𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘
Halloween had finally arrived at Privet Drive. If it weren't obvious from the dance of falling leaves or the temperature drop, the extravagant decorations made sure not to let it be overlooked by no wandering soul. Every house was decorated in carved pumpkins and fake cobwebs, trying their best to compete with the seven-years-consecutive winners, Mr and Mrs Kim, Number Eight.
Mr and Mrs Kim were a couple of hardly sixty-years-olds that stood out for their odd outfits and speech. Their attires were mostly robes made of emerald green velvet and knitted details in pale blue colours, personal touches from Mrs Kim herself. Despite their unusual ways, they weren't shunned out by their neighbours. Although there were ones in particular, Mr and Mrs Dursley, Number Four, that seemed to always want to pick a fight whenever they met.
The elder couple turned a deaf ear to the spiteful comments, knowing the family simply knew no better than to blame others for their own lacking traits. However, they did not allow any sort of disrespect directed at their family. The Dursleys could very well find themselves losing their keys, having their hair turn grey for a few seconds, or be pushed backwards by a sudden blow of wind. All things that eventually left them blaming their scapegoat, their nephew Harry.
Young Harry didn't know the Kims beyond when he saw them walking around Privet Drive. Mr and Mrs Kim were not ones to stay put in their house. If it weren't for their particular clothing, he would have likely never cared or even noticed them outside of one or two awkward encounters. His uncle and aunt, however, had a silent war against them.
Halloween had never been much of a celebrated date in Privet Drive until Mr and Mrs Kim moved in nine years ago. Based on what Harry had overheard his uncle and aunt talk about, the Kims had initially put up a few modest decorations—just a couple of pudding-puking skeletons and wailing tombstones—of course, the Dursleys couldn't be any less. Over the years, more families joined the silent competition, but none outshone the Kims. How could they? Their Halloween decorations had grown with new 'obstacles' that made it a challenge for anyone attempting to reach the Kims' front door. As of last year, the quickest one took several minutes to get through. It was worthwhile, though. Once back to the safety of the street, not one kid would go without praising the sweets Mr Kim had given them.
Although Harry wasn't allowed to meander through Privet Drive during the Halloween nights, he spent most of the mornings helping his uncle set the decorations on their lawn. Each year, Uncle Vernon would boast about whatever they had acquired recently—hanging skeletons, carton tombstones, fake skulls—something new to put the Kims' to shame. It never worked.
Harry couldn't help but be glad his aunt pushed his uncle every year not to give up on the competition. Even Dudley, who often wouldn't mind it unless the Kims denied him any rights to sweets, had begged his father to buy some light-in-the-dark zombie hands he had seen advertised on television. That left Harry all alone on a peaceful Halloween morning, where he could peek outside of the window to gawk at the Kims' trinkets, spending hours on end wondering how such curious things could ever work.
A knock on the front door forced him to yank himself away from the window. He stepped down carefully, as he had seen Dudley miss his step one too many times while running down the staircase, and opened the door. On the other side, stood a tall, pale boy with features similar to the Kims. The boy, like the elder couple, wore a green velvet tunic. Harry's curiosity piqued as he wondered if the tunic's long and loose sleeves could serve as makeshift wings, allowing him to soar through the air if he swung them fast enough.
"It's my birthday," said the boy, leaving Harry to frown in utter confusion. "Grandpa said I had to share."
That was when Harry noticed the plate on the boy's hands, filled to the brim with bird-shaped cookies, among other sweets. "Usually, people say their names before offering something to a stranger, you know?"
"Right." The boy glanced back at the street, one hand rubbing his neck, hesitant. "Sorry. I'm not all that good at making friends. Grandpa said you were nice, so I should try."
Harry's cheeks turned bright pink. "Who's your grandpa, anyway?"
"Seok-jin Kim." The boy pointed towards two doors down the street. "Number Eight."
"So you're a Kim," said Harry, barely keeping himself from asking his arsenal of questions. "I've never seen you before."
"I accidentally blew up one of my essays." The Kim boy gave him half a shrug, then offered his hand. "I'm Jin-woo, by the way. If it gets tricky to say, my second name is Christopher. I go by either."
