Author notes: Dudley meets and doesn't meet a new friend.
Warnings: Time travel, Redemption, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bisexual Dudley Dursley, Wizard Dudley Dursley, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Racism, WIP, Relationships will be added later on, The Dursleys are terrible parents, Based on a Tumblr post, updates will be random and without order, Unreliable Narrator, POC Harry Potter, POC James Potter, Indian Harry Potter, Indian James Potter, Liberties with Goblin Culture.
Chapter 11: Amnesia
Dudley watches the fire flicker as the teen hummed a song under his breath, gently poking the embers with a long stick. After gawking at him for a good ten minutes the teenager had offered a seat on the opposite side of his fire where another log had appeared. The trees around them were silent though Dudley could see a gentle wind shake them, the sun beaming through the breaks in between the greenery, highlighting small spots on the warm colored ground.
He hadn't noticed at first but a gentle flowery aroma drifted through the air, like the sweetest of lotions and it caused his stress and worry to wash away as he breathes it in. It was peaceful, especially with the water flowing next to them making it the only sound besides his host but yet Dudley felt...odd here. As if though he was relaxed to his bones but a part of him knew he shouldn't be.
He thinks the only comparison he could properly make was being drugged but he's never touched anything like that so he wasn't too sure.
"Are you comfortable?" The teenager asks suddenly, which humiliating enough, makes Dudley jump. He hadn't even noticed when the other stop his hypnotizing humming. Another thing that seemed otherworldly to him, just slightly off of what a human sounds like when making that particular sound.
"Ugh, yes. I am. Thank you" He scrambles to say, hating the blush that overtook his face. He had almost fallen off his seat in his surprise which at his age was quite embarrassing- both the physical and mental one.
"Wonderful." The teenager said with a quick quirk of his lips. "It can be overwhelming to suddenly find oneself in a new area but I do hope to make your experience here as agreeable as possible for you"
He spoke in a clear smooth voice, his usage of polite friendliness, making him seem approachable and dependable without having him say he so.
Dudley wondered where this kid got his customer-pleasing training because that right there was what you would say to a person as they booked a room in a hotel. It lacks the customer service voice and came off as a natural grace, which was just another reason it was so effective.
As it were Dudley found himself relaxing even more in his presence.
"Thank you for your efforts but I'm doing alright," Dudley said with the same amount of polite friendliness. His response must have satisfied something about his host since he got the impression the other was pleased. He didn't beam exactly as if though it was unbecoming of him but the muggle-born got the feeling he would, had the teenager been anyone else. This is a perfect opportunity to gather more information, which Dudley gladly takes advantage of. "If you don't mind me asking I have a few questions about my situation."
"Of course."
Dudley smiled. "I can start by apologizing for not introducing myself before, I was just so thrown off by everything."
"I can see how that would be stressful, there is no need to worry. You will find, however, that you can't introduce yourself." The teen says while gracefully resting the stick on the ground.
"What? Why not?"
The teenager tucked some of his long curly hair behind an ear. It's loose curls, not exactly wavy but not tight coils either, meaning it only lasts in its place for but half a minute before it stubbornly falls back. It had the strange sense of being tussled but not unkempt. Messy but fashionable. Was this kid a personification of contradiction? "Idefincation here does not work."
"I don't understand"
"I suppose a demonstration is in order. Please attempt to give me your name." At Dudley's confused face, the teenager offers him an encouraging smile with just a hint of teasing bleeding into it. "You'll understand soon. Start with my name is, and see what happens."
Was this another magic thing?
"My name is-!" Suddenly Dudley felt his body freeze, his lips not able to move around the syllables of his name. He couldn't even blink, some kind of restraints lanching onto him, going down to his very soul. The teenager didn't seem surprised by this only nodding his head in three gentle head jerks. Just as the panic started building in his chest he felt the control of his body return to him. Gasping he jerks out of the invisible hold. "What the fuck was that!?"
