Harry had been diagnosed with narcolepsy when he was seventeen. Rather than the usual teenage laziness, he was glad his condition had a medical name.
It didn't stop the frequent bouts of unconsciousness, of course.
Waking up, Harry found himself shivering cold, on a rough stone floor. Sitting up with a jolt, he stared at the ragged man wearing only a loincloth. A fire lit the otherwise dim interior of...a cave?
'Where am I?' Harry asked, frightened.
'Ugg...ugg' the man urged, handing him a hunk of meat.
Harry took it nervously, wondering what the hell had happened.
The caveman smiled.