The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts

By Ordinaryguy2

Chapter 10

In The Great Hall

"Would someone call Madam Pomfrey, please?" asked the Sorting Hat in a more gruffly tone than usual. "I think what I have found here needs to be documented."

A chair at the High Table was tossed away as Petunia Dursley raced over to where her sweet Duddy-kins sat on a stool with the Sorting Hat on his head. "What wrong with my little baby?"

"Mum?" Dudley said in a scared voice. "I can't see anything with this hat over my eyes."

Petunia gave a room-sucking gasp as she looked into her son's sightless eyes. "My baby's blind!" she cried, clutching her only child tight to her chest.

McGonagoll was instantly at the poor woman's side. "Calm yourself, my dear. He isn't really blind." She glared down with a look of reproach at the hat. "Tell her," she insisted.

The tattered animate headpiece seemed to roll it's beady eyes at the hysterical mother's dramatic antics. "It's true, Lady Ravenclaw. I will usually turn off a child's optic senses immediately as I am set on their head so that the child and I can more properly focus on what makes them who they are and thus into what house they should be place," the hat said matter-of-factly. "As soon as I am removed from the child's head, their sight is available to them again."

Murmuring could be heard among the students who had not realized that that had actually happened to them during their own sorting, though quite a few Ravenclaws bragged that they already knew that.

Meanwhile, Petunia sniffed gratefully as she clutched her son tight to her chest. Only when she looked down did she see that the Sorting Hat was trying to twist away from her bosom, even if it was covered by her robe. "Oh!" She stepped back, embarrassed at having been in such a position with that thing.

"Oh, indeed," responded the ragged hat crustily, as it straightened itself. "As I was trying to explain, young Dursley's eyes are not the problem. No, the problem he has is rather worse, and will be rather more difficult to correct."

"Worse?" Petunia said, her heart jumping into her throat. "Worse… than blindness?"

Dumbledore had made his way around the table with Minister Fudge following quickly after him. "Perhaps if the Sorting Hat would enlighten us to what he is implying?" the headmaster interjected. Secretly he was delighted at the hint of a possible malady that may force Petunia to take Dudley out of Hogwarts, and thus solve some of him major problems.

"I would rather wait for Madam Pomfrey before divulging this situation," answered the animated hat. "Where is she anyway?"

"We know that answer," responded Hermione, with her good hand in the air. "She had a sudden influx of students that needed various magical treatments just before the feast."

"Draco had arranged it," continued Harry. "He wanted to get me and Hermione alone in the hall."

"Harry, we can't prove that," Hermione reminded him.

Harry wasn't having any of it, though. "Hermione, he boasted about it right to our faces!"

She frowned, not liking the fact that they were arguing. "But he didn't actually say that he had sent the Slytherin first years to Madam Pomfrey. He can easily deny it, leading to the conclusion that he was taking advantage of running into us on our own."

The Sorting Hat had heard more than enough however. "Humph, well, then perhaps a silencing spell to promote some privacy, hmm? Then I can divulge the problem I have found to his mother."

"May Hermione and I be included?" asked Harry, who was a bit nervous. Odd as it was, he was beginning to like the new version of Dudley and his aunt Petunia. Whatever those rods were that had been influencing their personality and who knows what else, he hoped they could return them to whoever had used them on his relatives and ram them down their throats. Let them be the breeding ground for Wrackspurts and see how they like it!

Dumbledore was about to refuse Harry's request, but had not taken into account Petunia rapidly giving her approval. It was beginning to irk him that more and more people seemed to want to get her approval instead of his. True, most of these matters were regarding Petunia's family, but he was still headmaster, and he needed to have unquestionable authority over Harry and Hogwarts or who knows what level of chaos would be unsuspectingly put upon all of them.

Professor McGonagall already had her wand out and after a few waves of it quickly sent up a wide invisible circle around them. "There, that should keep any of the other students from listening in to what the Hat has to tell us. Oh, and Petunia, your sister Lily called that the 'Cone of Silence' spell. Evidently, the nickname was taken from a muggle thing that she found very amusing."

