The gears of fate

Gerald reacted so quickly and so obviously that Luke stopped midsentence and gave him a puzzled look.

"Gerald, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I mistook someone for somebody else."

Gerald looked away, his expression returning to normal.

Privet Drive.

He knew that name all too well.

To be precise, anyone who had read Harry Potter would remember the name of that street.

This was where the whole story began.

But reading about it and experiencing it firsthand were two different things.

That skinny boy with glasses and emerald-green eyes.

Was he here?

For nearly twelve years, Gerald had lived in Nameless Town in Essex County. He had never been to Surrey County.

Even after learning that this was the world of Harry Potter, he had never deliberately dwelled on Harry Potter himself, much less imagined he would pass through this place so soon.

Yet here he was, sitting in a pickup truck as it turned into Privet Drive and passed rows of tidy brick houses.

Uncle Jack drove slowly, looking for the house number of Aunt Mary's parents.

The pickup's engine puttered along, barely moving faster than walking pace.

Number Four, Privet Drive.

Gerald looked through the window, his gaze settling on the door of that house.

This was it.

That film still he had seen in his previous life-Vernon Dursley standing in the doorway, Petunia craning her neck to look outside, Dudley pulling faces behind them.

Now it overlapped with the real house before his eyes.

The pickup kept moving, and the number four flashed past the window.

Gerald turned back and leaned against his seat.

Harry Potter, the protagonist of this magical world, was in that house right now.

According to the original timeline, Harry Potter had been born on July 31, 1980.

Today was December 24, 1989. Christmas Eve.

He wasn't even ten yet.

Gerald's brow slowly furrowed.

At nine, Harry Potter should still have been living in the cupboard under the stairs.

Perhaps he was wearing Dudley's castoffs right now, helping Aunt Petunia wash the Christmas Eve dinner plates in the kitchen.

He didn't know there was a place called Hogwarts in this world, let alone what his own name meant in the wizarding world.

Right now, he was merely an ordinary orphan abused by his aunt's family.

A host of thoughts flashed through Gerald's mind.

He could find Harry before school started, tell him about the magical world, and give his aunt's family a warning.

But that would mean interfering with the original plot.

Could he do that?

Or rather, should he?

Fate really was one hell of a fucking problem.

He knew perfectly well that if events followed the original storyline, Harry Potter would receive his Hogwarts acceptance letter at eleven, then set out, step by step, along his destined path.

He would win in the end. He would defeat the monster whose name could not be spoken.

But before he won, many people would die.

That thought stirred an indescribable emotion in Gerald's chest.

It wasn't pity. At least, not entirely.

If he changed Harry's childhood, would that also change the course of everything that followed?

If he told Harry about the magical world early, would Dumbledore notice?

Could knowing nothing be a kind of happiness, too?

At that thought, Gerald paused, then shook his head with a rueful laugh.

Why had he suddenly become so sentimental, pondering nonsense about ignorance bringing happiness?

Did knowing mean you couldn't be happy?

Such questions were meaningless, because reality would never change one bit just because you thought you should or shouldn't know something.

Strength. Only strength could decide everything.

Harry, if our paths were destined to cross someday, then I'd probably have to pull quite a few strings with you.

"What are you thinking about?"

Luke's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Gerald came back to himself and realized the pickup had stopped outside Aunt Mary's parents' house.

It was slightly smaller than the Dursley family's house, with a string of Christmas lights hanging around the entrance, their warm yellow glow twinkling in the winter dusk.

Gerald glanced at the house number. Number Twelve, Privet Drive.

So close. Had the gears of fate begun to turn?

"Nothing. Just thinking about school." Gerald unbuckled his seat belt.

"Magic school?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You still haven't properly told me about it. This time, you've got to tell me everything, from beginning to end."

"Sure. I'll tell you tonight." Gerald pushed open the door and stepped onto Privet Drive.

He glanced back the way they had come. Number Four, Privet Drive was less than five hundred meters away.

