Rescued by Lamia: Chapter 2

Harry could barely keep his eyes open, though his mind whirled with excitement and nerves. Over the past few days, everything had happened so quickly: first, he got a new guardian in Miia, then he received three new outfits that actually fit him, and now he was on a flight to Japan—a country he’d never heard of until recently. He had no idea what to expect there, except that Ms. Smith had some “arrangements” in place for Miia’s housing situation. As he glanced around the dim interior of the airplane, Harry’s gaze flicked to the closest window. All he could see were dark clouds drifting past.

He was wrapped up in a large blanket that Miia insisted he share with her. The temperature in the cabin, while comfortable for most passengers, felt cold to Miia’s snake half. Lamias, being partially cold-blooded, needed warmth—especially when flying so high above the ground where the air thinned and chilled.

“B-Brr… C-Chilly…” Miia chattered, tucking the blanket up to her chin.

Harry peered up at her with worry, noticing how her shoulders trembled. “Miss Miia, are you okay? You’re shaking.”

She hugged him close, shivering but smiling all the same. “Don’t worry about me, sweetie. I’m fine—just a little cold!” She gently coiled part of her tail around him, lifting him so his face nearly brushed her cheek. Nuzzling him affectionately, she let out a playful sigh. “Now you, on the other hand, feel so toasty.”

Harry blushed and stammered, “S-Sorry… I—I’m just—”

Miia chuckled, patting his back. “Nothing to be sorry about, darling. You’re keeping me warm.” She gave him another gentle squeeze, her movements lulling him against her neck. “Why don’t you try to take a little nap, hm? It’ll help the flight go faster.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but a yawn escaped instead. “B-But—”

Miia’s voice dropped into a soothing murmur. “Yes, yes… I think you want to sleep.”

He let out a second yawn, blinking rapidly. It had been a grueling rush just to reach the airport in London, and all the newness—people speaking different languages, Ms. Smith’s constant phone calls, trying to understand their tickets—had left him exhausted. Still, an anxious little knot tightened in his stomach.

“Y-You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?” Harry whispered, pressing his cheek against her shoulder.

Miia’s expression softened. She understood the root of his fear: after all, he’d been abandoned and hurt so many times. She ran a comforting hand through his messy black hair. “Of course I’ll be here,” she promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

A wave of relief swept over Harry. He snuggled against her, safe in her warmth and the enveloping blankets. “Th-Thank you…” he mumbled, already drifting.

Miia felt his body slacken as he fell asleep, and she kept him cocooned in her coils so he wouldn’t be jostled by any turbulence. Sighing contentedly, she let her gaze wander to the airplane window, where faint city lights flickered far below. I wonder what this Kimihito person is like… she mused. Will he be nice? Will he let Harry stay with me? And… oh, is he cute?

Her imagination rushed ahead. She momentarily forgot that Harry was sleeping, letting out an excited squeal. Harry stirred, giving a little whimper. Miia hastily clapped a hand over her own mouth. “Shh,” she cooed, rocking him gently. “No, no, it’s okay, go back to sleep, sweetie.”

He barely opened his eyes before exhaustion pulled him under once more. Miia muffled her giggle, settling back. Perhaps she, too, should take a quick nap. They still had some hours left in the flight to Tokyo, and Ms. Smith had said it would be a long drive from the airport afterward. Miia closed her eyes, hugging Harry close, and drifted off.

Meanwhile—

“Papi, for the last time!” A harried government worker jogged through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo, exasperation clear in his voice. “Come back here! You need a proper host—running off on your own is against the rules!”

From a high rooftop, a petite blue-haired harpy crouched, giggling behind one feathered wing. “He’ll never find me up here,” she whispered, raising her bright eyes just over the ledge. She was high enough that the busy traffic below looked like toys. “They’re so stuffy and boooring! I just wanna play!”

The poor government agent paced the narrow street, hands cupped around his mouth. “Papi! I see you—get down!”

Papi’s eyes went wide. “Oopsie!” she squeaked, spreading her wings to flutter across to another rooftop, staying just beyond his reach. She stifled more giggles as she flitted away. She had no intention of going back into official custody anytime soon; real freedom tasted far too sweet.

Some hours later—

At Narita Airport, Miia yawned as she stepped off the plane, her tail coiling in lazy arcs behind her. Her arms cradled a drowsy Harry, who pressed his face against her chest to block out the sudden brightness of the overhead lights. Ms. Smith followed in her usual unhurried manner, sipping a cup of coffee and checking messages on her phone.

“Let’s see,” Ms. Smith drawled, flicking a finger across the screen. “We should have a taxi waiting for us.”

Harry raised his head enough to peer around. Everything felt dauntingly loud and crowded. A swirl of Japanese words echoed over the PA system, announcing arrivals and departures he couldn’t understand. “M-Miss Miia,” he whispered, tugging gently at her shirt, “I don’t know what anyone’s saying.”

Miia offered him a sympathetic smile. “Oh… right.” She glanced at Ms. Smith. “We never taught him any Japanese, did we?”

Smith blew on her coffee. “Forgot that detail, huh? Well, it’s not too late.”

Harry’s tired eyes flicked from Miia to Ms. Smith. “T-Teach me Japanese?”

Miia rubbed circles on his back. “Yes, sweetie! I’ll help you with the basics, so you can understand what people are saying.”

“Okay…” Harry murmured, though it still intimidated him. He clung to Miia’s arm as they made their way to the baggage claim and then out to the taxi line.

The cab driver rattled off a polite question in Japanese. Ms. Smith answered in kind, promptly sticking her legs up on the passenger seat as if she owned the vehicle, causing Miia and Harry to sweatdrop in mild embarrassment. The driver muttered something under his breath—presumably about foreigners—and took off through the congested roads.

