Six Privet Drive

Six Privet Drive

When she finally finished unpacking, Lowri bounded out of the door to examine her new home. So far she hadn't encountered any of the notorious British weather; in fact, the weather had been nicer than it was in her old hometown in New England. And so it was on a beautifully sunny day that she first went outside to examine the other houses on Privet Drive.

Moving to England had been difficult for her family, but her mother's job demanded it. Deep down, Lowri was very excited, having been an anglophile and a self-proclaimed "sucker for a man with an accent" for all of her life. Besides, being almost entirely British (those parts that weren't American) and having a Welsh name, she wanted to absorb as much of the culture as possible. And so she was expecting adventure in England.

As she sprinted out the door, Lowri took a minute to look more closely at the other houses. Most looked the same as hers, number six, which was very respectable if not beautiful or interesting. These houses were bland and pleasant, but nothing to win an architectural award over. Lowri decided to be nosy and examine the other houses more carefully; after all, her neighbors would be the first British people she met, and she was very curious as to how they would like her.

Number eight on Privet Drive had a minivan in the driveway and a basketball hoop on the garage. There were assorted toys scattered all around, mostly those of a young boy. Lowri grinned to herself, thinking about the baby-sitting opportunity. She loved kids. The upstairs, or what she could see of it from her yard, was well-furnished and comfortable-looking. These neighbors seemed they would be quite nice, even if she was judging by their house.

Lowri turned and jogged to the opposite side, where number four stood. In the driveway was a rather large SUV-type car, and in the open garage was what seemed to be a lot of very old toys. There was a racing bicycle that looked almost brand-new except for a deep layer of dust, a slingshot that looked as though it had had considerably more use, and other knick-knacks, most of which were either old or broken. Lowri began to puzzle to herself who could live there when the front door opened and someone walked out.

Actually, someone waddled out. Because this someone was a very blond, very fat boy of about Lowri's age, 16. He was pale and seemed to squint even more in the sun than he had before. He shaded his eyes and saw her.

"What're you looking at?" he sneered. "You're from that family of no-good Americans that moved in, aren't you? My father says we don't need any of you in our country and you should all be made to leave."

"Really," said Lowri, her anger building. She had done absolutely nothing to this boy and here he was insulting her because she was an American. "Pity your father has to do all your thinking for you. Not enough room in that corpulent shell for a brain, is there? That's surprising; I would have thought you could fit at least a small one in your extra stomach."

Immediately she regretted having said this. Provoked or not, it wasn't a good idea to make an enemy on your first day in a foreign country. And perhaps he couldn't help his weight, perhaps he had a disorder of some sort...

The enormous boy had begun to turn red, and pulled out an equally enormous candy bar for consolement. No, thought Lowri, he's just fat.

"If you weren't a girl...how DARE you talk to me like this...I'm telling my mother!"

Oh, so THAT'S the game he's playing, thought Lowri. Fine.

"So what if I'm a girl? I could still whip you with one hand behind my back. Oh--I'm sorry, did you want to call your mother to ask her if you could fight first? Or maybe your dad can tell you if it's a good idea..."
That was it; with that, the boy launched himself from the staircase and started to run (well, waddle faster) at her, swinging his fists. Lowri had no trouble taking him down. She didn't even really need to punch; she just waited until he swung with enough momentum and stepped out of the way, giving a faint push to him on his way down. The boy tumbled and was stuck--apparently he couldn't get up.

Beyond the cursings of the fat boy, still struggling in the grass, Lowri could hear a low chuckling. She looked up in time to catch a glimpse of sudden movement by the curtains of an upstairs bedroom. She couldn't tell what she had seen, but it had looked like another boy with glasses.

Lowri walked back over to the fat heap on the ground and said, "I'll help you get up if you'll apologize about the Americans comment. And then swear that we're even and don't bother me again. Agreed?"

It took awhile, but the boy finally grunted what sounded like, "Fine," so she helped him up. "By the way," she asked, "What's your name?"

