The Exchange Student

"Harry!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. "Vacuum the den!" Harry groaned and reluctantly walked downstairs. His chunky cousin sat on the maroon couch, his pink face smiling as his now seven chins swiveled. Harry grabbed the vacuum and began cleaning the den. After many moments of Dudley trying to kick the vacuum, or Harry at that matter, the skinny boy walked outside and sat under the large Sycamore tree in the backyard. He saw a big moving truck, and a small Civic behind it. The Civic stopped, and four people walked out. One, who Harry assumed was the father, had light brown hair and amazed blue eyes. He was quite thin, and a little stiff. His face set in a tight smile. The woman, who seemed a little bit shorter than the man, had short, dark blond hair, big green eyes, and a chubby body. A little boy waddled out of the car, his green eyes marveling at the square house. His straw colored blond hair poked out of his head, and his thin body striding quickly into the backyard. Finally, the girl came out. Her shoulder-length dark blond hair had a small wave at the bottom, her blue eyes scowling. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and one of her smooth, long legs were propped against the short fence that divided Harry's lawn and theirs. She stormed into the house, screaming at her father, who didn't notice and marveled at the mailbox.

"The last time I saw a face like this," Harry thought. "Was Mr. Weasley's when he began explaining about his battery and plug collection. He smiled at the thought of the Weasley clan. "Maybe they're wizards." He lay back down, staring up at the sun. His heavy eyelids sagged, and dropped over his eyes.

"Daddy!" shrieked a tight voice. "I think he's dead!" Harry heard rapid footsteps approaching him.

"Tyler, you moron!" a girl exclaimed. "He's sleeping, leave him alone!" Harry opened his eyes and saw the little boy and older girl, watching his every move.

"He's alive!" exclaimed the boy as he hopped over the face, sat down, and stared at Harry.

"Tyler!" the girl groaned and she jumped the fence, grabbing the boy's sleeve. "You are so stinking stupid you-" Her face went red. "Jerk-face!" The boy sniggered, as did Harry, and Tyler ran back to his house.

"Jerk-face?" Harry asked. The girl frowned.

"Father hates it when I curse," she murmured. "Says I should act like a lady should, use appropriate language and such." She smiled.

"And such?" Harry asked again, holding down his forceful laughs.

"I have a really strict dad," she replied. "I'm Holly Thorn, by the way."

"I'm Harry Potter," he grinned. Holly raised an eyebrow, but decided not to ask any questions.

"What an original name," she smiled mysteriously. "Kind of like Bobby, or Jack, or Matt." Harry then cocked his head. "Or Godric, or Albus, or-" She smiled. "Or Harry."

"What an oddball," Harry thought as he simply smiled and began talking. "Where did you come from?"

"America," she replied, Harry slowly realizing her thick accent. "Went To Salem's Witch Insitute."

"Are you going to Hogwarts, or Beaxbatons or Durmstrang?" he asked, trying to keep the question casual.

"Well, my father said that I would do best in Durmstrang," she began. "Mom wants me in Beaxbatons." She let a smile crawl upon her face. "But my spoiled brother has a pen-pal in Hogwarts, so we're going there." Harry grinned.

"Have you gotten sorted yet?" he questioned.

"No but-" Holly was cut off from her father, who strode over to them, scowled at his daughter, and walked away. "I have to go, that's father's "let's go" stare." She waved to him and walked into the house, her father now directing a bunch of movers haul several pieces of red wood furniture.