Number 13, Privet Drive

London was perpetually gloomy, even in the summer. During the second week of the holidays, after Mrs. Dursley had finished cleaning her precious son Dudley's room, she came downstairs to check on her nephew's chores.

Dishes, washed! Floor, swept and mopped! The dining table had been wiped down too…

He's quite capable of doing chores, and it's not like we haven't provided for him all these years, Mrs. Dursley thought to herself.

If he hadn't broken Dudley's toys before, preventing him from entering Dudley's room, I wouldn't have had to clean up after him.

Sighing with a hint of regret, Mrs. Dursley went out to the front yard. Their yard wasn't large, but she spent considerable effort tending to her flowerbeds every day.

To be precise, she used her neck, which was twice as long as an ordinary person's, to crane over the fence and spy on her neighbors.

What she gleaned from these peeping expeditions often served as a flavorful accompaniment to the Dursley family's dinners.

Today, her target was a house across the street, at Number 13, Privet Drive. If she hadn't overheard her neighbors' conversation yesterday, she would have thought the house was still vacant.

It was said that the owner of that house was quite reclusive, rarely seen out on the street, except for occasionally watering his flowers.

Sometimes, he would wear long robes and accessories that seemed to belong to the last century. Some people had even seen him using some kind of steaming cauldron to pour something onto his flowers, and muttering indistinct words to them at night.

He was a very strange person.

Such rumors immediately brought back some unpleasant memories for Mrs. Dursley, so she decided to see for herself today what kind of person this neighbor was.

However, fate was not on her side. By the time Mrs. Dursley had trimmed the bushes in front of her house down to the bare earth, she still hadn't seen the new neighbor.

But to be fair, even from across the fence, she could see the flowers. They were truly beautiful, with silver-blue blooms, their petals seeming to layer upon each other thousands of times, exquisitely so.

Even someone like her, who wasn't particularly interested in flowers, couldn't help but glance at them.

At the same time, she also saw her precious son and nephew roughhousing.

Seeing that the children were fine, she could only return home dejectedly to start preparing lunch.

Outside, the scrawny Harry felt despair as the hulking Dudley grabbed him.

"Run! Keep running!" Dudley sneered, his fat cheeks contorting into a frightening expression.

Harry, with his messy black hair and battered glasses held together by countless strips of tape, stared at Dudley with his green eyes from beneath the glasses, feeling nothing but disgust.

Bang—

Dudley punched him in the nose. "Oh, you're still going to look at me like that?"

His nose began to bleed profusely, but Dudley didn't care. He grabbed Harry by the collar of his oversized, old clothes, contemplating how he could have some fun with him.

"Hey, Dudley!" A freckled, buck-toothed boy walked over. This was Piers, Dudley's good friend. He gestured with a wicked glint in his eyes towards Number 13, Privet Drive.

"Oh, yes," Dudley suddenly grinned.

Number 13, Privet Drive. This place had been the subject of much talk among the local children lately. They all said an evil wizard lived there, one who liked to eat children and used human blood to water his flowers.

Look at those beautiful flowers in the garden; they're watered with fresh human blood.

Clearly, Dudley knew more about the rumors surrounding Number 13, Privet Drive than his parents did. However, Dudley knew his father disliked those superstitious wizard stories, so the clever boy never mentioned them at home.

"No! Dudley, you can't do this!" Harry waved his hands frantically, trying to break free from Dudley's grip, but it was no use. Having lived in a cupboard for years, he was too thin, the complete opposite of Dudley.

"Those are someone's carefully tended flowers," Harry pleaded.

"Didn't you just ruin them?" Hearing this, Dudley became even more excited.

With that, they arrived outside the fence of Number 13, Privet Drive. Dudley scouted around first, confirmed no one was there, then lifted Harry high and threw him inside.

"No!"

Amidst Harry's horrified cry, Dudley and Piers' triumphant laughter and fleeing footsteps could be heard, along with the sound of the flowerbed being crushed.

