Disclaimer : I don't know Harry Potter or Ultraman except some oc's.
Chapter 2: Discovery*
The next morning, Harry woke up feeling restless. The conversation from the previous evening had left him with a mix of hope and uncertainty. He needed to clear his head, so he decided to take a walk into town.
The day was bright and clear, a rare bit of sunshine that felt almost like a good omen. As Harry walked down the familiar streets of Little Whinging, he passed the houses and shops he had grown accustomed to over the years. Everything seemed the same, yet different, as if the normalcy of his surroundings was now tinged with a new layer of introspection.
After a while, he reached the town center, where various shops and cafes were lined up along the street. Harry wandered aimlessly, his thoughts still preoccupied with the strange shift in his home life.
It was then that he spotted something unusual—a shop he had never noticed before. It was a small, somewhat unassuming store with a vibrant, eye-catching sign that read "Toku House." The sign was adorned with bright colors and featured images of various iconic tokusatsu characters: bold superheroes with distinctive suits and helmets.
Harry was instantly intrigued. The sign had a certain nostalgic charm, reminiscent of the Japanese superhero shows he had grown up watching. He felt a pang of excitement. Could this shop be related to Ultraman, the series he had become fascinated with recently?
Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The interior of Toku House was a treasure trove of tokusatsu memorabilia. Shelves lined with action figures, model kits, posters, and DVDs filled the space. The walls were decorated with colorful banners showcasing heroes from different series—Super Sentai, Kamen Rider, Ultraman, and more. The atmosphere was lively, with a mix of bright colors and bold designs that made Harry feel like he had stepped into a different world.
Behind the counter stood a middle-aged man with a friendly face, wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the Ultraman logo. He looked up from his work as Harry entered.
"Welcome to Toku House!" the man said with a warm smile. "Can I help you find something specific?"
Harry hesitated for a moment, then said, "I was just passing by and saw your shop. I'm really into Ultraman and the tokusatsu series. I didn't know there was a place like this around here."
The shopkeeper's eyes lit up. "Ah, a fellow fan! We have a wide selection of Ultraman merchandise. Are you interested in anything particular, or just browsing?"
Harry's face brightened with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm just browsing for now, but I'd love to learn more about the different Ultraman series. I've seen some of the newer stuff, but I'd like to explore the older series too."
The shopkeeper nodded, clearly pleased. "You're in luck! We have a special section dedicated to the Showa Era Ultraman series. They're classics and really show the evolution of the character. Let me show you."
He led Harry to a corner of the shop where vintage Ultraman memorabilia was displayed. Old DVDs, action figures, and even some original promotional materials from the Showa Era lined the shelves. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the array of items.
"This is amazing," Harry said, running his fingers over a set of Ultraman action figures. "I've only seen some of these in clips online. To see them in person… it's incredible."
The shopkeeper grinned. "It's always exciting to see someone new discover these classics. Ultraman has a rich history, and each series has its own unique charm. If you're interested, I can recommend some of the most iconic episodes or even show you some of the episodes on our old VHS tapes."
Harry's excitement was palpable. "That would be great. I'd love to see what the early series were like."
The shopkeeper nodded and led Harry to a small viewing area at the back of the shop. There was an old-fashioned TV with a VHS player connected to it, and he began to set up a tape.
As the screen flickered to life and the opening credits of an old Ultraman episode rolled, Harry settled into a seat, mesmerized. The footage was grainy, but the charm and excitement of the Showa Era Ultraman were unmistakable. The battles, the special effects, and the heroic themes were all there, and Harry found himself completely absorbed.
"This is incredible," Harry said, his eyes fixed on the screen. "I've never seen anything like this before."
The shopkeeper smiled. "The Showa Era Ultraman has a special place in many fans' hearts. It's where it all started, and there's a lot of history and nostalgia in those early episodes."
As Harry continued to watch, he felt a renewed sense of wonder and excitement. The world of Ultraman, with its heroes and epic battles, seemed like a perfect escape from the complexities of his current life. He knew that this summer was shaping up to be different, and discovering Toku House and its treasures was just the beginning.
After watching a few episodes and chatting with the shopkeeper about the different series, Harry left Toku House with a small bag of Ultraman merchandise—a few action figures, a DVD set of the Showa Era series, and a brightly colored poster for his room. The shopkeeper wished him well, and Harry promised to return soon.
As Harry walked back to Privet Drive, the weight of the day's discoveries felt like a welcome distraction from his worries. The vibrant world of Ultraman and tokusatsu had given him a new sense of excitement, and he couldn't wait to dive deeper into the adventures of his newfound heroes.