"Dudley Dursley," the boy replied, seeming a bit ashamed to give his name to a girl who had defeated him.

"Well, Dudley Dursley, I'm Lowri Smith. Tell your parents you fell helping me with something and that there's no hard feelings." And with that, she walked back into her yard, watching him stumble back inside.

* * *
Lowri wasn't all that happy about her first-day fight, but prudently decided not to mention it to anyone at home. They wouldn't like the fact that she'd already been in a brawl, although that was over-romanticizing it. So she ran up to her new room right after dinner to see what kind of view she had.

The room itself had just been finished, and all of her stuff was where it should be--the fairy sculptures were hanging down, the pictures of selkies and other magical beasts were on the walls, and her costume collection was in the closet. And of course, her gigantic collection of fantasy books was in the bookshelf. She looked at it all, smiling. She loved this escape from the boring, mechanical reality she lived in. She loved to pretend that magic still existed in the world, although she was told time and time again that it didn't exist. Her room was her haven from the real world.

Lowri opened the curtains for the first time. When they had arrived, it had been dark, and she had stayed inside to finish the unpacking. What she saw beyond the curtain was puzzling. She could see a window opposite hers that seemed to have bars, of all things, going across it. But the bars had been broken, seemingly by outside force. Why there were bars on the window in the first place was anyone's guess, but wouldn't you think they'd be bent to the inside if someone was trying to get out?

The window was dark except for the moonlight on the bars. Suddenly, though, a snowy-white bird of some sort flew in from the outside. This startled Lowri; she had had no idea that the animals here were so bold. And then she could see a bit of blue light seem to spring into being, in a small ball. That light barely illuminated the room--she couldn't see what was holding the light, but she could see a wall of the room. It was covered in shelves, and on the shelves were more broken toys, the sort that had been in the garage of that fat boy, what was his name? Dudley. This must be his room, she thought to herself.

But the light swung around, and suddenly she gasped. It wasn't the fat boy holding it, but another boy--the one she had thought she saw in the window, laughing. He was thin, with unruly black hair and glasses. He also had what looked to be a scar on his forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt. Lowri peered to see what he was doing. He was reading, and reading a large, leather-bound book that looked very old. In the weak light Lowri could see a cage with a large bird in it. Aha, she thought, not a wild bird after all.

The boy was muttering something, and waving around what must have been his flashlight. But all of a sudden sparks burst from the end of it! Hastily Lowri dropped the curtain, then picked it back up. His flashlight must have exploded! She needed to see if he was all right. But when she looked again, there was no one in the room, or at least all was black. She let the curtain fall, thinking hard.

* * *
In the next few weeks, Lowri got to know her settings better, but still had no information about the mysterious boy. Her parents had gone to the Dursley's with brownies to attempt to make friends, but had been forestalled at the door and she hadn't been able to get a good look inside before Mrs. Dursley insisted they eat outside, picnic-style. Her husband and Dudley joined them, Dudley glaring balefully at Lowri before digging in, but no one else. When she asked if anyone else would like to join them, Mrs. Dursley fidgeted and said, rather too loud, that there was no one else who could.

In all her looking, Lowri didn't see the boy leave the house, either. Dudley did, often, to go join his nasty-looking friends, but he was the only one. And she wasn't close enough to the other neighbors to ask if the Dursleys were hiding a boy. So she resolved to keep her eye out.

Several times at night Lowri saw the boy again, always immersed in study. The owl (for that was what it was) would swoop in and he'd turn on his strange blue flashlight, never the room's lights, and begin to read a book or a letter. Sometimes she was sure that the owl was bringing him things, although whether they were the ordinary dead mice owls usually brought or something else, she couldn't tell. It was only at night that she saw him, however.

