Harry Potter at Eleven

Harry Potter at Eleven

A gentle breeze stirred the neat hedges lining Privet Drive. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, falling upon the spotless ground. Everything seemed unchanged, yet nearly ten years had passed under the power of time! And Harry was about to welcome the long-awaited eleventh birthday that would lead him into a brand-new, wondrous, magical world!

The sun rose above the rooftops, spilling warm light across the garden and into the house. Inside the bright home, the mantelpiece was covered with photos of the Dursley family: Dudley riding a bicycle; Dudley on a merry-go-round; Dudley playing on the computer with his father; his mother kissing Dudley... It looked as though only those three lived in the house.

Yet every family and every person along Privet Drive knew that Number Four was home to an outstanding, polite child with a ready smile and an easy charm. That child was named Harry.

At that moment, in the smallest bedroom of the Dursley house. Yes, a bedroom—not the cupboard under the stairs. A boy was narcissistically admiring himself in the mirror.

As Harry looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror propped against the wall, he stroked his chin and said with unconcealed delight, "Looks like I've grown taller again."

The figure in the mirror was indeed tall and straight-backed. Compared to other eleven-year-olds, Harry stood more than half a head taller than them. Naturally, that was because Harry paid attention to nutrition and exercised every day.

He wore a black casual outfit without a single wrinkle, making him look simple and neat while further highlighting his figure. His still-youthful face carried a faint trace of maturity.

Perhaps because of what he constantly thought about, Harry did not look entirely Western. His face combined Western strength with Eastern softness. That mixed-race appearance, pleasing to both Eastern and Western tastes, coupled with jewel-bright emerald-green eyes, made Harry all the more attractive.

There were two especially unusual things about Harry. The first was his long, jet-black hair. Of course, Harry had no desire to grow waist-length hair like a girl, but after suffering through the nuisance of having his hair cut every week countless times, an irritated Harry had simply shaved his head. The result was that when he woke up the next day, he discovered that his hair had grown back—and it was even longer than before! Harry had practically never experienced the feeling of having short hair like a normal boy, yet he also hated the kind of hairstyle that stopped right at the shoulders.

I'm not an artist, so why should I keep that kind of hairstyle?

Later, Harry simply stopped bothering with it. He discovered that once his rapidly growing hair reached a certain length, its growth rate became the same as an ordinary person's. So Harry kept that gorgeous hair fit to advertise shampoo!

Harry certainly would not style it into some goddess-like coiffure or ram-horn braids, but neither did he put much effort into his hair. He merely used a black hair tie to loosely bind it around the middle, unlike girls, who tied theirs at the very top.

In fact, there were plenty of people with long hair in Harry Potter, such as Professor Snape, Headmaster Dumbledore, and the elder Malfoy... So Harry did not fuss over it too much.

The second unusual thing was the tattoo in the center of his forehead: a silver lotus tattoo! The shining tattoo irresistibly drew the eyes of everyone who saw it.

A lightning-shaped scar on such a handsome face was terribly out of place, but Harry knew it could not be removed. He had thought of many methods, until he finally came up with what he believed was a brilliant solution that only the wisest people could think of—getting a tattoo.

This year, Harry had spent most of the scholarship money he had saved up each year on a tattoo placed over his forehead, just enough to conceal the scar. He had taken a long time to choose the lotus, but in any case, he simply loved the tattoo.

As for why he had used silver dye, first of all, it could not be red. He was not a pervert; why would he want something so gaudy?

Black? No. He was not from the Black Lotus Sect.

White? No. He was not from the White Lotus Sect.

"Then couldn't silver be called the Silver Chain Sect?"

What... what did you say? I can't hear you. Please say it again.

...I still can't hear you...

After admiring himself in the mirror, Harry felt that he looked absolutely stunning. He glanced at a calendar on the bedside table, where September 1 had been heavily circled in red.

"September 1, the opening day of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry... There's still more than a month... Finally..." Harry raised his head and murmured, unable to suppress the excitement and anticipation on his face.

Anyone about to enter a mysterious magical world would be excited, let alone someone who had always lived in the Muggle world!

