Secrets of the Innocent │03│H a r r y P o t t e r

02. The Boy Who Stopped the Storm

July 1st, 1993. Little Whinging, Surrey.

The local weather station had promised a sunny summer for Little Whinging, highlighting that it would be one of the warmest so far. In response, most of the families simply locked their spring wear, far too used to the heat that visited the little town every year. The Dursleys were not an exception.

Harry Potter remembered this fact the moment he left King's Cross and spotted the rare sight of the sun. Grimacing, he also remembered his private promise of buying clothes for himself, as his cousin Dudley's hand-me-downs surprisingly didn't fit him anymore. And the promise of another batch of Dudley's old clothes disgusted him enough to want to give himself something for once.

He hadn't. His final month at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been so stressful he hadn't even studied for his final exams. Thankfully, in light of the events that transpired over the year, the headmaster cancelled them. In its stead, every student had received a month's worth of homework for each of their subjects and Harry didn't think he could be able to finish everything in time, not when the Dursleys' version of a homecoming was to lock his things in his former cupboard. Aunt Petunia's leniency stopped at him getting his clothes out of his trunk.

Harry was grateful for his jumpers and scarves. On the fourth day upon his return, Little Whinging experienced its first thunderstorm ever recorded. Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had joined the little mob that gathered outside the radio station, dragging Dudley with them. Harry, seeing the opportunity, took a leaf out of Anya's book and tried to pick his cupboard's tiny lock; it took him longer than it had taken her, but he was nonetheless proud. Once his trunk was back in his room, he stole one of Dudley's raincoats and left the house.

Harry thought he would end up drenched like a rat. It was pouring like hell. But the raincoat was so big he had to roll the fabric several times and hug himself so that it didn't flap. He also had to pull up the hood several times, as it often covered his glasses. Fortunately, the streets were empty; he had yet to see a car pass him when he arrived at the town's orphanage.

The distance between him and Anya Barton was ten minutes. On a normal day, it took from twenty-five to thirty minutes to walk all the way from Privet Drive to Magnolia Road, when one had to take many shortcuts through alleys.

Harry arrived in eight minutes. The storm above him was looming dangerously, promising more than rain. He ran so fast he surprised himself; he usually relied on his Nimbus 2000 for that.

St. Louise's Orphanage for Girls looked like something out of Coronation Street. Old-fashioned but carefully maintained to keep up with the times. From what he little remembered, the inside rooms were just as cosy, if not a little detached. With the day's weather, it looked like the perfect setting for a coppers' movie.

He shivered. He had had enough of chases.

Harry hadn't thought what he would do once he arrived; it hadn't occurred to him the gates would be closed. Cursing, he turned on his heel, but a flash of blue and red halted him.

A blurred figure ran towards him, face undistinguishable. It was a girl–all the people in St. Louise's were–certainly more prepared for the storm than Harry. Not only was she wearing a raincoat and rain boots, she was also protected by a blue umbrella. She carried another one, longer and red with gold accents. The coincidence rattled him for a second, making him miss the girl's arrival.

"Oh, thank Merlin it's you," said Marie Harlaown, her blue eyes squinting at him. She pushed the red umbrella through the bars and poked him in the chest. "Help me find Anya."