Harry's POV-flashback

Me and the boy are climbing onto a tree.

He’s good at climbing. But he’s really old already.

I’m not good at climbing. I’m just as old as I have fingers on my hand. Five. I turned five in February. I already know all of it.

My mummy told me about it.
Mummy tells me lots of stuff.

She tells me about the trees and the animals and about firefighters. I like firefighters.

My daddy says I’m as brave as a firefighter.

I don’t feel so brave right now.

The boy keeps climbing higher and higher and I’m scared of saying stop, I am brave, I can’t give up.

Daddy says it’s okay to not be brave. I want to impress the boy; I want him to think I’m cool.

“Do you think we can jump down from here?”

I shrug. I don’t think we can. But I don’t want to say no, what if he thinks I’m not as brave as a firefighter?

“Sure.”

“I go first, you second”, he determines and then he jumps, landing on his feet, grinning up at me with a big tooth gap in his mouth.

I still have all my teeth. It’s so boring.

“Now you”, he says and then I jump.

It hurts lots when I hit the ground.

I don’t say anything. I wipe away the tears when he’s in front of me and doesn’t look.

In the next week, my ankle turns green and blue and purple and it’s so cool. It looks like a galaxy.