In truth, Harry had already come into contact with the magical world. For instance, on the street or on the bus, he would occasionally encounter oddly dressed people who took off their hats and bowed to him. Naturally, Harry knew who they were. Rather than staring blankly, he politely returned the gesture, after which they would become excited all over...

Harry thought it over carefully. It was not as though he would enter Hogwarts immediately after buying the magical supplies a first-year wizard needed in Diagon Alley. It seemed he would still have to remain in the Muggle world for more than a month until school began. Which meant... his acceptance letter from the magical school would arrive within the next few days!

Harry clenched his fist and gave it an excited pump. Only after a moment did he head downstairs.

As he walked down the stairs, Harry thought of the cupboard beneath them. But he would not let just anyone bully him like in the original story.

When Uncle Dursley had told him to live in the cupboard, Harry had said nothing. He had merely looked at him calmly. Then... several large ceiling lamps began flickering as though the voltage were unstable, while the kitchen utensils, doors, windows, and glass all started shaking. Dudley shrieked and made a fuss nearby. Harry would never forget Uncle Dursley's expression, shifting from white to red and then black. Harry thought that if Dursley studied the art of face-changing, he might become a master at it.

Naturally, nothing had changed in the end. But that night, Dursley had given Dudley an unforgettable memory, though no one knew why. Hahaha~

Today, Petunia had just returned with the uniform for Smeltings, the school Dudley would attend. Dudley was trying it on in the living room. Smeltings' boys' uniform really was rather nice: a maroon tailcoat on top, orange knee breeches below. There was also a flat straw hat called a boater, along with a knobbly walking stick—quite a useful tool for fighting.

The outfit looked rather dashing on an ordinary person, but when Dudley wore it, all that remained was comedy.

The plump Dudley strutted around the house in his uniform, grinning from ear to ear. Then he stopped and gave a thumbs-up in front of his chest while Petunia hurriedly took pictures.

Uncle Dursley said hoarsely, "This is my proudest moment!"

Aunt Petunia took pictures as she cried. "My little darling has grown up, and he's grown so handsome too. I can hardly believe it."

Harry nearly burst out laughing. "Good thing I've trained!"

Harry was struggling to hold it in, desperately wanting to complain, Thank you for curing my years of indigestion!

They were hilarious. Absolute professionals!!

When they saw Harry come downstairs, Dursley and Petunia did not look pleased. Harry secretly shook his head. Wasn't it just that an enormous python crawled over Dudley at the zoo a few days ago? Was that really necessary? Besides, it really had nothing to do with me. Really. Truer than pearls. I swear on my integrity.

Petunia handed Harry a school uniform. "This is the uniform for Stonewall High, the school you'll be attending," she said coolly.

Harry accepted it with a smile. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia." Petunia merely snorted.

Compared to the other Harry, this Harry was much happier. Although Uncle Dursley's family did not treat him well, they had not bullied him either. At the very least, this uniform was not secondhand.

Things like Dudley bullying Harry and giving him a miserable childhood simply would not happen. Harry could only laugh at that.

Instead...

Dudley, Dudley, who was the person you feared most in this world?

Harry. Harry was the person Dudley feared most in the world!

Heh... hehehe...

The harm Harry had inflicted upon Dudley's young heart was something Dudley would never forget for the rest of his life. Of course, Harry was deeply ashamed of it. After all, could an adult really consider constantly tattling to teachers and parents a glorious thing?

Harry was still very grateful to Uncle Dursley's family. After all, they had raised him for nearly ten years. Though they had never let him eat his fill, leaving him too weak for his beauty to show... Ahem, cough... Harry had decided to take some of his inheritance at Gringotts and give it to Aunt Petunia. Of course, that would happen in a few days.

Harry went outside to check whether there was any mail in the letterbox, only to be disappointed.

"Damn it, can't you deliver the letter any faster?" Harry felt utterly drained, though he did not know who exactly he was cursing.

Luo Bei: I thought it was quite interesting in the original work that Harry's hair kept growing quickly because he was a wizard, so I gave Harry long hair.

Harry's scar was originally on the right side of his forehead, but for the sake of the setting, it has been placed in the center of his forehead.