After several weeks of this, Lowri was dying of curiosity. In her own mind she had already imagined that he was a ghost, a boy who died young and was forced to forever haunt his former home. That would be why the Dursleys didn't like to mention him. And maybe his scar was from whatever had killed him. That explained the ghostly blue light, also, and the owl and the disappearing. Lowri was determined to see if her theory was true. So she did something a bit rash.

Well, maybe it wasn't so much "rash" as...different. Lowri was sure that the boy, or spirit or whatever he was, had seen the numerous "picnics" on the front lawn that her family and the Dursley's had had. She had noticed, too, that Mr. Dursley looked with a malevolent smile to the upstairs while eating during those times. So she decided to give him some of the food the rest of the family had been enjoying.

The rash part was how she managed to get the food up there in the first place. She had to get it on the windowsill; otherwise it would be taken by another family member. So she designed a plan.

She couldn't just throw a plate of food over, obviously, because the plate would break or the food would fall off or she'd miss. And she couldn't just get a ladder and put it up against the Dursley's house, because they'd notice in a second. So she resolved to do something a bit risky--she took a wide, long piece of wood from her father's workshop in the garage (he was determined to add on to it, but wasn't getting very far). Carefully, once it was dark enough that people probably wouldn't notice it, she slid the plank out to the other windowsill. It was further than she had expected, and the board just barely fit. She took a deep breath, tried not to look down, took up her plate, and crawled out onto the board.

It seemed to take forever for Lowri to inch her way across the board, feeling unsteady and stupid. As soon as she could reach, she slid the plate through the window just enough so that it was off the board. She scrambled back inside and pulled the board back, then turned off the lights in her room and waited, looking through the curtain.

She had included a note on the plate of brownies she baked herself that afternoon, that said the following:

Hi. I've noticed you in here lately and thought you might be a bit hungry, seeing as you never get to come eat outside when my family invites yours out. At least, I assume it's your family. Who are you? Why don't you ever come outside? Why don't the Dursley's even admit you exist? It's ok if your situation's a bit...odd...I want to know. You don't have to write back, but if you want to, just send a note to the window across from you somehow. Sorry to be bothering you like this, I know I'm nosy.
--Lowri Smith, your American neighbor.

She knew it sounded cheesy, but she had blanked out when writing it. She couldn't really come out and say, "Are you a ghost? Or are you being abused?", and she knew that no matter what she wrote, it would sound nosy. She was a nosy person, she couldn't help it. And so she waited excitedly to see what would happen.

Some time passed without anything occurring. The room stayed empty. Suddenly, the door creaked open and a figure padded in. She held her breath. But the figure sat on the bed and didn't look over at the windowsill. She had had enough and was about to make some noise so he would look out the window when the owl swooped in. The boy looked up, and in looking saw the strange shape on the windowsill. He slowly moved toward it. He looked down at the food, and as the moonlight illuminated his face Lowri could see his brow furrow in confusion. The glint of something white appeared in his hand--he had the note! He tore it open and began to read.

He read in silence for a moment, then stuck his head out the window and furiously looked around, except he wasn't just looking at her window. He seemed to be looking to either side, also, as if someone had flown in and played a joke on him. Lowri dropped her curtain so he wouldn't see her. She could see dimly through the curtain that he had begun to eat the brownies, and then seemed to be scratching out a note with, of all things, a quill pen. He took the note into his room further and disappeared into shadow.

Lowri grinned. He had gotten her note, and had eaten the cookies. Surely he was writing back to her! All she could do was wait.

* * *
The next morning, her note was back on her windowsill, along with an large white feather. Disappointed, Lowri turned the note over, to find that he had indeed written back to her! She quickly read the words inscribed in ink:

How did you find out about me? My name's Harry, Harry Potter. I'm the Dursley's nephew. They don't like me much, so I stay inside, out of the way, during the summer. Are you that girl that Dudley tried to fight? That was smashing. He deserved more than what he got. What have you seen me doing? Uncle Vernon will have a fit if he hears that you've seen me...well, thanks for the food. I've got to go.