"Such crude language for one so young." The teen scolds cheerfully. It was at old with his word choice, almost as if though he approved and disapproved at the same time. "That was the Truth."
He could hear the capital T and it did not sit well with him.
"What is the Truth?"
"Hmm." The teenager gave off the impression he would be tapping his chin but his hands remain in his lap claps perfectly together. "That is a question mortals are not ready to have answered. Not until it's their time."
Wait, wait, wait. Did this mean the teenager wasn't a mortal? What was Dudley talking to then!?
Resisting the urge to back away, to put as much space as physically possible between them less he offends whatever sat before him, he struggles to keep his thoughts off his face. He thinks this has something to do with magic and in his experience angering anyone with the ability was never a good idea.
The teenager turned his attention onto the water for only a second before he brought back his gaze to Dudley. Suddenly the time traveler took notice of how his eyes seemed like liquid mercury and he was stun by their beauty. He's always been aware of people's eyes and one of the first things he's ever noticed about Tiffiny was her pair of chocolate brown irises often warm with laughter.
It only reinforced what he already knew. This dark hair, gray eye male was one of the most fetching young men he's ever seen.
He felt his face flush against his will, then feels mildly disgusted with himself for thinking so of a child. No matter how attractive he was the teenager was still just a baby in his eyes, and there were lines he as an adult should never cross. He wrestles his reaction to those eyes and stomped down on it until the thought was good and crushed.
"T-their time for what?" He stumbles over his words but Dudley raises his chin regardless. He once read that a person could look down on someone else without having to actually look down. It may push the stranger into anger but somehow he got the impression that it was the best course of action when it came to this non-mortal teen.
"Their time to choose between Beyond or Linger" Oh goody, more capital letters.
Thankfully the dark hair male took the insensitive to explain further, finally lifting his hand in order to gesture airly in the direction of the river.
"When mortals are ready, they come here. On the other side of this river, fog gathers ready to welcome them to the Beyond. It differs from person to person of course, as no one person sees the same thing, because every different person has somewhere they feel most comforted by, and more likely to trust which makes it more likely for them to use as a means to enter Beyond. Those that are not ready to go Beyond, however, choose to Linger. They return where they come from often caused by lingering regrets or shame. Linger can take years before they can return here to choose Beyond. Most of the Linger are afraid of the Beyond and thus I do not see them as often for a second time. Though that option is only available for those born with magical powers."
Death.
The teenager was talking about death. No, he wasn't just talking about it, he was explaining it, as one would explain their day job's facilities and procedures. It only meant one thing.
Holy fucking shit Dudley was talking to Death.
Suddenly, the teenager's- or was he even one? Death was ageless wasn't it?- beauty didn't seem all that appealing. In fact, he was quite sure that it was a ploy to make people fall for his charm easier and most likely make it faster for the being to move them to the Beyond. The strangeness of him being so otherworldy made much more sense now too and it also brought up the question if what Dudley was seeing really was what was there.
Maybe the dark hair youth didn't appear this way to everyone and- Wait! No! He was at the entrance of Beyond, did that mean, was Dudley-? But how-? When? Why hadn't he seen this when the car hit? Why now? What about Harry?! He couldn't just leave the boy! Not after what he's done, after having them be thrown out!
"You are panicking," Death said. His voice- or was it more correct to say they're voice? Did the embodiment of mortality fall under the constricting notions of gender?- sounded curious but not overly worried. More like he was making an observation about Dudley's outfit instead of pointing out the bloody terrifying crisis he just entered.
It pissed him off.
"Excuse me for freaking out, I've died! I have the right to panic!" He sneers which makes Death's lips jerk as if though he is fighting a grin.
"You are not dead." Death stands in one fluid motion rounding the fire and placing his hand on Dudley's cheek. The action has the time traveler jerking away ice filling his veins but Death's palm follows, gently patting the skin. "You are solid. As I said when you first arrived, I do not have solid guests often. You are special."
