The Boy Who Lived Next Door
The Gift
September 2nd, 1991
Dear Journal,
I don't want to start this off like any other journal, blandly telling you random things about my life. This journal is special. It's from Harry.
Harry Potter. He's the boy who lives next door to me. He lives with his aunt and uncle. They're horrid people. Not Harry though. He's nice. I mean his aunt and uncle, not to mention Dudley. EW! I don't like him very much.
Harry lives with his aunt and uncle because his mum and dad were killed in a car crash. He told me he doesn't remember it much, except for seeing a green flash. I feel bad for Harry, not just because he lost his parents but because he has to live with the Dursleys. They aren't very nice to him, especially Dudley. I always see Dudley and his friends chasing Harry around and beating him up. Harry doesn't usually tell anyone about it, but he's smart. He knows how to hide from Dudley and his friends. But it helps that Dudley and his friends are very stupid.
Harry's my age, but just a few months older. He's my only friend on Privet Drive. I remember the day I met him.
"Isabelle!" My mum called from the driveway. I scrunched up my nose in dislike. "I'm going to the store. Do you want to come with me?"
"No thanks!" I yelled back. I heard her car door slam shut and the sound of her engine as she started it.
"Your father's in his study if you need him." She called as she drove passed where I was lying on the front lawn.
I had been lying on the lawn for quite some time, watching the clouds go by, when I heard a rustling sound. I turned my head to look at my neighbor's front lawn just in time to see a thin, black-haired boy dive underneath a flower bush.
Puzzled I stood up and started to walk over to him, but I stopped short when I heard Dudley's voice.
"Where'd he go?" Dudley asked his friends. Obviously they couldn't see the boy; either that or they were too stupid to notice the boy's black hair standing out vividly against the green of the bush.
To my dismay, Dudley saw me and smiled. Ew. "Isabelle!" I scrunched up my nose again. "Did you see a boy run through here?" He called to me.
"No." I replied, shaking my head. They believed me and ran down the street toward the playground, thinking maybe he was hiding there.
"Thanks." The boy said as he came out from underneath the flower bush. His clothes, obviously too big for him hung limply around him. They looked like they would fit Dudley.
"No problem." I said as I stepped onto his lawn. "I'm Isabelle." I said as I stuck out my hand. "But don't call me that, or I won't talk to you again."
The boy shook my hand. "I'm Harry. Nice to meet you, Elle."
I smiled at him. "Elle…I like it."
He grinned back and pushed his round-rimmed glasses further up on his nose.
"So you're Harry." I said a few minutes later on my front lawn. We were eating popsicles I'd gotten from the fridge. "I heard about you. I always see Dudley and his friends running around talking about beating you up." I sighed. "He's a little bugger."
Harry laughed and I joined in.
I couldn't keep my eyes from straying up to his scar. "I'm sorry about your parents." I said after a moment. The air got suddenly sad and quiet.
"S'okay." He said shaking his head a little bit. His messy black hair moved and covered his scar.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Elle?" He replied. I smiled. I really liked that name.
"Wanna be my friend?" I asked looking into his really green eyes.
He smiled, "Yeah."
And that's all it took to become friends with someone at six years old: popsicles and a question.
Yesterday was my eleventh birthday. I didn't see Harry for awhile. I'd seen Dudley a lot though. So at midnight yesterday, I officially was sad because I thought Harry forgot my birthday. I'd waited until midnight to be sad because my birthday wasn't officially over until then. I figured maybe he would show up magically with his gift, but he didn't.
This morning, I went to get the mail for my mum. But I stepped on a brown package that was on our door step. It was addressed to me. I recognized Harry's handwriting.
I heard a hooting sound and looked up. A white snowy owl was sitting on top of my dad's car. I waved to it before going inside.
I gave my mum the mail and went upstairs to my room. I unwrapped his gift and found this journal.
In the card, he swears he didn't forget my birthday. But he said he got into this boarding school or something that’s special? I dunno. He said he wasn't going to be home until Christmas or maybe the summer.
I'd laughed a bit when I read his card because I could just imagine Harry saying the exact words he wrote. But I'm sad that I'm not gonna see Harry for a few months. It's gonna seem like forever. I'm gonna miss him calling me Elle. But I guess all I can do is wait for Harry to come home so I hang out with him again.
So that's why this journal is special. Because it's from Harry.
