Chapter 7
Petunia and Dudley were sitting in Prince Bonehammer’s office, waiting for the youngest of the three to return. Petunia was still staring at the papers in front of her when her son asked a question.
“Mom? Why does Hary have all those blocks on him?” Indeed, his mother would know the answer. It was pretty clear that Harry didn’t know, but hopefully, his mother could fill him in.
“I have no idea, dearest. I had no idea that Dumbledore had tampered with Harry’s magic. Those compulsions also look to be affecting things in the wizarding world, and I can’t imagine what Hary would have done or been like if they took effect once he met the people they were attached to.”
That thought scared Dudley more than anything. What if somebody tried to do this again to his baby brother? What if somebody wanted to separate him and Harry… what if somebody tried to hurt Harry as Dudley’s dad did? Dudley wouldn’t stand for it. Dudley knew he wasn’t brave and wasn’t as bright as Harry. He knew Harry was leagues ahead of him even though Dudley was older. Harry was a prince! Dudley was just his cousin. That didn’t stop Dudley from telling himself and his mother that he would always be there to protect Harry. That Dudley would rather die than watch Harry get hurt ever again.
“Oh, my lovely boy, I know. I know how much this must be scaring you, and I know how much you love Harry. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. We need to be strong for Harry. We must ensure he knows his family loves him and will always be there when he needs us. Make sure you aren’t making yourself unhappy either, though. I want…I need both my beautiful boys to be happy and loved. I don’t care how much it costs. From now on, I will always put your happiness and Harry’s happiness first. I am so sorry I failed you before. I should have left long before now…I was just so scared. It’s okay now, though; I am leaving your dad. You will never have to see that monster again if you dont want to. Hopefully, You will go to the magic school with Harry, and everything will work out.”
Dudley knew it wouldn’t be as simple as that, but he trusted his mother and himself to look after Harry when needed. As his mother’s words solidified in his mind, a hooting sound and a small owl swooped in from who knows where. It dropped a small envelope labelled ‘ Dudley Evans, Prince Bonehammer’s office, Gringotts’ and just like that, both people in the large office knew that they were right and that everything would work out okay in the end. They just had to make it that far.
Sludge. That is the only descriptive word that could classify the evil, black tar that came out of Hadrian’s body. Bonehammer continued chanting as more and more of the nasty substance leaked from all the pours in Hadrian’s face, mouth, nose, and even his eyes. Hadrian felt like his body was combusting and screamed as the tar continued to pour. His arms started leaking, and soon enough, his whole body was covered in the black sludge. Hadrian was sure that he was dying. His body was on fire. He felt like he was puking up his intestines. His arms felt like they were pouring syrup from his skin.
It was the most brutally painful thing Hadrian had ever experienced in his life, and he knew pain. The pain was something he was so familiar with; it was like second nature to him. Broken bones. Cracked skulls. Torn muscles. Skin flayed and burnt. Blood was also a familiar friend; he knew what it was like to see his cupboard stained by the crimson from his body. He was intimately familiar with the way it poured from his arms, back, chest, and face, from puking it up and drinking it back when all he could do was lay in his pool. Aunt Petunia had always helped him the best she could. She had just as many scars from Vernon as Harry did: bruises and cuts and torn ligaments. Broken bones and whip marks littered both their skins. Dudley had his fair share of the friend called pain. However, he didn’t have it nearly as bad as Harry and Petunia.
Hadrian had thought that this was it. This is how he’d die. Alone in a place he didn’t know the way out of. In more pain than he’d ever experienced before. Away from the people he held most dear. He’d thought he’d die by Vernon Dursley’s hand a month ago. Now, he had no idea who would do him in, but it felt like he was dying. It was opposite to the last time he had thought he was dying. It had been cold back then, and he wasn’t wearing enough clothes. It was the winter break, and Vernon was home every day for the Hols. Harry had been bad and asked Aunt Petunia a question in the earshot of his uncle. That was why he had no food for an entire week. Then, he was caught trying to take some three days into his sentence, and that’s how he landed outside. He knew better than to beg to come back into the foux warmth of the house. He knew better than to cry, plead, or bang on the door. Instead, he lay down in the bitter snow. He was shivering and knew he wouldn’t be allowed back in until the following day. Laying there, the soft snow slowly covered him like a blanket. Soon enough, he couldn’t feel his hands or feet…but he was getting warmer. He was so warm that he must be sweating, so he kicked off the too-big shirt that Aunt Petunia had pined to fit him just a little bit better. He took off Dudley’s old shorts that fit him like clown pants. He lay in the warmth of the snow and shut his eyes. He had read somewhere that hypothermia could kill a person… but he really was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. He didn’t need his brain supplying him with useless facts.