Gerald looked away and followed Uncle Jack and Luke toward the front door of Aunt Mary's parents' house.

They had barely taken a few steps when Gerald spotted an old man standing outside.

"Grandpa Henry!"

"Gerald, you're back!" Grandpa Henry's voice was full of joy.

"Yes, I'm back," Gerald said with a smile.

"Dad, didn't I tell you to wait inside? It's freezing out there." Aunt Mary poked her head out of the kitchen, a wooden spoon still raised in her hand. "Gerald, come in. Dinner will be ready soon. Go play with Luke and Bill in the living room for a while. Bill, stop sneaking pies off the table!"

A boy two or three years younger than Gerald snatched his hand back from the dining table and guiltily stuck his tongue out toward the kitchen.

He was Uncle Jack's younger son, with the same curly brown hair as Luke.

Aunt Mary's parents were a kindly elderly couple. A Christmas tree, not particularly tall but covered in colorful baubles, stood in the living room, and a fire blazed in the fireplace.

The living room wasn't large, but it was cozy and well kept.

Aunt Mary's family was clearly much better off than Grandpa Henry's. Gerald wondered how Uncle Jack had managed to marry her back then.

After a quick round of greetings, Gerald was dragged up to the attic by Luke to look at his newly collected football cards.

Dinner began at seven sharp.

Aunt Mary had roasted an enormous turkey, its skin crisp and glistening, its cavity stuffed with herbs and chestnuts.

Also brought to the table

were mashed potatoes, roasted carrots, Yorkshire Pudding, and a large bowl of cranberry sauce.

Uncle Jack opened a bottle of whisky he had treasured for over half a year, pouring a glass each for his father-in-law and Grandpa Henry before pouring himself a little.

"Here, Gerald, want a taste?" Uncle Jack waved the bottle in Gerald's direction.

"Jack!" Aunt Mary tapped the back of his hand with her wooden spoon. "He's not even twelve!"

"I was only joking. Right, Dad?" Uncle Jack withdrew his hand and tipped his chin toward Grandpa Henry.

Grandpa Henry lifted his glass and took a sip, smiling without answering.

Gerald ate three plates of turkey and drank two bowls of thick soup.

It was the first time he had eaten so much since his breakthrough into refining essence into qi.

It wasn't so much that Aunt Mary's cooking was exceptionally good. Mostly, he couldn't fend off all the adults urging him to eat more.

They always thought Gerald wasn't getting enough food at boarding school.

After dinner, the adults gathered in the living room to chat and drink, while Luke and Bill sat beneath the Christmas tree guessing what was in their presents.

Gerald helped Grandpa Henry back to the guest room. Primordial qi seeped from his palm into the old man's meridians, slowly making a circuit through his body.

His heart meridian was somewhat weak, and his qi and blood were deficient.

These were common problems among the elderly. The Foundation-Stabilizing Liquid should resolve them.

Gerald let go and took several bottles of Foundation-Stabilizing Liquid he had deliberately set aside from the Object-Storing Talisman he carried, placing them beside the bed.

"Grandpa, drink one bottle of this every week. I'll send more when you finish them."

"You still have plenty of things to spend money on. Don't waste it." There was reproach in the old man's voice, but even more happiness.

"It hardly costs anything."

Gerald didn't dare say he had made it himself. Even family would probably hesitate to drink medicine made by an eleven-year-old.

Once he had finished, Bill clamored to light some sparklers.

Luke was busy helping Aunt Mary wash the dishes. Gerald had wanted to help too, but she had chased him out of the kitchen.

With no other choice, Gerald accompanied Bill outside to set off fireworks.

The weather in Britain really wasn't great. There were hardly any stars visible even at night.

While watching Bill play with the fireworks, Gerald suddenly found himself missing the moon back home.

His eyes wandered idly until a figure suddenly entered his field of vision.

The figure was rather thin and dragged a large bag of rubbish in his hand.

His clothes were clearly far too big for him.