As Harry walked back to Privet Drive, his thoughts were filled with the vivid imagery of Ultraman and the other tokusatsu heroes he had just discovered. The town seemed almost dull in comparison to the colorful, action-packed world he had just glimpsed. The excitement of finding a place like Toku House in such a mundane area felt like discovering a hidden treasure.
The bag in his hand was heavier than it seemed, filled with the promise of new stories and adventures. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending his evenings watching the old Ultraman episodes, immersing himself in the battles between giants of light and monstrous kaiju. For once, he had something to look forward to during the long, oppressive summer at the Dursleys.
As he approached Number Four, Privet Drive, Harry noticed something strange. The usual chatter of neighbors gossiping or children playing in their gardens was absent. Instead, there was an unusual quietness that made him feel slightly uneasy. He dismissed it as a coincidence—after all, the residents of Little Whinging had never really been the most lively bunch.
When Harry reached the front door, he was surprised to find it slightly ajar. Cautiously, he pushed it open and stepped inside. The house was quiet, but he could hear faint voices coming from the living room. Curious, he walked toward the sound.
Inside the living room, Aunt Petunia was sitting on the sofa, her face pale and drawn. Sitting across from her was Yolanda, who looked as though she had just arrived. The two women were deep in conversation, their voices low but tense.
Harry hesitated at the doorway, unsure whether to announce his presence or retreat upstairs unnoticed. But before he could decide, Yvvone looked up and saw him.
"Harry!" she said with a warm smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're back. Did you have a good time in town?"
Harry nodded, holding up the bag from Toku House. "Yeah, I found this cool shop that sells stuff from Japanese superhero shows. It was pretty interesting."
Petunia looked up at the mention of a 'cool shop,' but there was no disapproval in her expression—just a distant curiosity. "Did you get anything?" she asked, almost as if trying to sound interested.
"A few things," Harry replied simply, keeping his tone neutral.
Yolanda glanced at Petunia, then back at Harry. "Why don't you sit with us for a bit? We've been talking about a few things that you might want to hear."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What things?"
Petunia hesitated, her hands wringing nervously in her lap. "Just… about Vernon and… everything that's happened."
Harry's stomach twisted at the mention of Vernon's name, but he remained outwardly calm. "I think I'd rather go upstairs, if that's alright."
"Harry, please," Yvvone interjected gently, "just for a few minutes. We won't keep you long."
There was a sincerity in Yvvone's voice that made Harry pause. Reluctantly, he walked over to the armchair and sat down, setting the bag of merchandise by his feet. He noticed how Petunia avoided looking directly at him, her gaze fixed on the floor instead.
"What is it?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Yvvone took a deep breath, her expression softening. "Harry, I know this summer has been difficult for you. Losing Vernon… even if you didn't have the best relationship with him… it's still a lot to process."
Harry said nothing, his face impassive. Yvvone continued, choosing her words carefully. "Your aunt and I have been talking, and… well, it's clear that things haven't been easy for you here. I know that Petunia regrets how some things were handled in the past."
Petunia flinched at the word 'regret,' but she remained silent, her eyes still downcast.
"Regrets?" Harry finally spoke, his tone carrying a hint of bitterness. "That's one way to put it."
Yvvone glanced at Petunia again, silently urging her to speak. Petunia finally raised her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Harry," Petunia began, her voice shaky, "I… I know I haven't been a good aunt to you. I know that Vernon… and I… we didn't treat you the way we should have. We… we were wrong."
Harry's heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He wasn't ready to forgive, not by a long shot, but hearing Petunia acknowledge her wrongs was… unexpected.
Harry felt a strange mixture of emotions—anger, resentment, and a small, almost imperceptible feeling of pity. He looked at Petunia, really looked at her for the first time in years. The once stern, cold woman now seemed fragile, as if the weight of her own guilt was too much to bear.
Yvvone placed a comforting hand on Petunia's shoulder before turning to Harry. "She's trying, Harry. She's really trying to make things right. I know it doesn't undo the past, but…"
"It doesn't," Harry interjected, his voice firmer now. "It doesn't undo anything."
Petunia nodded, wiping at her eyes with trembling hands. "I know. I just… I wanted you to know that I'm sorry. Truly."
Harry sat back in his chair, processing everything. A part of him wanted to lash out, to tell her that sorry wasn't enough. But another part of him, the part that had always longed for some form of acknowledgment, was… conflicted.
"Can I go now?" Harry asked, his voice void of emotion.
