Unlucky Kid

Harry woke up.

His room—or rather, his den—was a cupboard beneath the stairs. Whenever someone went upstairs, dust would come fluttering down from the ceiling.

His day began when his aunt started yelling at him.

"Get up!"

Dust fell from overhead as someone stomped angrily downstairs.

"Are you awake?"

"I'm awake."

"Then get up quickly and keep an eye on the bacon. Just you try burning it. I want everything to go smoothly on Dudley's birthday."

After delivering her half-threatening, half-commanding words at the door, Aunt Petunia turned and left.

Today was the birthday of her son, Dudley, a child who had inherited Uncle Vernon's deep-sea-torpedo-like build and his remarkably low intelligence.

But so what? Their little darling Duddydums was ten thousand times more lovable than their nephew, Harry Potter.

Harry scrambled out of bed and ran about in circles at his aunt's beck and call. By the time he was finally allowed to sit at the table, the sausage from his plate had already landed in Dudley's huge mouth.

Dudley counted the presents he had received that year on his fingers, while Harry lowered his eyes enviously.

He had never celebrated his birthday, much less received any birthday presents.

Harry Potter continued his miserable ten-year life, living like a servant, like a dog. Meanwhile, Kano finished his morning training on a street nearby.

Nothing from the Faerie Realm could be brought into the mortal world, except willpower and knowledge.

During his hazy first ten years, Kano had learned the Druidic language taught by Merlin, secret magical knowledge, and the brewing methods for all manner of potions.

Gawain had tempered his will and set him upon the path of a knight. Powerful knights could use magic to form an endlessly circulating protective layer over their bodies—one that could even deflect the Killing Curse.

He set down the longsword and shield formed from oak branches, while the full-body armor woven from vines reverted to its original form and burrowed into the earth.

Kano took the white towel Kreacher handed him and wiped away his sweat before sitting at the table to begin breakfast.

Kreacher no longer looked filthy and deranged as he once had. Now, dressed in a spotless white towel and washed squeaky clean, he moved with elegance and speed, every bit the old-fashioned butler.

After Kano appeared, the old house-elf seemed to have found his youth again.

Of course, it was truly annoying when he kept trying to tell Kano about the glorious history of pure-blood families.

Kano had sent Kreacher to keep an eye on Harry, but not interfere with anything.

Today was the day Harry first spoke to a python, making him clearly realize that he was different from everyone else.

After that, however, he was locked in the cupboard beneath the stairs until summer vacation began.

It was now early June. Harry had been shut away for an entire month without seeing daylight.

Anyone who said Harry should not hate Aunt Petunia's family ought to experience it for themselves.

Kano then began reviewing the Druidic knowledge he had memorized.

Druidic teachings were not recorded in writing, so Kano had to recite them often to keep from forgetting. Since being reborn, his memory had far surpassed that of ordinary people, but that was no excuse for laziness.

By the time Kano had swiftly reviewed it twice in his mind, the sun was already close to setting.

"Young master, the Boy Who Lived has returned."

With a pop, Kreacher appeared before Kano. Kano nodded, dressed with Kreacher's help, then strolled over to 4 Privet Drive and knocked on the door.

Furious shouting came from inside, like some kind of construction machinery malfunctioning.

"You freak! You talked to a snake and nearly got my son killed. You made us—"

Did he seem to be out of breath?

"You humiliated us in front of our friends! Get into your room and don't come out!"

Kano had no choice but to knock again, harder. A sudden commotion erupted inside.

Then the door opened. Vernon Dursley's large pink face appeared before Kano.

"Young sir, may I ask what business you have here?"

Vernon looked at the handsome, pale-skinned child in expensive clothes before him and could not help comparing him to his own Dudley.

"Are you Mr. Dursley? I'm Harry's friend. I just moved nearby. Is he at home now?"

What a polite child, just like our Dudley.

Wait, who did he say he was looking for?

"There's... no one named Harry in our family."

"Is that so?" Kano looked up and smiled. "We met near his school last month. If Harry hadn't helped me, I might have been robbed by a group of bad boys."

"He didn't leave his name, but my mother works with children, so I asked her to help me find Harry's address."

Kano asked again, somewhat "embarrassed," "Does he really not live here?"

Vernon's face flushed bright red, as though he were restraining himself from shouting.

"Oh, I remember now. That boy's a bad seed. He usually wanders around the neighborhood, but we still let him stay in our home."

His little eyes, buried in fat, shifted as he added, "But he went out to play. I don't know where he is."

Kano replied with some regret, "All right, then. I wonder if I'll be able to see him if I come by at ten tomorrow morning."

Vernon nodded with difficulty. "Of course, polite young gentleman. I'll keep him at home tomorrow."

Kano seemed greatly encouraged. He bowed to Vernon, then turned and skipped away.

Vernon went back inside and dragged Harry out of the cupboard.

Small and thin, Harry was lifted like a chick by Vernon's fan-sized hand, his skinny legs dangling in the air.

"Listen up, you freak."

Vernon roared furiously, though he seemed wary of something as he glanced toward the door.

"You got lucky, you little brat, but don't think you can use this chance to hurt us."

"Behave yourself tomorrow. Don't say a single word you shouldn't."

Vernon clenched his hand tighter, and Harry felt as if his shoulder were about to split apart.

"Don't say one extra word, or I'll make you regret it."

Harry was dragged out in confusion and listened to the string of warnings in confusion. Even after he returned to the cupboard without a clock, he still had no idea what had happened.

The next day, Harry was stuffed into one of Dudley's old outfits. Though he usually could only wear Dudley's discarded rags, this set was clearly less worn-out than usual.

Dudley was extremely unwilling, but Aunt Petunia stuffed more sausage, bacon, and bread into his mouth.

Harry's hair suffered once again. Even with all her strength, Petunia could not comb it flat, and after ten minutes of struggling, she could only admit defeat again.

"Your hair is as stubborn as you are."

She threw out those words before rushing off to dress up her husband and son.

As ten in the morning approached, everyone in the house sat stiffly upright. Dudley looked like a pig draped in red and decorations, his eyes constantly drifting toward the sweets on the table.

Aunt Petunia's long neck came in handy once more as she kept looking out the window.

Uncle Vernon kept raising his hand to check the time, though he really just wanted to touch the gold watch on his wrist.

At exactly ten o'clock, the doorbell rang.

When Aunt Petunia opened the door, a handsome, elegant young man walked into the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Dursley, Mrs. Dursley, and Dudley."

Vernon proudly puffed out his chest, and several buttons gave off dangerous creaks.

"And good morning, my friend." Kano winked. "Harry Potter."

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