Harry didn't stop his muttered chanting until the phase was complete. Interrupting that spell, with that much power gathered... the backlash wouldn't be pretty. So it was just over a minute before he dropped his arms and turned to look at the man standing in the yard.
"Nah, I just followed it home one day and it decided to keep me." He turned his body to face the newcomer. His brow furrowed lightly, studying the man. The accent was Manchester, Northern England, and pretty strong, but that was almost the only thing Harry could be sure of. And Harry was good at reading people. It was like the man was... out of place, out of time somehow, though the clothes were fairly modern. It was as though the man was simply camouflaging himself to the world.