When he opened his eyes and saw the blurry image of an unfamiliar ceiling, the first thing that came to his mind was why everything hurt. The second thought in his mind was what he did last night that led to said pain. The third thought that crossed his mind had been to ask, what did he smoke and where could he get more?

Groaning in discomfort, Harrison sat up from the sinfully soft and strange bed he had been laid on. He hoped against all odds that he hadn't been kidnapped. Or worse, laying beside a stranger he had no hope of ever remembering.

A small peek to his side, and Harrison let out a small sigh of relief upon finding an empty space beside him. He didn't know what he would have done if there really was someone sleeping beside him.

What can he say? He wasn't good at dealing with awkward situations. Waking up to a stranger beside him would have been infinitely worse.

Rubbing his eyes, he tried to see through the blurriness that plagued his vision. He had thought that by doing so, he could remove the remaining traces of sleep. Harrison looked up and found that nothing had changed and that all he could see were blurry outlines of a room unfamiliar to him.

He could feel a weight settle into his stomach even as he tried to swallow an odd lump in his throat. Throwing the bright red blankets off of his weary body, he leapt off of the bed only to stumble onto his knees. Knees bruised and hands stinging from successfully preventing himself from breaking his nose on the floor, he tried to stand only to discover that his balance was ever so slightly off.

Had he been kidnapped? Had he been drugged? What did he do last night!?

Grabbing the edge of his bed, Harrison tried to steady his legs. Cursing underneath his breath, he had finally succeeded in feeling more like a human standing on his own legs rather than a newborn colt or deer.

Moving to the dresser beside the bed, he noticed something that had continually nagged at his consciousness.

"Why is everything so... near?" - a hand shot to his throat.

That was not his voice. Who was that? That was not his voice. Was someone else there with him? That was not his voice! Thoughts spun frantically in his mind, Harrison drowned in confusion and desperation. Something changed with him. He did not know what, but something had changed.

Looking at his hand, he noted their smooth texture, lacking the calluses he had collected over the years of hard labor and martial practice. White arms, missing the swarthy tone he had gained after extensive exposure to the sun's rays, revealed thin, delicate limbs akin to that of a child's.

Panic and confusion filled his mind. That is not my arm, Harrison thought, and quickly went over the changes his body had undergone in his sleep. His torso was thinner, lacking the thick but lean muscle he had cultivated in order to best practice his art. His legs were shorter, and the distinctive scar he had on his right leg from when he had broken it when kicking against the steel poles of the dojo was missing.

"No. Nonononono!"

Denials rang aloud from his mouth, but his mind, as sharp as it had been from before the changes, could not help but catalog all his observations from even before he had opened his eyes. Thought after thought came and went and a train of logic formed around his odd circumstances.

Instinctively, he ran into the bathroom he did not recognize, barely acknowledging the act of taking a pair of spectacles from the bedside table. Slamming the rich, reddish brown door open, he headed for the mirror, nearly jumping on top of the stool to reach the sink.

What he saw in that mirror crushed his chest and drained his very breath from his lungs.

Amber eyes shining like gold greeted him first as it sat behind circular spectacles. Their color was rich and seemingly sparkled as it reflected light. A white, youthful, cute face set in a disbelieving grimace as he brought his hand brushed through his unkempt, bird's nest of hair.

Surprisingly soft for such thick locks, Harrison had thought in a small part of his mind uncontrolled by the shock.

A much larger part of himself couldn't help but be stuck in disbelief and denial.

That wasn't his face.

That wasn't his face!

Harrison Sloan was a man in his latter twenties with black smooth hair and a harsh, angular face. He was a man with ordinary black eyes and tanned skin from spending long hours outside the walls of his home. Harrison was a man with rough hands and highly calloused digits. He was a practitioner of the Martial Arts and had possessed a body he continually pushed to the limit!

This face, this body, he didn't know who this was! This was a child! What was he doing in the body of a child?!

Anger burned brightly, it burned fiercely in his veins looking for a way out - any means of escape. He wanted to vent no matter what way it might be, but his control ruled supreme. It wouldn't do to damage anything around him at the moment as he did not know where he was. For all he knew, he was in the middle of hostile grounds with people looking to hunt him down.

A sudden pop!

Startled, Harrison slipped on the stool he was on and closed his eyes, waiting for the sudden and inevitable pain. He waited, and waited, only to feel nothing. Opening his eyes, he witnessed what was perhaps the most incredulous sight of his life:

His floating self, and an Elf.

It was not just any other elf for that matter, it was one he recognised. He didn't know how, but this wide-eyed, slack jawed, floppy-eared, three foot creature dressed in what could only be a miniature butler's uniform could only be his personal elf - Karot.

He watched as Karot's small hand gave a little twist before he was straightened up from his previous horizontal floating position. Before he could say anything, he stumbled back as a tiny form rocketed towards him.

"Young master! Young master is awake! Karot is happy, so happy!"

Finding no words he could say, Harrison did his best to comfort the extremely relieved and blubbering elf. Numbly, he allowed his hands to comfortingly pat the excited elf on his back as he tried to make sense of what was going on.

He had an elf hugging him.

An Elf.

A Harry Potter Elf.

Looking through the bathroom door and into his bedroom, he could only stare in disbelief as he made note of what had literally been staring in front of his face all along. With all the rich crimsons and glittering golds that decorated his room, there really was only one thing Harrison could say...

"Oh, shit."

'Have I been Isekai'ed? Where the heck was Truck-kun?!'