How fragile the stems were, their crisp snapping sounds representing the demise of lives. Yes, lives. He didn't know why he felt this way about two flowers, as if they were truly wailing in his ears.

Harry quickly got up and saw that he had already crushed several silver-blue flowers that resembled layered roses.

These flowers looked very valuable, and Harry also noticed the blood-red soil.

His breath hitched, and the rumors flooded his mind.

Harry wanted to run, but guilt weighed him down, making him feel rooted to the spot.

As if on cue, at that very moment, with a creak, the front door of Number 13, Privet Drive slowly swung open.

Harry turned his head, and the first thing he saw was exquisite Oxford-brogued leather shoes, followed by a well-fitted pair of trousers. Further up, there was a white shirt and a leather waistcoat.

Then, Harry saw an extremely cold, runway-model-like face. His golden hair was slicked back, and his expression was lifeless. He was holding a watering can, and on his fingers, he wore two ancient silver rings that were already somewhat oxidized.

Mu En pushed the door open and immediately noticed the skinny child inexplicably appearing in his flowerbed outside, and his carefully cultivated precious magical plants – the Moonpetal Flowers, crucial for his curse—

?!

My flowers! My flowers, how could you be dead?!

Then, he noticed Harry, still covered in flower petals…

No, I constructed an anti-thorn electric shock array on the fence and set up a prohibition formation at the entrance of the front yard.

It was precisely to prevent any foolishness that might harm the magical plants.

Did you fly in here??

"Hey, kid!" Mu En looked at him, a hint of anger in his voice. "Do you know how precious Moonpetal Flowers are?"

Harry was so terrified he didn't know what to do with himself.

"S-sorry..." He felt his mouth wasn't cooperating, and his legs were trembling.

"I... I'll fix it!"

"Fix it?!" Mu En couldn't help but laugh, a little exasperated.

However, in the next second, an action he couldn't comprehend occurred.

Harry suddenly crawled onto the ground, covering the damaged flowers with his hands.

Harry was a bit stunned himself. He didn't know why he was doing this, but he just... felt it? Yes, he felt he should do it, that he could do it.

Mu En sighed and walked over, taking Harry's hand. He could tell the kid had trampled his flowerbed due to a special circumstance, unless the boy intended to use his fence for pole vaulting.

"Alright, you can go. Even if you ruined the Moonpetal Flowers, what can I..."

He stopped mid-sentence, looking in surprise at the flowers blooming in the small boy's hands.

"This..." Mu En's voice faltered. At the same time, he saw the other flowers on the bush beginning to regain their vitality. Starting from this point and spreading along the flower stems, a surge of life force began to emanate outwards.

Harry was also surprised. He looked in disbelief at the Moonpetal Flowers in his hands, which were now blooming with renewed life!

He quickly looked up at the man, his eyes filled with apprehension. On one hand, he was afraid the man was, as rumors had it, an evil wizard. On the other hand, every time he displayed an unusual ability like this, he was punished, without exception.

Once, Aunt Petunia couldn't stand his perpetually messy hair any longer and cut it all off with scissors. The next day, all his hair had grown back. This resulted in him being grounded for a week.

Another time, at school, Dudley and his friends were chasing and bullying him again. In the blink of an eye, he found himself on top of the kitchen chimney. This led to him being confined for a month. During that month, he was either at school or in the cupboard, not even allowed out to eat.

Then, in Harry's emerald green eyes, he saw a large hand, adorned with a silver ring and covered in calluses, a hand that seemed to have experienced much, reaching out.

What was he going to do? Was he going to grab him and tell Aunt Petunia? How long would he be grounded, the entire holiday?

Or, was he truly an evil wizard as the rumors claimed? Was he going to take him away? Eat him?

Harry was terrified and didn't dare to move. He even thought it would be better if the man killed him. After all, no one cared about him, and his life wasn't worth cherishing...

The large hand rested on Harry's messy hair, and then, to Harry's disbelieving gaze, a smile appeared on the man's lifeless face.

"Well done, kid."