Chapter One
Things were moving along as expected in the workflow that rainy Tuesday morning at Grunnings. There had been a new order of drills that needed a retooling of one of the plants in order to fill the order, and the authorization waited on the desk of the manager in charge of that project. Vernon Dursley looked at the paperwork and checked it over for any mistakes that slipped through the whole process. Finding none, he grunted in satisfaction and signed off on the authorization. It was placed in his outbox for delivery to the next person in the chain.
It had been a bit of a bear to accomplish, since the first plant they’d been planning to use had been attacked by eco-terrorists pledging solidarity to some kind of political party that Vernon had never heard of. They espoused recycling, which Vernon agreed had merit in most cases, but he drew the line at hemp undergarments and hemp hair products. It intrigued his wife and he admitted that the hemp fiber wallet she bought for him was working out pretty well, but he didn't say it very loudly. The attack by those same terrorists that probably had hemp wallets too had cost the company money, even with the insurance claims offsetting some of the costs.
After a quiet investigation, it had been shown that the terrorists had inside help. The trail had been traced to a higher-level supervisor, who had been called into Vernon's office for a chewing-out and firing session before the police were allowed in. It had taken him a few days to cool off after that. Due process had been followed and the now ex-supervisor could claim a completed prison sentence on his record in the fullness of time, as people had been hurt and almost killed. Depending on good behavior reductions, the man could be out in fifteen years, otherwise he would be an old man when he got out.
The phone ringing interrupted his thoughts.
"Dursley," he growled into the phone. The upset voice of his wife greeted him and made him snap upright in his chair. The fountain pen in his hand fell to the desk and toppled off the edge without him noticing.
"Vernon! Come quick! Harry's been hurt really terribly!"
"What? What happened? Where?"
"A couple of ruffians with sticks attacked him at school! He was covered in blood and the emergency personnel was trying to get him to breathe!"
One hand mashed the call button for his secretary a bit harder than he'd really intended and he distantly heard a snap coming from the plastic faux-wooden box.
"What about Dudley?"
"He's fine! He's with me at Royal Surrey. They've already brought Harry in on an air ambulance and they didn't sound calm about it. They’re working on him now, trying to save his life, right now! He's all I have left of my sister," she sobbed. A few hiccups found their way out. “What am I going to do?”
"I'll be there soon, Pet. Hold it together. I'm on my way."
The secretary scooted into the office, having heard Vernon's side of the rushed conversation.
"Harry?" Her voice was filled with dread.
"Yes, and it's bad. I have to go. Cancel everything for the rest of the day. I may have to cancel for tomorrow, too."
"Go. I'll handle it."
The words followed a suddenly empty office. Vernon was a big man but he could move quick when he had to. The fear in the sound of his wife's voice lent wings to his feet.
-=(|-|)=-
The first thing he saw after he burst through the doors was Petunia sitting in the corner. She was huddled into herself, shoulders drawn in and tears coursing down her face. Dudley sat uncomfortably, able to see that there was something bothering his mother and knowing that it was related to his cousin. He looked up at his father, not knowing what to do to help his mother and hoping the man he trusted with his life had some ideas.
Vernon scooted over to Petunia's corner and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm here, Pet."
She looked up. Petunia sprang into his waiting arms and sobbed her heart out. It took several minutes for her to calm down enough to speak more or less clearly. From the look on Dudley's face, he hadn't a clue what was wrong and it was really bothering him. He'd never seen his mother act like this before and it was all he could do to join her in a good cry.
"What happened?"
She stared into his eyes.
"I was at the school to spend lunch time with Harry and Dudley. We'd done that and they were both out on the playground after eating, and I was watching them play together. A couple of people in black robes approached Harry on the playground and pointed sticks at him. He was... he was..."
Petunia shuddered and stopped speaking for a moment. Vernon rubbed her back and encouraged her to go on. Petunia looked around to see if there was anyone within earshot.
