Bosh: absurd or foolish talk.

June 2, 1987

Harry Potter liked the top of the tallest slide at Riverside Park. First, because it offered an unimpeded view of the entire playground, all the way from the car park on the far end to the trees lining the back fence. Second, because the twisty staircase that led to the top of the slide was too narrow for Dudley and the railings rubbed red marks into his sides whenever he tried to follow Harry up it.

Of course, it wasn't often that Harry got to go to Riverside Park. But Mrs. Figg was off visiting her sister today, so Uncle Vernon had been forced to bring him along. So here he sat at the very top of the tallest slide, bare feet swinging ten feet above the ground in the warm summer breeze (Dudley's three-sizes-too-big old sandals having slipped off ages ago). He leaned his forehead against the metal guard rail and stared down contentedly at the people running about below him.

A girl a little older than him was making a sandcastle almost right under him, using twigs and clovers as flags for the turrets. On the swinging bridge halfway along the playground, Dudley and his friends were jumping up and down wildly, raddling the chains and sending the poor little boy caught between them jerking back and forth.

But what interested Harry most was the tabby cat perched primly on the edge of an empty bench right across from him. It had been there when Harry reached the top of the slide earlier that afternoon and had not moved at all since. Not even when a mother chivying four small children had nearly sent it flying with her enormous handbag. And although it was hard to tell from so far away, Harry rather thought the animal was staring at him.

Because there was nothing really to do stuck up at the top of the slide, Harry stared back. He stopped swinging his legs, trying to be as still as the cat. It was like they were playing the statue game, seeing who would twitch first.

"Boy!"

Harry jumped so much he smacked his head against the railing. He'd been so focused on his imaginary contest with the cat that he hadn't noticed his uncle standing right underneath him, in the middle of what had been the little girl's sand castle (she looked about ready to begin wailing for her mother).

"Get down here. We're going."

Harry heaved a sigh and pulled his legs from between the bars of the guard rail. By the time he'd reached the bottom of the twisty slide, Uncle Vernon was halfway to the car, not bothering to check if Harry was following. He searched the sand for his shoes, but Dudley had probably swiped them like he usually did. Resigned to going barefoot, Harry turned to sprint after his uncle, and that was when he remembered the cat.

It still sat immobile on the bench, watching him with intent eyes. Half-convinced it was a statue after all, Harry took a step toward it, but the moment he moved, the cat sprang off the park bench and slunk away across the grass. Harry watched it all the way across the open field as he trotted to catch up to Uncle Vernon.

At the edge of the park, it slipped through the fence and skittered along the sidewalk. The cat paused at a bus stop, looked up at the sign, and sat stiffly beside it, peering expectantly up the street. Harry watched it curiously, slowing to a jog. Did cats usually act like that?

"Boy!"

His uncle's bellow tore Harry away from the cat. Uncle Vernon was already in the car, drumming his fingers impatiently on the half-open window. Harry put on a burst of speed and hurtled himself into the back seat before he was left to walk home by himself.

As he slammed the door, he looked back toward the cat. The bus had pulled up and people were shuffling off it, but between their legs, Harry thought he saw a small, furry body dart up the steps.

"That cat just took the bus!" Harry exclaimed, torn between laughter and amazement.

"Don't be ridiculous," his uncle snapped from the front seat, concentrating on backing out of the lot.

"But it did!" Harry insisted, watching the bus doors swing shut. "It waited at the bus stop and got on with the people."

"Hogwash. Cats are too stupid to do anything but get run over by busses."

"But –"

"Say one more preposterous thing and I'll stick you on a bus to Timbuktu."

Harry snapped his mouth shut and looked back at the retreating bus. In the back window, curled on the back of a seat, he could just make out a tabby cat that seemed to be looking in his direction.

A/N: Thank you all for reading and REVIEWING :)