As the rays of the sun fell upon the suburban English street of Privet Drive, a small boy could be seen weeding the garden of Number 4. Although the boy looked no older than three or four, he was in fact five years old. He was stick thin and looked extremely malnourished. As he finished weeding and walked back towards the house, his messy black hair was ruffled by the wind and he shivered, his emerald orbs downcast. He quickly ran back into the house and locked the door behind him.

A few hours later….

As the smell of sizzling bacon filled the house, a man, woman and a large child came walking down the stairs. As the large man passed the small boy, he cuffed him on the head.

"Have you weeded the garden yet, boy?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. I did this morning." The small boy replied, his eyes once again downcast as his aunt pushed him aside and took the food he had just cooked.

"You better have, if you know what's good for you!" The large man thundered, sitting down at the breakfast table as his horse-faced wife put out plates and started serving him breakfast.

"Dad! I want that new bike! NOW!" The large boy thundered, practically shaking the house down by jumping up. The effort seemed to tire him because he suddenly collapsed at the table, panting slightly. His mother smiled and piled mounds of bacon and eggs on his plate.

"Of course, Diddykins, we'll go today." His father answered, smiling with his full mouth.

As his aunt finally finished serving the food, she sat down and started eating herself.

Of course, the little boy was once again forgotten.

2 hours later…

"Boy! We're leaving! Stay in the house, don't answer the door or the phone!"

The boy flinched as he tried to get up. His back was hurting him again. As he got out of his cupboard, he went to get some food. He hadn't gotten a chance to eat in several days and he was extremely hungry. He took out some bread, cheese and ham slices and made himself a sandwich. He got a glass of water and took a bag of crisps from Dudley's cupboard.

'He'll never notice anyway' was the boy's thought. As he opened his bag of crisps and sat down, he realised that crumbs might fall on the carpet and then his relatives might know. Since he did not want to be hit again, he grabbed his hidden sketchbook (he had found it in the Dursley's attic), quietly opened the back door and slipped out of the house. He calmly walked to the old park, eating his sandwich. The Dursleys wouldn't be back for another few hours anyway.

As he reached the old beat down park, he noticed a little girl with bushy brown hair sitting by the old weeping willow tree in the park. He curiously walked over to the tree and looked down at her.

"Hello." He said simply, sitting down beside her.

"Hello." She replied, smiling at him slightly and going back to her book.

He simply shrugged to himself, glad for the silence. He wasn't much for talk anyway. He quietly finished his sandwich and opened his bag of crisps.

He quietly offered the girl some. When she didn't notice him, he nudged her slightly with his elbow.

"What? Oh, thanks." She simply took a few and smiled at him once again. They finished the bag in companionable silence.

After they were done with the crisps, the boy got up and threw the bag away. As he came back and sat beside the girl once again, he took out his sketchbook. He suddenly realised he had forgotten his pencil.

He nudged the girl once again and she turned around, looking at him questioningly.

"Do you have a pencil?" He asked, smiling at her.

"Yes." She turned around and dug through the bag beside her. She came up with a shiny purple pencil and handed it to him.

"Thanks." The boy once again turned back to his sketch.

An hour passed in the same way and finally, Harry noticed the position of the sun and got up, silently handing the girl her pencil back.

As he turned around to leave, the girl yelled out to him.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Harry Potter. What's yours?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Bye, Hermione. Thanks for the pencil"

"Bye Harry. Thanks for the crisps."