Petunia, however, was not amused, even if she was grateful to hear another tidbit about her sister's years in the castle. It was something she could cherish later; for the right now, she had her little Duddie-kins to look after. "Please, just let me know what is wrong with my Dudley!"

"Very well, Lady Ravenclaw," stated the Sorting Hat, bowing the best that he could for being a hat. "Are you sure I can reveal this news with those currently within the privacy wards that Professor McGonagall has put around us."

She was just about to say yes when she took a look around at the cluster about them. Professor Flitwick had joined their number as well as the defense professor who always made her feel uncomfortable, 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Minister Fudge seemed to give a reassuring nod, but she couldn't be sure. As for Dumbledore, she wanted to send him away, but knew that as this had to do with a student –or at least potential student– he would waste their time arguing that he needed to be there. "I-I guess so," she finally said, unsure if it would be polite to ask the defense professor to leave.

The Sorting Hat gave another nod before beginning. "As I sifted through his memories, I found some problems with some of the brain functions. Having a target to work with, I concentrated my efforts examining all the memories corresponding to that damage, and was dismayed when I discovered what had happened to young Mr. Dursley and the lengths someone went to to cover it up."

Albus Dumbledore, ill at ease at what the Sorting Hat was bringing forth, let his hand slip slowly down to his wand pocket, running scenarios of what to do when the Hat accused him of somehow injuring the boy's brain when applying the control rods to him as a young child. He didn't know how the control rods could have caused any damage to the boy's brain, but he had to admit to himself that not everything was known about what they did to someone. He could tell that Minerva was almost certain of his guilt. And the way Harry was eyeing him, he was, too. Dumbledore grit his teeth as all he could do was watch his many years of planning fall apart in front of him.

"It happened a little over two months before Harry had been left on your doorstep the night after his parents had sacrificed their lives for his."

"Harry was left on a doorstep?" exclaimed Minister Fudge.

Dumbledore managed to not let out a groan.

"Yes, in the middle of the night, during the first part of November," Petunia threw out. "We didn't even discover him until the morning. We wouldn't have even known whose child it was if it wasn't for the note that had been left in his basket."

Fudge sputtered as he tried to find some words to exclaim what he thought of such a thing. Several of the others looked the same, though Professor McGonagall looked down in shame for her part in the event, even if she had been against it all along. Hermione was hugging Harry tighter than she ever had before. It was getting so bad that he was actually starting to have trouble breathing.

Dumbledore was definitely going to have to obliviate that information from Fudge before the Minister could spread that fact around. Several of the others, too. But at the moment he was more interested in what the Sorting Hat was talking about since Albus hadn't began placing the various control rods in Dudley until he was nearly four.

"It we could please stay on subject for now. I am rather interested in what the Hat has to stay about the damage he has found."

Several people gave him the evil eye, but all silently agreed that this was one topic they couldn't postpone.

The Hat glared at him, knowing full well that the headmaster was diverting their attention on him to keep from answering some rather revealing questions.

Instead, the Hat turned to Mrs. Dursley. "Do you remember the time you had a bad case of the flu around the time of young Mr. Dursley's first birthday?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid," she answered. "I was rather out of it."

"Hmm, yes, so 'out of it', as you put it, that your husband, Mr. Vernon Dursley, had to take some time off from his work to help take of you and your son."

Petunia frowned but nodded. "That is how I remember it, but how did that affect my Dudley?"

The Sorting Hat sat upon Dudley's head, trying to determine the best way to tell this story. "There is no easy way to tell this, so I shall cover the events as they happened. It won't be the smoothest of explanations, but you will have all the relevant data that you need. It all began on the evening of August the 21st, the second night of Vernon staying at home to aid you in feeling better, not that he was much help to you, was he?"

She blushed at the straightforwardness of the animated cloth hat. "To tell the truth I really don't remember much of that time. I do remember Vernon being very sweet and caring for Dudley well I slept."

