"My name is Vanya Hargreeves and this is my story…It's a long and arduous one; filled with heartache, betrayal, longing and unconditional love"
—Pg 3, LIFE UNDER THE UMBRELLA: FOREWORD, V. HARGREEVES
Vanya's story had always spoken to him; a kindred spirit that called out to another, even after Harold had found out that she was not so different from her siblings as she had first thought. He liked to think that the two had been cut from the same cloth, and by some twist of fate the two had fallen into each other's lives on that fateful day all those years ago.
They had been but babes then, neither quite sure of what the other was capable of; but through some several hours of hard work and teeth-grinding patience, he was able to get the youngest of the Hargreeves to see the light—to see things his way. Of course, at the time, Vanya (and an unborn Theodore) had still very much been held in the clutches at the time, but Harold had soon corrected that issue (thanks in part to her brother's death, but that was only a little bit of it).
"Our father never missed an opportunity to remind me that I was ordinary in a world full of extraordinary. A hard thing for a little girl to hear, but if you're raised to believe that nothing about you is special. If the benchmark is extraordinary, then what do you do if you're not?"
—Pg 225, LIFE UNDER THE UMBRELLA: NUMBER SEVEN, V. Hargreeves
When Harold had first been released after his stint with his latest probation officer (some nonsensical bint with a particular hatred for the 'Umbrella Man'), he had immediately gotten right back to work on regaining information on the Umbrella Academy, and in turn, all of the Hargreeves; including his son. In fact, the last time Harold had actually been in the same room as one of them was a couple of years back when he had snuck into a local cafe that Vanya & Theodore frequented and he had sat nearby, just watching the two. So close and yet so far; close enough to reach out & touch, to inhale the scent of his son's flaky pastry and as he bit into his own pastry, the cane-bound man could almost imagine that he was sitting there across from his son, enjoying breakfast with them on that cold Saturday morning.
"…In the end, after our beloved brother Ben, had died and with Five still gone, there was nothing left to keep us holding on anymore; nothing to connect us… I was the first to leave, then Diego, Klaus and Allison. Until only Luther remained, and by then…the Umbrella Academy was long dead"
—Pg 136, LIFE UNDER THE UMBRELLA: NUMBER SIX, V. Hargreeves
Harold could barely remember what had happened after he had hit the lake or when he had been dragged from it. The next thing he did remember was waking up in the local RSA with a washcloth slapped to his forehead and the sound of old biddies nattering with a pair of LANE Keepers in the corner. From the sound of it, they had thought him suspicious of hiding a LANE in the old cabin because everyone in the area had taken note of the banshee-like screams that echoed out from the woods and the number of fallen trees that had fallen in that area. Turns out, the locals weren't as dumb as they thought (hoped) they were. Which was why he had found himself slapped in silver cuffs as they escorted him into the city, mindless of his rights and excuses (they'd eventually gotten him to a sanctioned doctor but the damage was too far gone).
Understandably, the love that Harold had once held for Vanya had turned sour and bitter over time. Following that blowout fight back in 2013 when Vanya had found his notebook (he should've hidden it better) and demanded to know what the hell was going on, and his whole masquerade had come crashing down. When she had thrown the world's biggest tantrum and thrown him through the cabin wall (it had taken him far longer & far too much money than he cared to admit to fix that damage) and out into the lake down below.
"We were just strangers living under the same roof; people who were destined to be alone, starved for attention, damaged by our upbringing and haunted by what might have been…We all desired love from a man incapable of loving anyone other than himself"
—Pg 255, LIFE UNDER THE UMBRELLA: NUMBER SEVEN, V. Hargreeves
With a flick of her wrists, she had destroyed everything he had ever worked so hard to build; even going so far as to destroy his legs to the point that he now had to walk around with a permanent limp and a cane. It was't fair! She got to just walk away and he was left with—with this?! And to top it all off, she had been granted full custody of their son and he had had to pay dividend for his…'damages' Nevermind the fact that he could barely walk at the time.
Once again a Hargreeves had destroyed his prospects without a care in the world and it boiled his blood. The only difference this time, was that Harold could actually do something about it. And he would. This time Harold was going to make sure that the none of the Hargreeves would ever forget his name; he would make sure that Sir Reginald Hargreeves was going to turn in his grave when he saw what he had missed, because by God, Harold was ready to take the world by storm!
"If the public was going to name me the Umbrella Man, then I believe it is well within my right to christen Vanya as the White Violin"
—Pg 15, THE GARDE: VANYA "NUMBER SEVEN" HARGREEVES, H. Jenkins
Currently, he traipsed through the streets of New York as a free man (especially now that his latest probation officer had joined the ranks of the dead buried out on Jackpine Road. Despite the air of gloom that hung about the city like a fog, Harold could not have been happier. He was a free man once more, there was no uptight bitch breathing down his neck or a beeping monitor strapped to his ankle, these people didn't know what he had done (this time) and if he played his cards right, he could entangle mother and son back in his web once more.
Things finally fell into place on a Sunday in late March, when by a complete stroke of luck, Sir Reginald Hargreeves, renowned billionaire, entrepreneur and master of the Umbrella Academy suddenly died. Heart attack, they called it; but Harold didn't particularly care about that. No, he was more interested in the fact that not only would the target of his desire be in the city, but the entire Hargreeves family who would be coming back for the funeral. All of his eggs were finally back in the one basket, making this lifelong ventures and all of those setbacks finally worth it.