Tokyo’s skyline, though partially concealed by late-night shadows, still sparkled with hundreds of lights. Harry stared out at unfamiliar signs illuminated in vibrant neon. It felt like a dream: this massive, bustling city was so different from Little Whinging. Beside him, Miia pulled the blanket tight around her shoulders, the occasional shiver still shaking her tail.

After a long drive, the taxi paused outside a modest, two-story home on a quieter street. Ms. Smith scrolled quickly through her phone. “Alright, this is the address I got for Kimihito Kurusu. We’re, oh, maybe 80% sure this is right.”

Miia scrunched her face. “Eighty percent sure?”

“That’s good enough,” Ms. Smith answered nonchalantly, bounding up to knock on the door. Miia slithered close behind, and Harry followed, holding her hand. Each rap of Ms. Smith’s knuckles on the door made Harry’s heart flutter. Is this man kind? Will he like us?

At last, the door opened. A young man with dark hair peered out, looking genuinely surprised to see them. “Um… hello?”

Smith bustled inside without preamble, heading straight for the kitchen as though it were her own place. “You’re Kimihito Kurusu, right?”

He blinked. “Uh… yes. That’s me.”

“Great!” Smith called over her shoulder, rummaging for a coffee mug. “Your new roommate just arrived. Possibly housemates, plural.”

Miia lingered in the entryway, feeling the chill of night air on her scales. She folded her arms around herself and Harry. “H-Hi,” she managed, voice trembling partly from cold and partly from nerves.

Kimihito’s features softened. “Oh, you look freezing!” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand. “Come on in. You can warm up—there’s a heater in the living room.”

Miia accepted his handshake timidly, her tail swishing. His sincerity was a refreshing change after the Dursleys. Harry peeked from behind her coils, and Kimihito blinked. “Oh! I…didn’t know there’d be a child, too,” he said with a friendly smile. “He’s welcome, of course. It’s just unexpected.”

Smith shrugged, topping off her coffee. “Fine print probably didn’t mention it. Anyway, details aside, you’ll host Miia. And the kid is named Harry.”

Kimihito let out a low whistle, eyeing the pair. “Well, no problem from me. I only have two bedrooms, though, so you’ll have to share, or someone takes the couch. We can talk about renovations for your tail and all that later, Miss Miia.”

Miia shivered, nodding. She clutched Harry, burying her face in his messy black hair as she tried to regain warmth. “I…I don’t mind sharing with Harry,” she murmured.

Kimihito’s eyes fell on the bruises peeking from the child’s sleeves. “Huh… Those look nasty. Did you fall, little guy? Should I grab a first aid kit?”

Harry stiffened, pressing into Miia’s chest. His breath hitched, and tears began to slip down his cheeks. Without warning, a soft sob bubbled up from his throat, and he clutched Miia’s shirt.

Miia’s maternal instincts flared. She lifted Harry into her arms, rocking him gently. “Shh. It’s okay, sweetie,” she cooed, mind reeling. He’s thinking about the Dursleys again.

Kimihito realized something was amiss. “Hey, Harry,” he said softly, stepping closer. “I won’t hurt you. Promise. Do you want me to help bandage those bruises?”

The boy’s tears quickened, and he buried his face in Miia’s top, wailing, “T-They h-h-hit me! Aunt P-Petunia and Uncle V-Vernon—”

Kimihito froze, looking to Miia with alarm. She offered a shaky smile, pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple. “It’s okay now,” she whispered to him. “I’m here, Kimihito’s here… They can’t hurt you anymore.”

He continued to cry, clinging tight. Kimihito guided them into the living room, turning the heat up. “I’ll just, uh, step away for a minute, okay? So you two can have some privacy,” he said quietly.

Miia mouthed a grateful thank you as he headed down the hall. She coiled on the floor, cradling Harry’s small frame, speaking soothing nonsense words until the child’s sobs grew quieter. Eventually, he sniffled.

“S-Sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with shame. “I’m sorry. I just…”

Miia shook her head. “Don’t say that, Harry. You have every right to feel sad, or scared. What they did was terrible.” She pressed her cheek to his. “But it’s okay now. We’re far away from them.”

He rubbed at his eyes with trembling fists, tears catching on his thick lashes. “Okay…”

Kimihito reappeared with a big blanket that he draped around Miia’s shoulders. “You’re cold-blooded, right? Let’s get you warmed up.”

Miia nearly melted with gratitude. She abruptly lunged forward, ensnaring Kimihito in a hug. “Thank you, Darling,” she cried, forgetting her own strength. “You’re so sweet—!”

He let out a wheeze as her coils started to tighten. “T-Too tight…!”

Miia gasped, releasing him with an apologetic squeal. “Oh gosh, sorry! I didn’t mean—sorry!”

He staggered upright, forcing a grin. “No harm done,” he coughed. “So, you can settle in upstairs whenever you’re ready. I’ll turn off the AC in that room so it’s not so cool.”

Miia felt her heart give a flutter. He’s so considerate! She beamed at him. “Thank you, Mr. Kimihito… Or, can I call you Darling?”

“Uh—my name is Kimihito,” he said with a chuckle. “But sure, if you want.”

She giggled, unwinding her tail from his ankles. Then, with Harry still clinging to her, she slithered up to what would be their new bedroom. Once inside, she shut the door and coiled carefully around the center of the floor. The room was basic—a single bed, a small dresser, and not much space for Miia’s serpentine tail. Still, it was a thousand times more welcoming than the Dursleys’ home.

Setting Harry down gently, she brought herself to his eye level. “Harry darling, talk to me. Are you feeling better now?”

He sniffled again, fists pressed to his cheeks, but he nodded. “I… I don’t like thinking about all the times they…hit me.”

Miia’s chest tightened. She drew him into another hug. “It’s over. You’re not with them anymore, and I won’t ever let them hurt you again.”

Harry’s lower lip trembled. “It was so scary… A-And it hurt.”

