"No fair! I never got an ice cream!" Dudley shouts, stomping his feet in puddles of water as he walks out of the car. His mother, Petunia Dursley, ushers him inside as the rain continued to pour down hard on them.

    "Next time," his father, Vernon Dursley promises, only to see Dudley screaming in response.

After going in themselves, the Dursleys slam the front door, not even bothering to wait for the last person to get out from the car.

He slowly climbs out, closes the door firmly, and eyes the sign that reads 'Number 4, Privet Drive'.

Harry had been living here since he was a baby. Now, he was ten years old, and he resented it. Everyday was the same, nothing interesting nor exciting happens. Not even on his birthday. He doesn't even receive a proper birthday gift. Only a box of tissue paper or a coat hanger. Nothing out of the blue.

The front door of his neighbours open, interrupting his thoughts. A young girl with thick, dark waist-length red hair ran out, holding a cat in her arms. Harry stared at her in surprise. The owner of the house was a lady with grizzle grey fly away hair named Arabella Figg. Harry would occasionally stay at her house while the Dursleys go out to special places with some of Dudley's friends, but he's never seen this girl in his life before.

Perhaps she had felt him staring, she looked up from the cat, which she'd been petting. She smiled and came over to him, which surprisingly made Harry's spirit lift.

"Hi," she greeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and resumed petting the cat. Harry noticed that she had the same green eyes as him. "Would you like to pet him?"

Harry politely declined, himself not being a fan of cats.

"His name is Fuzzy. Aunt Arabella let me have him. She's got a whole lot of them in there," she gestures to Mrs. Figg's house.

"You live with Mrs. Figg?" Harry asks, trying not to sound too curious. "I mean, I've been to her house loads of times, but I don't think I've ever saw you there before."

"Oh, I'm usually out with friends," she responds vaguely, but Harry didn't press for more details. "Say, what's your name?"

"I'm Harry."

"Liliana," she replies, extending her free hand. Harry took it, and they shook hands.

"POTTER!!" an angry and stern voice yells.

Harry jumps and turns around, letting go of Liliana.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dursley," Liliana chirps, resuming Fuzzy's petting.

Mr. Dursley's beady eyes move to Liliana and his face brightens. "'Afternoon, Liliana. I see you've met Harry, here."

"Yes, he's very polite," Liliana answers, combing her hand through her hair.

"Dudley's home, want to come over?" Mr. Dursley asks.

"Oh, sure. Just let me drop Fuzzy off." She runs across the yard and into her house.

"That girl, quite a fan of animals," Mr. Dursley muttered under his breath.

"What?" Harry asks, and Mr. Dursley glared at him.

"Don't ask questions!"

"Okay, I'm back!" Liliana exclaimed, running to join them. "Fuzzy sheds a lot, so I had to wash my hands."

They entered the house, which Harry was sent straight to his 'room', which was a cupboard under the stairs. Mr. Dursley locked the door from the outside. Through the closed and locked door, Harry could hear Dudley's shouts.

"LILIANA!!!"

"Oof! Hi, Dudley."

"I'm going to the zoo for my eleventh birthday, want to come?"

There was a pause, as if Liliana was thinking. Personally, Harry hoped she would say yes too, so he could get to know her better. But then again, he might not be allowed to go with them. They'll probably just leave him at Mrs. Figg's again, like usual.

"Sure, I'll come. Thanks for-oof!"

Harry guessed that Dudley had attacked Liliana into a hug.

Honestly, Harry thought, why would anyone like Liliana be friends with Dudley?!

Dudley's birthday was the next day, which meant that Harry will see Liliana tomorrow.