The Sorting Hat studied her for a moment before continuing. "There is a reason for that, and we will get to that in a little bit, if you will bear with me."

Her quick nod had the Hat continuing on. "Now on that night, your son was particularly miserable as he was cutting one of his teeth."

"Cutting his teeth?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"Means one of his baby teeth were coming in," Hermione whispered to him. "It's rather painful to the gum line and babies are generally very irritable during that period."

"Oh," Harry managed to reply, filing that information away. There were lots of little things that were normal to know about in regular family life, but since Harry grew up at the Dursleys, he had not come into contact with the majority of them. Even so, he still had the rest of his life to learn about the different aspects of life. The warm connection of Hermione to his back, as well as her leaning into his side, gave him hope that he could still have a good life ahead of him

The Hat continued on, but only after given Harry and Hermione a hard look. "It was nearly half past two in the morning. Your son had been crying for an hour straight at that point and your husband couldn't wake you to take care of him."

Petunia blushed. "I think…, that may have been after I had been vomiting most of the day. I remember being very weak, collapsing in bed with a large emesis bowl."

"Hmm, yes," said the Hat. "I can hear the noises of you in the bathroom from Dudley's memories."

"What? Really? But I don't remember any of that." Dudley suddenly said. His head jerked back in surprise. "Oh wow! I hear it now! Mom, wow, sounds like you were in The Exorcist!"

Petunia's looked in surprise. "Is the Hat showing you that?"

"Not really seeing it, but I can sure hear it!"

Petunia blushed until she remembered something. "Just when did you ever see The Exorcist, young man?"

"Ah, um, well…"

"As interesting as this family dialog is," interrupted the Sorting Hat, "I would rather like to finish what I was about to do, if you don't mind."

Petunia nodded. "Very well, but don't think this is going to be forgotten, Dudley."

Dudley shifted uncomfortably on the stool, even as the Sorting Hat continued with his account. "What I was about to reveal was that when your husband began to descend the stairs with your son, the younger Dursley puked all over his father."

"Oh yuck! I could taste that!"

The Hat chuckled. "Fortunately for me I don't have taste buds."

Dudley groaned. "Well, I do, and if you don't stop, you'll have me doing a repeat performance. And all I have for a container is the hat on my head."

Harry smirked at the surprise on the Hat's face. He also noted Professor Flitwick chuckling to himself. Even 'Mad-Eye' Moody seemed to have been amused.

"Anyway," continued the Sorting Hat, "Vernon was disgusted and dropped his son from the top of the stairs where he tumbled down the stairs."

Petunia gasped, fell to her knees, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came quickly to her side. "My baby." She said it so quietly that none but McGonagall heard it.

"Dad dropped me?" Dudley was finally heard saying.

"I-I didn't know." Big, fat tears were rolling down her cheek. McGonagall, having already had one crying session with Mrs. Dursley, quickly transformed a quill into a large handkerchief. "Why didn't he tell me?"

It was Harry that provided the most likely answer. "In all my years in your home, Aunt Petunia, one of the things that I learned earliest was that Vernon doesn't like taking the blame for anything."

Petunia sniffed, wiping her face with the handkerchief. "I must be such a bad mother! How did I not notice something like my baby being injured from falling down the stairs?"

"That wasn't your fault, Lady Ravenclaw," spoke the Hat. "Your dear husband kept you drugged with a large amount of medications while waiting for your son to recover. He seemed afraid of what might be implied if anyone saw your son in his damaged condition."

"Drugged? But all I had in the house was over-the-counter cold medication."

The Sorting Hat looked to become even more grumpy looking than normal. "Your son became conscious off and on over the next few days, but one of the things he overheard was your husband conspiring with your sister-in-law Marge to use some of the medications she uses to knock dogs out."

"They gave me dog medication? That on top of the cold medicine that I was already taking? They could have killed me!"

"Yes," agreed the Sorting Hat. "It's my opinion that the fact that you are a witch was what saved you."