She rocked him slowly from side to side, letting him cry as much as he needed. “I know, sweetie, I know. But you’re safe. Really safe.” Eventually, he leaned into her, letting her body warmth soothe him.

After some time, she carefully swiped the tears from his cheeks and offered him a gentle smile. “Alright, enough sad talk. Let’s go downstairs and see about some dinner, yeah?”

Harry forced a small smile, wanting to be brave for Miia’s sake. “Okay… I’ll try to be happy.”

Miia’s heart nearly broke at the notion that he felt pressured to appear cheerful. “You don’t have to force it, darling,” she murmured, pressing a motherly kiss to his forehead. “But I’d love to see you smile.”

Harry managed a more genuine grin. As they moved downstairs, they could hear Kimihito in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. When he saw them appear, he scratched the back of his neck. “I never really did a big grocery run,” he admitted. “I didn’t expect company so soon.”

Miia giggled. “That’s okay. We could, um, go grocery shopping tomorrow?”

Kimihito offered a sheepish nod. “Sure. It’ll help you get used to the city.”

Smith, who had finished her coffee and was scrolling on her phone again, waved lazily from the living room couch. “I’ll probably leave soon,” she said. “Got other stuff to handle. You folks settle in.”

Miia gazed at Harry. “We’ll get food, darling! Let’s not starve.” Then she paused, noticing the exhaustion on Harry’s face. “Actually, maybe we’ll just do a small meal tonight. We’ve had a long day.”

Harry didn’t protest; jet lag was hitting him, though it was more the emotional fatigue that weighed on him than the time difference.

Later, in the hush of evening, Kimihito threw together a modest meal from what he could find—rice, some pickled vegetables, an egg or two. It was simple but warm, and for Harry, having someone hand him a plate of actual, decent food felt remarkable. He hesitated for a moment, almost expecting a fist to come from nowhere, scolding him for daring to eat too much. When no one yelled, he dared to take a bite. The tension drained from his shoulders.

Miia, perched at his side, noticed. She reached under the table to give his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she murmured. “Eat as much as you like.”

His eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

Meanwhile—

High above the streets, Papi managed to escape her latest would-be pursuers, flapping her wings tiredly as she descended near an apartment complex. “Boring humans,” she mumbled. “They always want me to stay in one place… but I just want to have fun!” Her stomach growled. She rubbed it with one feathered arm, pouting. “Guess I need to eat before I do anything else.”

She soared between the buildings, searching for a place she might quickly snag a snack, until at last she spotted a small convenience store. Touching down quietly behind it, she folded her wings. “I’ve got some pocket money,” she reminded herself. “Better use that.”

Moments later, she emerged with a half-eaten snack in her wing, satisfied for the moment. She hopped onto a fence, scanning the city lights. “So many humans…some are nice. Some are not…” She thought of how the government “caregivers” insisted on “assigning” her to a household for her “safety.” It sounded stifling, but… maybe she wouldn’t mind living with someone kind, if it let her do fun things.

She fluttered off into the night.

Back at Kimihito’s house, Miia stood in the living room, humming contentedly as she watched Harry finish his rice. Kimihito was busy writing out a short shopping list for the next day, leaving Smith to lounge on his couch.

After stifling a yawn, Smith finally rose and brushed down her jacket. “Well, everything looks settled for now,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ll just—”

The door slammed open, revealing a very unhappy government worker, panting as though he’d sprinted for several blocks. “Ms. Smith!” he gasped. “We lost Papi again!”

Smith’s brow twitched. “Again?”

The worker nodded, doubling over to catch his breath. “Yes. She flew away from the safehouse after you reassigned some staff. We can’t keep up with her. If we don’t find her soon, we’ll be in breach of the Act.”

Smith glanced at her watch. “Ugh. Great. Fine.” She turned to Kimihito, gesturing at Miia and Harry. “So I’m leaving them in your capable hands. Try not to break any laws, okay?”

Kimihito rolled his eyes. “I’ll manage.”

Miia offered a timid farewell. “Bye, Ms. Smith.”

Harry, uncertain, just nodded politely in her direction.

Smith departed with the other worker, presumably to track down Papi. Silence settled in for a moment, until Kimihito yawned. “I guess we’ll all get some rest.”

Miia gave an enthusiastic nod. “Yes, let’s do that.” She carefully lifted Harry into her arms and slithered back upstairs. Kimihito watched them go, feeling a faint pang of sympathy for the small boy’s obvious fragility.

Once in the bedroom, Miia drew the curtains, flicked on a small lamp, and coiled on the bed. “Come on, sweetie,” she said, patting the mattress. “Let’s get some rest.”

The bed was… a squeeze. In truth, it was barely big enough for Miia’s serpentine half, let alone a second occupant. But she made do by curling her tail around the frame and letting her human torso occupy the upper portion of the bed. Harry climbed up carefully, eyes still reddened from the day’s tears.

“Thank you for… everything,” he said softly, lying down as she drew the blanket over them.

Miia’s voice was gentle as she answered, “You’re welcome, little one. I’m so glad we’re here together.” She pressed him close, feeling his tiny heartbeat. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night,” he whispered, letting the day’s exhaustion overwhelm him. Miia closed her own eyes, tail relaxing around the bedframe.

Downstairs, Kimihito finished tidying the kitchen, rubbed his own tired eyes, and collapsed onto the sofa, too drained to do anything else. The house was quiet now, except for the hum of the heater Miia so desperately needed.

In that pocket of warmth and relative safety, Harry slept without nightmares for the first time in a long while.

The next morning dawned bright, with sunshine pouring through the bedroom window. Harry stirred, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar room. He reflexively felt the mattress beneath him, the softness of the pillow, the warmth of a blanket that wasn’t threadbare or musty. For a second, he almost panicked, not recognizing anything. Then he remembered Miia, Kimihito, and the events of the last several days.