He did fall asleep and eventually awoke to see Aunt Petunia crying over his body. It wasn’t until hours later that he learned that his heart had stopped beating sometime in the night. Aunt Petunia said it was a miracle that it was beating again. When Uncle Vernon stayed late at the office or went out drinking with important people, Aunt Petunia would lay Harry on the couch, thread her fingers through his hair while he lay in her lap, and call him her miracle. That was how he knew that she loved him even though she let Uncle Vernon hurt him all the time. That was why she trusted her when she said they were leaving. That was why he loved her back. He was her miracle, and she was his warmth.
The pain felt neverending, like it was inevitable, even after he’d stopped spewing that black tar-like sludge. His body protested any form of movement. His stomach was in knots, and his eyes were itchy. His throat was once more aching, and he felt boneless. Bonehammer collected all the gross things from his body into one massive glass chest.
“I have never seen magic manifest like this in all my years. The blocks and compulsions on your person have materialized into…whatever this is. After your magical bath, you should be able to see the malicious intent coming from this pile of goo, but in any case, I’m not sure you would have survived all seven years at Hogwarts with this inside of you.” Bonehammer’s voice was quiet. He sounded afraid to speak louder, like the glass chest would disintegrate and the tar would be unleashed.
“Can I have some help? I can’t move.” Hadrian’s voice was hoarse, his throat aching with every breath, much less making any sound. He was surprised Bonehammer had heard him at all.
Hadrian was then levitated and walked through the large door they had come through. He closed his eyes and gave his body and life up to Bonehammer. Walking down yet another hallway, they came across a pearly white door. You’d imagine heaven was behind, all pearly gated and massive. Bonehammer had left him hovering over a shallow pool. He added more things, and the water below shimmered. Hadrian couldn’t tell if it was a milky white colour or so clear that the bottom was seen as if there was no water in it. Bonehammer sat next to some dias and prayed silently. He thought this was another question to add to the growing list. However, Bonehammer stood up after the pool had shimmered again.
“I will gently lower you into the cleansing pool. If at any point you feel more pain than you do now, please tell me, and we will stop until the pain subsides. It’s rare for the cleansing pool to hurt an individual, but it can happen after a terrible ritual.”
Hadrian’s toes touched the water, and it felt like someone had just shocked his entire nervous system. It wasn’t painful, but it was alarming for a minute. Bonehammer continued to lower him into the soft, warm liquid slowly. By the time his hips were fully submerged, he was itching to get his whole body into the fabulous bath. From where his skin met the water, dark purple tendrils were emanating from his skin. It looked like something was bleeding out of him, and while alarming, it didn’t do anything else. It felt like he was long overdue for such a relaxing bath. Once the water reached just above his belly button, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He yelped, and Bonehammer stopped immediately. The pain took a minute to subside, but it did. Hadrian nodded when he was ready to continue.
Hadrian tentatively placed his hands in the water, and instantly, his fingers felt better. Much like the rest of his body, his hands had been a source of consistent pain and aches ever since Vernon crushed a few of his bones in the oven door. He had scorch marks from when Vernon took a small blowtorch to them. That had been a few years ago, but lighters still freak him out.
Once his shoulders had been fully submerged, his feet sat flat on the bottom of the pool. Bonehammer cancelled his spell, and Hadrian gained control of his body again. He could sit on a little sitting ledge without having to resubmerge any of his body. He was told that he would dive down to the middle of the pool when he was ready. He could breathe because the pool water was concentrated magic. Another question he’d like answered. He could just let himself float there; nothing would disturb him until he felt ready to come up.
How the water…magic felt on his skin was the best thing he had ever felt. It was soft in the way a newborn’s skin was. It was gentle in the way Aunt Petunia played with his hair. It was warm in the way that he felt a mother’s embrace would be. It felt firm and gave him strength in the way he imagined a father’s protection and encouragement would. It was sweet in the way that Dudley always let Harry ramble on about whatever he was reading about, never interrupting him, even when it was clear that Dudley had no idea what he was talking about. He didn’t want to leave this little slice of paradise in which he had found himself. His whole body felt lighter than it ever had before. Like there was a weight lifted off his soul, he could feel some energy coursing through his veins, but only this time, it felt happy and like home.
It felt nothing like any of the times he’d accidentally used his magic before, but he knew that was what it was. He could feel it in the pool, all the magical people’s powers coursing through the waves. He could also feel something he had attributed to what Lady Magic would feel like. He felt it in his magic, in his blood. He could feel whatever had been bleeding out of him before. He could feel how angry, despondent, and evil it was. He felt two different people’s magic coursing through it. One was manipulative, mean, and cared for only power. The other was hurt, scared, and like its only goal was not to die. As the cleansing pool took hold of that dangerous magic, he could feel it magically erased from his person and replaced by Lady Magic’s. He could sense that Bonehammer was still up at the surface waiting for him. He could feel his attachment to Dudley, his godparents, and even his soul marked. He wondered what it felt like for them because, for him, it felt like coming home. It felt like nothing could harm him anymore and that he'd never have to experience the pain of his past ever again. He felt safe and happy. He hoped those other people felt that way, too.