Stalker

After Harry had cast his 'Ignore' spell, he stalked Owen until the thirteen-year-old headed home. It was incredibly easy to follow the boy, Harry doubted he'd be noticed even without magic... But why make things harder for himself when he didn't need to.

Once he'd located the teens home, he scouted the surrounding area, finding it eerily similar to Privet Drive where his relatives used to live. Everyone was just so... Normal. No place for a freak such as himself.

Regardless, Harry waited until nightfall before sneaking inside the two-story family home. The residents had not locked the backdoor, allowing him to easily slip inside. The interior of the house itself didn't catch his attention at all, so he continued upstairs and onto the second-floor landing. There he found four closed doors, one likely belonging to Owen's parents, the other to Owen himself, leaving one for a guest room and one for the bathroom.

Harry didn't bother checking yet though, instead looking up at where a small string was hanging from the ceiling. He was still too small to reach it, but some use of magic allowed him to pull it and quietly bring down some steps leading to the loft.

He made his way up and looked around the place, noting that everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, likely meaning that no one had been up here in months, or maybe even years. He wasn't worried about the potentially harmful insolation covering every surface, as if lead-laden water wouldn't kill him, this likely wouldn't either.

The place was roomy enough for him to stand up straight and walk around, though it was still somewhat claustrophobic. Harry could make due for now though, he didn't intend to stay here forever.

His intention was to simply live here until he found a ritual suitable for Owen, and perhaps his parents if Harry felt like it. After he was comfortably sitting down and had some time to himself, he did mull over whether or not he was actually ok with his future plans...

However, the longer he thought about it, the less he found that he cared... Why should he care about other people? The only person that actually mattered was himself, so if he could use someone to gain further power and knowledge, so be it.

A few days later :

Owen Marchfield finds himself unable to get to sleep... Lately, he'd been getting an ominous feeling at random. The times he felt it didn't have anything to do with one another, but there was one thing he was sure of... It all had something to do with that kid.

Lately, things had started going missing... Nothing huge, just food in the kitchen, some of his toys, some of his parent's things... Though, he still had no idea where his Gameboy had gone. He'd somehow even lost his games; The Legends of Zelda, Street Fighter 2, and Pokemon.

That wasn't the worst thing though, it was the fact that his parents seemed to think it was all his doing. They were also losing things, his father lost a watch, and his mother lost a single earring...

So, to get away from their disapproving looks, he'd begun to spend more time outside. Alleviating his frustration by bullying the neighbouring kids...

*Creaaaaak*

His tucks himself further under his bed covers as a sound comes from the ceiling... It'd been happening more often now, and it was beginning to freak him out... He continued to hide under his covers, doing his best to ignore the weird sounds before falling asleep.

Up in the loft, Harry was having a blast. He'd 'borrowed' many things for the residents downstairs, but the best thing yet was this Gameboy. When he wasn't practising his magic or observing the family, he was playing the handheld game console.

He remembered Dudley asking his parents to buy him one, but he'd 'unfortunately' perished before that could happen. Harry himself had never had toys of him own before, so he was making up for all the years he'd missed now.

Still, that didn't mean he was getting lazy. In fact, the games he'd played had given him many ideas on how to get stronger. They had many different and interesting concepts in each game, like elemental attacks from Pokemon, or the strange abilities displayed by the characters in Streetfighter... Even after playing Legend of Zelda, he'd begun dreaming about making his own sword and swinging it around like a madman.

Not only that, as he now had a place to 'temporarily' call his own, he'd begun to study school subjects again. It was far too easy to waltz into a library under the Ignore spell had steal what he wanted. And now that he didn't have his relatives stifling his intelligence, he studied as much as he wished.

He currently had books of every kind stashed in the loft, some of which he was using as make-shift desks due to how annoying it was to write on the insulation fluff in the roof. He wasn't forced to steal food anymore either, as the kitchen downstairs was always stocked with food...

As much as Harry disliked to admit it, playing pranks on Owen was the highlight of most days... Using levitating to pants him, causing him to trip, making him punch himself in the face when he was attacking other children... It was all just, so, funny!

Even now, occasionally stepping on a creaky floorboard above Owen's room gave him a jolt of satisfaction. Knowing that the teenager was likely cowering in his bed at it gave him a good chuckle.

Harry frowns as the Gameboy dies in his hands again... He'd found that it'd started slowly breaking, but he didn't know why. He had a few theories, one of which was that technology didn't work around magic well. Something he'd observed many other times.

Once he was on the bus and was secretly practising his levitation, he'd noticed that many peoples phones had suddenly stopped working. It was something to think about further when he had better resources.