He rolled over to see Miia’s face just inches from his own. She was still asleep, her mouth parted in a tiny snore. Her red hair spilled across the pillow, and her tail glimmered in the morning light. Harry carefully inched away so as not to wake her, slipped off the bed, and tiptoed to the bedroom door.

Maybe he could help—like make breakfast or something. But he didn’t know if that would be okay here. His stomach tightened. At the Dursleys’, he’d had no choice: if he didn’t fix breakfast early, Uncle Vernon would punish him.

Stealing his courage, Harry crept down the steps. He found Kimihito in the kitchen, rummaging around. “Morning,” the man said with a friendly nod. “You’re up early.”

Harry gave a shy wave. “G-Good morning,” he mumbled, voice still scratchy.

Kimihito studied him for a second. “You want to help? I was going to make some miso soup. Nothing fancy, but it’ll keep us going.”

Harry perked up. “Yes,” he said softly, relieved that Kimihito didn’t sound angry. “I—I’d like to help, if it’s okay…”

“Sure,” Kimihito replied, grinning. “Watch how I do it, though—you probably haven’t made Japanese-style breakfast before, right?”

Harry shook his head. Kimihito patiently explained each step, letting the boy measure out water and stir in the miso paste. The scents of dashi and tofu soon wafted through the small kitchen. Harry breathed in, the warmth reminding him vaguely of soups he’d only rarely tasted at the Dursleys’.

After a few minutes, they heard a slithering thump from the stairs, and Miia appeared, hair tousled and eyes half-lidded with sleep. “Mmm… morning,” she murmured.

“Morning,” Kimihito said cheerily, handing her a spoon. “Try this.”

She took a sip of the soup and brightened instantly. “Wow! Tasty.” She shot a wink at Harry. “You helped?”

He nodded shyly. “A little bit…”

Miia beamed, recalling how back in England he always seemed used to doing everything alone. At least here he won’t be exploited, she thought. I can see Kimihito is a good guy. It’s a relief.

They settled at the small dining table. Miia’s snake tail curled around the base of the chair as she absentmindedly rubbed a hand over Harry’s messy hair, smoothing it out. Kimihito eyed the lamia’s tail with mild curiosity—he still wasn’t used to the idea of a half-snake housemate, but he was open-minded.

After breakfast, they gathered near the front door. The plan was to do a grocery run. Miia eagerly volunteered to help carry bags since her tail gave her a lot of strength. Harry was excited and anxious all at once, having never gone shopping except under the Dursleys’ watchful, hostile eye. Kimihito tossed on a light jacket, rummaging for his wallet.

“You two ready?” he asked.

Miia wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. “Ready!”

Harry shifted from foot to foot, giving a determined nod.

They ventured out into the bustling streets, where the morning rush was in full swing. Suited men and women hurried along sidewalks, children in school uniforms bounded onto buses, and overhead wires hummed with the day’s energy. Miia held tight to Harry’s hand, determined not to lose him in the throng.

Kimihito pointed toward a block of shops. “The supermarket’s just over there.”

But as they neared the front, the crowd thickened dramatically. Miia tried to keep her grip on Harry, but with so many people bumping and jostling, it became difficult. She let out a yelp when someone accidentally trod on the tip of her tail.

“Yowch!” she cried, jerking away.

The force of her movement tugged at Harry’s hand, but another passerby shoved unintentionally between them. Harry’s fingers slipped free, and in the blink of an eye, he was lost in the sea of moving bodies.

“Harry?!” Miia shouted, tail lashing. She whipped around, scanning for his messy black hair. Panic clogged her throat. “HARRY!”

Kimihito, hearing her alarm, fought his way back through the press of people. “Where is he?” he gasped.

“I—I don’t know!” Miia choked, eyes wild with fear. She spun in frantic circles. “We have to find him! He’s just a child—someone might hurt him, or he might get scared—”

“Calm down,” Kimihito said, though he was also worried. “We’ll retrace our steps, see if he’s stuck in the crowd.”

Miia was already slithering up the street, ignoring the painful twinge in her tail. “HARRY!” she screamed, her voice going hoarse. People stared, startled by the distressed lamia. Kimihito jogged after her, trying to keep up.

Meanwhile—

Harry was being jostled relentlessly, knocked about by people who barely noticed the small boy among them. One elbow caught him in the shoulder, another man’s briefcase grazed his ribs. “Miss Miia?” he tried to call, but his voice got swallowed by the city’s roar.

At last, he managed to stumble out of the densest part of the crowd, only to trip on the curb and tumble to the ground, scraping his knee painfully. A low whimper escaped him. “M-Miia,” he whispered, tears burning behind his eyes. His knee hurt. His mind reeled with the terror of being alone again.

He looked around desperately but only saw strangers. The glimmer of sunlight off a nearby building made him squint. Don’t cry he told himself. Miia’s here somewhere. Don’t cry…

Just then, a shadow passed over him. He flinched, expecting yet another commuter to shove by. Instead, a voice, cheerful and feminine, piped up: “Hey, little boy! What’s wrong?”

Harry blinked away tears, turning to see a petite figure with bright blue feathers for hair, large wings that stretched out like arms, and wide, curious eyes. She crouched beside him, tilting her head in concern.

He hiccupped a sob, scooting back in uncertainty. “I… I got separated from Miss Miia,” he whispered, wincing as the motion pulled on his hurt knee.

The girl frowned, raising a feathery wing to her mouth. “Aww, you’re lost? That’s no good.” She noticed his scraped knee and winced. “Ooh, ouchie… That must hurt. Let me see.”

Harry flinched again, mind flashing back to the Dursleys’ cruelty, but this winged girl didn’t look mean. Her big eyes sparkled with genuine concern.

“Hey, don’t be scared,” she said gently, inching closer. “I’m Papi, and I’m a harpy! And I can help you find your family. Okay?”

Still trembling, Harry whispered, “M-My name’s Harry.”

