Never Talk to Strangers

Morning had arrived, and although Harry's cupboard shed little light to help wake him up, he was wide awake. He was keen, as usual, to escape his dark and uninviting cupboard as soon as possible. However, he first had to change into a pair of oversized jeans and a large red T-shirt, which had both been Dudley's at one stage. He was wary of entering the kitchen in his pyjamas because Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon could not stand him eating breakfast with them on.

Despite having to ensure he stayed within the house rules, Harry was feeling happier than he usually did. This was because today was his fifth birthday. He was hoping that perhaps this year, his aunt and uncle might have bought him a birthday cake, one like Dudley had a couple of months ago for his fifth birthday. There would be five candles and a picture of a cartoon. He didn't mind what the cake had on it, as long as he had a birthday cake he would be happy.

The thought of the Dursley's being nice to him, brought Dudley into Harry's mind. Dudley always got everything he wanted because Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon loved him. If they bought Harry a birthday cake then that would mean they loved him too. He knew that he would not get all the things Dudley had had on his birthday, the presents, the food and games. But this was one part of Dudley's birthday that Harry did not mind having at his, he wouldn't have anyone to invite for one thing!

The hope that he would have a good birthday this year soon fell from Harry's face to be replaced with a frown. The memory of the previous night had flooded his mind, and it drove out the chance that he was going to get a birthday cake. He looked down at his arm to see a faint bruising on the underside where the tips of Dudley's fingers had held him tightly. He was wondering whether Dudley had a bigger cut on his finger, he hoped he didn't because this would make Aunt Petunia even worse.

The Dursley's were most probably still angry with him, he thought anxiously. Harry hung his head dismally, but as he did so his head suddenly snapped up and he became alert. It was dawning on him that the Dursley's might have locked the cupboard door again. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked at the door anxiously. He hated being shut in the dark, and if the Dursley's had locked the door he would have to stay here for the whole day! Every instinct was telling him to push the door open, but the thought that it might be locked made Harry not even want to dare to hope that it was unlocked.

Several seconds passed while Harry sat tensed on his mattress. What would he do if it was locked? Would he stay silent or bang on the door to be let out? Gathering his courage, Harry stood up; he took a deep breath while walking the few steps towards the door. Placing his palms on the door, he gave it a strong push making it pop open.

Relief flooded through Harry, he would not be spending his birthday in a cupboard. However, Harry's anxiety was not abated completely; he still had to contend with the Dursley's. Once they realised that he was out of his cupboard they might decide to put him back in it.

Checking that there was no movement coming down the stairs by staring through the banister, Harry tiptoed to the kitchen door. Placing his ear at the key hole, he listened for voices. There were none. Grinning, Harry pushed the door open to reveal the kitchen flooded in sunlight. However, this bright sight was disregarded by Harry as his eyes fell on an unwelcome figure sitting at the kitchen table.

Aunt Petunia had looked up as soon as the kitchen door had swung open. All hopes of a 'Happy Birthday' were forgotten as soon as Harry looked into his aunt's face, she did not look happy to see him. Harry's shoulders slumped into a cowering position, already showing he was going to submit to any punishment she had in mind. Was she going to yell at him?

Yet, Aunt Petunia did not yell at her nephew or push him back into his cupboard. Instead she stood up, leaving her half eaten toast on the table, and walked over to the kitchen door. She turned the key in the lock and then turned round to face Harry. Without a word or giving him eye contact, she grabbed hold of the sleeve of his T-shirt and pulled him towards the door. Sharply pulling the door open, Harry's aunt roughly pushed him onto the garden step and slammed the door in his face.

Harry blinked at the closed door – which was inches from his nose – for several seconds in surprise. He had not expected the silent treatment. Although it did not feel very nice to be ignored, Harry reasoned that at least he was not being shouted at.

Eventually coming to his senses, Harry paid attention to his surroundings for the first time. To an adults eyes they would have seen neatly mown grass and immaculate flower beds, but all that registered for Harry was boredom. In his swift search of the garden Harry's eyes automatically fell on the solitary bench. Feeling that there was nothing better that he could do, Harry walked over to it and sat down. Mulishly, he looked at the ground and at the kitchen window, he swung his legs. Would it be possible to look for one of Dudley's discarded toys and play with it? Would Aunt Petunia be looking out the window? He very much doubted that she would be watching him, he thought pensively looking at the window. She'd be more interested in making Uncle Vernon and Dudley's breakfast, ready for as soon as they woke up.

Coming to a decision, Harry got up; it was his birthday he deserved to play with something. Yet there was still a small worry at the back of Harry's mind saying he was going to get in trouble, but he just wanted to have a good day and he would only play with whatever he found for five minutes, so he decided to ignore his conscience. It was unusual for him to be in such a situation where he could play with one of Dudley's toys without him knowing about it, and he should take the opportunity while it lasted.

Searching carefully, Harry eventually found a discarded football under a hedge, which served to hide the street behind it. Bending down to collect it, Harry found he had to crawl under the hedge as the ball had rolled right to the back. Reappearing, Harry looked down at his prize, he had received a few scratches and had dirtied his hands and clothes, but it had been worth it.

