It was afternoon when Harry woke up. He winced in pain as he tentatively tried to move his wrist. ‘Darn, how am I supposed to go for lessons on Monday when I cant even write now?' he thought irritably. All the children aged five and above are required to go to school, as it is part of the town's welfare system to provide an education for all, even orphans. For that he was grateful. It gave him something to look forward to in his dreary life at the orphanage. And it gave him a chance to get away from the caretaker.

Plus he enjoyed reading and learning, very much so. While other kids his age would have been delighted playing with toys and running about, he'd rather prefer to sit in solitude and read quietly. Which is why Harry do not have many friends his age, because he keeps to himself often and do not interact with the others much. Daniel is an exception.

~Flashback~

"Get the boy!" shouted Derrick to his gang of friends. They ran and panted breathlessly, trying to catch the little boy. Five year old Harry looked back and his eyes widened as he saw them catching up, ‘oh no, oh no…' he thought frantically. He continued running as fast as he could, dodging their beefy hands which were grabbing at him. Luckily he was small and light on his feet, an advantage over the bullies' big size and clumsiness. He abruptly came to a stop in front of a bricked wall. Dead end.

‘Uh oh… stupid, stupid, stupid…' he berated himself for unknowingly running into a deserted alley.

The bullies caught up and advanced menacingly, cracking their knuckles in anticipation. "Now we've got you, boy," Derrick said smugly.

Harry's eyes darted around for an escape route but there was none as Derrick and his gang of bullies had blocked the whole path.

"You can't get away this time. Though goodness knows how you got away the previous times…" he trailed off.

Perhaps that was why they kept chasing Harry. He always got away, seeming to vanish around the corner. These thwarted attempts at bullying had only fueled their determination to get him. Harry barely knows how he got away too. It was a big mystery to him.

Like that time, one moment he was on the ground, running from them and the next moment he was on the roof, safely out of their reach.

Then there was once when he was cornered with the boys advancing on him, yet they could not get within 5 feet of him. There seemed to be an invisible wall preventing them from getting closer. Harry had actually closed his eyes, waiting for the first blow, but it never came. Cautiously opening his eyes, he saw the boys beating at the air, but could not get through. He was bewildered, but quickly became amused at their attempts to break down a wall that no one could see.

Harry could not figure out how it happened, it was like… like magic.

"…nothing and no one can save you now," Derrick finished evilly. He gave a signal to his friends and one punched him in the stomach. "Help!" was all Harry managed to scream before one of them covered his mouth.

"Hey! What are you trying to do?" came a voice from behind. The boys turned, and saw Daniel. They paled and started to run off. But Daniel grabbed Derrick by the shirt- front and pulled him up, eye to eye with him. "Shame on you for bullying a five year old kid. Pick on someone your own size if you have the guts. Don't let me catch you doing it again or else…" with that unspoken threat plain in his voice, Daniel let Derrick go.

"Yes-yess sir..." Derrick stammered before scrambling off.

Harry watched all this in amazement. For once, Derrick is actually scared of someone.

Daniel approached him, saying, "Bullies like Derrick are cowards at heart. He won't dare to pick a fight with me just because I'm older and bigger. But it's ok now; he won't bother you in future."

Daniel stretched out a hand, "Come on, I'll walk you back."

Harry looked at the hand uncertainly, hesitant to trust a total stranger. He looked up and saw an encouraging smile on Daniel's face. All doubts vanished as he knew in his heart that Daniel would not hurt him. And thus, begin a friendship of sorts between Harry and Daniel, which gradually became ‘kinship' as Daniel took Harry under his wing, ‘adopting' him as a younger brother.

~End Flashback~

"Well, how do I write with a fractured wrist?" Harry pondered. The door creaked, alerting him to someone entering. Daniel looked at the serious expression on Harry face and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh just thinking how I'm gonna write with this." Harry replied absently, lifting his bandaged wrist.

"You'll have to wait for it to heal. School work can wait."

"What! And miss all those lessons? Absolutely not! This could take a few weeks to heal, may be even 2 months." Harry said in despair at being deprived of weeks or even months of learning.

"I don't see an alternative. Unless you want to learn to use your left hand to write." Daniel suggested offhandedly.

Harry jumped up and hugged him in excitement. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Daniel, you're brilliant!"

"Huh? What did I say?" Daniel asked in confusion.

"Learn to write with my left hand!" Harry exclaimed, and continued jumping about, happy with the solution.

"But it'll take time-" Daniel said before Harry cut him off, "Faster than it'll take for my wrist to heal. I can start now and use the weekend to practice."

Daniel thought for a moment, and said nothing more, conceding the argument to Harry. For he knows that once Harry has made up his mind, it would be useless trying to persuade him to abandon the idea.

Over the next two days, Harry spent most of his time in the room, practicing how to write with his left hand. Keleman had apparently forgotten all about him and it was a relief that he did not notice Harry's absence at mealtimes. However that does not mean that Harry is starving, as Daniel would smuggle food to him.

His bruises were fading, though his wrist had not fully mended. And his progress with learning to write with his left hand was fast; he would still be slower than others, but that level of speed was sufficient in class. It was quite an accomplishment, considering that he only had two days to practice, and knowing Harry, probably even nights as he stayed up late.

As always, Harry was glad to go to school, even with a fractured wrist, and this morning was no different. He loves books and the knowledge one could gain from reading them. It was like being in a totally new and exciting world when one was engrossed in a book. With books, he could forget the harsh realities of this world, and gain the upper hand with the power of knowledge.

His teachers had been amazed at his reading abilities at the age of five when he first started attending school. His pronunciation of words was fairly accurate, and he had a good memory of everything he had read. This was because he had taught himself how to read before attending school, borrowing textbooks or storybooks from the older kids, listening to the way adults speak, and the way words were sounded. Harry had studiously read his way through the school library at an age where other boys were still getting used to sounding out their letters. All his teachers thought that he was a truly remarkable boy, child genius even. But he did not like all that attention, keeping quiet during class, only listening and observing in silence. In tests, he sometimes deliberately made mistakes so that his score would not be too high. After some time, all the fuss about him faded away as he hid his talent, staying in the background.

His form teacher, Ms Mackenzie, was not so easily fooled and would observe him from time to time, but this morning she did not say anything if she noticed him writing with his left hand. Harry sighed in relief at that. He did not fancy having to answer those uncomfortable questions about where he got his injuries. Probably she thought he fell from a tree when playing with the other children or something. He snorted at that notion. She would have never thought that or believed it if she knew him well enough.