“Harry—cute name!” Papi chirped. She opened her wings in a gesture that was more or less an attempted hug. “Are your mommy and daddy around?”

He shook his head, sadness flitting across his face. “They’re gone. I… I have Miss Miia and Mr. Kimihito now.”

Papi looked momentarily confused, but she recovered quickly. “All right, so we gotta find them! Don’t worry, I can help you!”

He was so relieved to have a friendly face that tears spilled over anyway. “O-Okay…”

Papi leaned in, giving him a supportive pat with her wingtips. “First, let’s fix up that knee. Then we search, right?”

She helped him up, and they limped to a quieter side street. Papi rummaged through a tiny pouch she wore, eventually producing a small bandage. Her attempts at applying it were clumsy—harpies didn’t have full hands—but she managed. Harry murmured a grateful “Thank you.”

Feeling triumphant, Papi beamed. “See? Papi’s on the case! Now let’s see…” She raised her wingtips to her brow as though scanning the horizon. “We can look for them from above, maybe, or we can walk around. But how about we get some ice cream first?”

Harry blinked. “I-Ice cream?” He remembered the times the Dursleys never let him have sweets. But now, no one was telling him “no.”

“Uh-huh,” Papi insisted. “I bet that’ll cheer you up. Then we’ll search for your Miss Miii… whatever.”

“Miia,” Harry corrected with a tiny smile. “O-Okay.”

In minutes, they reached a small park with an ice cream vendor. Papi handed over some crumpled bills, and soon Harry was licking a chocolate cone, half-expecting it to be snatched away. Yet no one did. Meanwhile, Papi wrestled with a vanilla popsicle, trying to angle it into her mouth with her wing-hands.

“Ah, that hits the spot!” Papi declared, smacking her lips and rubbing her tummy. “All recharged now.” She turned to Harry. “Feeling better?”

He nodded, smiling shyly. “Yes, thank you…”

They sat for a moment on a bench, the mild day bright around them. The quiet brought back the realization that Harry was lost. His face fell.

Noticing his change in mood, Papi hopped up. “Right, time to find your folks!” She took Harry’s hand, or as close to that as she could with her feathery wing.

Harry felt a swell of hope. “Yes! Let’s go.”

They headed into the bustling streets again. Papi was no better at navigating than Harry—she seemed easily distracted, pointing out bright posters, flitting to the edges of store awnings to peer at window displays. But she never let go of Harry, and despite a few odd stares from passersby, the pair trudged on.

Meanwhile—

Miia was on the verge of panic. “Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, Kimihito, what if something terrible happens? He’s so little—someone might knock him down, or a car might hit him, or—”

Kimihito attempted to keep her rational. “We’ll find him, Miia,” he said firmly, though a bead of sweat traced down his brow. He could see the raw terror in her eyes. “Let’s just keep looking.”

But Miia was beside herself, slithering rapidly up and down the streets. With each moment that passed, her anxiety grew. “HARRY!” she shouted again, ignoring the strange looks from pedestrians. “We have to find him, Darling. I can’t lose him—I promised him I’d take care of him!”

Kimihito braced himself as she clung to him, nearly crushing his ribs with her frantic hug. “Miia—p-please… a little gentler!”

She loosened, tears welling in her own eyes. “Sorry… I’m so worried.”

“I know,” he said sympathetically. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”

They searched block after block, but Tokyo was vast. Miia felt despair nibbling at her heart until finally, as she rounded a corner, she slammed full force into a small shape with bright blue feathers. Both figures tumbled, though Papi managed to twist around so that Harry—who was in her arms—didn’t bear the brunt of the collision.

Miia let out a startled gasp, nearly toppling backward. She recognized the little boy instantly. “Harry!”

Harry’s face lit up with immense relief. “Miss Miia!” he cried. He flung his arms around her, pressing his face to her neck as he trembled in mixed fear and joy.

Miia clasped him, tears welling over. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” she whispered, voice shaky. “I was so afraid…”

Kimihito caught up, panting. “You found him,” he said, lungs burning. Then he spotted the blue-haired harpy picking herself up. “Who’s this?”

Papi beamed. “I’m Papi! I helped the little cutie—he was lost.”

Miia glared at the harpy, her protective instincts flaring. “Did you steal my baby?!”

Harry squeaked, turning to Miia with wide eyes. “N-No, she helped me when I fell!”

Miia’s anger wavered, replaced by awkward confusion. She cleared her throat and cradled Harry closer, as though afraid someone might snatch him. Kimihito stepped in. “Thank you, Papi. Really. Harry, are you okay?”

Harry nodded, though he’d banged his knee. “Miss Papi kissed my scrape,” he murmured quietly.

Miia’s eyes flashed with mild jealousy. “Well—I—I would’ve done that too!” she spluttered. Then she caught herself. “Sorry. I’m just so relieved you’re okay.” She leaned in, examining his knee, giving it a gentle pat. “Does it still hurt?”

Harry shrugged. “A little, but it’s okay.”

“Anyway,” Papi chirped, fluffing her feathers, “glad you found your family, cutie. I’ll be on my way now!” She spread her wings as if to take off, but the moment she did, Ms. Smith emerged from the crowd, flanked by a few more exasperated agents.

“Papi,” Smith said in a bored tone. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. So you ran off again, huh?”

Papi pouted. “But I was having fun. And I helped the kid!”

Smith rolled her eyes and turned to Miia, Kimihito, and Harry. “Seems like your friend here might be a good candidate for another extraspecies homestay. Mr. Kimihito, you do realize we assigned you to multiple creatures, right?”

Kimihito gaped. “W-Wait, did you just say multiple? I only have two bedrooms!”

Smith checked her phone. “Not for long. We’ll have to expand your place, obviously. Anyway, Papi, you’re officially assigned to Mr. Kimihito’s household.”