"Oh, he is in so much trouble!" Petunia growled, climbing back to her feet, anger beginning to fuel her.

"Excuse me," Hermione said, with a slightly raised hand. "But the Hat said that the fall had done something to Dudley; he hadn't said what that was."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat said with a nod in her direction.

"You can give house points?" the young witch exclaimed with surprise.

The Hat shot out a laugh. "You'd be surprised at all that I can do!"

"Please." Petunia placed a hand on either side of the hat's face. "Just tell me what happened to my baby."

"I'm not a baby," Dudley muttered quietly, frustrated at all this attention and lack of answers.

"Very well then. I will do so if you will just keep your hands to yourself."

Dudley's mother pulled back her hands as if they were burned, but stayed standing right in front of the ragged headpiece, refusing to move until she heard everything.

"Your son bounced several times down the stairs, striking his head badly," informed the Hat. "The resulting concussion was only the beginning of his head trauma. The pressure in his brain had built to such a point that some of his higher functions were damaged."

"My… baby… was…brain-damaged?"

"After you recovered, did you notice him having extreme tantrums, or difficulty thinking? Even zoning out for periods of time?" All eyes turned to Hermione. "Those are some of the signs of a minor brain injury."

Seeing the clueless look in the eyes of those of the Wizarding world, Hermione went on to explain. "Some of those with brain injuries have impulsive anger issues, meaning that they will blow up about something at a moment's notice. They can also exhibit frustration due to cognitive impairment, especially in regards to memory, which would make studying as a student very difficult. Sometimes, even confusion over what's going on right in front of them. Other signs of a brain injury could be threatening or attacking people that anger them, verbally and/or physically."

Dudley's mother shook her head. "My Dudley would never-"

"Mum!" Dudley reached out for her. "That describes me all across the board." When she began to shake her head in denial, he gave a heavy sigh and with a grumble simply said, "Then just ask Harry."

Harry had been totally caught off guard when Dudley told his mother to ask him. He looked at her teary eyes, and then back to Dudley. "I hate to say it but the description fits."

Petunia clenched her fists tightly; her rising risk of a panic attack was just barely being kept in check by the desperate need to do something to help her boy. "You have a magical Hospital wing here, where Harry was recovering; wouldn't they have a magic potion or something that can heal my Dudley?"

"That is not necessarily so." Dumbledore stroked his beard as if in deep contemplation. In reality he already knew the answer, but he so liked to put on a good show. "Head traumas are risky things in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. Wizards and witches direct our magic through our mind. When the mind is damaged, it could cause catastrophe when used in concert with out magic."

"So you are saying I can't do magic safety?"

All eyes were on Dudley now, but they could still hear the devastating news that Dumbledore was delivering. "I'm afraid not, my boy."

Petunia nearly tackled her son. Even so, she did manage to knock the Sorting Hat off Dudley's head.

Professor Flitwick automatically bent down and retrieved the Hat from the floor of the Great Hall. "I'm sure she didn't mean to do that," he squeaked. "However, I was thinking, you said we would be surprised at the things you could do. I was wondering if one of those things you do might be healing head traumas?"

The rip in the Hat that made up it's smile widened greatly. "That is the type of thinking that keeps the house of Ravenclaw famous for it's wisdom!"

"You can help my boy?"

"Easy now, Lady Ravenclaw. Let me explain what I could do before you go all blubbery on me again."

Petunia stiffened, saying nothing, only moving to tighten her grip on her son. Dudley was a bit exasperated, too. Finding out your dad dropped you as a baby that led to long-term effects will do that. The other being that now that he could see again, he could see all the students watching the melodrama unfolding before them even if they couldn't hear them. Lavender, who Dudley had hoped would be his girlfriend, seemed to be terrified of what was happening, as well as exasperated by not knowing what it all meant.

"I can promote some low-level healing in that area of his brain. In addition, I can aid him to learn new reactions to events so that he doesn't revert to just lashing out in anger. But the best thing and possibly the most controversial, is that I can try stimulate certain areas of his brain, especially those areas that I would be trying to heal, to encourage higher brain functions. In other words, bring his intelligence up to the level of his peers. He would still have to learn everything on his own; this would just enable him to be able to do the mental processing."