"But if I'm not dead...why am I here?" Because you know what, it was quite rude to scare him like that! He breathes a sigh of relief as the being takes away his palm, not ashamed of admitting that it was quite warm almost comfortably so and it made him all that much wearier. "Why did Death-I mean, why did you call me here?"
Those silver eyes blink looking for the first time honestly startled then the dark hair male covered his mouth with one hand, in an attempt to stop his laughter that shook his whole frame. His shoulders jerked up and down, with his failed attempt to suppress his humor, and it wasn't long before he gave up trying to smother it. Letting the hand fall away he is chortling without an ounce of shame before the unamused Dudley.
"I have not laughed like that in years." The teenager says eyes sparkling. Now that he's crushed all his thoughts about his handsomeness Dudley is not distracted by them. "Thank you for that amusement. But no, I am not Death."
"You're not?"
"No. I am more of what you can call, an assistant. I help the souls with picking Beyond and Linger. That is all."
"I see" He didn't, but Dudley did remember a legend he studied in uni and a light bulb goes off in his mind. "You're like Kharon, the ferryman of the river of Styx. Or an angel that guides people to Heaven"
The teenager smirks "An interesting comparison."
Crossing his arms the time traveler takes a moment to wonder why he doesn't feel afraid of this person like Hagrid. When the half-giant arrived at his house-ex house now- Dudley had been terrified out of his mind, but here he felt more able to manage his emotions. Even though he knows he shouldn't, something about this place and more specific this dark hair lad make him feel at ease. As if though he found someone who clicks with him like a long lost friend.
Was this the ability of a guide? Make it possible to build trust with him after being exposed to his hospitality and allow the guide to move his feelings from panic to calm in seconds? He felt that in the last few minutes he was on an emotional rollercoaster but he wasn't upset by it.
Dudley didn't like having someone manipulate his emotions. Perhaps a change in the subject will test the waters and get his mind off the idea that he doesn't even have control of even that about himself.
"If I can't say my name, does that mean you can't either?" The teenager nods. "What am I supposed to call you then?"
For one fleeting second, the guide's expression actually looks pained before it is gone in a flash. It was so rapid Dudley has half the mind to wonder if he imagined it. "No one calls me anything for that is what I am. I am nothing. "
Well, that's kind of depressing. "How about Angel? Since that's your job and you kinda look like one."
So that last part was added to make the kid feel better about his appearance, sue him.
Silver eyes widen then fill with weary amusement and crippling longing. "You may use the name Angel if you desire to."
In other words, he really wanted to be called that. Alright. Standing from the log, Dudley holds out his hand for a shake smiling up at the taller being. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Angel."
It must be a trick of the light for those mercury irises to look watery for a second as if though they haven't been touch with such emotion ins years. He takes the offered hand, but surprisingly he does not shake. Instead, he uses it to pull them towards the edge of the river where Angel then turns it over and bends down to place a kiss on his knuckles. Dudley chokes on his tongue. "The pleasure is all mine...Nymph."
"Nymph?"
"You are not the only one who knows the ancient Greeks legends. It seems befitting for one who came from the Flumen Dei Tempus." Angel half smirks and half grins "And it's befitting a name for someone as beautiful as one as well."
Dudley felt his whole face turn red. "Um I-"
"You should wake soon Nymph before you forget how." Angel suddenly says not allowing him to explain that he's flattered really but Angel looks like a kid and that's gross and improper also Dudley is married...or was. "You're body is already forgetting."
"What?"
"It was a pleasure talking to you, but please do not see me so soon again. It's a pity for one so young as you to be here." Angel releases his hand in order to place one on the blond's chest, keeping eye contact. Since Dudley is in an eleven-year-old body and the afterlife ferryman could be eighteen or so, he's a good few feet taller than him, making him crane his neck upwards in order to lock gazes.
The sunlight beams down from above though the sun is nowhere to be seen, and the light dances around the youth's dark hair giving him a near glowing appearance. He's mesmerized by it.
Angel offers him a soft smile. "Goodbye."