Yvvone looked at him with sympathy, but she nodded. "Of course, Harry. Just… think about what we've said. Please."
Without another word, Harry stood up, grabbed his bag, and headed for the stairs. As he climbed to his room, he could hear Petunia's muffled sobs behind him, but he didn't stop. He didn't turn around.
When he reached his room, Harry closed the door quietly behind him and sat on his bed, the bag from Toku House still clutched in his hand. He stared at the wall, his mind racing with everything that had just happened.
He didn't know how to feel. He didn't know what to think. But one thing was clear—this summer was turning out to be far more complicated than he had ever expected.
As Harry sat on his bed, he felt a growing restlessness. The conversation with Petunia and Yvvone had stirred up a mix of emotions, leaving him feeling both confused and unsettled. He needed something to focus on, something that would help him clear his mind.
His eyes wandered around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. His room, though small, was his sanctuary. Posters of Quidditch teams, magical creatures, and various Hogwarts memorabilia adorned the walls. Amidst the clutter of his belongings, he noticed an old box tucked away in the corner of his closet. The box had been there for years, hidden beneath a pile of dusty old clothes and other forgotten items.
Curiosity piqued, Harry stood up and made his way to the closet. He pulled the box out and set it on his bed. Dust danced in the air as he opened the lid, revealing a jumble of old toys, notebooks, and other childhood memorabilia. As he sifted through the contents, a familiar object caught his eye—a well-worn sketchpad.
Harry's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't seen this sketchpad in years. It was filled with drawings he had done when he was younger, a hobby he had abandoned when life had become more complicated. He picked it up carefully, brushing off the dust, and opened it to the first page.
The pages were filled with a variety of sketches. Some were simple doodles of magical creatures and scenes from Hogwarts, but as he flipped through the pages, he found something that made him pause. There, among the drawings of fantastical creatures and spell diagrams, was a series of sketches of a hero—an Ultraman-like figure.
The sketches were rough and imperfect, but they conveyed the essence of the character Harry had imagined: a muscular hero clad in a suit of armor with white, red, and blue accents. The armor was adorned with intricate patterns and a central blue gem on the chest. The helmet had an oval crest and prominent eyes that gave the character a determined, almost regal appearance.
Harry's fingers traced over the drawings, and a small smile played on his lips. The sketches were a reminder of a simpler time, when he had found joy in drawing and dreaming about heroes. He had drawn these images as a joke, a whimsical fantasy inspired by his love for tokusatsu heroes, never imagining that his dream might become more than just a pastime.
He continued to flip through the pages, rediscovering sketches of the hero in various dynamic poses—fighting monsters, soaring through the sky, and striking heroic stances. Each drawing was filled with the kind of enthusiasm and creativity that had been buried under years of neglect and hardship.
Harry's mind raced with thoughts of the previous day's discovery at Toku House. The detailed designs of the Ultraman figures he had seen and the excitement he felt from watching the old Showa Era episodes seemed to come together with the sketches in his pad. It was as if the dream he had half-jokingly drawn had taken on a new life, becoming intertwined with his real-world fascination.
He picked up a pencil and began to sketch on a blank page of the sketchpad. This time, he added more detail to his Ultraman hero, incorporating elements from the action figures and posters he had seen. He imagined his hero in various action poses, battling kaiju and saving the day, each stroke of the pencil bringing his vision to life.
Lost in his work, Harry lost track of time. The rhythmic motion of the pencil and the creation of his hero on paper provided a much-needed distraction from the complexities of his current life. For a few hours, he was immersed in a world where he could be the hero he had always dreamed of.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light through his window, Harry finally set down his pencil. He looked at the sketches with a sense of satisfaction. The drawings were more detailed and vibrant than he had remembered. The character on the page seemed almost alive, ready to leap out and face any challenge.
With a contented sigh, Harry closed the sketchpad and placed it back in the box, along with the other items he had found. He knew that his drawings represented more than just a pastime; they were a connection to a part of himself he had nearly forgotten.
As he settled back onto his bed, the weight of the day's events seemed a little lighter. The creative outlet had provided him with a sense of peace, and the idea of bringing his hero to life, even if only on paper, felt like a small victory.
Harry glanced out the window, the last rays of sunlight casting a soft glow over the town. Despite the tumultuous summer and the ongoing challenges at home, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The dreams of being a hero, both in his sketches and in the world of Ultraman, offered him a glimmer of hope and a reminder of who he wanted to be.
With that thought in mind, Harry closed his eyes and let the comforting rhythm of his own heartbeat lull him into a peaceful sleep, ready to face whatever challenges tomorrow might bring.