- Elle
Dear Journal,
I don't want to start this off like any other journal, blandly telling you random things about my life. This journal is special. It's from Harry.
Harry Potter. He's the boy who lives next door to me. He lives with his aunt and uncle. They're horrid people. Not Harry though. He's nice. I mean his aunt and uncle, not to mention Dudley. EW! I don't like him very much.
Harry lives with his aunt and uncle because his mum and dad were killed in a car crash. He told me he doesn't remember it much, except for seeing a green flash. I feel bad for Harry, not just because he lost his parents but because he has to live with the Dursleys. They aren't very nice to him, especially Dudley. I always see Dudley and his friends chasing Harry around and beating him up. Harry doesn't usually tell anyone about it, but he's smart. He knows how to hide from Dudley and his friends. But it helps that Dudley and his friends are very stupid.
Harry's my age, but just a few months older. He's my only friend on Privet Drive. I remember the day I met him.
"Isabelle!" My mum called from the driveway. I scrunched up my nose in dislike. "I'm going to the store. Do you want to come with me?"
"No thanks!" I yelled back. I heard her car door slam shut and the sound of her engine as she started it.
"Your father's in his study if you need him." She called as she drove passed where I was lying on the front lawn.
I had been lying on the lawn for quite some time, watching the clouds go by, when I heard a rustling sound. I turned my head to look at my neighbor's front lawn just in time to see a thin, black-haired boy dive underneath a flower bush.
Puzzled I stood up and started to walk over to him, but I stopped short when I heard Dudley's voice.
"Where'd he go?" Dudley asked his friends. Obviously they couldn't see the boy; either that or they were too stupid to notice the boy's black hair standing out vividly against the green of the bush.
To my dismay, Dudley saw me and smiled. Ew. "Isabelle!" I scrunched up my nose again. "Did you see a boy run through here?" He called to me.
"No." I replied, shaking my head. They believed me and ran down the street toward the playground, thinking maybe he was hiding there.
"Thanks." The boy said as he came out from underneath the flower bush. His clothes, obviously too big for him hung limply around him. They looked like they would fit Dudley.
"No problem." I said as I stepped onto his lawn. "I'm Isabelle." I said as I stuck out my hand. "But don't call me that, or I won't talk to you again."
The boy shook my hand. "I'm Harry. Nice to meet you, Elle."
I smiled at him. "Elle…I like it."
He grinned back and pushed his round-rimmed glasses further up on his nose.
"So you're Harry." I said a few minutes later on my front lawn. We were eating popsicles I'd gotten from the fridge. "I heard about you. I always see Dudley and his friends running around talking about beating you up." I sighed. "He's a little bugger."
Harry laughed and I joined in.
I couldn't keep my eyes from straying up to his scar. "I'm sorry about your parents." I said after a moment. The air got suddenly sad and quiet.
"S'okay." He said shaking his head a little bit. His messy black hair moved and covered his scar.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, Elle?" He replied. I smiled. I really liked that name.
"Wanna be my friend?" I asked looking into his really green eyes.
He smiled, "Yeah."
And that's all it took to become friends with someone at six years old: popsicles and a question.
Yesterday was my eleventh birthday. I didn't see Harry for awhile. I'd seen Dudley a lot though. So at midnight yesterday, I officially was sad because I thought Harry forgot my birthday. I'd waited until midnight to be sad because my birthday wasn't officially over until then. I figured maybe he would show up magically with his gift, but he didn't.
This morning, I went to get the mail for my mum. But I stepped on a brown package that was on our door step. It was addressed to me. I recognized Harry's handwriting.
I heard a hooting sound and looked up. A white snowy owl was sitting on top of my dad's car. I waved to it before going inside.
I gave my mum the mail and went upstairs to my room. I unwrapped his gift and found this journal.
In the card, he swears he didn't forget my birthday. But he said he got into this boarding school or something that’s special? I dunno. He said he wasn't going to be home until Christmas or maybe the summer.
I'd laughed a bit when I read his card because I could just imagine Harry saying the exact words he wrote. But I'm sad that I'm not gonna see Harry for a few months. It's gonna seem like forever. I'm gonna miss him calling me Elle. But I guess all I can do is wait for Harry to come home so I hang out with him again.
So that's why this journal is special. Because it's from Harry.
- Elle