Dumbledore shook his head in the saddest manner he could muster. "Oh dear, now see that will be a problem. Several laws have been put in place by the Wizengamot ruling against using magic to manipulate a person's brain. Too many times people have either tried to influence what someone else does, or sometimes trying to give themselves greater intellect, and the end results were almost always most tragic."

"But this would help my son!" She turned to Minister Fudge who seemed to weighing the matter in his own mind.

"I'm sorry, Petunia. My hands are tied in this manner."

"Actually," began the Sorting Hat, "That ruling doesn't affect me, as I am a device created by the Founders for that very purpose. I was, I believe the term is, grandfathered in. All I need is the permission of two heirs of the Founders, or one heir and the current headmaster or headmistress. That is one of the safeguards put in place by the Founders."

"Then we can do it!" Petunia said excitedly, and kissed the top of her son's head. "I'm one of the heirs, and Dumbledore is-"

The words seemed to stick in her throat as the headmaster of Hogwarts just stood there shaking his head sadly. "I'm afraid that I believe there is still too great a danger as to how this would affect Mr. Dursley. No, I think we should table this decision, at least for now, until we can consult some specialists on the matter."

"Poppycock!" barked the Hat. "I'm the best hope this young man has, and you know it!"

The headmaster tutted sympathetically. "I have strong reservations again mind magic. I always have been since a tragedy in my family when I was younger. No, I cannot abide by this. Some other way must be available, or none at all. And as Mr. Dursley has made it this far in life in his diminished mental state, I doubt he will have a problem with the rest of his life, though it will have to be in the muggle world. Otherwise, magic could have an untold effect on him."

McGonagall began arguing with Dumbledore along with Petunia and Fudge. Moody stayed at the edge of the group, greatly amused.

Frustrated, Harry led Hermione over to where Professor Flitwick stood with the Sorting Hat. The two had been conversing quietly, only ceasing when the teenagers neared.

"Hat, is there anything we can do so that you can try to help Dudley?" Harry asked.

The Sorting Hat and the half-Goblin professor shared a look. "There is one way," admitted the Hat. "But you may not be totally happy with the results."

"Is it dangerous?" Hermione asked, with a hint of nervousness. She was feeling very protective of him, and did not want to subject him to any other dangers. As it was she knew he had to face the Second Task in February, and she was going to do everything she could to make sure he didn't face any other dangers till then. Even if that was the least she could do.

"Maybe in a social sense, but you already are not one that cares greatly about public opinion, are you?"

Harry stared down at the Hat. Then glanced over at his aunt who looked about ready to pull the wizened old wizard's beard out. "I'll do whatever it takes."

The Sorting Hat groaned. Glancing up at Hermione, the Hat directed the next comment to her. "You really need to teach him not to make such blatant statements. Fortunately, it would be necessarily bad this time, but others could really set him up if he isn't careful."

Hermione blushed, but nodded.

The Hat studied Harry again. "Are you sure about this?"

Harry hesitated, but then nodded.

"Very well." There was a flare of magic that dismissed the silence wards around them. There was another flare that muted those arguing with the headmaster.

"On this day," said the Sorting Hat, whose voice was now amplified loud enough to be heard by all those in the Great Hall, "I declare Harry Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin by the Rite of Conquest, having defeated the Dark Lord no less than three times!"

Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "What-what did you do?"

In a much quieter tone, the Hat answered. "You said you'd do whatever it took. Well, I need another heir to heal your cousin. So you're it."

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AUTHOR's NoTeS:

Well, I'm here at the end of another chapter. This time my big reveal was why Dudley was the way he was. And it didn't have everything to do with Dumbledore's control rods. I know that making Harry the Heir of Slytherin is not necessary a new concept, but I hope I at least made it unique enough to be interesting for everyone.

Thanks for reading, now please review!

Thanks again!