--Harry Potter, your reclusive neighbor.

Lowri was so excited she could barely stand still, although she was a bit disappointed that he was a flesh-and-blood boy and not a ghost. But a hidden nephew was exciting too. She wondered how he came to live with the Dursleys, and why they disliked him so. She resolved to find out, one way or another. And what did he mean, what had she seen him doing? Just studying; he must think she'd seen him undressing or something. No matter, she'd write back and reassure him. Perhaps they could be secret pen pals, as corny as it sounded. She simply HAD to find out the secret of this mysterious boy, Harry Potter.

* * *
Their correspondance continued over the next week. Lowri would crawl a message to his window, and Harry would receive it and somehow send another one to her by morning. In this way, Lowri discovered that Harry was 16, was an orphan (being the reason why he lived with his aunt and uncle), and went to a private school in the north of Britain. He wouldn't go into much detail about his school, only that it was a good place and felt more like home to him than Privet Drive did. Lowri in turn told him about moving from New England and about her impressions on Britain and her hopes and fears about starting school.

Harry always wrote to her in fountain ink, and when he wrote notes that weren't on the back of hers, they were on old, crinkly paper, parchment almost. Lowri teasingly asked him if he was really that old-fashioned, to which he replied that that's how his school did things and he liked to keep in the habit. Lowri still didn't see him outside ever, but every so often she would catch a glimpse of him watching her in the yard. The secrecy and fun of it all made her shiver.
At the end of the week, on Saturday night, Lowri decided to bake for Harry again. She couldn't help noticing that he was very skinny and could probably use more food. He had told her that the Dursleys fed him well enough, but it couldn't hurt to give him some desserts to eat if he got hungry at night. She baked some chocolate cookies, then headed up to her room to get the board out.

Because she was so excited about giving Harry food again, and having become rather fool-hardy and confident about crossing the board, Lowri gave little thought to balancing herself or to keeping too low. She crawled quickly across the board, humming to herself. But as she got halfway across, she heard a yell. Startled, she glanced up just in time to see a very wide-eyed Harry looking down at her, and the suddenness of it all caused her to lose her balance. Before she knew it, she was falling.

It was a twenty-foot drop to the ground, which had caused her to be more careful in the past. As she fell, however, she heard Harry's voice above her shout, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and saw a flash of light. Suddenly, she slowed down, and then stopped falling altogether. She began to rise, up, up, over the windowsill and into Harry's bedroom. The plate of cookies continued its descent, and a small crash could be heard as the plate hit the ground.

Wide-eyed, Lowri stared up at Harry. "What..." she stammered, "What just happened?"

Harry lowered his eyes and tried to hide whatever was in his hand behind his back, but not before Lowri saw that it was a piece of wood, shaped so it just might be able to be considered a magic wand. She gazed around the room, and saw the titles of the books around. Hogwarts: A History, A History of Magic, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and The Standard Book of Spells were some of these lying about, along with many others, all having to do with magic. But these books didn't look like her fantasy books--they looked like practical, how-to books, or even textbooks. Lowri wonderingly turned back to Harry.

"You--" she said, "You know how to do magic?"

Harry looked down, trying not to give anything away. "No, of course not, " he replied quickly. "These are just...just pretend books, for fun. Just make-believe."

Lowri wouldn't be fooled that easily. "You're lying," she said softly. "You just saved my life using magic. That thing behind your back is a magic wand, isn't it, and that's what I thought was your blue flashlight--and that owl's your familiar, and...and..."

"Fine!" he said, rather louder than either had expected. "Fine, you've caught me out. I'll--I'll tell you all you want to know."
* * *
Harry explained everything--his scar, finding out he was a wizard, Hogwarts, and what a Muggle was. He told her about the magic lamp that the Dursleys couldn't see out the door, which was the blue light she had seen. Lowri was fascinated. She had never imagined that a world with magic in it could still exist. She pressed for details, but by the time Harry had even just finished with the basics, it was late.