Looking behind him, Harry saw that there was no kitchen window which Aunt Petunia could look out from this side of the house. If she wanted to check up on him she would have to open the garden door and walk round to this side of the house to see what he was doing. He could easily hide the ball in that time. Grinning at his plan, Harry dropped the ball intending to kick it.

'Harry,' called a harsh voice.

Shocked, Harry's eyes widened and his head snapped round. He had heard his name being called from behind the tall hedge. Still stationary, Harry swiftly searched the gaps between branches in the hedge, but he couldn't hear or see anything. Shock was replaced by a frown creasing his delicate features, perhaps he had imagined it. Ignoring the prickly sensation he had felt, Harry began to turn to the ball, but was interrupted by the voice once again which was louder and harsher this time.

'Harry.'

Deciding to search more closely this time, Harry walked over to the tall narrow black gate beside the hedge and cautiously peered out to see if anyone was hiding… there wasn't. He had definitely heard his name that time! Worry suddenly overtook Harry's desire to play with the ball, he should knock on the kitchen door and tell Aunt Petunia that a stranger was watching him. However, before he could do more than turn round, a hand grabbed his shoulder, which jerked him away from where he was attempting to walk, and closer to the black gate.

Staring up above him, Harry was met with a dark cold stare; it was a tall, dark haired man. His shadow fell over Harry. The man was dressed in all black, and his black hair hung around his face so that it was hard for Harry to see the man's expression at first.

'Hello Harry Potter,' said the man in a pleasant voice that sounded forced, he was trying to look welcoming, but made himself look even more cold and unpleasant. The smile was stretched forcefully on his face and looked more like a grimace.

Fear consumed Harry, and he stared up at the man transfixed, he was pale and sickly looking. He did not respond to the strangers greeting. He wasn't meant to talk to strangers, he thought desperately. Glancing around the empty garden for help that was not going to come, Harry was forced to look back at the man. The man's eyes were empty of emotion; Harry's own immediately hit the ground to avoid any eye contact. He did not want to look at the man...he was scary. His eyes instead settled on a silver coat that the stranger was holding.

'It's your birthday isn't it Harry?' said the man, ignoring the fact that the child was obviously scared of him.

Harry stayed stock still, looking back at the man with wide green eyes; he wasn't sure whether he should answer. He wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, he repeated to himself; his teacher had told him that, the best thing he could do was to stay quiet.

'I can grant you a birthday wish if you want Harry. You know why?'

Perhaps if he yelled, Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would come thought Harry desperately, but he was petrified and couldn't move let alone scream. He was breathing shallowly, his small chest moving in and out quickly, all he could manage was to give a sharp shake of his head, while his lips quivered.

The man smirked at his fright. Revealing crooked, yellowed teeth, he stated, 'I'm a wizard!'

Even in his terror, Harry only had to blink several times before he realised that what the man had said, had been what he had heard. A wizard, they didn't actually exist, did they? Despite himself, Harry found that he was staring quizzically at the man who stood towering over him. Harry had only seen wizards in films or books, but he was sure that they were just made up stories, they weren't real were they? Then suddenly it hit him, this was all a game, this was part of his surprise birthday party that Aunt Petunia had booked for him. Wizards came to birthday parties! Thought Harry, relief flooded through him allowing his body to relax. He had been wrong, this man wasn't going to hurt him. But then he looked back up into the man's stiff face, there still wasn't something quite right, the man's eyes were still cold and staring. And he was still grasping his arm painfully.

'You don't believe me right?' sneered the man, bringing Harry back to reality.

Still holding a firm grip on Harry, the man carefully put the silver coat on… he had disappeared. Yet Harry could still feel him holding his shoulder.

'You believe me now?' said a voice.

Amazed, Harry gave a reluctant smile, if this man had really wanted to hurt him then he would have done it straight away, he was a children's entertainer!

However, when Harry's eyes met the man's once more as he removed the cloak, he saw cold dark ones staring back and a rigid face, all the friendliness had gone. Harry felt his smile turn towards a grimace, his heart began to beat rapidly, and he couldn't breathe for the restriction in his chest, every inch of his body was filling with dread. What was going to happen?

'Let me go!' he screamed, finally working up the courage to struggle in attempt to loosen the man's grip on his shoulder, it was starting to go numb. It did not work. Desperately, Harry hit out at the man with his free arm, and tried to kick him through the gaps in the gate.

'So you don't want me to grant your birthday wish then?' said the man in a deadly calm, but menacing voice.

The man was loosing patience, and he tightened his grip on Harry's shoulder making him wince in pain.

Harry stood petrified as the man took out of his cloak a long wooden stick. He muttered a few well chosen words and gave the wand a flick. Harry felt a sudden jerk around his navel as his body was lifted from the ground. Frightened, he reached out towards the man in an attempt to grab onto him, but missed and grabbed a handful of the cloak resting loosely in the stranger's hand, which was pulled away in a fast whirl.

Harry had disappeared completely.

AN: Well Harry's off to Hogwarts...