Dudley is suddenly pushed backward, splashing into the water of the clear river. His last image of Angel is seeing the boy mouth his new name to himself as the water blurs his eyesight and he knows no more.
Dudley gasps awake out of reflex feeling just seconds ago the water rushing into his mouth and nose. He jerks upwards, in a half craze effort to get back to the surface only to realize what is covering his body is not liquid but cloth and he's resting dry as the sun in a white-sheeted bed. A woman standing next to him lets out a little shriek having been in the middle of tucking his body better.
He stares at her with wide eyes as she hastily backs away, visibly attempting to put her self together. She's wearing robes which identify her as a witch but Dudley has never seen any in that kind of green before. She pulled out her wand, sending a blue bolt of light through the door. Once that was done she pushed a few light brown strands of hair that had fallen loose from her pointy green hat out of her face and offered him a smile. " Hello, Mr. Dursley. I'm Healer Rose Thornbush. How are you feeling?"
"Um.." A healer? Like a doctor? Or more like a nurse?
She must have taken his hesitation as something else because her face slightly tightens with worry. "Would you be able to tell me what your full name is?"
"Er." His mind was drawing a blank feeling half on and half off.
"Do you happen to know the month?"
"I- that is. ugh."
She pursed her lips. "Would you be able to tell me your age?"
"E-eleven!" He shouts happy to finally have an answer. It felt like his brain was starting to reboot but he couldn't help but feel he was forgetting something really important. "I'm eleven years old. It's July and my full name is Nymph Dursley- no wait it's Dudley. Dursley" Nymph where did that come from?
"Well done Mr. Dursley." The healer looked a little more relax but she still waves her wand over his body. Dudley wasn't exactly sure what she was doing or looking for but he watches the multicolor lights- different spells maybe?- run up and down his body, she keeps a critical eye on the magic. "Are you feeling any pain right now?"
"No ma'am, just some soreness" He admits after testing his limbs and finding them thumping dully as he moved about on his bed.
"That's to be expected," Thornbush admits just as the door to his room is open and another witch in robes walks in caring a tray of tiny little bottles, but her outfit seems to have more white then the lime green of the healer assisting him. This witch seems younger as well, late teens early twenties. Just like-someone. Who did he know was near that age? His mind went blank again the same nagging feeling he was forgetting something blaring alarms in his mind.
"You have been unconscious for three days," Thornbush tells him her voice cutting through his thoughts like the sound of a car's tire wheels screeching to a holt. The young witch pops the tray on a little table near his bed, fumbling with the tiny corks. "Do you remember your accident?"
"No." He admits feeling unsettled "No I don't. What happened?"
Thornbush doesn't seem surprised by his answer turning to the witch to give her a quick shortlist of numbers. The younger witch nods her head and goes about combining the liquids into a small bowl mumbling the numbers under breath. The healer waves her wand again, and this time a gust of silver sparkles bleed out of his body, rushing upwards to the wood in her hand. "Better make that nineteen, fifteen and four Rachel. He's magic is self-stabilizing."
"Of course Healrer Thronbush." Rachel agrees, putting down a blue bottle. "Would you like me to add it to his care plan overall?"
"Not when it comes to cases like these." Healer Thornbush answers mildly studying the silver sparkles with a crease between her brows. "His magic is reacting differently to the previous potions."
Dudley opens his mouth to ask what that meant but the brown hair woman steamrolls on, letting the sparkles vanish in the eye. "Mr. Dudley, three days ago you went into a panic attacked caused by great distress. Your body was unable to handle the shock and fall unconscious. Unfortunately, when you passed out, your head hit the muggle ground and it cracked your skull open. Your companions were quick to bring you to St. Mungo's for emergency assistance. We would have had you awake in a day but your magic went into a self-defensive state that did not allow us to wake you with charms or spells. Tell me, has your previous Healer ever covered your magical rate with you?"
He understands about thirty percent of that. All he got was that he fainted and his skull cracked on the concrete. Raising a hand to feel around his head he was surprised to not find any indication of the claimed injury. "Magical rate?"