Harry accepted the handshake."Harry," he replied. "Harry Potter."
Jin-woo's eyes widened to their fullest as he exclaimed, "Wicked!" Trying to compensate for his earlier mistake, he continued, "You're officially my very first friend. Grandpa will be so proud... Well, he might yell at me first if you don't take a cookie."
Covering a faint chuckle, Harry picked out the most delicious-looking one from the bunch and shoved it in his mouth, hardly giving himself any time to chew or even taste it. That concerned Jin-woo, who vowed not to leave Number Four's front door until he could tell that Harry had his fill. It wouldn't take a seer to know that the kid in front of him hadn't a habit of eating extra meals, much less grab a bite of anything whenever he pleased.
With an hour left until noon, Jin-woo took a seat on the steps to Number Four's front door and helped himself to a couple of cookies. Harry couldn't help but burst into laughter when he was asked not to tell 'Grandpa Seok-jin', and Jin-woo followed suit as they struck a deal, sealing it with a shared chuckle.
"All right," said Jin-woo, glancing from the plate to Harry, "three bird-shaped cookies, six jelly-flavoured beans,andtwo of my mum's greatest dinosaurdonuts."
"Just one doughnut's fine," Harry replied, helping himself to exactly six flavoured beans.
As Jin-woo watched, a wave of pity washed over his heart. If Harry had picked a couple or even a dozen more, he wouldn't have complained. One of the few reasons he was there, apart from his grandfather's orders, was to spoil the poor boy a little. It had worked for the most part, but whatever the Dursleys had done to Harry was nothing a few cookies could fix.
"You'll try out my grandpa's obstacle course tonight, won't you?" Jin-woo asked, his head motioning over to his grandfather's house, where a tall and frail-looking man struggled to hang a couple of pudding-puking spiders off the lowers branches of a tree. "Wonder what bet my dad's lost now. He doesn't like the puking decorations. Thinks they'll hurt our skin."
"That's your father?" Harry arched his back and pushed his head forward, trying to have a good look at part of the yearly visitors to Privet Drive's Number Eight. "You look nothing alike."
"My sister and I take after our mum," replied Jin-woo. "But we're tall like him. Mum's on the shorter side. Really scary, though. I've seen many adults Disapparate after crossing her."
"Disapparate?" Harry frowned out of confusion.
"Ah, verdad," Jin-woo mumbled to himself. "I mean, like, they ran off, you know? People like them think they can say whatever they want about those different from them. Call them 'outsiders', and other things that might as well be slurs, and then, like,die of fearwhen they're paid back with the same disrespect."
"My uncle and aunt don't like people that are different either," said Harry with a distant look. "I've heard them call your grandparents 'freaks'."
"Well, that they are." Jin-woo laughed. "The proudest freaks. Had they not been, my mother would have gone straight to an orphanage, or sent away somewhere. Freaks is a kind word when used by determined people… determined? Certain! I meant 'certain people'. I'd be proud to be one of those freaks."
Harry glanced at him up and down with a smile."You're on the right track."
In the midst of Jin-woo's attempt to thank him, his father's voice broke the silence, calling out his name. His grandparents' house came into view when he turned around, a sight that made him smile as he saw the elaborate decorations that were all ready to give a fright to the many trick-or-treaters who would come at night. However, there were other obligations that demanded his presence before he could even consider the obstacle course. His family dinner, for starters.
"Voy!" He shouted, receiving a faint nod for an answer before he turned to face Harry. "Sorry, have to go. See you tonight."
With the words trapped in his mouth, Harry was left behind, a mix of frustration and disappointment eating away his thoughts. Of course, he'd be delighted to attend the obstacle course, but his Uncle Vernon would never allow it. Trouble had an attraction to him, following after wherever he went. He had lost count of how many times bags of flour or eggs boxes had unexpectedly dropped onto his cousin's path, occasionally falling directly to his head.
To Jin-woo, such things were a regular part of his everyday life. In such a hurry to reach his grandparents' house, he didn't even flinch when the front door swung open on its own, or when Òliba, his grandparents' owl, flew past his head to leave a letter on his grandmother's lap.
