"Hey, Harry, if you don't want to be late, then you should wake up—"
"...Oh, okay."
A hand pressed down on the noisy alarm clock by the bed, and about two and a half minutes later, the lump under the covers finally showed some movement. A boy with a mess of black hair sat up, staring blankly for a moment before grabbing the round-framed glasses he had placed next to the alarm clock the night before.
Gazing blankly at the deep blue ceiling painted with a starry sky, Harry finally reluctantly pushed off the covers and stood by the window, pulling it open to take a deep breath of fresh air from Southeast England. Then, he shuffled into the bathroom, pushing up the hair that almost covered his eyes—
Looking at himself in the mirror, the boy was silent for a moment, then instinctively touched the smooth spot on his forehead.
Right... He wasn't as mischievous as his cousin Dudley, so how could he have a scar on his forehead? Although the recently ended dream did feel very real, it was unbelievable that he had dreamt of becoming a wizard and attending a wizard school, Gryffindor, Slytherin... Those things sounded too... strange.
Although being able to talk to snakes did sound pretty cool.
Brushing teeth, washing face, changing out of pajamas... This had been his routine for the past few years, except that today Harry took out a set of maroon tailcoats and orange short lantern pants that he had only worn once before. He remembered that today was his first day at Smeltings Academy.
Placing the round, hard straw hat on his head, he sighed at the few stubborn black hairs that insisted on peeking out from under the hat, and reluctantly grabbed the segmented cane that was pressed under a pile of clothes—
"Oh, this outfit really suits you, Harry—"
"Thank you, Mom."
Harry, walking down the stairs, gave a brief hug to the woman waiting at the bottom. He paused for a moment, then a wave of sadness overcame him, and he instinctively chose to deepen the embrace.
"What's wrong?"
Lily Potter asked curiously, noticing something strange about the boy.
"Oh, I... nothing, just thinking about not seeing you... you all for a while."
Harry loosened his arms with a bit of confusion, shaking his head without mentioning the dream, which was beginning to fade but was still fairly clear—after all, the content of that dream was difficult to speak of. How should he say it?
'Hey, Mom, guess what, I dreamt that you and Dad died when I was just two years old'?
Wouldn't I get beaten up for that?
Although he knew his parents had always been good-tempered, it was better not to take that risk.
"Of course, but you only need to stay at school for a week—five days, to be exact. It's not hard, Harry." Lily took off the hat from the boy's head and smoothed down the stubborn hair that had started to spring up again, "Besides, you'll have your cousin with you, won't you?"
"But this life will last for years—"
Harry continued, as if he was truly sad about living on his own.
"You're eleven years old now, Harry." A figure emerged from the kitchen, crouching beside his wife and son, "You're a young man. You're just leaving us for middle school, and you'll be back every weekend—"
"James—" Lily chided, seemingly blaming her husband for his overly tough tone.
"No, Mom, it's okay—" Harry shook his head, hiding the inexplicable panic in his heart, "Yes, just like Dad said, I'm already eleven, I shouldn't be whining."
"That's my boy—" James Potter rubbed the boy's head with some pride, messing up the hair Lily had just smoothed, "Since you're ready, let's have breakfast first. Vernon will be here soon..."
...
"Ding dong—"
As Harry put down his knife and fork, the Potter family doorbell rang just in time.
"I'll get it."
Harry jumped off the stool and ran quickly to the door to open it.
"Oh, it's little Harry."
The man outside the door had a fawning smile on his face; in Harry's memory, Uncle Vernon had always been like this—how could the "fierce wild boar" in his dream be the same person as the Uncle Vernon in front of him?
After all, he worked at Dad's shampoo factory.
"Vernon, you've arrived?"
James, still eating pancakes, looked up and said, "Come in and wait. Harry still has some luggage to move."
"Oh, okay, boss... Oh, no, okay, James, maybe I can help?"
Vernon Dursley, rubbing his hands, walked through the door, followed by a woman and a mini-version of himself, a little chubby boy.
"No, Vernon, Harry said he wanted to do it himself..."
"Good morning, Dudley—"
Harry cheerfully patted the shoulder of the little chubby boy wearing the same outfit.
"Oh, hello, Potter."
Dudley seemed a little shy about being patted, but there were no secrets between kids like there are with adults, and he quickly joined Harry in heading upstairs.
"Just need to move two more boxes," Harry said, leading the little chubby boy back to his room, "Want to help me?"
Dudley, naturally, had no objections, or rather, he couldn't refuse, and helped Harry move the two heavy-looking boxes to their family's car.
Meanwhile, the adults from both families sat in the living room. Seeing the two panting little boys standing before him, James set down his teacup and stood up, "Since you're ready," he checked the time, "Lily and I have to go to the company today, the new product needs watching—"
"Don't worry, James, I'll make sure to get little Harry to school safely—" Vernon immediately stood up as well.
"It's fine, Vernon, just remember to take it slow," Lily smiled and patted Harry's shoulder, smoothing the boy's wrinkled clothes from carrying heavy items, "Study hard at school. If you miss me and Dad, you can call, but..."
"But remember the time, I know, Mom, you won't be home until the evening." Harry nodded quickly.
After a heartfelt goodbye, Harry got into the Dursleys' red sedan, which, though it only carried two adults and a child, still felt overloaded as it headed towards Smeltings Academy.
...
"...I thought James would send Harry to Eton College."
The car drove smoothly, and looking at the two boys already asleep in the rearview mirror, Vernon Dursley pursed his lips.
"I thought so too, but Eton College is quite far. Maybe they just want Harry close to them?"
Petunia Dursley in the passenger seat also seemed puzzled.
Their conversation didn't affect the journey, and when the car stopped in front of Smeltings Academy, they woke the two boys who were starting to drool.
"Oh... Uncle Vernon, are we there already?"
For some reason, Harry had an urge to punch that pig-face, but he quickly realized—he was just trying to see if he could dream again about that wizarding world, but linking two dreams wasn't that simple.
Harry rubbed his eyes and got out of the car.
"Of course, come, I'll walk you in."
Uncle Vernon, who had taken on almost all the luggage, refused Harry and Dudley's help. Red-faced, he led them to the registration area.
The registration process at Smeltings Academy wasn't complicated. Within two and a half hours, Harry was already sitting on the bed Aunt Petunia had made for him. After saying goodbye to Uncle and Aunt, he and Dudley returned to the four-person dormitory where they would spend most of their time for the next five years.
Just as the boy curiously looked out the window, the dorm room door was pushed open from the outside.
Harry instinctively turned his head, and after a brief moment of daze, his eyes widened—
"Hey, I'm Ron, Ron Weasley. What's your name?" The tall, skinny red-haired boy extended his hand to Harry.