“WHAAAT?” Miia shrieked, half outraged, half flabbergasted. “Are you serious? You’re dropping her in without even asking us?”

“Yay!” Papi exclaimed, spinning around in a clumsy little dance. “I get to stay with the cutie—and there’s a lamia too!”

Harry blinked. “Miss Papi… you’ll live with us?”

Papi scooped him into a spontaneous hug, ignoring Miia’s simmering glare. “Yes, yes, yes! We can play every day!”

Miia fumed, curling her tail around Harry to pull him away from Papi’s embrace. “He’s my baby!”

Kimihito raised his hands, stepping between them. “Miia, calm down… We can all live together. Think of it like a roommate.”

“A roommate who’s a harpy!” Papi supplied enthusiastically. “Hi, nice to meet you again!”

Miia turned away, hugging Harry protectively. Smith merely sighed, checking her watch. “I’ll see you at the house in about a day with the renovation crew. For now, we need to handle some paperwork. Come on, Papi.”

“Okay!” Papi chirped. She turned to Harry and Miia, wings fluttering. “I’ll see you guys soon, okay?”

Harry gave a little wave. “Th-Thank you…”

A swirl of conflicting emotions raced through Miia’s heart—gratitude that Papi rescued Harry, jealousy that the harpy got to hold him, and anxiety about sharing her new home. Still, she forced a polite, if stiff, nod. “Yes… thank you for helping Harry.”

Papi beamed before Smith ushered her off for the official arrangement.

Miia let out a breath, turning to Kimihito. “Darling, what if she tries to, to—”

“She’s not taking Harry away,” Kimihito promised gently. “Harry clearly adores you. It’ll be fine. Let’s just get home and let him rest. We can talk more about Papi later.”

Seeing Harry’s exhaustion, Miia relented. “Alright,” she sighed. “But I’m watching that bird.”

Kimihito tried not to roll his eyes as he guided them back down the street. He offered to carry the groceries, though Miia insisted on taking most of them, wanting to vent her agitation through labor. Harry walked in a subdued fashion beside them, knee throbbing a bit, but grateful to be back with Miia.

The next day, after a peaceful night’s sleep, a cheerful commotion arrived on Kimihito’s doorstep: Papi showed up with a small suitcase clutched in her wings, eyes brimming with excitement. Smith lounged against her car, finishing some phone calls as the harpy darted up to the door.

Harry, who had been peeking through the window, opened the door wide. “Miss Papi!” he said, stepping aside.

“Cutie!” Papi cried, scooping him into a swirling hug. Miia, who was behind him, let out a short, discontented growl.

Kimihito greeted Papi, trying not to look overwhelmed. “So… we have to figure out where you’ll sleep. Maybe the living room, until the renovations are done?”

Papi nodded, but she wasn’t really paying attention; she was too busy cuddling Harry. Miia’s tail gave an irritated flick, but she forced herself to breathe. Harry still loves me. He’s just saying hello.

Soon the renovation specialists arrived, taking measurements, discussing expansions to accommodate Miia’s lamia tail and Papi’s flighty nature. They bustled around, marking walls, conferring with Ms. Smith. Meanwhile, Papi wandered about, cooing over every new detail—like how big the kitchen was, or how the windows opened.

Miia observed from the side, sometimes with an almost comical jealousy. She perked up each time Harry scampered back to her, wanting a moment of reassurance or a hug. Then she’d preen, “Yes, dear?” and wrap him happily in her arms.

Papi, for her part, didn’t seem to harbor any ill will. She was like a child herself, easily thrilled by small pleasures, and she simply adored Harry—happy to have a new friend.

Eventually, Smith departed with the renovation team, leaving everyone else to settle into the new routine. Kimihito gazed around his increasingly cramped house, swirling with half-finished projects. “Well, guess we’re all one big family now,” he said with a wry grin.

Miia smiled uncertainly, her tail gently knocking against a chair. “We’ll make it work, Darling… Right, Harry?”

Harry nodded earnestly. “Yes, Miss Miia.”

He glanced at Papi, who was busy sliding on the hardwood floor in excitement. “Miss Papi, want to…play?”

She perked up, zooming over. “Yes! Let’s do something!”

Miia, feeling a flicker of jealousy, quickly coiled around them both for a group hug. “Let’s do something together,” she suggested pointedly. Papi giggled, and Harry smiled in relief.

Kimihito watched them, momentarily touched by the scene. He couldn’t help but recall the earlier mention of Harry’s old life. Abuse… The idea made his stomach churn with anger. He was determined to help create a loving environment for the boy—and he sensed Miia felt the same, even if she was a bit overprotective.

Harry leaned against Miia’s tail, enjoying the soft scales. “I’m really happy,” he said quietly, so shy it was almost inaudible. “I like it here.”

Miia’s heart soared. “Me too, darling.”

Meanwhile—

Centorea Shianus trotted along the outskirts of Tokyo, her long golden hair trailing behind her as her hooves clicked against the pavement. She was a proud centaur with knightly aspirations, but the city’s cramped streets unnerved her. She navigated them carefully, trying to avoid attention, for she had not yet been placed in a proper homestay.

Her application with the government had been…complicated. She’d tried to find a host on her own, preferring to choose someone of honorable character rather than leaving it in a bureaucrat’s hands. But the search so far proved fruitless. City folk gaped at her, or avoided her altogether, and it left her feeling frustrated.

In a quieter part of town, she ventured down an alley to catch her breath. “Surely a kind soul must exist here,” she muttered, resting a hand on her sword’s hilt (a purely ceremonial blade). “But how shall I find them in this maze?”

Little did she know that in due course, her path would cross with that of a kindhearted boy who had just escaped a life of misery—and that encounter would change everything for them both.

For now, though, she closed her eyes and exhaled, unaware of how soon her destiny would intertwine with Miia, Papi, Kimihito, and one small, traumatized Harry Potter.