"Well," said Lowri at last, "I'd better get back. But I want to hear more! Can I come back, maybe tomorrow night or something, to hear about the wizarding world?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "No, you can't," he explained. "I'm going to be in huge trouble already for letting you find out about me. No, I'm sorry, but I think I have to erase your memory of tonight." He raised his wand and began to chant.

"NO!" shouted Lowri, breaking his concentration. "No, please, don't! I won't tell anyone! I swear! Besides...I just want to know more about the wizarding world. I've...I've dreamed that such a thing might exist ever since I was little. Will you at least let me learn more, and be happy for awhile, before erasing my memory? You could do it at the end of the summer, or something. Please...I've got to know more..."
Her look was so pleading that Harry couldn't just crush her dreams then and there. He sighed again. "Fine," he said. "But not a word to ANYONE about it. And at the end of the summer...I HAVE to erase it, you see, or else others would find out, somehow, and want magical solutions to their problems, and bug the wizarding world to no end."

"Ok," agreed Lowri quickly. "Until the end of the summer."

* * *
It being late July, there was only about a month left to the summer. Lowri did her best to make the most of it. During the day, she explored the neighborhood, played with the little children next door, and read up on her magical history. At night, she ventured over to Harry's room to learn about wizards. It was the most exciting thing she'd ever done. Not only was she learning about a real, live world filled with real magic, but there was also the element of mystery and sneaking around. She grinned to think how her parents would react if they knew she was sneaking into some boy's room at night.

Harry was an excellent teacher, and very open to showing her things about the magical world, but he wouldn't do anymore spells for her. He said that he had already gotten in trouble with his school for using magic over the summer as it was, and anymore could get him expelled. Lowri was fine with that. She was just as impressed by reading the spells and hearing what they did as she would have been to see them performed.

As she grew to know Harry better, Lowri was more and more upset that he was forced to stay inside all the time. Even if his own family disliked him, they had no reason to keep him cooped up all summer. On one particularly nice day, she made up her mind and strode quickly to the Dursley's door.

She rang the doorbell and set her face into what she thought was a "strong" expression. Dudley opened the door.

"Dudley," she said quickly, before she lost her nerve, " I--I want to speak to your parents. It's about Har--your cousin, the boy in the bedroom across from me."

Dudley went white. "He hasn't been bothering you, has he? We can keep the window shut--"

She shook her head. "No, that's just it. It's barbaric to keep a grown boy so cooped up. He should be free to come outside if he wishes. The rest of the neighborhood knows he exists, don't they? What harm could there be in letting him come outside? He'd just be out from under foot."

Dudley still looked scared, and didn't say anything. Suddenly he ran inside. "MUMMY!" he yelled, "That girl from next door--she--she knows about--"

He was cut off by Petunia Dursley, who sprinted to the front door. "What's this," she said, stopping quickly and trying to look nonchalant, "About...someone in our house?"

Lowri was exasperated. "Your nephew, the boy who's bedroom is right across from mine. I want to know if he can come outside and 'play' . It's unfair of you to keep him in there, and if you don't let him out I shall have to call the police."

Petunia went from white to green. "You--you wouldn't dare!" she gasped. "He's a menace, we're just helping society by keeping him in. He causes all sorts of trouble. He's troubled, you know, very...different."
Lowri was angry now, and her teeth were gritted. "He's not 'different' or 'troubled', and you know it. Now let him come outside or else." She knew it was melodramatic, but hopefully the look on her face would convince Petunia that she was serious.

Apparently it did. Without turning or regaining color, Petunia shouted, "Harry! Get down here this instant!"

Harry came bounding down the stairs, looking confused. When he saw Lowri at the door, his confusion turned to astonishment and he grinned.

Stilll without looking at him, Petunia said, "This girl has requested that you join her outside. You are to go with her and never leave her side. If you get in trouble you shall both be held accountable. And for heaven's sake, try not to let the neighbors see!"

