Fresh, clean, the breeze mottled with a pleasant dampness as it relieved the heat of the bright sun and clear sky. It blew his hair into an even messier state than before, the salt spray sticking in his hair and setting it into unfamiliar wild curls. It rattled through his shirt, the faded white linen battering and billowing around his ribs like a sail as he stood exposed on a rock before the sea.
It was quiet, but never silent. The endless dull roar of the waves a lullaby to stirred spirits as sure as the thunder awoke them with fear, or so he was told. Harry had never been afraid of the storm, but he found himself agreeing with those who found the waves soothing. He took another breath, another deep draught of Zephyros.
The Dursleys had forgotten him, spitefully determined to ignore his disruptive presence on the annual trip to the beach as they were, they hadn't said a word to him since the initial outcry upon learning of Mrs Figg's accident. His heart went to the woman, it truly did, but if ever he had been willing to pay a price in someone else's pain it was now.
A particularly large wave crested, the peak falling in a curl as it bent low over itself before breaking on the shore.
They'd be back for him eventually, the fear of it being discovered that they'd abandoned a child on the seaside more than enough to overwhelm their loathing of his presence, and Harry would gladly accept whatever punishment they'd concocted for daring to be forgotten. It was worth it.
The breeze quickened, a sharp and sudden wind hurrying across his face and carrying away the sharp exhale of his breath as leaned forwards eagerly, eyes pulled as wide as they would go, searing the sight into his memory. The ocean stretched out before him, vast and deep, and filled with an endless motion that he could feel in his very bones, somehow knowing that in a moment it could be whipped up to a storm. He was sized by a sudden temptation to see it, to witness the water's fury, but in mere moments the waves' melody had carried the notion away.
He sat, and he waited, and he smiled. Content before the sea.