"They did the same things Lily showed me once. Something dif... diffin... something. It was terrible, Vernon! Harry collapsed right there in the sand, cuts all over himself and bleeding awfully bad! If he hadn't fallen, I was sure I'd see his head cut off!"
She sobbed again loudly and Vernon held her closely. A few minutes of the weeping from her and several tears from him, he heard her say something else.
"I didn't catch that, Pet. What was that?"
She mumbled against the expanse of his chest, "The emergency personnel were fighting the problems the rain gave them and had already called for a helo to pick him up. I heard one say to the other that Harry was fast approaching 'decompensated shock,' whatever that is. Vernon, what is it?"
Vernon's face lost the rest of what little color he had. He couldn't answer her as he was sobbing himself. He wasn’t a medic, but he recognized that term. They clutched at each other and didn’t notice when Dudley burrowed into their embrace.
The hours passed as they sat there on the hard plastic chairs. Dudley fidgeted and to be fair, so did Vernon. Petunia shivered, lost in her own memories and fears. Others came and left the emergency room, entered the triage area or either walked or was rolled out the double doors in a wheelchair. None of the Dursleys made any special note of any of them, even the ones that had sobbed as they had done upon arrival.
Vernon tried to distract himself with the frankly terrible coffee in the large urn and all it did was make him jumpy and give him an overfull bladder. From time to time, he would catch Dudley’s eye and jerk his head toward Petunia before going in search of temporary relief.
“Mister and Missus Dursley?”
An exhaustion roughened deep voice interrupted them. Vernon looked up to see a man in scrubs with streaks of blood on them, facing them. Petunia had worn herself out and was leaning up against him with her head on his shoulder. She was lightly snoring.
He eased her awake.
“Wha…”
“Pet, a doctor’s here and wants to talk to us.”
Her eyes flew open and she jumped up.
“Harry??”
Vernon stood up, groaning at the aches in his hips from the awful chairs. He put an arm around his wife and drew her close. He looked at the other man.
“Doctor…?”
“Doctor Kairaba Conateh.” Vernon could hear faint accents of one of the African languages in the man’s voice. “You are the guardians of the child that came in this hospital after an attack? Harry Potter?”
“Yes. I’m Vernon Dursley and this is my wife, Petunia. We’re his uncle and aunt. What can you tell us?”
The man’s face fell a fraction, and Vernon’s heart fell with it.
“It’s not good.”
-=(|-|)=-
In a Scottish castle, there was the sound of an explosion somewhere inside after a loud screaming whistle was heard. A few minutes later, there was the haunting sound of a phoenix mourning as it flew over the battlements of the castle. Only the sharpest of ears that listened carefully to the phoenix could distinguish a very faint note of hope.
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Author's Note:
So I received an ever-so-helpful guest review on Christmas Day on the FFN version of my story Like Tenfold Shields. Here it is, in its entirety:
Guest
chapter 12
Dec 25, 2021
Don't write more than one story at a time until it is finished. Then start the next story. PROBLEM SOLVED! Your welcome.
While I am always pleased to get feedback this was... errrrr... less than helpful. My mind and my muse is not quite that linear, and while this has nothing to do with self-discipline, it has allll to do with the way my mind works. Spend a lifetime on different seizure meds and live with chronic pain meds too and your thinking will change as well. Oh well, whatever, I’m persevering and keepin’ on keepin’ on despite those challenges.
I finally decided to give in to the evil imp on my shoulder... and start the next story in honor of that review. Thank you whoever you are, unknown Guest, for the motivation.
Here's the next entry in my fanfiction bibliography. I'm almost done with Fudge Gets Told Off (I think) and Like Tenfold Shields is moving right along. After posting, I will most likely pause it to either finish those two or advance them closer to those fabled two words: The End.
I also have not forgotten the others to finish, either. Those are in the pipeline still. Or if you want to use a railroad metaphor, they’re still waiting in the switching station for the engineer to sound the whistle and move out.
After that, I could see myself fleshing out this chapter and the story itself some more.
As it’s New Year’s Day as I post this, I wish everyone a Happy New Year.
Enjoy!