With that, she pushed him out the door and slammed it behind them. Harry only stared at the closed door, then at Lowri. All he could do was smile amazedly and say, "How on earth...?"

* * *

From then on, Harry was allowed to come outside for periods of the day. When they were outside, they acted like normal teenagers, going to the convenience store, exploring the town, and just "hanging out". But at night, their former ritual continued. Lowri learned more about the magical world in two weeks than she had thought possible.

During one late-night session, when Lowri had learned a great deal already about Hogwarts, she asked Harry eagerly, "What can I do to learn how to be a witch? How do I get into Hogwarts?"

Harry looked at her, startled. "You can't just...learn," he said softly. "It's a talent. You're born with it."

Lowri's brow furrowed. "Oh," she said. "Well, how do I find out if I have the talent?"

Harry looked away. "It shows itself, by age eleven. And then you get accepted into wizarding school."

Lowri was confused. "Shows itself?" she asked. "Like...like wanting to learn about magic and liking fantasy? Maybe I do have it! I was in America, they wouldn't have reached me--"

"No," Harry said flatly. "When you're a witch or a wizard and untrained, things happen when you're angry and sad. Things you can't explain away by logic. I'm afraid...I'm afraid that you would already know."

Lowri looked down, her face cloudy. "Oh," she managed to get out. She tried to hide her disappointment.

There was an awkward pause, and then Lowri got a grip and smiled a bit. "Well," she said, "All the more reason to find out about it while I can." And so the lesson continued.

* * *

With only a week and a half left to the summer, Harry received an owl from his best friend, Ron. He was invited, as usual, to go to the Burrow and spend the remainder of the summer there.
It was something Harry had been looking forward to, but he hadn't expected the look of disappointment on Lowri's face when he told her the news. She tried to be happy for him, she really did, but all she could think about was, "This is it. He'll have to erase my memory and I'll never know that he or the magical world existed..."

She was equally disappointed about both parts. Lowri had gotten to know Harry well, and had found that he was funny, brave, kind, and smart. She enjoyed spending time with him, even if it was just sitting around talking about nothing in particular. He was her first and only real friend in Britain, and when he left she'd be alone again. Well, except for Dudley...no, she'd be alone.

She looked up at Harry with a weak smile after he told her the news. Timidly she asked, "Uh, Harry? Is there any way for the Memory Charm to..to just block out certain times? Will I..will I have to forget you even existed?"

Harry blinked. It seemed he had forgotten about the Memory Charm. "Oh," he said softly. "The Memory Charm. I'm--I'm not quite sure how it will work. I might be able to get it to only affect the part of your memory dealing with magic...but I'm not sure..." his brow furrowed.

Lowri looked down sadly. "No, don't--don't bother. Just...get it over with fast, can you? If I think about it much longer...I mean..." she trailed off, choking up a bit, and thoroughly upset with herself for it. She had known all along that the knowledge she gained was going to be lost...just not quite this soon. She shut her eyes quickly and thought, I will NOT cry, no matter what.

Harry studied her with pain on his face. "It's the only way, Lowri. If Muggles knew about us--"

"But I've kept the secret all summer!" she burst out. "And if I told anyone, they wouldn't believe me! I'm a sixteen year old girl with her head in the clouds and her nose always in a fantasy book. They'd think I was daydreaming or crazy."

Harry's eyes were pained as well. "Maybe--"

He was cut off by an owl swooping in the window. A strange-looking owl, not Hedwig. It carried in its beak a letter with the seal of Hogwarts on it. Harry jumped up and snatched the letter. He ripped it open and began to read, letting Lowri read over his shoulder:

Dear Mr. Potter,
It has come to our attention at Hogwarts school that you have informed a Muggle about the wizarding world who is not part of your family. As you know, this is very serious and could get you removed from Hogwarts. However, upon reviewing the particular subject and assessing what you know as a wizard, we have concluded that a Memory Charm would be dangerous and would violate the no-magic policy for the holidays. Therefore, you are thus forbidden to remove this girl's memory and must instead swear her to secrecy invoking the enclosed spell, which, because you have not cast yourself, will be within school rules.