She nodded.
He waited for her to explain but when Healer Thornbush remains quite he shrugged. "My doctor once said I had a thick head if that helps."
"Doctor?" She repeated with a raised brow.
"Yes"
She shares a look with Rachel who only shrugs, stirring her little bowl. Healer Thornbush snaps out her wand to the side saying some words he did not understand, as another bolt of violet light shoots into the bookcase on the other side of the room. A roll of parchment and a quill rise into the air from the shelves, flying over to land beside the witch, being suspended in the air by the purple hue. Dudley watches it will rapid fascination as the quill starts to write on its own, having never seen magic quite like this but he is reminded of the self-serving teacups.
Since he is watching the quill he is able to get a flash of the words incoherent babbling being elegantly written in cursive.
"Thank you, Mr. Dursley. I'll let your cousin know he can speak with you after Rachel finishes with your potions." Healer Thornbush says, sending a few more bursts of lights onto his body with three quick flicks of her wrist. More gibberish falls from her lips as she does so and smiles a strain pitying thing as each one turns into a murky brown before clearing into sparkling silver.
She gives him another look, before turning on her heel, going for the door. Rachel comes over with the bowl but Dudley is caught up on the word cousin and the buzzing in his head clears just a bit. The constant nagging feeling of forgetfulness is ignored as his mind launches onto the word cousin.
How terrible of him to take this long to even think about the young boy.
"Healer Thornbush?" He calls before she can make a getaway.
"Yes, dearie?"
"Is Angel aright? He seemed a bit of distress before I woke up." Dudley wants to make sure his cousin wasn't having a negative reaction to all of this. Getting kicked out on your birthday for being the way you are then having your cousin split his skull open right in front of you could be quite traumatizing for one so young.
"I'm sorry but I don't know who this Angel is. If you give me an address I can send an owl and request his current condition if it helps put you at ease." The healer answers snapping her wand and having the violet light wrap around the quill once more but this time on separate clean parchment.
He blinks at her confused his mind drawing another blank. "Who's Angel?"
The two witches freeze. It's Rachel that very cautiously tries to force a laugh. "Why, you just asked about him."
"I did? When?"
The quill was suddenly back on the other parchment rapidly writing as the younger woman clears her throat then offers him a dazzling smile. "The potions you are currently on are common to make one a bit disorientated. Would you rather I tell your cousin to wait in order to get them out of your system?"
Dudley shakes his head "No. I want to see Harry. I'm sorry I guess I'm still affected by the potions. Are potions like medications? I've always been a bit sensitive to them."
"Medication" Rachel repeats as if though the word is a new and strange thing. She has an expression on her face that he often seen but never directed at him. It was the kind of look you gave a mad man yelling in the streets about the world ending.
"I'll let Mr. Potter know you wish to see him" Healer Thornbush cuts in sending a stern glare at Rachel. The young witch flushes, ducking her head to hide behind her hair. "Please, take your potions now, Mr. Dursley."
She leaves, the parchment floating behind her, as her green robes whip out with dramatic flair. He can make out the sound of a busy building, voices, and footsteps overlapping in the general sounds of a crowd as the door is open but it's a brief thing. The moment the wood closes there is no sound whatsoever to indicated any foot traffic and he has half the mind to ask the young witch if potions were common to cause someone to hear sounds that aren't there.
He thought better of it because he doesn't want to come off as crazy.
While Dudley is forced to drink whatever sluggish murk Rachel deems necessary he wonders why he would ever confuse the names Harry and Angel but figures it's nothing important. He just woke from a miniature coma, surely that gave him an excuse to confuse some things.
Harry bursts into the room tears and snot covering his face, rushing forward to pull the blond into a tight embarrass. Hagrid follows close behind his face also wet and the man nearly breaks his back with the way he attempts to pat him. Apparently he had been the one to carry him all the way to the magical hospital, so Dudley allows it.
Angel is pushed out of his mind.
The feeling of forgetfulness, however, stubbornly remains.
