1986, Number 4, Privet Drive, England.
Harry suddenly opened his eyes and shot up from the bed, his upper body rising like a spring.
“Thump.”
With tear-filled eyes, Harry lay back down on the bed.
He had bumped his head on the step. He touched it and felt a slight bump, a bit swollen.
But the pain no longer distracted him.
Just moments before, he’d had a long dream, a dream that felt like he had lived for twenty years.
In the dream, he seemed to have gone to the mysterious Eastern country of Huaguo.
He lived there for twenty years.
Twenty years! That was four times his current age.
He was confused. How could he dream for so long?
How could a person dream for such a long time?
Besides, he had never been to Huaguo. His limited knowledge of Huaguo came from magazines.
But in the dream, his understanding of Huaguo was as if he was born and raised there.
He even learned the language and writing of Huaguo!
Yes, Harry was sure of it; he now knew Huaguo's language and writing completely. In fact, the twenty-plus years of experience made his knowledge of Huaguo's language and writing stronger and more familiar than his own native tongue.
But it was just a dream, at best an unusually vivid dream!
Harry could feel that most of what happened in the dream was already fading from his memory, just like any other dream.
Fragments of the dream would slowly disappear from his mind.
Except for a few vivid memories.
Suddenly, a rough pounding on the door broke his contemplation.
“Get up, get up now!” It was a sharp female voice.
Was that his aunt’s voice? Familiar yet strange.
Harry shook his head, putting aside his dream memories.
He got up, opened the closet door. No one was at the door. His aunt wouldn’t wait for him. Obviously.
Harry washed and cleaned himself, then started his daily chores - cleaning the house.
He was only six years old, and his aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon only made him sweep and dust the furniture.
When he was finally done, panting, breakfast was already set on the table.
Uncle Vernon was leisurely reading the newspaper, and his cousin Dudley was playing with his favorite toy.
Both naturally ignored Harry.
Harry didn’t react. He sat down at his chair. Aunt Petunia came out of the kitchen and sat down.
That action meant breakfast could begin.
Harry took two pieces of bread, a fried egg, and a slice of ham - that was all he could eat.
The six-year-old body was too thin and small.
His cousin Dudley was at least twice his size.
There were two steaks on his plate, but his mouth was already full.
“Eat slowly, Dudley. Eat slowly,” Aunt Petunia said softly to her son.
Dudley completely ignored her.
At least he ignored everyone while eating, unless he was full.
No one at the table spoke to Harry.
After breakfast, Harry helped clear the dishes and put them in the kitchen.
He didn’t have to wash the dishes yet because he had to go to school. Adding washing dishes to his schedule would make him too late for school.
After all, cousin Dudley and Uncle Vernon ate like bottomless pits, taking longer to eat than normal people.
After leaving the house, Dudley got into Uncle Vernon’s car. Uncle Vernon would drive Dudley to school, but Harry had to walk to his school.
They didn't go to the same school.
Cousin Dudley went to the private school Smelting, while he went to the public school Stonewall.
Of course, even if they went to the same school, Uncle Vernon wouldn’t take Harry with him.
His attitude towards Harry was simple: avoid contact whenever possible.
He'd rather Harry didn’t exist.
Before, Harry didn't understand why Uncle Vernon treated him this way.
He held resentment towards Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
But after that dream, Harry understood a bit.
Even if you were a close relative, staying at their house for a week would cause a bit of dissatisfaction.
How much more so for him, living in Uncle Vernon's house since he was a child, an extra person to support? Anyone would be unhappy.
That was the only reason he could think of.
The cost of living.
On his way to school, Harry kept thinking about this.
At Stonewall School, Harry listened to the teacher’s lecture.
It was boring.
Yes, after fifteen years of education in Huaguo, his knowledge level far exceeded these primary school students.
He could only remember the vivid memories from his dream.
But he remembered the knowledge from those fifteen years of education. Those memories must have been so deeply ingrained for him in the dream.
So deeply ingrained that he never wanted to experience them again.
Looking at the letters the teacher wrote on the board, Harry felt helpless.
He had finally gotten through all that. Why did he have to start over? Did he have to go through another fifteen years?
Thinking about that, Harry couldn’t help but shiver.
He finally made it to the end of the school day.
Harry packed up his things and prepared to leave.
“Hey, Harry.” A voice called out to him.
Harry turned around. It was a group of primary school students. He frowned, thinking for a moment before recognizing them.
Oh, crap!
It was that group that always bullied him.
Being bullied was a regular occurrence for Harry at school.
After all, he was small and looked easy to pick on.
Bullying was a common occurrence in British schools.
His cousin Dudley was one of the bullies. His larger-than-average body gave him the right to bully others.
Harry turned to run, but he was blocked.
“Think you can run away?” A jeering voice came from them.
Seeing that his path was blocked, Harry stopped. He couldn’t outrun them.
His body was too small, and his athletic abilities were inferior to theirs.
But he wasn’t terrified. He’d faced similar situations in his dream.
How did he solve them in the end?
He got beaten up, for sure.
But his limit was one for one.
He’d pick one and beat the crap out of him.
If they wanted to hurt him, he wouldn’t let them have it easy.
There wasn’t much conversation. They came to bully him, not to talk to him.
One boy made the first move, swinging his fist at Harry’s body.
Seeing that someone had taken the initiative, Harry targeted him.
Today, I might be badly hurt, but you’re not going to have it easy either.
Harry’s emerald eyes flashed with a fierce look.
He clenched his fists, his hands tightening.
But just then, Harry felt a faint warm current flow through his brow.
Then, he saw that the boy's fist, aimed at him, slowed considerably.
At this speed, he could easily dodge it.
Even though he didn’t understand what was happening, now wasn’t the time to think about it. Without hesitation, he dodged the fist and kicked the boy hard in the stomach.
“Ah.” The boy hadn’t expected Harry to fight back. He cried out in pain, clutching his stomach.
Harry didn’t stop, pressing his advantage, his fists pounding relentlessly.
Seeing this, the other boys rushed to intervene.
Someone punched Harry in the stomach.
Harry ignored him and continued beating the boy on the ground.
Someone tried to pull Harry away, to stop him from hitting the boy any longer.
Harry stomped on the boy’s toes, making him howl in pain.
He ignored him and continued beating the boy on the ground.
Fists and feet landed on Harry’s body.
He ignored them and continued beating the boy on the ground.
As long as he was beating the boy on the ground, the fists and feet landing on him somehow didn’t hurt as much as they had before, when he was covering his head and taking the blows.
“Stop it, stop it!” The boy on the ground cried, covering his head, finally unable to take it anymore.
Hearing his words, the other boys hesitated, stopping their attacks.
Seeing them stop, Harry gave him one more kick before stopping.
He turned his head and met the gazes of the other boys.
His emerald eyes, devoid of emotion, were icy cold.
He picked up his schoolbag, brushed the dust off his clothes, and slowly walked away from the school.
None of the other boys dared to stop him.
Only the boy on the ground was left, still crying.