"What's this, precious?" Grandma Ha-eun, always eager to please, provided Òliba with an endless supply of pets, which the owl adored. "Letter from Dumbledore? How cute, that man, really. Thinks he can still boss us around."
Despite the half dozen animals blocking her way, Jin-woo's mother, Eun-ji, managed to get through them and leave the plates filled with cookies and sweets on the dinner table. She exhaled, with her eyes wandering off to some faraway land. It took mere moments for Xavier, Jin-woo's father, to appear beside her and press his lips against her temple.
"Where has Ji-yoon run off to now? Don't tell me she's set off another of those wet-start fireworks on the Dursleys," said his mother, her eyes blinking peacefully back to reality while in her husband's embrace. "Little devil took after her grandfather. She'll give me a heart-attack one of these days."
His father placed another kiss on her forehead."Your father gifted her a Muggle-friendly book of pranks,cariño. I suspect we'll have the Dursleys banging on our door any day."
The fireplace crackled, sending sparks flying into the air and briefly illuminating the ashy ground with immense green flames. With her flowery engraved crane in hand — which she carried for muggle elderly benefits alone — Iaia Cruz made her graceful way down. She twisted the upper left dandelion, and a faint blue light engulfed it until there was nothing but a wand standing in its place. A single flick of her wrist transformed the living room into a sea of presents.
Another row of green flames took over the fireplace once Iaia Cruz stepped down to greet everyone, placing two kisses on each cheek for good measure. Avi Antonio eagerly jumped over the little step of the fireplace, his wand pointed at his prosthetic arm, which detached itself from his body and began setting up'muggle' paper decorations, filling the air with the scent of fresh ink.
"Where's the birthday girl?" Avi Antonio turned his head in every direction, but could only find Jin-woo, hopelessly accepting his iaia's strong and noisy kisses. "Ran away, has she now? Always so excited when she visits."
"I'll say." Grandpa Seok-jin laughed, seated at Grandma Ha-eun's side while clutching the Daily Prophet in his hands. "Glad I pulled through and wrote that darned book. She might be learning muggle maths and playing football instead of Quidditch, but she's not lost her love for magic."
"Everyone quiet!" Iaia Cruz commanded, causing the living room to fill with an eerie, deathly silence. "Así me gusta."
"Can't believe it!" Grandma Ha-eun exclaimed happily, glancing over to Iaia Cruz, both sporting the widest of grins. "Merlin's beard, Cruz! That Dumbledore can be useful sometimes."
"What happened now?" His mother asked, rubbing his father's hand nervously. "Jin-woo's only just turned thirteen today. The Ministry can't possibly punish him, right? Mum, you know dad did far worse than blowing up a potion at his age. Blimey, I bet there are worse thirteen-year-olds than him running amok in the wizarding schools."
Grandma Ha-eun showed her daughter a gentle smile, accompanied by the finest use of her sweet voice."It's all right, dear. He won't get punished. Your old foolish father will, at its due time."
Per general petition, Grandma Ha-eun held up a letter with the words"HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY" printed in bold letters, with the name "ALBUS DUMBLEDORE" underneath. The image of Hogwarts — the old, beautiful, magical Hogwarts — still lingered in Jin-woo's mind when his grandmother read the first half of the letter. It was a standard acceptance letter for the next term, which began on the first of September 1991. But once in the second half, it became note to let know the family how Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had convinced the Ministry of Magic to be lenient with their family for their grandson's mistake.
Grandpa Seok-jin put down the Daily Prophet to scowl freely at the last part of the letter."No good comes from owing that man, I tell you. Next thing you know, he asks us to give up our lives for young Potter."
"A ver, hasn't he already?" joked Iaia Cruz, twisting the dandelion back to its place to leave her cane hanging off the table's side. "We're oldblokes, aren't we Seok-jin? What sacrifices can we make? No, it's not us who he's after."
Jin-woo shrugged it off."As long as all he wants is my favour, it can't hurt. Besides, doesn't it say that they'll remove Grandpa's Seok-jin's rights to home-school me after this term ends?"
