Harry had never had time to think about a girl, especially now that he was off to probe the minds and spellcrafts made by wizards and witches before him.
It would be now to have a relationship, yes, but with every danger enduring every precaution set against it, it wouldn’t be a foo idea.
This was his slight ideology before he discarded the thought.
It had started before a simple meet—he had been out of Hogwarts for the summer, and he was starting his seventh year there shortly after.
His uncle and aunt shrieked and cried that he was forbidden from any magic in the walls of their stout house, which only put more of a damper on Harry’s moods.
Now, the only thing he could ever do as a mental get away was to check the mail. Harry often recalled finding his first letter from Hogwarts in the shallowest bits of his memory.
“Hi, neighbor!”
Harry turned his head to the voice, the bits of his unkept hair (it never could brush out no matter how much he and Aunt Petunia tried) swishing across his lightening bolt scar.
His eyebrows arched in surprise, seeing a new face. Who would willingly come to Privet Drive, seeing as the families around seem to skitter away by the shrieks of his aunt, the hollers of his uncle, and the wallows of Dudley?
“We haven’t seen you around here at all! We’ve tried to head over and invite your family to dinner, yet it seems they don’t respond all too well.”
Harry shook his head silently. They wouldn’t respond well to a dinner at all, especially seeing how eccentric this woman was.
“Well, no matter! Could you just ask if we could come over?”
Not a good idea.
Despite his best efforts, Harry trudged back into the house, sliding the fresh mail into Uncle Vernon’s meaty hands.
“Er—Uncle Vernon,” Harry muttered, standing beside the man’s squished armchair as the man’s beady eyes turned to look towards him. “There’s a woman outside who said they wanted to come over for dinner.”
Before his uncle could spout his usual nonsense, his aunt piped up with glee.
“Oh, Vernon! They have a girl about Dudley-kins age, don’t they? This could be a good idea for them to get together,” said she, yet Vernon only scoffed in response as she trotted over to Dudley and pinched his cheeks. “Such a handsome man, I’m sure she’ll love you.”
“You! Go comb your hair, it looks like a rat scuffed around in there!” She turned and barked to Harry, who only sighed and trotted upstairs.
This was the most silent dinner he’s ever had, considering that his ‘family’ would always take the chance to berate him on every instance. Yet, it seemed they were saving face around the new neighbors, because even Aunt Petunia didn’t crane her long neck to scuffle around in their business.
“So, it seems you have two lovely boys,” the man spoke, eyeing Vernon as he scoffed loudly.
“Oh, no. One of them is mine, the other is a little bugger that was passed onto us by a family member.” Vernon chortled, his weight shaking around. The man only sweated in response, giving his wife a side-eye.
“…right. Well, this is my daughter, {{user}},” the woman chuckled, clasping her hands together in a nervous gesture before she gestured to you—sitting there at the end of the table.