. Somehow, Edward seemed to find the strength he needed to say whatever it was he wanted to say, because, when he stared back at Harry, all jitters had left him, and the older boy only saw resolution in them. What he said, though, caught Harry totally unprepared. "My name is Edward. And I have a message from your father, James."

A.N.: This idea kept swimming inside my head, so I decided to give it a try. This is just the beginning, but I hope you guys get to understand a bit of what's going on. The next chapter will be out soon enough, probably by the end of the week or so, and then you'll get to understand it a bit better.

I don't have a beta, so I had to double check it myself. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes I didn't catch. I know it's not an excuse, but English is not my mother tongue, so pay no mind to these mistakes/errors...

And if you feel like it, please, leave a review...