Unseen by Centorea, a shadow passed overhead: a small slime-like shape known as Suu, creeping along rooftops in search of water or new experiences to absorb. And in a distant suburb, a lonely mermaid named Mero sighed in her bathtub, dreaming of tragic romance.

All across Tokyo, monsters and humans alike danced around each other, forging an uneasy tapestry of coexistence. And at the center of that tapestry was one little boy and the lamia who had sworn to protect him.

Morning faded into afternoon. With Papi’s arrival, the household dynamics shifted. She flitted about, trying to see if she could help with chores—mostly making them harder for Kimihito, as she wasn’t used to working with human utensils. At one point, she nearly knocked over a pot of water while trying to fill it. Miia hissed in alarm, coiling forward to rescue Harry from the splash.

“Careful!” Miia snapped, voice sharper than intended.

Papi blinked, her big eyes watering. “I was just trying to help…”

Miia sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I just… can’t let anything hurt Harry.”

Papi’s offended look vanished in an instant. “Aww, you’re worried about him?” She glanced at the boy, who hovered near the kitchen table, uncertain. “He’s okay!”

Miia’s scales relaxed. “Right. Right.”

Kimihito decided to intervene, handing Papi a plastic pitcher. “Why don’t you fill this instead? It’s lighter, so you can manage it better with your wings.”

She brightened. “Okay!”

Harry slipped up to Miia’s side, tugging her sleeve. “I—I could help too,” he said. “What do you need me to do?”

Miia smiled, bending to brush a stray lock from his eyes. “How about stirring the soup while I cut vegetables?”

He nodded eagerly, any traces of anxiety overshadowed by the fact he could contribute.

In that simple moment, their day-to-day routine began to form. Under Kimihito’s guidance, they learned to share tasks, with Miia providing brute strength, Papi handling high-up tasks that required flying, and Harry helping with smaller, simpler chores.

That evening, the four of them sat down around a low table in the living room for dinner. Harry noticed how cozy it felt, the random comedic chaos replaced by a sense of camaraderie. He slurped at his soup with a soft slurp, no longer bracing for a cuff to the head. Miia had one arm draped around him, as if to declare, “He’s safe with me.”

Papi, perched on a cushion across from them, hummed happily about the day’s events, occasionally offering Harry a sweet smile or a playful wave of her wings. Kimihito, for his part, was grateful that the house—though small—was currently filled with warmth rather than tension.

In the midst of this, Miia noticed that Harry was drifting off, spoon clanking softly against his bowl as his grip slackened. She chuckled, slipping the spoon from his hand. “Someone’s sleepy,” she teased gently. “Time for bed, I think.”

Harry mumbled a vague protest, but he was too groggy to argue.

Kimihito stood, offering to carry the boy. “I’ve got him,” he said softly, placing a hand on the child’s shoulder. “Or do you want to take him?”

Miia’s eyes lit with maternal instinct. “I’ll carry him,” she insisted. She wound her tail around the drowsy Harry, lifting him easily.

Papi waved at them, chirping, “Good night, cutie!”

Harry gave a half-sleepy wave in response.

Miia guided him upstairs, mindful of not bumping him into any walls as she ascended. She found their bedroom had already been fitted with a slight shift in furniture—Kimihito must have moved the dresser to give Miia’s tail more room. Carefully, she settled Harry onto the bed, tucking a blanket over him.

As she withdrew, Harry stirred. “Mmm… Miss Miia?”

She leaned over. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes barely open. “For everything.”

A surge of emotion welled up in her chest. Gently, she stroked his hair. “You don’t need to thank me, Harry. I’m your… guardian now, I guess.” She smiled softly. “I’m happy to take care of you.”

He blinked once more, then his eyes slid shut. Miia lingered, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. After a moment, she coiled away and flicked off the lamp, letting him drift into peaceful slumber. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, she vowed silently. Never.

Downstairs, she found Papi playing some console game with Kimihito. The harpy was flapping her wings in excitement whenever her character jumped on screen. Miia joined them, a small part of her worried that perhaps Harry would wake up and need her. But this was part of living in a shared house, she realized: everyone could pitch in to help, and she didn’t have to remain constantly on guard. Even so, she was used to being protective, so it would take time to relax.

A few days passed in a blur of minor renovations and new routines. Ms. Smith dropped by sporadically to check on the house’s progress, always with a bored expression but efficient oversight. She also alluded to other extraspecies who might end up crossing paths with Kimihito’s household—though Miia didn’t like the sound of more “competition.”

Harry, on the other hand, was simply fascinated by the existence of so many monsters. When Papi told him stories about harpies who lived in tropical areas, he’d listen with wide eyes. Or when Miia described her lamia sisters, he’d ask quiet, shy questions.

“You’re not a freak at all,” Miia reassured him one morning when he revealed that, growing up, he’d been called a freak for “unexplainable” things. “We’re all a bit unusual here—and that’s okay.”

He smiled, eyes brimming with gratitude.

Meanwhile, Papi was finding that living under a proper roof was more pleasant than she’d expected. True, she occasionally forgot certain guidelines—like wearing clothes consistently, or not diving into the neighbor’s backyard pool. But with Kimihito’s gentle corrections and Miia’s fierce reminders, she adapted. She also discovered how fun it was to help care for Harry, cuddling him to comfort him when Miia was busy.

Though Miia sometimes bristled at these close moments, she also began to see that Papi genuinely cared about the boy. Late one night, Miia found them both curled on the couch, Harry half-asleep on Papi’s feathery lap, while Papi hummed a lullaby in her high-pitched, childlike voice. Miia paused, chest tightening, then smiled to herself. She quietly adjusted the blanket over them both, grateful that Harry had so many supportive people now.

Kimihito noticed the shift too. On nights like that, he’d catch Miia’s eye, and they’d exchange a smile that said: He’s going to be okay.