"Despite the rosy-tinted facade that everyone (including ourselves) saw, we were never a real family. We were only our father's creation; family in name, but not in fact"
—Pg 7, LIFE UNDER THE UMBRELLA: INTRODUCTION, V. Hargreeves
And his ticket in? Number Four and his inherent drug habit. Predictably, as most drug addicts would do anything to get their fix, Number Four eventually emerged from the manor with hands full of golden-plated items. One in particular, was a gold-plated box with pearl inlay (not important) which held some very interesting contents.
Harold had watched eagerly from the safety of the shadows (where he had been pondering whether or not he could scale one of the fire escapes to get in) as the raggedy man had dumped the papers before sauntering off down the street with a spring in his step. And then he was on the dumpster like a fly on poop, sifting through the stinking garbage to get what had been tossed; it was a leatherbound journal inlaid with gold (because of course): THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY: EX LIBRIS REGINALD HARGREEVES
Harold grinned wickedly.
"In a house full of children, you'd have thought I would have been spoilt for friends…But I can still remember being so disappointed that I was never allowed to go and play with my siblings…that I was never special enough to do so…What kind of man forbids their siblings to play with each other? What kind of man would restrict such a simple childish venture?"
—Pg 340, LIFE UNDER THE UMBRELLA: NUMBER SEVEN, V. Hargreeves
With the anecdotes of Sir Reginald Hargreeves tucked into his bag, it had been laughably easy to break into the Umbrella Academy a few days later. So much so, that Harold had berated himself a fair few times for not trying so sooner. It was thanks to a few passages about the children's nightly escapes to the donut shop across the way, that Harold knew which fire escape to scale and which window to crawl in through because Number Five had still not returned and Harold could be quiet when he wanted to be.
Navigating the manor was another adventure in of itself and more than once Harold found himself captivated by all the nuances hidden in cracks & crevices around the place just as much as he was frustrated from all the twists & turns. More than once he found his jealously bubbling close to the surface as he warred with himself over whether or not he should steal or destroy something related to the Umbrella Academy (because there was a lot of that kind of stuff in there). Eventually, Harold found himself tucked away in a small little alcove of one of the upper levels where a full collection of the Umbrella Academy figurines had captured his attention (the only one he'd never been able to collect was Reginald Hargreeves, himself), when he had overheard the angered voices from downstairs.
Cautiously peering over the bannister he found all the remaining members of the Umbrella Academy sprawled out below; they appeared to be having a meeting of some sort. There was Number One, looking far fatter & taller than the last time he had been seen. If Harold remembered correctly, it had been when he had found himself spacebound for the moon, not long after the Mogadorians had invaded. Number Two stood at one end of the room, fiddling with his knives as he sneered at One. Number Three looked like she'd rather be anywhere else as she alternated between draining her glass and dodging One's pleading looks for support. Number Four stood collapsed against another pillar (the one opposite from Three) and he was clearly not paying attention as he devoured a bag of rumpled chips. Which left Number Seven middling in the living room with her beloved violin hefted over her shoulder (Theodore wasn't there, but that was because it was the middle of the day and he was in school. Harold had the grainy pictures of him standing amongst other purple-encrusted peers, looking for all the world, more like an Umbrella Academy member than Harold ever had).
If Harold closed his eyes, he could pretend that he too was a part of the Umbrella Academy meeting; special Number Eight, the forgotten hero. Whilst he may have only entered the premises to snoop about and pick up a few more things for his collection, Harold also picked a few more pieces of useful information. Such as the fact that Number Five had supposedly returned (it was good thing he was out & about, otherwise it would've made Harold's break in attempt that much harder), the missing monocle (the one in which Sir Reginald Hargreeves had gained his moniker) and the note that Grace (their android mother) had degraded to the point where they wanted to turn her off.
"Sir Reginald may have built the bomb, but I am the trigger that will bring about a new world, using our son as the ignition…The stage has been set, the pieces laid…so don't be surprised when it blows up in your face"
—Pg 27, THE GARDE: HAROLD "NUMBER EIGHT" JENKINS, H. Jenkins
Hidden from view, Harold waited until every one of the Hargreeves had fled from the manor after the meeting (making sure to pocket that Sir Reginald figurine) before he made his move. Hobbling down the staircases with as much as grace as a crippled man could, he slipped from the building and followed in the shade of Vanya's back. Oblivious to what was going on around her, the violinist walked absently down the street as she mulled over what had just happened. Unbeknownst to her, Harold was barely a few feet behind and waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Turning into a side street, the pair were left alone in the dirty dumpster-lined brick lane and even though it was a little harder to keep up with his limp slowing him down, Harold took advantage of the brief moment of isolation as he raised his cane high in the air. He reasoned that he was doing her a service, taking her away. Afterall, the LANE Keepers were still circling around their street like hungry wolves that were closing in on their kill. He was doing her a favour, taking her away from them. And soon enough, Theodore would follow.
Poised high above his head, Harold readjusted his grip on the hilt of his walking device before took a step and swung. Vanya barely had time to turn, alerted by some sort of witchy sixth sense, before the cane connected with her skull. She hit the ground with an audible thump and with a few more good whacks, she was out.
"…The children need to remember that sneak attacks are just as effective as head-on collisions"
—Pg 3, THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY: EX LIBRIS REGINALD HARGREEVES, R. Hargreeves