Avi Antonio attached his arm back in place to pick up his favourite dog,Señor, the one with the loudest barks and the buggiest of eyes across the three chihuahua siblings he and Iaia Cruz had adopted recently."Por las Barbas de Merlín, Jin-woo, that's how it always starts! Has your foolish grandfather taught you nothing? You ought to be learning more than magic.Chicoslike you get eaten alive in the real world. It starts with a small favour every time. Then, it grows, and soon you're facing a mountain-high of a favour without you knowing!"
At the base of the stairs, a soft chuckle emerged, echoing through the air. There, under a pair of aged and unmoving portraits of his grandparents and a younger depiction of his mother hung, stood Jin-woo's sister, Ji-yoon. "Lectured again? I'd be ashamed, Jin-woo. And here I thought the troublemaker out of the two of us was me."
"I haven't got the chance to do nothing," replied Jin-woo, exasperated. "Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts's Headmaster, sent a letter. The Ministry is not pleased with me, but he convinced them to let Grandpa teach me for the rest of the term. No school would take me when the term's already started, anyway."
Ji-yoon marched over to his side, sporting a pleased smile as he welcomed her with a side hug."Well, that's good, isn't it? I mean, the home-schooling thing was great. We got to see you more often than if you'd gone to a boarding school, but, you know, you've got no friends."
"Thanks for pointing that out," mumbled Jin-woo. "Though for your information, I made one today. It'll take another year until he knows he's a wizard, but it counts."
"You made friends with a ten-year-old?" Ji-yoon stared at him with a blank expression. "You're thirteen! You need thirteen-year-old friends, not ten-year-olds! And, let me guess, his parents are Muggles like me."
"Not exactly," Jin-woo replied, but his sister cut him off before he could continue.
She arched her eyebrows."Squibs, like mum and dad?"
"It's Harry Potter," he said calmly. "Remember him? Nephew of that couple in Number Four?"
"Oh, that boy!" Ji-yoon looked up, as if the ceiling held all her memories of Harry. "Poor boy has had a hard life from the start. I don't think I've ever seen him try the obstacle course."
Iaia Cruz, with a commanding presence, clapped twice, capturing everyone's attention. Once having twisted the small dandelion to the side, she aimed her wand at the fireplace, its crackling wood filling the room with warmth and a faint scent of smoke. With a single word, the flames grew larger. She tossed the letter over to them, watching as it transformed into ash, carried away by the flickering waves of fire.
"We've got to celebrate," she said, her lips briefly pulling upwards into a smile."Cumpleañeros, set the table. Seok-jin, stop sulking and help your daughter bring the Cookie Towers. Xavier, be a darling and help Ha-eun bring out the food."
The twins playfully scowled at their father and stuck their tongues out at him as they made their way to the kitchen. They couldn't help but feel a little unfair about how Iaia Cruz always softened her tone when speaking to their father, considering he had always been their iaia's favourite. It was common for grandparents to favour their grandchildren more than their own children, but their grandparents, from both sides, didn't seem to fit into that category. Their Grandpa even once told them that if they wanted to be the favourite, they would have to earn it.
Their mother kissed their heads fondly."If it matters, you'll always be your father and I's favourites."
"Thanks, mum." The twins chorused, a soft twinkle in their eyes.
"Let's have fun today, shall we?" Their father paused beside them, giving Jin-woo a gentle, reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Heard your Grandma saying she'd like to take you to Diagon Alley. We've got to buy everything that got burned up in the explosion. It would be really helpful if you could get your class schedule back on track.Cuanto antes mejor."
"Remind me what that means," said their mother, causing her children to chuckle.
"The sooner, the better,hermosa," their father replied, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Would you like me to translate that one for you, too?"
"No," their mother shook her head, biting back a smile, "I get the idea,hermosa."
When her own children and husband burst out laughing, Eun-ji assumed she had said something wrong, yet couldn't help but join in. In a way or another, it felt as if it had been way too long since the last time her family embraced joy to its fullest, years since her childhood home had been so full of life. She had her children to thank. There was no doubt about that in her mind. Her young and frail gifts that she would give her life to protect, her little babies that, each day, grew and grew, and had already passed her height. If there were ever those who dared to threaten them, they ought to fear her wrath.