A black haired child sat calmly on the steps of Number Four, Privet Drive. He was a quiet little boy. His large round glasses drooped over the sides of his face, giving the impression that his eyes were extremely large, when in fact he was quite a small boy. His green eyes were wide and inquisitive, as if perpetually curious.

His name was Harry Potter. He normally didn't go about with the other children. Dudley was the one who was supposed to do that. Aunt Petunia had strictly forbidden him to go anywhere near Dudley.

Of course, Harry would never do anything like that. Whenever Harry got too close to Dudley, he and his other friends would come and yell at him and throw mud at him and things. So instead of trying to play, he just sat and watched them go about their business.

I've watched the children come and go
A late long march into spring

Today they were building sand castles and smashing them down once they were finished. Harry thought it seemed a bit of a waste. They could have made the sand castle all pretty, putting rocks on the doors and playing knights and dragons. But they seemed to be having fun. After all, it didn't matter to Harry. Harry wasn't supposed to interfere.

But then again, Harry had watched other children play (from a distance, of course). They jumped around and smiled and didn't crush things under their hands and feet. They ran and laughed and played and were happy.

I sit and watch those children
Jump in the tall grass
Leap the sprinkler
Walk in the ground
Bicycle clothespin spokes
The sound the smell of swingset hands

He wasn't like those children. He was too skinny, had glasses that were too large for his face, didn't do the things 'normal', as Aunt Petunia said, children did. Dudley was a normal child. But Harry didn't want to be like Dudley. He wanted to be like--like Harry.

Harry clenched his small hands and tried to withdraw into himself. He would be fine alone. He didn't need friends, like Dudley had-right? He would be happy.

I will try to sing a happy song
I'll try and make a happy game to play

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia's screechy voice, like a car squealing along the pavement, always startled Harry. He jumped up and ran inside to see his skinny aunt peering down at him as though he were a very small bug she would like to squash. Harry didn't know how to make her like him.

"Don't go outside. Someone could see you," she spits out, as if Harry is a horribly disfigured boy, who never should have seen the light of day. Harry nods without saying a word. He is, after all, fine with sitting alone. Just like he promised himself.

Harry sat down by the door. The screen door was open, and it let in a wonderful cool breeze that carried the scent of grass and heat. Harry closed his eyes and inhaled the wonderful smell of summer. It was almost like being outside. He leaned his head on the iron mesh that imprisoned him.

It was then that he heard a small mewing. He opened his eyes to see a small, brown kitten peering inquisitively up at him. It looked hungry to Harry. He wondered idly if Aunt Petunia would give him some milk for the kitten. Maybe even let it come inside. Probably not. Aunt Petunia hated animals.

Harry pressed his fingers to the net, his small hand indenting it. The kitten stood up on its hind legs. and began to lick Harry's fingers in a comforting sort of way. Harry attempted to pet it at a rather odd sort of angle. He wanted to see what this new creature was like.

Come play with me I whispered to my new found friend
Tell me what it's like to go outside
I've never been

Harry wished he could be in the hot summer air with the kitten. They could play together, do things like run and jump and make sand castles and they would be best friends. It would be the first time that Harry would have really enjoyed the outdoors. It would be fun.

But of course, Harry would be doomed forever to the stifling, oppressive atmosphere of the Dursley's house. The kitten would wait for a long time, but eventually he would leave Harry to the inevitable chores that just had to be done at the nicest time of day.

Tell me what it's like to just go outside
I've never been
And I never will.

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia yelled again. Harry gasped, and pulled his hands away from the door. The kitten meowed in an annoyed and hurt manner, then bounded off the front step into the begonias of the Dursley's garden. Harry sighed. He seemed to chase everyone away from him.
I'm not supposed to be like this
I'm not supposed to be like this

But he would make it out all right. Harry often imagined that some strange, new family would come and take him away. They would let him go outside and eat treacle tart all day and play with kittens. They would make everything all right.

But it's okay.

"BOY! GET IN THE KITCHEN!" Harry jumped again and sprinted into the sparkling clean kitchen to await Aunt Petunia's orders.

"Go get Dudley," she snapped at him while handling a large frying pan. "Tell him he needs to come in for lunch. And be quick about it." Harry nodded obediently and walked out the door into the street.

He knew exactly where he would have to look for Dudley. They would be at the village park, squishing more innocent sandcastles. The hard thing would be getting Dudley to listen to what he had to say without getting hit or teased. Regretfully, he shuffled his shoes down two blocks of identical houses to the small playground with its brightly colored jungle gyms and slides

He stepped onto the not-quite real woodchips that were scattered on the ground. Dudley was on the swingset, his mob of slightly smaller, sneering boys around him. They appeared to be snorting loudly at a joke that one of them must have told. Harry braced himself and started to walk towards them. He didn't want to get hit by Dudley, like he had so many times before.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a snatch of a figure in a red shirt running past him. He turned, curious, to see a small family of little brown haired kids and two smiling parents. One of the children looked about his age, a girl with hair that flowed messily down on her back. She looked up as Harry was staring at her with icy blue eyes, smiled, and gestured to her brothers.

Hey those kids are looking at me
I told myself
Those kids are looking at me

Harry stood, frozen with shock. No-one could possibly ever want to talk to him, could they? But the small gaggle of children was climbing down from the bars they had been swinging on and started to make their way over to him.

They're laughing and they're running over here
They're laughing and they're running over here

They advanced on Harry in a non-threatening way, but he was still very frightened. "Hello," said one of them.

What do I do?
What can I do?

Harry stood there, appalled, with a look of barely suppressed horror on his face. Wasn't he told not to talk to the neighbors? Wasn't he told the neighbors shouldn't talk to him?

"My name is Emily," said the girl, revealing teeth with brown chocolate stains, but a happy smile nonetheless. "What's your name?"

What should I do?

"Don't talk to them!"

"They know you're a freak!"

"Stay out of the way!"

What do I say?
What can I say?

"My name is Harry," he said sheepishly, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. Just then, he heard the crunch of tennis shoes walking on woodchips, and turned around to see Dudley, a good two inches taller than him, staring at Harry with disbelieving eyes.

"Why are you talking to him?" he asked Emily brutally. "He's nothing but a no good freak, just like his father. Dad said so," Dudley said smugly.

Harry could feel the anger and the sadness welling up inside him. Why does he always do this to ME?, he thought angrily.

"Nobody cares about him, you know," said Dudley again, trying to make Harry feel awful, which he always did. Then came the ultimate insult.

"Isn't that right, boy?" he said, trying his best to sound like Uncle Vernon.

Harry could feel power welling up inside him. He was not going to let Dudley do this to him. No. No. No.

"NO!" Harry yelled; and simultaneously, he saw a green flash of light; Dudley had been thrown back against the post. The children Harry had met were backing away with wide eyes, their parents pushing them towards the car. Dudley and his gang were backing away from him, turning and fleeing towards home; Harry ran from the playground towards Magnolia Crescent; he sat on the small wall and cried.

I said I'm not supposed to be like this
Let's try to find a happy game to play
Let's try to find a happy game to play

After half an hour, the tears had stopped flowing. Harry wiped away the last of them from the corners of his eyes, and sniffled a bit. He would be all right without people who loved him. He would make it through.

I'm not supposed to be like this
But it's okay...okay…

A/N: This is my favorite story that I've written. Ever. Hope you guys like! If you absolutely hated it, review. If you loved it, review. If you didn't really have any feelings about it, REVIEW. Luna