Still, from time to time, nightmares plagued Harry’s sleep. He’d whimper or cry out, sometimes dreaming of a locked cupboard or Vernon’s furious face. Whenever that happened, Miia would stroke his hair and remind him that he was safe, that those people were far away now. More often than not, the presence of Miia’s coils or Papi’s gentle singing soothed him back to rest.

And so, their little household forged a new normal. One that, unbeknownst to them, was about to expand yet again—because fate had plans for Kimihito Kurusu’s home.

In a nearby district, Centorea Shianus still wandered, searching for her fated master or caretaker. She had taken to frequenting a certain quiet park to gather her thoughts, away from prying eyes. One day, as she paused to drink from a fountain, she overheard a group of teenage delinquents harassing a smaller boy. Centorea’s sense of chivalry blazed. She stormed over, scolding them with righteous fervor, sending the ruffians running. The boy, breathless with gratitude, wanted to repay her kindness. Noticing Centorea’s confusion, he suggested she might find what she sought in another part of town—a certain modest house that was rumored to host extraspecies.

Centorea listened intently, asking for directions. Though the boy was vague, he mentioned the presence of a lamia and a harpy, which piqued her interest. Could they be honorable? Might they accept her, a proud centaur, with courtesy?

She felt an odd stirring of excitement at the thought. “Thank you, young man,” she said, bowing. “I shall investigate.”

Elsewhere, Mero, the mermaid, was daydreaming of meeting a tragic love. She’d recently refused a homestay with a wealthy, fish-obsessed family that only wanted her for status. Instead, she floated in the agency’s temporary aquatic facility, sighing wistfully, waiting for a sign of a doomed romance or heartbreak that she found so enthralling.

Meanwhile, Rachnera the Arachne toiled under the watch of a greedy host who exploited her web-spinning abilities, and Lala the Dullahan roamed city outskirts, dark cowl trailing behind her as she contemplated mortal destinies.

In time, all of them would cross paths with Harry, Miia, and Kimihito—spinning a tapestry of belonging unlike anything the unsuspecting boy could have imagined. For now, though, life in the cozy little Tokyo home continued, each day a step of healing for Harry and a chance to strengthen bonds for Miia and Papi.

It was after a particularly lively weekend—during which Papi dragged Harry to a park for an afternoon of feeding ducks, and Miia taught him a few Japanese phrases—that Centorea finally found her way to their street. She arrived at dawn, standing before the modest house with an air of regal poise. Birds sang in the early light as she deliberated.

Inside, Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes, stepping out of bed. Miia was still half-coiled under the covers. He tiptoed past the sleeping lamia, carefully slipped down the stairs, and paused at the window. A large shape loomed behind the front gate—something with the silhouette of a horse. Harry squinted.

Could that be a horse in the yard?

He glanced around, uncertain if he should wake Miia or Kimihito. Eventually, curiosity propelled him to the door. He opened it just a crack to peer outside.

What he saw made his breath catch: a tall woman with the upper body of a human and the lower body of a beautiful, powerful steed. She wore an armored breastplate and carried a sheathed sword. Her blonde hair cascaded in waves down her shoulders, and her deep eyes reflected nervous resolve.

Harry felt a jolt of… awe. She was so regal, like a character from a story. And also… kinda scary?

She noticed him immediately, her posture straightening. “Oh! My apologies if I startled you,” she said, voice calm yet trembling with hope. “Are you by chance part of this household?”

Harry swallowed hard. “Y-Yes, ma’am,” he said in English, though it sounded meek.

Centorea tilted her head. “I… see you speak English? May I request a moment of your time? I heard rumors that a lamia and a harpy reside here, under the Cultural Exchange Act, and I’m in dire need of a trustworthy host.”

Harry blinked, feeling the weight of her gaze. “You… want to stay here?”

She nodded once, golden hair shimmering. “If they will have me.”

Harry hesitated. He felt a flicker of excitement. Another one? Like Miia, like Papi? Yet he also feared how Miia might react, given her reaction to Papi. “U-Um,” he managed. “I can ask Miss Miia. She’s… sleeping.”

Centorea bowed. “Thank you. I shall wait.”

Harry retreated inside, heart hammering. He couldn’t help but smile a little. Another monster girl wanted to live with them. Did that mean… more fun, or more chaos? He pictured Miia and Papi’s squabbles over him, worried it might get worse with a third occupant. But also, maybe that would mean another person to care for him, to love him, to help him realize he wasn’t worthless or weird.

He found Miia stirring, sliding off the bed in a groggy haze. “Mm… morning, darling,” she muttered. “Everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Harry bit his lip. “Er… Miss Miia? There’s… another monster person outside. A centaur, I think. She wants to talk to you.”

Miia’s eyes popped open. “A… centaur? Outside?” She quickly whipped her tail free from the blanket. “Let’s… go see?”

And so, the next twist in their story began.

The door opened wide, revealing the proud centaur standing with her hands folded politely at her waist. Miia and Papi, who had now roused, peered out with equal measures of curiosity and alarm. Kimihito, hearing the commotion, stumbled into the hallway.

Centorea bowed deeply, armor gleaming in the early sunlight. “Good morning. My name is Centorea Shianus. I humbly request a chance to join your household under the Cultural Exchange Act. Will you hear me out?”

Miia blinked, tail curling around Harry. Papi flapped her wings, tilting her head. Kimihito rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… sure,” he said, stepping aside. “Want to come in? It might be a tight fit.”

Centorea nodded, carefully maneuvering her equine half through the doorway, eyes scanning the interior in a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. And as she crossed the threshold, another layer of destiny slipped into place for Harry Potter—once an abused boy in a cupboard, now the beloved charge of a lamia, a harpy, and soon a centaur.

A new dawn of possibilities lit the edges of his life, shimmering with the promise of safety, family, and the magical notion that perhaps—just perhaps—he was never really a freak at all.