Mark Evans gazed out of his window into the streets of Privet Drive. The velvety black hues dotted with shining white light in the nights sky. He had the normal problems of any twelve-year-old living in his neighborhood. Keep out of Dudley Dursley or any of his gang members ways and you don't get hurt. It had been this way for Mark as long as him memory of Privet Drive extended. He'd been unlucky he stuck up for himself once and nearly fainted. Still at least he didn't have to live with him.
He was staring at nothing in particular. His gaze shifted suddenly. He looked across the street and down a few houses to where Dudley lived and shuttered. Someone was climbing out of the window. It couldn't have been Dudley he would have gotten stuck. No. This boy looked agile. He was in his late teens, his hair was black sticking at odd angles, and his eyes an emerald color. He had a grim look on his face nearly haunting. The raven-haired boy hopped of the lower parts of his roof with ease and strolled down the avenue.
Mark observed the boy again and recognized him. He heard the adults speak of him referring to him as, "That Potter Boy" or "Filthy Delinquent." His parents always saying, "If only Harry were more like Dudley." The thoughts made Mark sick. No kid was willing to get on Dudley's bad side. It was trouble enough there being one nasty kid with a gang along Privet Drive. There was something different about Harry, Mark observed. He didn't seem like the rumors described him. He just looked as though something maybe someone haunted his life giving him a burden to bear. As the boy trudged through the streets he saw silent tears stream down his eyes.
Mark looked at him closer and he sighed inwardly. He knew he had to ask what was wrong it was in Mark's nature. He quietly walked towards his door. Shifting his weight he opened it silently and slipped into the nights breeze. He caught sight of the teen and strode towards him. The teen seemed to not notice him. He didn't even look at Mark. Puzzled he decided to just ask him.
"Excuse me. Do you mind me asking you what's wrong," Mark asked the first polite question that came to his head. Next minute he was looking into the teens emerald eyes. He was laughing quietly for a reason Mark didn't know. "You see," the teen quietly said, "when you loose someone dear to you the pain seems to never go away. I have lost more people in my life than seems imaginable. There seems to be more to come, I'm even being hunted down myself." Mark looked at him with a puzzled look upon his face. Harry smiled sadly. "There's things about even my situation I don't understand," Harry said noticing the expression upon his face.
"Do you believe in magic?" the teen said catching Mark off guard. "Yes I do," Mark said almost automatically. He didn't understand why he said it. The words just came from his mouth. "Good we all need hope in life. You know anything is possible," Harry quietly remarked and pulled a package from his pocket. It was a small box with a label saying Puking Pasties. "Can I trust you?" Harry asked. Mark nodded. "There's directions in there. Anytime you're exhausted eat one side and you will feel sick eat the other and your healed. Perfect for faking sick during a test," Harry continued, "If you tell a soul not only will you get in trouble I will as well." Harry said with a smile.
Mark took the box with a silent thank you. Harry left him in a wondrous state. He heard him turn a corner muttering something along the lines of, "It's amazing how happy an innocent muggle boy can make you feel." Mark then heard a distinct popping noise. Then all was quiet. He looked at the box thinking about his science exam the next day. He had a distinct grin on his face when he headed for home.