Respectfully yours,
Albus Dumbledore.

PS-In these troubling times, we can use all the allies we can get.

Harry looked up at Lowri and grinned. "Good old Dumbledore. I've done Memory Charms before, they're no sweat. He must have decided he likes you."
Lowri looked at him, unbelieving. A note from the headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, saying she could know about the wizarding world? It was too good to be true!

"Only one thing to do," said Harry, still smiling. He took out of a small pouch on the owl's leg a scroll of parchment and unrolled it. Inside was a very official-looking contract that stated, basically, that she was free to talk about the wizarding world to wizards and those who already knew about it, but to no one else, and that this spell would ensure it. Lowri signed her name at the bottom and Harry tapped the signature with his wand. A bright blue light surrounded her, and then disappeared into her, through her mouth.

"How do you feel?" Harry grinned.

"Heavier," Lowri grinned back. "But in a good way."
* * *

Lowri sat in her bedroom, looking out the mirror. Harry had wanted her to stay with him until he left, so he could introduce her to his friends who were coming to get him. But she had opted out. She was still excited about being allowed to keep her memory, but it was a bittersweet victory for her. This way, she would always know about the wizarding world, but it would be just out of reach for her. She'd be like a poor child at the window of a toy store, desperately wanting to go in and play but kept out by a layer of glass and the absence of money. She was destined to be a Muggle among wizards, to see others living out her dream but never be able to live it herself. And while she was happy for those who would be able to live in the fantasy world they'd always imagined, the thought of being stuck between two worlds bothered her a bit. She would never quite be accepted into the Muggle world because of her ties to the wizarding one and her head in the clouds, but she would not be able to join the wizarding school because she was a Muggle. It felt like her heart was being squeezed slightly, with no way to take the pressure off.

Then there was Harry. He had promised to write her from school, but it wouldn't be the same. He'd be there, at Hogwarts, the greatest school on earth, writing about all of the exciting things there. And she would be jealous. She tried to tell herself it wouldn't be so, but all the same she knew it would. And what could she offer him? Stories about failing an algebra test, or studying for final exams? Nothing exciting would happen for her, not in the Muggle world.

And there was Harry again. She had to admit to herself that she was falling for him. And he was going away, to his real home and his real friends, for a year. He probably had a million girls in love with him at Hogwarts, and they would be perfect for him. They would be pretty, smart, and most importantly, witches. Connected to the wizarding world, his true world. She had nothing to offer him. Who was she? Just some Muggle girl, not even very pretty, with a too-strong sense of curiosity and not enough common sense. No, it would never do. She would just have to hold back, push the feelings down in the hope that they'd go away.

Lowri looked up. She could see a shape, vaguely reminiscent of an airplane, in the sky. But as it approached more closely, she could see that it was actually a car, of all things, an old Mini Cooper to be exact. It came down in between her window and Harry's, and then hovered. Inside she could see three boys, all redheaded, two who looked similar enough to be twins. They shouted out the window to Harry.

"Hey, Harry!" she heard through the glass. "Dad fixed us up with a new car! The latest model!"

Harry opened his window and swung his baggage into the car, grinning. The other boys helped out. Once all of his things, including Hedwig, were safely stowed inside, he hopped in the back, leaning out to close his bedroom window. The car pulled up, and Lowri quickly opened the window. She had changed her mind-she did want to meet those boys, to at least say goodbye to Harry. But the car had taken off, it was moving too fast. She only caught a glimpse of Harry's face, pressed against the glass, smiling sadly and waving at her. She waved back, desperately, leaning as far out as she could as if to say, Take me with you! But then the car disappeared somehow, and she was left alone to contemplate the life and the boy she could never have.